This week, I had it planned. I was going to insist Liam feed himself.
He has the idea that it's inappropriate and evil for us to expect him to touch his food. That's our job!
People kept telling us, "Just put food in front of him in his tray. When he's hungry he'll eat it." That baby would have starved to death before he did that. It would have been like telling him, "You can have your food when you solve these differential equations. I can wait."
And now I know what the barrier was. When it was clear he was going to have to pick up that spoon, he would try to take it, bang the food out by accident, say "Neh neh neh!" (means something like "NOOOOOOOOOOO!") and push the spoon away. That is, he was frustrated and angry. He did the same thing when he dropped food as it was going into his mouth. Liam, the Perfectionist Baby. "If I can't do it right," he said, "then I won't do it at all!"
I guide it to his mouth and don't let him drop it. He hasn't got it yet that you have to hold the spoon even when it's touching your mouth. If I didn't help, he'd drop it, or leave it sticking out of his mouth like a lollipop stick.
For finger food, I pick it up and wait for him to take it, and make sure he doesn't drop it before it's in.
He tried dodges. Trying to get his mouth close enough to the tray that he could take it out of my hand. He'd grab my or Marisa's hand with the finger-food and pull it and leave us the responsibility of stuffing it in. (I put it so my hand was out of reach but the food wasn't.) Marisa also reported him smiling and leaning his head to one side. "I'm too cute to have to feed myself!"
"Nobody's that cute," I said. He laughed.
![]( "2010-05-20 eating pizza")
In case you're wondering, no, he doesn't get distressed from the feel of icky food on his hands. I learned that about a year ago: I mashed up banana and shoved it onto his palms. He looked at me -- "What was that about?" -- and went back to waiting for me to put food in his mouth. So it's not a sensitivity thing.
A former priest of our parish, visiting, told Liam -- and us -- the secret of the good life: "pizza, and chocolate." So today I cut pizza into strips, moved it so he couldn't use my hand as a remote, and waited for him to grab it.
By the end of lunch he was carrying it the whole way, and when it wouldn't quite fit in, he'd follow my modeling of using his hand, not mine, to stuff it in. He wasn't good at it, but he did take at least one bite unaided except for the initial hand-off.
I wonder what it's like when other babies learn this?
Might have been easier if we'd taught him this before he learned pouting, which was sometime last week. (A PT told us, yes, that's a developmental skill.)
Meanwhile, Charles has smiled (3 days ago), and has decided to bat at a dangly toy. Lord, look at that face.
He has the idea that it's inappropriate and evil for us to expect him to touch his food. That's our job!
People kept telling us, "Just put food in front of him in his tray. When he's hungry he'll eat it." That baby would have starved to death before he did that. It would have been like telling him, "You can have your food when you solve these differential equations. I can wait."
And now I know what the barrier was. When it was clear he was going to have to pick up that spoon, he would try to take it, bang the food out by accident, say "Neh neh neh!" (means something like "NOOOOOOOOOOO!") and push the spoon away. That is, he was frustrated and angry. He did the same thing when he dropped food as it was going into his mouth. Liam, the Perfectionist Baby. "If I can't do it right," he said, "then I won't do it at all!"
I guide it to his mouth and don't let him drop it. He hasn't got it yet that you have to hold the spoon even when it's touching your mouth. If I didn't help, he'd drop it, or leave it sticking out of his mouth like a lollipop stick.
For finger food, I pick it up and wait for him to take it, and make sure he doesn't drop it before it's in.
He tried dodges. Trying to get his mouth close enough to the tray that he could take it out of my hand. He'd grab my or Marisa's hand with the finger-food and pull it and leave us the responsibility of stuffing it in. (I put it so my hand was out of reach but the food wasn't.) Marisa also reported him smiling and leaning his head to one side. "I'm too cute to have to feed myself!"
"Nobody's that cute," I said. He laughed.
In case you're wondering, no, he doesn't get distressed from the feel of icky food on his hands. I learned that about a year ago: I mashed up banana and shoved it onto his palms. He looked at me -- "What was that about?" -- and went back to waiting for me to put food in his mouth. So it's not a sensitivity thing.A former priest of our parish, visiting, told Liam -- and us -- the secret of the good life: "pizza, and chocolate." So today I cut pizza into strips, moved it so he couldn't use my hand as a remote, and waited for him to grab it.
By the end of lunch he was carrying it the whole way, and when it wouldn't quite fit in, he'd follow my modeling of using his hand, not mine, to stuff it in. He wasn't good at it, but he did take at least one bite unaided except for the initial hand-off.
I wonder what it's like when other babies learn this?
Might have been easier if we'd taught him this before he learned pouting, which was sometime last week. (A PT told us, yes, that's a developmental skill.)
Meanwhile, Charles has smiled (3 days ago), and has decided to bat at a dangly toy. Lord, look at that face.
