Food

Any of you who know me IRL, especially those of you who've been kind enough to visit me, will be aware that I'm a bit of a foody and I love to cook. Years of an eating disorder in the past mean that I don't take this for granted, and I really feel blessed that I can have such a good relationship with food now. Some of my most memorable times have been spent laughing and conversing with friends, over a home-cooked meal that's been prepared with love and attention.

Given my rocky past with the whole subject, I've been keen to instill a good attitude towards food into Cian from an early age. As a result, we decided to do Baby Led Weaning, which seemed a natural progression from his breastfeeding on demand. He was used to regulating his own appetite and only taking what food he needed from me, and as he had good hand-eye coordination, a good number of teeth and kept trying to steal bits of salad from my plate, when he got to six months old we embarked on yet another phase of our adventure. He was definitely ready for finger foods rather than purees.

Well, he LOVES his food. Really, really loves it. The first thing he ever ate was broccoli, steamed and cut into florets so he could hold them. Shortly after this he tried bananas, steamed apple, mango, courgette, potato, avocado...before he progressed to meats, fish and grains.

These days, he tends to have porridge with berries for breakfast - we usually fill up the spoon and hand it to him so he can feed himself, but I admit I've sometimes been lazy and helped him. For lunch in this warm weather, we usually share a big platter of things like cheese, bread, cucumber, tomatoes, avocado and fruit. His all time favourite fruit seems to be fresh cherries, but mango runs a close second. For dinner I'll usually serve something warm like grilled chicken and veggies, a casserole, cottage pie, pasta with sauce, or curry.

Yes, you read that correctly. Our baby is a curry addict. If Matt ever has a crazy concern that I'm hiding a dark secret about Cian's parentage, he need only look to his culinary preferences.

Part of the joy of all this, apart from seeing the baby's face when I set a meal of lovingly-prepared food before him, is that it's given me an excuse to cook again - something that I've had scant time to do since I became a mother. I've always tried to consider nutrition when cooking, but having Cian means that I'm putting such concerns first now. So if I'm cooking, say, a pasta sauce for all of us, I'll find ways to add extra veggies and healthy foods into it, as well as ensuring it's baby-friendly in other ways such as having sufficient healthy fats, no added salt, etc.

We benefit from this as a whole family, and when we can eat together it feels really natural and joyful. Cian, as with all babies, loves to feel a part of our day-to-day life. Sharing meals is something I want to do all the time as he grows up, so we do it as often as possible now. Cian tends to have his dinner before we do, because Matt arrives home later than I'd like him to eat, but "the boys" have their breakfast together while I'm doing my physio or stretching out a bit, and I have lunch with the baby too.

Some of my mother friends on Facebook have been asking for my recipes, and I've been happy to share them...well, such that they are, as I do more a sort of "kitchen alchemy" than actually recipe-style cooking! One of my other friends suggested that I write a BLW recipe book, and I'm flattered that she thinks anyone would want to read my ideas. What do you think? Might it be worth it??

Either way, I'm thoroughly enjoying this phase of Cian's life. It feels so joyful to watch him exploring new tastes and textures, and we're blessed that he's so adventurous in his food preferences. His favourites seem to be his Daddy's lentil curry, spread onto warm chapatti fingers and stuffed into his mouth with an air of happy gluttony. He also loves my mango-rice dessert, steamed pears with ginger, and is currently really into my new beef and tomato noodles recipe.

In other news, Cian is now Destructo-Boy. We've had to install drawer and cupboard locks, a safety gate (with a cat flap in it so Maliika can escape from his attempts to hug her!), and place chairs in strategic positions around the sitting room to prevent him getting to places he can't. We don't have the most ideal "toddler-safe" flat, because quite simply we have too much stuff in too small a space, but we're managing with much running about and our mutual parental eagle-eyes.

He's also teething again at the moment, though he seems to be coming out of this latest phase. He got his first two teeth at 4.5 months, then had 6 by the time he turned 6 months. In the last week, he's cut a molar and two premolars, from what we can see (ever tried to get a strong baby to open his mouth and let you look??), and he's really been suffering for it. I wish I could go through it for him, especially since he's so precocious in the dental department! It seems so cruel to babies, that they have to endure such pain and discomfort so early in their little lives.

We have a friend arriving today and staying for the weekend, so we're all excited about that. Matt's father and his family are coming by tomorrow again too - more on this later, when I have a chance to write it. Next week we have a couple of outings planned, so it's all go for my mini social butterfly. I've had a bad flare-up of fibromyalgia recently, which has been getting me down and caused me to cancel a number of social engagements, but thankfully it seems to be subsiding again. I get cabin fever when I can't get out and about!!

And that's it from us, for now!

Visit

WhenI first became pregnant, we obviously let the prospective grandparents know. My parents were concerned for my health but utterly thrilled, Matt's mum screamed with excitement, and then we called his father.

His dad said he was busy and would call us straight back when he'd finished doing what he was doing.

Fast forward three months, and he actually called. Vaguely asked how I was, then went on to ask Matt the favours he'd really called for - he needed advice on fixing his computer.

When the baby was born, I got texts and messages from my folks and Matt's mum (who sent a beautiful text message thanking me for working so hard to give her a gorgeous grandson). Nothing from Frank, though Matt did call to tell him the news - in tears, as he was a thrilled and overwhelmed, adorable new father. :-)

Matt's mum rushed up to visit when Cian was 3 weeks old, and helped me out. My parents, though they couldn't visit, arranged and paid for us to visit them (my father was dreadfully ill and couldn't travel), and I'm always receiving texts, cards, gifts and so on for the baby from them.

I sent Frank messages about Cian, photos, etc...no response.

Are we seeing a pattern here?

Don't get me wrong, he and his family sent a lovely package of clothes and a blanket for Cian, and I love those. But love and attention mean far more than material goods.

Anyhoo... Two days ago we got a call out of the blue, saying that Frank is passing through on the way back from seeing family further north in Scotland. So, could he pop in for a couple of hours and meet his grandson? Of course, we said yes. But I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Of COURSE I'd never stop him seeing his grandson. But I might have problems keeping my normal, sunny and welcoming demeanour with someone who seems so obviously disinterested in his first and only grandchild. It's thrown into further contrast by the doting adoration shown by Cian's other three grandparents - they all adore him, take a huge interest, and are very emotionally supportive of us as a family. They're even all visiting Edinburgh for his first birthday celebrations, which given that it's during the Festival is no small achievement in terms of organisation, will or money!

I just...I don't know. I guess I really can't understand the mindset of a man who's so interested in his "new" family (relatively speaking, he's been with his current wife for many years since breaking with Matt's mum!) that he seems so ambivalent about his firstborn son's baby boy. I feel especially irked because he's always made a big deal about "approving" of me and thinking I'm a great partner for his son. To be honest, though that's a nice thought it doesn't mean much to me, but being interested in my little boy DOES mean a lot to me.

Ahh well, let's see how it goes... My opinion is that he's the one who's losing out, not Cian. Cian's surrounded by such love and care, from so many people, that I reckon he's fairly well insulated against the disinterest of a single family member.

Where did the time go???

Well, there goes my intention to update the blog at least every couple of weeks! Cian's now FAR bigger, and I can't believe he's going to be a year old next month. I seem to have had no time to myself in...well, forever, so I'm sorry this blog got left behind.

Suffice it to say that I will update with all the news whenever I have a moment - I'm hoping to do so this weekend. We're all well, Cian's wonderful, but he's currently getting some of his molar teeth and is in a bit of a mood. Understandable really, when you consider how much adult wisdom teeth can hurt.

I was recently published on a few websites, after I penned a quick poem about Western society's hypocritical attitude towards breasts and breastfeeding. I figured that I may as well pop it in here too, so I don't forget it!

OBSCENE

A mother holds her firstborn child
So tiny, warm and small
Deserving of the best in life
So Mother gives her all

Eschewing any second best
And relegating self
Ignoring stares and whispered spite
To bring her babe good health

Courting disapproval
From a blind society
For breasts not making money
As a sex commodity

She gazes into baby's eyes
So trusting and so new
While girls walk on by, barely dressed
Accepted in full view



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Yes, that's my beautiful baby son at about 3 months old or so, I think. I love this photograph because he looks so contented and cute!

How much LESS obscene can you get, than the sight of an innocent baby eating his lunch the way Nature intended? Nothing to be ashamed of, everything to go "awww" at... However, women are harrassed every day for this, told to cover up, go elsewhere or even just stay home. At the same time, scantily-clad women are used to sell cars, chocolate or themselves (think Hooters et al), and nobody blinks an eye at half-dressed women and men walking down the street or dancing in clubs. Context is all. The world would be a better place for everyone if public nursing was celebrated rather than denigrated.