Open letter to all the moms that watch me feed my daughter and judge:

Hello, snotty witches.

My babies tend to run small, so a lot of what I planned with my daughter (peanut) became history when she stopped making her weight checks after her first birthday-- not forcing food, offering only whole grains, organics, no sugar or junk, etc... Suddenly, it was McDonalds, trading M&Ms for bites, bribery, sugar, butter, fried food, processed crap, you name it.

Not all babies will eat what they need. I'm sure you are right that most will, but I know first hand that not all will. Once my baby was deemed too thin, I did whatever it took to put weight on her. Let your doctor start talking about tube feedings, developmental delays and genetic testing; let your child be considered borderline "failure to thrive" -- then we'll see how long you can keep singing your holier than thou tune.

I'm sure this wasn't what you meant when you told me that I was spoiling my daughter and giving her bad eating habits, and I know you didn't have this information when you rolled your eyes at me and snickered to your friend behind my back after listening to me beg and negotiate with her to take a few more bites. I just want to point out that there are many roads to good parenting. I'm glad yours is working for you. Now, kindly F-off.

Thanks.

P.S. My children NEVER ate baby food (we made every meal), they don't drink juice and I breastfed peanut for a year and am still going with the pumpkin man. Still feel superior?

Swimming vs Drowning

                                                                   

I took the peanut to "family swim" last night by myself! It was totally scary because I had to talk to people I didn't know, she was slippery, wet and way too adventurous: refusing to hold my hand, suddenly plopping down, trying to walk up to her neck, jumping...

Several times I was sure I'd have to call Homemaker Man from the hospital. That would have been quite the conversation. At one point, she suddenly just sits down, so that the water is well over her head (6 to 8 inches). Then everything moves in slow motion: I panic and reach down to grab her. She looks up at me through the water; a cloud of red curls swirling around her heard -- huge green eyes open wide -- and smiles. Yes, smiles underwater. I swear, it was like she was trying to drown herself.

We went to the pool a few time before my pumpkin was born, but Homemaker Man was there and it was easier (she was also much less brave). I can't imagine how stay at home moms manage scary things like water all time. I felt like one of those Dads who takes his kids out on Saturday morning so Mom can sleep... Pathetic.