Zen and the Art of Baby Food

Formula is disgusting. It looks like sour milk and smells the same going down as it does coming up (which it does...often). It's even worse with the triplets because they have all kinds of thickeners to add and specific kinds of powder that, if possible, smell even worse than the usual stuff. I always told myself that life would improve monumentally when the formula was retired.

Note to future 'mom' self: things don't ever get easier as children get older, they just get...different.

Case in point: baby food.

To start things off, I have a confession. (When making confessions, I always wish I had a reality show confession room with a comfy couch and a camera that I could look into and say things like, "I'm not here to make friends.")
My confession is this: not all baby food is gross. I have a tendency to lick excess apples, pears and prunes (Ya, I like prunes...sorry my stomach is 80 years old) off of the lids. This action hurts no one, albeit makes me seem a little more ridiculous as a caregiver. I'll probably be one of those moms who must 'test' certain baked goods for poison before my children can enjoy them...and some of them will indeed have poison and I will sacrifice myself and eat the entire muffin/cupcake/donut to ensure the safety of my children.

Now, don't be fooled by the small selection of acceptable fruits...the rest are vile. I'm not a fan of squash in its usual, ridiculous-looking form, but when you mash it, smash it, puree it and shove it into a plastic cube, it loses any of the appeal it held previously (like, for butternut squash fries and...that's about it).

And opening the small bins of disgusting? I feel like Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark as I carefully peel back the vacuum packed plastic protection sheet. (Side note: EVERYTHING is vacuum packed...including the smell. Yummy.) The carrots, peas, green beans, etc. are just waiting in there to explode in your face, and there's no way to stop it. No matter how carefully you peel, no matter how quickly or slowly you do it, it always manages to go "PLEH" and get little droplets on your hands and face. But never the fruits, oh no...never something that you have no problem licking off your hand; it's always the whipped vegetables that even the dog won't touch.

After it's all opened, and in the bowl or on the spoon, there's still another obstacle course ahead of you: feeding. They should have had this be one of the events on that Nickelodeon game show, "GUTS". I have a theory that "16 and Pregnant" wouldn't exist if America's 12-year-olds were subjected to feeding an infant strained peas in lieu of the Aggro Crag. (Let's go to Mo!)
I think my wards know something I don't about skin care, because they have a new way of eating that involves shoving the food through their face instead of into their mouth, but their skin is flawless.
New night time regime: baby carrot face mask.

I keep telling myself that it will get easier once they're eating solid foods, or at least move past runny sweet potatoes for every meal, but then I remember that the next 'step' for them is the blended turkey dinner...I think I'll stick with what I know.