One of the hard truths about life is that before you can do something well, you first have to do it abysmally. Everything is learned slowly and with lots of practice and (seeming) failure.
When you're raising children this learning process, unfortunately, leads to a lot of messes as well.
And so it was that I handed Phoebe a little bowl of yummy homemade yogurt at dinner this evening. The homemade part is important because Andrew's been making it super thick lately, so that when we mix in the fruit compotes (which Andrew also makes from scratch) it can get a little runnier without getting too runny. Anyway, the thicker yogurt is a little less scary to hand over to a baby than runny yogurt.
Phoebe had plain yogurt with freshly sliced mangoes for dinner, which she fed to herself.
It went...well.
Her theory seemed to be that if she simply smeared yogurt on every surface, then any surface she licked would taste like yogurt. It was a flawless plan and she was happy the entire meal!
Lick the outside of the bowl—yogurt!
Lick the highchair tray—yogurt!
Lick the spoon—yogurt!
Lick her hands—yogurt!
Everything last bite was delicious!
She often squawks for more, more, more during dinner, so I'm constantly having to shovel more food into her mouth or offer her more bits of this'n'that (she flat out threw a fit the other night when I offered her some little baby puffs instead of a cheese roll like everyone else was having...so she got some cheese roll (store-bought, of course, since we still don't have an oven)). Tonight she was content to smear—and then lick—yogurt on (or from) everything. Very little squawking.
She might have me converted to her method of yogurt-consumption...
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