The minute I put Baby S in his high chair he becomes a miniature many-armed Hindu God grabbing spoons away quicker than I can wash them. When I sit down to feed Baby S I bring no less than 5 spoons with me. Baby S actually does enjoy his food, but he and I have not mastered the dance that is feeding. Sometimes he leans forward too eagerly and bumps his head on the spoon. Sometimes he turns away at the last moment and gets a cheek full of peas. Sometimes he decides to practice blowing raspberries while eating and sprays pureed pears all over my face. And it doesn't help that he requires a thumb chaser after each bite. As soon as the spoon comes out, in pops the thumb. Before each new bite I extract a sticky, gooey thumb from Baby S's mouth. After a few spoonfuls Baby S's face and hands are covered in food, along with my face, the walls and floor. Food dribbles down his chin, leaks under his bib and stains the neckline of his shirt. We go through this process 3 times a day, along with the requisite clothes changing and clean up. Once Baby S is fed, I proceed to feed the rest of us, who are generally, but I must admit not always, a bit neater.
