Thank you again for all of your suggestions about my mysterious head woes. Several people mentioned allergies and I have to admit: I am in total denial about allergies. I don't actually think that I have seasonal allergies (or haven't in the past) and my head was much the same in the city as out if it this weekend when we traveled, but I think that I entirely failed to mention that I had an appointment with an allergist last month.
It came to my attention that I had a cold. And had had the same cold going on ... say ... 3 years. I kept thinking that it was pregnancy-related (something about the hormone relaxin) but it never cleared up after the dumpling was born. So I finally made an appointment last month and saw a doctor who I really, really liked (and that is pretty rare. He would be #3 of all of the doctors I see who instantly inspired trust. He also was entirely unrushed and sat in the office with me during the allergy test rather than delegating that job to a nurse plus he spent a good while researching my mysterious post-partum rash and reassuring me about what it might mean for the future). We ran any number of tests (excluding those to which my known allergies might be too severe and void other results. Last time I had these tests done I landed up in the ER ...) and everything was as expected.
Mild allergies to some trees, dust, etc. ... and ... wait ... impossible ... chocolate and eggs?
Apparently it is possible to develop more allergies as an adult. Even to food. We are both a bit skeptical about the results, although I certainly eat both of those items on a daily basis. His suggestion was to give both up for 2 weeks and then eat a lot all at once and see how I feel. It sounds logically and reasonable but there's a part of me that just can't quite imagine seriously giving up these 2 foods for the rest of my life. I mean, there aren't so many good substitutes for eggs (I don't eat meat out and am a bit queasy about fish while nursing, so if I want protein it's eggs or cheese) and giving up chocolate would be just sad.
Of course, it's possible these are false positives. It's also possible that I am allergic but the reaction will remain quite as mild as it is now (a low-grade cold year round). I don't think it's linked to the headaches, but any advice on coming to terms with giving up 2 of the best foods in the world would be much appreciated.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
An update on my head and my educational angst
Thank you for all of your wisdom. I did indeed go see my favorite nurse practitioner yesterday afternoon and her advice was very much in line with yours. First she asked me what I was really worried about, and I said something serious like a tumor or a virus so she ruled those out. These are the possible explanations she suggested:
- pregnancy (hahahaha and nope)
- anemia (ran bloodwork)
- need glasses (suggested eye exam)
- exhaustion (I am tired but still getting plenty of sleep every night. 6-7 hours is enough for my body)
- dehydration
- some type of weird interaction with my increase-your-bust nursing supplements. Seems highly unlikely but worth considering
And thus her firm advice was to drink more and take a power nap every afternoon. Definitely advice I can get behind. And I'll call and check the lab results and also schedule an eye exam just in case since the bulk of my job nowadays is staring at my 2 computer screens. And to come back next week if there's no improvement.
And then yesterday mid-headache I went on a playdate with a woman I met while out and about. She also had 2 kids and lives a few blocks away so I figured it was worth a try. And it just reminded me how diverse our very neighborhood is. In the span of 20 minutes she had dropped the fact that they have a chef and a cleaning lady in addition to the full-time nanny, but what really got my attention was when she mentioned being worried that her nanny would feel overwhelmed with 2 kids. That's great, I thought, concern for how your nanny is doing is an excellent start. And her solution? To hire a second nanny 2 mornings a week to take the baby to "his classes" which conflict with their daughter's classes. He's 8 weeks old and she's 2. And they go to class: music and gym for him, art, gym and music for her.
And then out of the blue this morning JD asks whether the fusspot could have started school this fall? Of course, I replied with rather a good deal of annoyance. Here I am obsessing over raising a bilingual daughter, giving her time to play but also offering her fun opportunities, future applications and my husband doesn't even know age kids start preschool in the big city. JD looks up surprised from their game of blocks and laughs and says "that would have been funny to see or tiny little girl go off to school with her big backpack on" and returns to the blocks. Yeah.
- pregnancy (hahahaha and nope)
- anemia (ran bloodwork)
- need glasses (suggested eye exam)
- exhaustion (I am tired but still getting plenty of sleep every night. 6-7 hours is enough for my body)
- dehydration
- some type of weird interaction with my increase-your-bust nursing supplements. Seems highly unlikely but worth considering
And thus her firm advice was to drink more and take a power nap every afternoon. Definitely advice I can get behind. And I'll call and check the lab results and also schedule an eye exam just in case since the bulk of my job nowadays is staring at my 2 computer screens. And to come back next week if there's no improvement.
And then yesterday mid-headache I went on a playdate with a woman I met while out and about. She also had 2 kids and lives a few blocks away so I figured it was worth a try. And it just reminded me how diverse our very neighborhood is. In the span of 20 minutes she had dropped the fact that they have a chef and a cleaning lady in addition to the full-time nanny, but what really got my attention was when she mentioned being worried that her nanny would feel overwhelmed with 2 kids. That's great, I thought, concern for how your nanny is doing is an excellent start. And her solution? To hire a second nanny 2 mornings a week to take the baby to "his classes" which conflict with their daughter's classes. He's 8 weeks old and she's 2. And they go to class: music and gym for him, art, gym and music for her.
And then out of the blue this morning JD asks whether the fusspot could have started school this fall? Of course, I replied with rather a good deal of annoyance. Here I am obsessing over raising a bilingual daughter, giving her time to play but also offering her fun opportunities, future applications and my husband doesn't even know age kids start preschool in the big city. JD looks up surprised from their game of blocks and laughs and says "that would have been funny to see or tiny little girl go off to school with her big backpack on" and returns to the blocks. Yeah.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Let's all play Dr. Google
I hear that crowd sourcing is the new thing. Or maybe it's just that my head hurts too much to think properly myself.
So here is the question of the day, my dear readers: any thoughts on what I should ask the doctor as a possible explanation for about 2 weeks of intense headaches, mostly in the late afternoon/early evening and often combined with dizzy spells. Besides the big picture things (IF, stomach problems, insulin resistance) my health has actually been rather excellent over the past year or so and so I'm more than a little nervous that I've been getting recurring headaches for the past 2 weeks.
Nothing allergy-wise going on in the big city. Definitely unrelated to my swollen foot (since that started yesterday). I was going to have them check my iron levels since I am prone to go super-anemic. Anything else I should ask about? My guess is that I will otherwise be released with the advice to take tylenol in less than 90 seconds (and that probably is the most appropriate medical advice). Suggestions? Thoughts? Anyone want to come run my life for me while I curl up in a ball in a dark room and nap?
So here is the question of the day, my dear readers: any thoughts on what I should ask the doctor as a possible explanation for about 2 weeks of intense headaches, mostly in the late afternoon/early evening and often combined with dizzy spells. Besides the big picture things (IF, stomach problems, insulin resistance) my health has actually been rather excellent over the past year or so and so I'm more than a little nervous that I've been getting recurring headaches for the past 2 weeks.
Nothing allergy-wise going on in the big city. Definitely unrelated to my swollen foot (since that started yesterday). I was going to have them check my iron levels since I am prone to go super-anemic. Anything else I should ask about? My guess is that I will otherwise be released with the advice to take tylenol in less than 90 seconds (and that probably is the most appropriate medical advice). Suggestions? Thoughts? Anyone want to come run my life for me while I curl up in a ball in a dark room and nap?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
The good news is that we're on the charts
the bad news is that we're not exactly even rocking the double digits. 5th percentile for height and miraculously 25th for weight (at 6 months). I was so deeply relieved that our little guy is still on the growth charts that I just nodded and smiled when our brand new pediatrician mentioned the dumpling, henceforth to be known as the miniature baby, needed a lot of shots.
Yup. This terrible mother did not realize that for their final screw-you moment our old pediatrician managed to send the new one an incomplete chart. So now we've double vaccinated our poor little guy for just about everything. Let me assure you that there were words with the old office but nothing to be done.
And after a lovely weekend upstate where we played pass the baby around the wedding (I really do think that the bride and groom could easily put together a whole album of "Who is holding baby now? Subtitled: Does this little guy even have a mother?" from their wedding. Mostly facilitated by a please-no-babies line that we flagrantly ignored (albeit leaving the fusspot with a friend's babysitter). I mean, the mother of the groom was seen dancing with the little guy and all three photographers confessed to me that they were missing their own babies, plus who can resist a baby in a sports coat and my miniature man did not so much as fuss through a 7 hour event ...), I was running around the apartment and bashed up my toe. Currently sitting with my whole foot in a tub of ice water trying to figure out if it's broken. I'm not exactly sure how our mile commute to daycare would work with a broken toe and I have to be someplace at 9 am tomorrow ...
Yup. This terrible mother did not realize that for their final screw-you moment our old pediatrician managed to send the new one an incomplete chart. So now we've double vaccinated our poor little guy for just about everything. Let me assure you that there were words with the old office but nothing to be done.
And after a lovely weekend upstate where we played pass the baby around the wedding (I really do think that the bride and groom could easily put together a whole album of "Who is holding baby now? Subtitled: Does this little guy even have a mother?" from their wedding. Mostly facilitated by a please-no-babies line that we flagrantly ignored (albeit leaving the fusspot with a friend's babysitter). I mean, the mother of the groom was seen dancing with the little guy and all three photographers confessed to me that they were missing their own babies, plus who can resist a baby in a sports coat and my miniature man did not so much as fuss through a 7 hour event ...), I was running around the apartment and bashed up my toe. Currently sitting with my whole foot in a tub of ice water trying to figure out if it's broken. I'm not exactly sure how our mile commute to daycare would work with a broken toe and I have to be someplace at 9 am tomorrow ...
Thursday, September 8, 2011
To push or not to push
Let's just start with the obvious: we live in a rather extreme part of the country, in a particularly extreme neighborhood. Extreme parenting, that is. And from here the view is a bit hazy as to "age appropriate" and "useful" and "all for show" and "productive." Our general stance has been entirely against pushing our children. When the fusspot had no receptive language skills at 18 months, we grudgingly agreed to a series of hearing tests and an EI evaluation, but we certainly did not push for extra services. And when we started to talk about "preschool application forms" last fall we resolved that the fusspot would stay another year in her home daycare with her little brother: coloring, going to the playground, and picking her nose for up to 20% of her waking hours (yes, we are trying to cut down the cumulative hours on that one a bit), despite the rather loud extortions from our very own daycare provider that she needed preschool (and piano! and ballet! and swimming!) if she was ever going to get into college (it really doesn't help that our daycare provider has both a young child and one just about to head off to college).
And yet, somehow our living room wall looks like this:
And by the way, I cannot tell you how much this particular combination cracks me up. First, there's the electrical tape patching up a home-made insulator for the water pipes and you can see the cracks in the wall. Then there's the delightful absurdity of hanging montessori sandpaper letters (they look quite plain on the wall because they are actually meant to be handled and textural) next to imaginative waldorf letters (the swan and tiger) next to total Americana: beautiful flower alphabet letters which would stump even a 30-year-old. I mean, can you really recognize sweetpeas on the wall? And would you expect your preschool-age kid to do so? The goal is the same but the methods are completely incongruous. And the letter choice comes from a more phonics theme (both letters are in her name).
And then there's the fact that I'll be leaving work early today to take my daughter to "preschool prep class." Ok, so I chose this class because it is: close, cheap, and incredibly designed for 2-year-olds with little siblings in tow and I was hoping to meet some moms in our new neighborhood. But preschool prep class?
On the other hand, the fusspot picked up a book that we bought last week and read it out-loud cover to cover this morning. Twice. And she got about 90% of the words correct (this is obviously pure memorization). She spends at least an hour listening to books every day. She's incredibly verbal and socially clued in and thus far seems to be rocking that delightful developmental "average" that we were so worried about earlier. And so it's easy to go a bit over the top - she's scheduled to take both preschool prep (1 hour a week, late afternoon for working moms) and dance this fall and probably also music (we have a groupon which will cover the fall but I'll drop it if it's too much). She's already immersed in a foreign-language daycare situation.
And then something happens which reminds me that the hazy, fuzzy line probably needs to be a bit brighter. Her dear daycare buddies from last year had to move from NYC to one of those flyover states. And the little boy, who is 6 and in kindergarten, calls almost every day to our daycare to complain about being bored. And I'm sure he is bored in class. I mean, the kid reads well and can do some fairly sophisticated math for someone who still needs help wiping their ass. But he's also bored because he has never had to entertain himself at home for 3 hours on a Sunday morning. He was either in daycare (pretty relaxed but plenty of stimulation and lots of other kids around) or in soccer, piano, language, or swimming class or being lugged around the city to a million exciting "enrichment classes." He's 6 and he has no idea how to play for a few hours at home alone. And if my darling fusspot at 6 can't play I feel that we will have utterly failed as parents (on the other hand, eh, we're going to fail at some point. Maybe we should get it over at this point?).
And today I had a long coffee with a dear childhood friend. A friend whose mother was one of those incredible superwoman mothers. No, she wasn't a high-powered executive who also raised 3 kids and ran a homeless shelter, she was a SAHM who had the most incredible house. I still have dress-up costumes which she sewed for me that I have given to the fusspot 25 years later. I still remember crazy cooking experiments she let us do in her kitchen. I still remember detailed theater productions we staged on the back porch. And her daughter, who is my age, has plenty of prestigious advanced degrees and a successful career and somehow her mother still dreams that she'll quit work and be a SAHM. As my friend put it, what was the point of pushing me through some of the hardest schools in the country if that's what you were really dreaming for my future?
So here we are in that weird year where my fusspot will turn 3 (!) and we somehow have to decide how much is appropriate, what friends we need to just laugh at when they try to compare their toddlers to ours, and how to still make the most of living in an incredible city.
And yet, somehow our living room wall looks like this:
And by the way, I cannot tell you how much this particular combination cracks me up. First, there's the electrical tape patching up a home-made insulator for the water pipes and you can see the cracks in the wall. Then there's the delightful absurdity of hanging montessori sandpaper letters (they look quite plain on the wall because they are actually meant to be handled and textural) next to imaginative waldorf letters (the swan and tiger) next to total Americana: beautiful flower alphabet letters which would stump even a 30-year-old. I mean, can you really recognize sweetpeas on the wall? And would you expect your preschool-age kid to do so? The goal is the same but the methods are completely incongruous. And the letter choice comes from a more phonics theme (both letters are in her name).And then there's the fact that I'll be leaving work early today to take my daughter to "preschool prep class." Ok, so I chose this class because it is: close, cheap, and incredibly designed for 2-year-olds with little siblings in tow and I was hoping to meet some moms in our new neighborhood. But preschool prep class?
On the other hand, the fusspot picked up a book that we bought last week and read it out-loud cover to cover this morning. Twice. And she got about 90% of the words correct (this is obviously pure memorization). She spends at least an hour listening to books every day. She's incredibly verbal and socially clued in and thus far seems to be rocking that delightful developmental "average" that we were so worried about earlier. And so it's easy to go a bit over the top - she's scheduled to take both preschool prep (1 hour a week, late afternoon for working moms) and dance this fall and probably also music (we have a groupon which will cover the fall but I'll drop it if it's too much). She's already immersed in a foreign-language daycare situation.
And then something happens which reminds me that the hazy, fuzzy line probably needs to be a bit brighter. Her dear daycare buddies from last year had to move from NYC to one of those flyover states. And the little boy, who is 6 and in kindergarten, calls almost every day to our daycare to complain about being bored. And I'm sure he is bored in class. I mean, the kid reads well and can do some fairly sophisticated math for someone who still needs help wiping their ass. But he's also bored because he has never had to entertain himself at home for 3 hours on a Sunday morning. He was either in daycare (pretty relaxed but plenty of stimulation and lots of other kids around) or in soccer, piano, language, or swimming class or being lugged around the city to a million exciting "enrichment classes." He's 6 and he has no idea how to play for a few hours at home alone. And if my darling fusspot at 6 can't play I feel that we will have utterly failed as parents (on the other hand, eh, we're going to fail at some point. Maybe we should get it over at this point?).
And today I had a long coffee with a dear childhood friend. A friend whose mother was one of those incredible superwoman mothers. No, she wasn't a high-powered executive who also raised 3 kids and ran a homeless shelter, she was a SAHM who had the most incredible house. I still have dress-up costumes which she sewed for me that I have given to the fusspot 25 years later. I still remember crazy cooking experiments she let us do in her kitchen. I still remember detailed theater productions we staged on the back porch. And her daughter, who is my age, has plenty of prestigious advanced degrees and a successful career and somehow her mother still dreams that she'll quit work and be a SAHM. As my friend put it, what was the point of pushing me through some of the hardest schools in the country if that's what you were really dreaming for my future?
So here we are in that weird year where my fusspot will turn 3 (!) and we somehow have to decide how much is appropriate, what friends we need to just laugh at when they try to compare their toddlers to ours, and how to still make the most of living in an incredible city.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
today
Today I cut the tags off of a brand new orange tank top and put it on.
Today I upgraded from flip-flops to flats.
Today I asked my husband if my outfit was ok.
Today he made me eggs and toast for breakfast.
Because today is twenty-six. My twenty-sixth consecutive first day of school for the new year. Twenty-six.
Please, please, please let this be my last year enrolled as a student.
Today I upgraded from flip-flops to flats.
Today I asked my husband if my outfit was ok.
Today he made me eggs and toast for breakfast.
Because today is twenty-six. My twenty-sixth consecutive first day of school for the new year. Twenty-six.
Please, please, please let this be my last year enrolled as a student.
Monday, September 5, 2011
6 months
This weekend the dumpling turned 6 months. So in his honor a few things that I love about my little guy at 6 months:
- I love how entirely social he is, how he perks up when someone smiles at him
- I love seeing his little bald head pop above the covers in the morning
- I love his obsession with finding and chewing on the laptop cord/breastpump cord/cell phone chargers/camera cord (you would be astounded by how many wires we have to move every day once he gets going)
- I love how he coos at his big sister and never complains when she bops him
- I love how he transforms into a mole-like creature after bedtime who will not open his eyes no matter. He will desperately root around licking pillows/stroller/his father but refuse to open his eyes to find me
- I love how his baldness makes his ears appear to stick straight out from his head
- I love how he grins and laughs when put on our changing pad
- I love how he will seriously try to devour his change of clothes if he can reach them
- I love how he will try to smile even through his tears when I pick him up
Things I am utterly unprepared for: feeding this baby. We have our big 6 month appointment on Friday and I am really, really, really hoping that the little guy has not fallen entirely off the growth charts. He looks fine and is fully mobile at 6 months (rolling 8-10 times in a row, army crawling all the way across our apartment, tripod sitting) and he has a few miniscule little rolls on his arms and thighs but he is hardly chunky in the way that his sister was and he just looks small next to other babies. And while I know that solids theoretically makes breastfeeding easier, I am worried about my supply dropping even more and really want to make solids as fun an experience as it was the first time.
And then there's the little issue of our daycare provider Y and solids. Y adores the dumpling and is a huge proponent of breastfeeding (you know, one of those, of course I nursed until ... my kid was 5), but she also firmly believes in budha-babies (it's a cultural thing) and thus lectures me every day that my pumped milk is not enough for a growing boy. And she somehow let it slip that she had tried to feed the dumpling bananas 2 weeks ago at which point I basically burst into tears. I know she means well, I know that I was always looking for a daycare provider who I trusted to make decisions and I am overwhelmingly thankful that she is an incredibly well-educated loving parent who has her own ideas. But then again, she fed my baby. And so last week when she let slip that she'd tried to feed the dumpling rice puree but his tongue reflex got in the way I just about had it. In my mind I have already dismissed her attempts to feed him (you know, "he didn't really get any in his mouth" inner monologue, and the output seems to corroborate my delusions) but I really want to be the one who first offers my son the incredibly fun experience of playing with food. And here's the thing: she's not going to do self-feeding. It makes her nervous, it's messy and time-consuming and she doesn't believe in it. So unlike the fusspot who basically had only breastmilk at daycare and self-fed from day one (which was at 7 months, no regular meals until 9 months) I need to get used to the idea of the dumpling being spoon-fed. My compromise is that I am going to buy organic jars of baby food and instruct Y that she is not allowed to feed him anything else without my approval (no, I don't believe in rice cereal before 12 months. Neither does LLL. Yes, I am well aware that it will do no harm but I also see no benefit so No, no rice cereal. Or honey).
Which is how I came to be standing in the grocery store this afternoon with a totally panicked look on my face and the clock ticking until I needed to be home to feed the little guy. And when a rather together-looking mother with baby in sling approached I basically grabbed her and said Help! What do I feed my 6 month old? And she sternly advised me to buy jars of peas ("start with something green") and jars of squash and carrots ("not supposed to make those at home anyway") and I exhaled at her excellent advice and nodded and resolutely grabbed all attendant jars and then muttered something about remembering the carrots and nitrate issue from my older baby. And she gave me a rather blank stare as I duly explained that I did indeed have a 2-year-old and all, but um, yeah, I can't bear to think about feeding my 6 month old solids ...
Beats me why this solids issue is so very hard for me at the moment. Maybe it's worrying about my supply, maybe it's artificially being stuck on the idea of using the same method we used the first time (it's called "baby lead weaning," weaning in the British sense of starting solids. Focus on large pieces, no purees). Maybe it's just that my little guy is 6 months old and while he could easily pass for a 3 month old his is in fact about to dive into toys and a real bedtime routine and pulling up ...
- I love how entirely social he is, how he perks up when someone smiles at him
- I love seeing his little bald head pop above the covers in the morning
- I love his obsession with finding and chewing on the laptop cord/breastpump cord/cell phone chargers/camera cord (you would be astounded by how many wires we have to move every day once he gets going)
- I love how he coos at his big sister and never complains when she bops him
- I love how he transforms into a mole-like creature after bedtime who will not open his eyes no matter. He will desperately root around licking pillows/stroller/his father but refuse to open his eyes to find me
- I love how his baldness makes his ears appear to stick straight out from his head
- I love how he grins and laughs when put on our changing pad
- I love how he will seriously try to devour his change of clothes if he can reach them
- I love how he will try to smile even through his tears when I pick him up
Things I am utterly unprepared for: feeding this baby. We have our big 6 month appointment on Friday and I am really, really, really hoping that the little guy has not fallen entirely off the growth charts. He looks fine and is fully mobile at 6 months (rolling 8-10 times in a row, army crawling all the way across our apartment, tripod sitting) and he has a few miniscule little rolls on his arms and thighs but he is hardly chunky in the way that his sister was and he just looks small next to other babies. And while I know that solids theoretically makes breastfeeding easier, I am worried about my supply dropping even more and really want to make solids as fun an experience as it was the first time.
And then there's the little issue of our daycare provider Y and solids. Y adores the dumpling and is a huge proponent of breastfeeding (you know, one of those, of course I nursed until ... my kid was 5), but she also firmly believes in budha-babies (it's a cultural thing) and thus lectures me every day that my pumped milk is not enough for a growing boy. And she somehow let it slip that she had tried to feed the dumpling bananas 2 weeks ago at which point I basically burst into tears. I know she means well, I know that I was always looking for a daycare provider who I trusted to make decisions and I am overwhelmingly thankful that she is an incredibly well-educated loving parent who has her own ideas. But then again, she fed my baby. And so last week when she let slip that she'd tried to feed the dumpling rice puree but his tongue reflex got in the way I just about had it. In my mind I have already dismissed her attempts to feed him (you know, "he didn't really get any in his mouth" inner monologue, and the output seems to corroborate my delusions) but I really want to be the one who first offers my son the incredibly fun experience of playing with food. And here's the thing: she's not going to do self-feeding. It makes her nervous, it's messy and time-consuming and she doesn't believe in it. So unlike the fusspot who basically had only breastmilk at daycare and self-fed from day one (which was at 7 months, no regular meals until 9 months) I need to get used to the idea of the dumpling being spoon-fed. My compromise is that I am going to buy organic jars of baby food and instruct Y that she is not allowed to feed him anything else without my approval (no, I don't believe in rice cereal before 12 months. Neither does LLL. Yes, I am well aware that it will do no harm but I also see no benefit so No, no rice cereal. Or honey).
Which is how I came to be standing in the grocery store this afternoon with a totally panicked look on my face and the clock ticking until I needed to be home to feed the little guy. And when a rather together-looking mother with baby in sling approached I basically grabbed her and said Help! What do I feed my 6 month old? And she sternly advised me to buy jars of peas ("start with something green") and jars of squash and carrots ("not supposed to make those at home anyway") and I exhaled at her excellent advice and nodded and resolutely grabbed all attendant jars and then muttered something about remembering the carrots and nitrate issue from my older baby. And she gave me a rather blank stare as I duly explained that I did indeed have a 2-year-old and all, but um, yeah, I can't bear to think about feeding my 6 month old solids ...
Beats me why this solids issue is so very hard for me at the moment. Maybe it's worrying about my supply, maybe it's artificially being stuck on the idea of using the same method we used the first time (it's called "baby lead weaning," weaning in the British sense of starting solids. Focus on large pieces, no purees). Maybe it's just that my little guy is 6 months old and while he could easily pass for a 3 month old his is in fact about to dive into toys and a real bedtime routine and pulling up ...
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