Monday, January 17, 2011

Sunday Dinner

Last night a couple of friends came over for dinner--6 adults and 4 kids.

The menu was a little eclectic. Orange-Almond Chicken (from this cookbook which we were given for our wedding and I love. Simple, quick recipes), whole-wheat pasta with pesto and a green salad. One of the families who came asked if they could bring sweet potatoes with apples and the other called to see if they could bring homemade bread and cookies. Why yes...yes you can. Here is a picture of the table after we'd eaten. The Chex and sippy cups weren't actually part of dinner but little hands almost never say no to a Chex after-dinner snack.

After dinner husbands and wives seemed to congregate in different areas and we talked for a long time. A highlight of the evening was when one of the mom's asked about Claire. I said, "oh. She's going through one of those phases where she isn't really eating."

I swear you could hear crickets chirping. After a long pause someone said, "like she's just drinking formula* because she's not interested in solid food?"

"No," I said "like she's just not eating."

Crickets again people. Crickets. Finally one of the dads said, "Yeah. Our baby never did that."

Claire seems to be well adjusted and happy so I'm not going to dwell on it too much.

This morning as I finished washing the dishes (yes, I didn't finish cleaning up until this morning. Feel free to judge) Claire was playing on the ottoman. The slanted light coming through the living room was so lovely and her cheerful singing was such a nice sound that I had to take a picture. It turned out a little grainy. She is wearing my favorite pajamas (from here). When I first got them I didn't think they fit because they were so hard to put on the feet. The tag, however, explained that this is on purpose and is to either help them not suffocate or not catch on fire. I don't remember which. I love these pajamas because they really show off her physique. Skinny arms and legs; big tummy. Takes after her mom.

*Yes I feed my baby formula. I know that nursing is better and I'm sure that I'll have to pay for counseling or something at some point but really, if I were a dairy cow I would have been slaughtered.


  1. Who would dare judge the mother of such a happy (and adorable) baby?

  2. If we had been there, the crickets wouldn't have chirped. I swear Gabe has lived on air for approximately the past 4 1/2 years. Some years it's more air than others.

    So yes, I would understand the "not eating" phase :-) The good news is: he's still alive and, while as a baby he was in the 0-5th percentile for weight, around age 3 he made it up to the 25th! Yahoo!

  3. The word I had to type to verify the fact that I'm a human, not a robot was "aspiatic". I have no idea if it's a real word, but the sound of it just makes me so happy! Aspiatic, aspiatic, aspiatic. To me, it sounds yellow and cheerful, like bright morning sun shining on the ocean. Or elegantly jiggling, like an aspic.

    I'm going to stop commenting on your blog now. You're making me ramble publicly. How embarrassing.

  4. On second thought, it also sounds just a little snide. Really, I'm done now.