Feeding Method
The twins are harder to feed solids to than Abbie was at that age. At least, I think that statement is true. Perhaps time has colored my earliest memories of spoon-feeding Abbie, shading them a happier hue of … happy. Maybe Abbie shared all of their bad habits at first. Maybe the way I lovingly shoveled food into her maw shaped her into the super eater I remember. Maybe the boys will also learn to be super eaters, provided my shoveling style works as efficiently while splitting my attention three ways.
Not that the boys are horrible eaters. I give thanks every day that I have easy going babies like Ian and Tory to care for, instead of those demanding and perpetually cranky babies like Abbie was. Feeding time, along with being-carried time, was one of the few times she was happy at that age, so I tired to protract it as much as possible with tiny spoonfuls of solids, slow-flow nipples, and frequent burp breaks. The boys are usually as happy on the floor as they are being fed, so I speed through their feedings with heaping spoonfuls of solids, fast-flow nipples since the day we brought them home, and one burping at the end of the feeding. I need to move quickly because Abbie has learned how to climb up to her Goldfish stash while I’m occupied.
Like I was saying before that sleep-deprivation induced tangent, the boys have a few bad feeding habits, starting with the screaming. If I take too long to serve their food, they boys turn angry. Abbie was the same way, as I assume most babies are, as well as most people in general as anyone who’s had to wait five minutes in the drive-thru for a shamrock shake can attest to. When Abbie started screaming from impatience, all I had to do was fill her mouth with food. She’d calm down immediately, turning her attention to the banana dancing across her palette with just a hint of oatmeal. The boys on the other hand stay angry. I can still quiet them down by filling their mouths with food, but their silence stems mostly from the fact that there’s too much food blocking their screaming equipment. When this happens, I have to finish with the solids as quickly as I can, hoping that one of the boys is still happy with his apples, and move on to what they really want: The bottle.
If the boys are calm when we start, they usually stay calm through the feeding. Sometimes they will turn upset before emptying their bowl, but this happens less often now that I’ve learned they don’t like infant cereal. That was a disappointing discovery since we stockpiled about a half-dozen boxes of infant cereal. Some of it was leftover from Abbie’s stash, but most of it came from friends and neighbors who no longer had use for it, possibly because their babies hated it too. I realized my boys hated it as they cried more often the more of it I dumped into their food in a desperate attempt to use a half-dozen boxes of infant cereal. As soon as I stopped using it, meals turned a lot happier. That’s a shame since infant cereal was a cornerstone of Abbie’s diet until she hit about 15 months and Ellie pointed out that maybe her diet should move beyond infant mush like rice cereal, and into adult mush like yogurt.
One bad habit I know Abbie shared with her brothers is blowing raspberries at mealtime, I just thought Abbie waited a while longer before doing it. Both boys can spit their food, but the primary offender is Ian. Tory enjoys his food too much to waste it on non-swallowing activities. Ian can be very bad about spitting his food, usually when I try to feed him a brightly colored food like carrots while I’m wearing a white shirt. My mother has accused me on multiple occasions of teaching him to blow raspberries, apparently because I seem like the kind of guy who enjoys cleaning splattered spinach off the wall.
Ian’s spittings have decreased since I started ignoring all raspberry-like sounds. I no longer bless him after sneezes because it seems he started making a sneezing sound just to get attention. Likewise, I no longer mimic him and blow raspberries back. I used to do that because you’re supposed to encourage oral sounds and imitation. Otherwise your child might grow up to be a late talker. Of course, I used this mimicry during my feeding methods with Abbie, and look where that got her speech skills.
Not that the boys are horrible eaters. I give thanks every day that I have easy going babies like Ian and Tory to care for, instead of those demanding and perpetually cranky babies like Abbie was. Feeding time, along with being-carried time, was one of the few times she was happy at that age, so I tired to protract it as much as possible with tiny spoonfuls of solids, slow-flow nipples, and frequent burp breaks. The boys are usually as happy on the floor as they are being fed, so I speed through their feedings with heaping spoonfuls of solids, fast-flow nipples since the day we brought them home, and one burping at the end of the feeding. I need to move quickly because Abbie has learned how to climb up to her Goldfish stash while I’m occupied.
Like I was saying before that sleep-deprivation induced tangent, the boys have a few bad feeding habits, starting with the screaming. If I take too long to serve their food, they boys turn angry. Abbie was the same way, as I assume most babies are, as well as most people in general as anyone who’s had to wait five minutes in the drive-thru for a shamrock shake can attest to. When Abbie started screaming from impatience, all I had to do was fill her mouth with food. She’d calm down immediately, turning her attention to the banana dancing across her palette with just a hint of oatmeal. The boys on the other hand stay angry. I can still quiet them down by filling their mouths with food, but their silence stems mostly from the fact that there’s too much food blocking their screaming equipment. When this happens, I have to finish with the solids as quickly as I can, hoping that one of the boys is still happy with his apples, and move on to what they really want: The bottle.
If the boys are calm when we start, they usually stay calm through the feeding. Sometimes they will turn upset before emptying their bowl, but this happens less often now that I’ve learned they don’t like infant cereal. That was a disappointing discovery since we stockpiled about a half-dozen boxes of infant cereal. Some of it was leftover from Abbie’s stash, but most of it came from friends and neighbors who no longer had use for it, possibly because their babies hated it too. I realized my boys hated it as they cried more often the more of it I dumped into their food in a desperate attempt to use a half-dozen boxes of infant cereal. As soon as I stopped using it, meals turned a lot happier. That’s a shame since infant cereal was a cornerstone of Abbie’s diet until she hit about 15 months and Ellie pointed out that maybe her diet should move beyond infant mush like rice cereal, and into adult mush like yogurt.
One bad habit I know Abbie shared with her brothers is blowing raspberries at mealtime, I just thought Abbie waited a while longer before doing it. Both boys can spit their food, but the primary offender is Ian. Tory enjoys his food too much to waste it on non-swallowing activities. Ian can be very bad about spitting his food, usually when I try to feed him a brightly colored food like carrots while I’m wearing a white shirt. My mother has accused me on multiple occasions of teaching him to blow raspberries, apparently because I seem like the kind of guy who enjoys cleaning splattered spinach off the wall.
Ian’s spittings have decreased since I started ignoring all raspberry-like sounds. I no longer bless him after sneezes because it seems he started making a sneezing sound just to get attention. Likewise, I no longer mimic him and blow raspberries back. I used to do that because you’re supposed to encourage oral sounds and imitation. Otherwise your child might grow up to be a late talker. Of course, I used this mimicry during my feeding methods with Abbie, and look where that got her speech skills.
posted by Matt at
11:36 PM
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