I'll just throw it on the floor next time...

The search for foods that Jeremy will eat is continual and not very fruitful. Some flavors he seems initially intrigued by, but the texture is too much for his sensitive palate. Or the taste itself triggers his spitting-out muscles, accompanied by dramatic facial expressions of disgust and betrayal. Often, he simply turns his head decisively away from the spoon upon the mere whiff. "No. Nope. No thank you." We try grains of all kinds, like bagels and bread and panckaes. We try veggies, fruits, cheeses, tofu. I grind freshly grilled turkey in the Kitchen-Aid. Most of these things he flatly rejects. Sure, there are a handful of things he will regularly eat, but, come on, can a kid really live on yogurt and Cheerios?

Imagine my hysteria, then, when I was unloading the dishwasher yesterday morning, and Jeremy picked up a small cubed carrot off of the inside of the dishwasher door. The same carrot that I had lovingly steamed and set upon his tray the night before. The same carrot that he shrivelled his nose up at first sight and then pushed away and ignored. And yet, here, this next morning, after the carrot had gone through the energy-saving wash cycle, complete with soap and food debris swirling around bombarding the carrot with hurricane force, and after this carrot had somehow missed its cue to exit through the garbage disposal at the bottom of the machine, here, the soap-soaked, beaten-up carrot became the object of Jeremy's desire. And he popped it into his mouth!

We also went visiting yesterday. I will hold the location confidential, so as not to bring any dishonor or bad thoughts upon my friend. See, the friend has a full house, juggling people and animals ... and let's just say that Mr. Clean hadn't visited the floor anytime recently. Which is fine by me (she who juggles people and animals in her own glass house and will therefore not throw rocks), but I know others may find this disconcerting. Anyways, Jeremy and I went visiting "there". And imagine my hysteria when Jeremy began picking up all kinds of things off the floor and eating them! Things I identified included: bits of pretzel, chunks of fig newton, and cat food. I was rolling on the floor in laughter. After I pulled myself together, I decided then and there that, from that point forward, I will simply throw Jeremy's dinner on the floor.

The Stats

Jeremy's twelve-month well-baby appointment produced the following numbers:

Two feet seven-and-one-quarter inches tall (in the ninety-fifth percentile for height).

Twenty-two pounds and four ounces heavy (in the forty-eighth percentile for weight).

FIVE injections which produced FIVE seconds of crying, and then Jeremy looked at me like, "Where are we going now, Mom?"

Holiday Card Photo Shoot

This weekend, the Webster-Hawkins family (affectionately known as the Webkins) endeavored to capture a suitable photo for a holiday card. Yes, I was dubious, seriously dubious, when Barb suggested that we take a picture of all five us (counting the two lab mutts). As if Jeremy -- he who turns stoic at the sight of a lens -- is easy to capture under normal circumstances. Add two silly dogs, and a camera on a tripod? Nuts, I thought, nuts is what Barb is! But I was a good sport.

With the weather mild and the late afternoon lighting just right, Barb and I did our best to manage the movements and moods of our lovely kid and critters. We definitely had some laughs and some bloopers. Here are a couple outtakes.





We also snapped a "keeper," which will debut via snail mail. If you want to be added to our holiday list, send me your address!