Sunday, November 27, 2011

Food, Formula and Freedom




I started testing foods last week. I was so excited. After living on millet, rice, turkey, chicken, apples, avocado, squash and carrots for 7 weeks, I was jonesing for, well, almost anything;).  And what better time for new foods than Thanksgiving?  I would be infinitely thankful...

But beef brought lots of bitching and yams led to all out yells. By the Wednesday night before Tday, I was in tears of self-pity. Traditionally, I would have had a host of yummies prepared for the following day.  But thanks to the damn yams, the baby had not embodied the spirit if cooperation, and I had only managed to leave flours and butter warming on the cabinet all day.  Fine, fine, the boys could piggy-back on everyone else's victuals, but I guessed both meals would be devoid of millet.  And the turkeys would likely sport a butter basting.  Bah.

But everything is better after a night's sleep (even a nursed through night's sleep!) and apples and avocado were easily acceptable amid the next morning's excitement to leave.  Heck, I would look at it as a freeing technique.  A sweet little challenge along the road to "no expectations."  Why couldn't Tday just be about family and thanks?  Apples and avocados?  Screw pies and stuffing!

Zia and I weathered the tasty filled tables, buoyed by baby smiles, sans yams.  And I laughed later when I saw this chart:


Except for the vegan bit, we had it nailed ;)

Despite my best intentions, some dismay crept in.  She hadn't done well with any food additions yet.  I'd kinda figured 7 weeks ago that we'd go 2 weeks eating everything but the big triggers and then start adding those back in too.  Figure out which of the big guns were gonna go until she was older.  And then I'd spent 5 more weeks dropping more and more (and more) foods.  

Which meant my loved ones (even, gasp, E!) started dropping the F word.  Yah, formula.  Seemingly such an easy way out.  What was I?  Silly stubborn?  Heck, E could even heat the shit in the middle of the night!  I wouldn't be on perma-baby-duty!

Now, I'm not gonna knock this mind-set.  I know a lotta awesome mamas that go this route.  The constancy is too much.  They work and abhor pumping.  It feels like the hubby has it easy.  Or maybe they hate millet :)  I know the feeling of freedom figures into this for a few.  Whether that be the freedom to eat whatever you want or the freedom to take your ta-ta's to town on your own schedule.  Whatever the various reasons, formula is first choice in the first world nations.  So it seems pretty silly to some to be so bothered with this breast business.  Especially without sleep or chocolate to back you up!  

But there are a whole host of reasons WHO recommends breast as best for the first two years.  I'm not going to bother with links here.  The studies are countless.  Assuming the mother isn't seriously malnourished, the fact is unarguable (at this time, at least.  Maybe someday they'll have a clever chemical concoction to rival thousands of years of evolution, but color me doubtful on that one:)  

And my personal reason can be summed up in that one word. Evolution.  Cultural trends (from deities to dishwashing to the damn F word) come and go.  But babies evolved to do certain things.  In a certain way.  To eat a perfectly balanced food that is always clean and untainted by unwantables, that grows and changes as the baby does.  To be held while they sleep (read that short link!), that physical contact providing them safety and the stimulation they need for their brains to grow properly.  Three bedroom houses and baby monitors have popped up faster than baby brains evolve - they're still operating under jungle rules.  And it seems like massive cheating (and plain 'ol mean) to switch the rules on the little squishies without being able to tell them :)  Call me a "Continuum Concept" crazy, but I drank that kool-aide without ever even reading the book.  It just jives with me.

And, after the formula companies adding some new, essential something or other into their mixes every few years, (ummm, what about the babies that didn't get the newest new and improved formula?!) label me loonie for not trusting chemists to grow my baby's essentials.  Nah, me and my millet will do just fine.  

Yah, it sucks to never eat out.  And I miss cooking one meal for the whole family.  And Ethan has been on the wrong end of my hairy eyeball a Lot in the last month.  (The man, still feeding freely, seems to forget my limited choices, offering me yogurt, eggs or pizza with well fed gaiety...)  But, cliche as it is, and despite my long whiny post on the subject, Zia is more than worth it.  I'm hoping we caught it all early enough that she'll eat freely at four, her gut all healthy and her palate strangely fond of millet...

Of course, I'm kinda cocky right now.  She's all smiles and I've added pumpkin seeds, quinoa and the most delicious raw cranberry orange relish (well done, Daddy!!!) this side of 7 weeks.  If tomatoes tank tomorrow, I might change my tune :)





  

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