Baby-Led Weaning

I had always assumed that my baby's foray into solids would involve a food processor, frozen cubes of pureed sweet potatoes prepared in ice cube trays and a baby perched in a high chair with someone (most likely poor me) imitating the sound of an airplane and trying to coax another spoonful into his mouth. Isn't this just how it's done? Then a new friend from my moms group lent me the book Baby-Led Weaning and I had the biggest "aha moment" of my relatively short parenting career. The premise? Let your baby self-feed. No purees, just foods in their original form, cut into manageable pieces for the baby to eat him or herself. It's how the rest of the world feeds their babies. And probably how we did in this country before the invention of baby food mills and marketing by baby food companies.

The premise of baby-led weaning (BLW) just seemed so easy and that was a relief. Other moms were turning giddy pouring through baby food cookbooks and organizing babyfood-making parties and I just couldn't get excited about the work. And this is coming from someone who likes to cook. But the truth is, I often feel parenting is overwhelming because it's never-ending work and like I'm barely keeping my household afloat. Where was I going to find time for all of this? Despite how much I resented breastfeeding at first, I've grown to appreciate the simplicity of not having to decide what my kid is going to eat, shop for it and prepare it. While not as simple as breastfeeding, BLW appeared just a few notches up in level of involvement, and a natural progression in easing both baby - and parents - into solids.

Although I was hooked on BLW based on the idea it would make my life easier, I believed in its principles, namely that it's developmentally appropriate. When infants are breast- or bottle-fed, they decide how much they want to eat - they refuse to suck or even turn their heads away when they've had enough. Toddlers decide how much to eat, too, because they're feeding themselves. With baby-led weaning, you're not interrupting the natural progression of self-feeding. As a parent, you provide the what, when and where and the baby or child decides how much.

Developmentally, babies learn about the world using all their senses and by playing. They touch, shake, throw, grasp anything they can get their hands on, oh, and then put it all in their mouths. Hence the saying, "What goes in the mouth, goes in the brain." So to learn about food, they need to touch it. They learn about its size, texture, temperature, consistency and cause and effect, and they develop the motor skills to handle food. They learn that oatmeal is kind of slimy, but also sticky, that fruit is cold and juicy and that toast has a rough texture, but that like other foods, it dissolves into a manageable mush with the addition of saliva and some food. They learn that they need to grasp a slice of pear just the right way or it'll shoot out of their hands. They need to develop the coordination to put different sizes and consistencies of food in their mouths. Mystery mush, as I've come to call purees, is just one-dimensional learning.

Besides BLW being developmentally appropriate for him at this stage in Oliver's life, I'm also a believer in the claims that it will positively affect his relationship with food for life. Because babies are deciding how much to eat, it teaches them to eat to satisfy hunger and not to overeat. It supposedly lessens the chance of becoming a picky-eater by exposing them to different kinds of foods, and to the foods the adults around them are eating. A picky-eater myself straight into adulthood, I'm very interested in encouraging a healthy interest in food and exploration. And as one who has proclaimed that she will not be cooking separate meals for a picky child and the rest of the family, I'm taking an opportunity I can to avoid creating a picky eater.

After reading Baby-Led Weaning in its entirety and awwing over the pictures of adorable babies happily covered in their lunches, Chris and I patiently waited until Oliver turned six months old to start on his adventure with solids, where it seemed, the sky was the limit. We really were excited to finally start giving him something more interesting to eat. I think most parents get excited about starting solids, because it's something different. We're not the ones consuming breastmilk or formula day in and day out, but we can't help but think it's gotta get old for them. Sweet potatoes, green beans, carrots - as unexciting as they may be, these are foods we can identify with. Plus, I'd been listening to my friend who raves about the variety of foods her son has tried and his adventurousness with food.

Despite our eagerness, the solid food stage in Oliver's life got off to a rough start. I knew that with any stage in a baby's life, just because a baby can start doing something at a certain age or may start doing something by a certain point, doesn't mean he or she is ready, and I still naively believed that on the night of Oliver's six-month birthday, we'd place him in his new booster seat, present him with food and he'd happily devour it.

The first two or three days Oliver seemed almost scared of his food. He'd reach for a piece of food and then pull his hand away as if the food was too hot. I tried giving him foods with different textures to see if there was something he'd be interested in. Eventually he did start handling more food and even put much of it in his mouth. But just as soon as I was seeing progress, Oliver began to cry every time I placed him in his booster seat, and needless to say, family meal time wasn't enjoyable for mom or son.

After one particular meal with a lot of crying on Oliver's part, frustration on my part, and a lot of wasted food after I decided to call an end to the meal just minutes after it started, I immediately e-mailed a friend, who had become kind of like my BLW mentor. She's a family practice doctor, so I respect her opinion, and her son is two months older, so she's not that much farther along in the solid foods adventure. I felt like I was locked in a battle over food when one of the attractions to BLW was that there are no battles, because there's theoretically nothing to battle over. She provided the pep talk I needed, but also the reminder to revise my expectations, slow down and let Oliver set the pace. I had gotten myself caught up in what he should be eating, what he should be capable of doing and how he compared with babies who were being spoon-fed purees. I went back to exclusively breast-feeding for the next two days and when I tried again with the solids, and taking a few of my friend's suggestions, I changed my approach. I only fed Oliver solids when he was in a really good mood, which, since we were in the middle of some challenges over naps, meant we didn't even bother with solids some days. And I only gave him little bits of food at a time so that we both weren't frustrated - Oliver with the overwhelming selection and I with the waste of food. I also reevaluated my unrealistic understanding of how much Oliver should be eating.

The mini tantrums stopped almost immediately and by the next week, he wasn't just playing with his food and swirling it around in his mouth, but he was actually consuming sizable quantities. Just that little bit of improvement was a confidence boost for me as a mom to know that Oliver was indeed going to learn how to eat.

After trying baby-led weaning, I'm confident we made the right decision for Oliver and I can't imagine spoon-feeding him now. It frankly seems unnatural. Babies can't communicate effectively that they're full or not in the mood for a particular food, but this isn't an issue for Chris and me since we've given Oliver complete control. I grow weary of the mess, but I discovered when I babysat a friend's daughter that spoon-feeding isn't mess-free either. Extra cleaning aside, I feel like we've freed ourselves from all the challenges other parents of babies Oliver's age are experiencing with spoon-feeding. We don't have Oliver grabbing for the spoon we're trying to feed him with because we just give him the spoon to play with along with his food. He's not clamping his mouth shut at the sight of the spoon dipping into the jar of pureed green beans because the green beans are on his tray for him to eat, or not to eat. We don't have to worry about stages of purees or whether he'll be eating finger foods by his first birthday, because he's already eating finger foods.

Despite how passionate I feel about BLW, it wasn't always easy figuring out what worked best. When few people around you are doing something, you don't have many real examples to go with and end up figuring things out by trial and error. Thus I had to include the following tips to share with others who may be considering BLW.

- The authors of Baby-Led Weaning warn you it will be messy and they were not exaggerating. Oliver has mashed bananas through his fingers, smeared hummus and soft cheese in his hair while waving sticks of toast in the air, dropped food on the floor or between his body and the booster seat, wiped his face and rubbed his eyes with food-covered hands, thrown up on his tray (just that gag reflex proving it's working) and smacked his hands in it, and while maneuvering food around his tray, usually gets his arms covered past his elbows in a mishmash of food. The book provides several tips on how to handle the mess. Pick your method and use it. Since we have hardwood floors, we wait until Oliver is finished eating and then mop up the floor around his chair. I put on an apron and then wipe down his hands and face and then take him over to the sink and wash his hands and arms with warm water and no soap to keep from drying his skin out.

- Six-month-old babies don't know the difference between food and toys or that food can be swallowed and will satisfy their hunger. The first couple of months are about discovery and experimentation and they don't need the nutrients from solid food. While we sit down to eat because we're hungry, for babies it should be the opposite. They should only be given solids when they're NOT hungry, or tired. Oliver was often extremely fussy when I put him in his booster seat to eat, which I interpreted as meaning that he didn't like eating, and it took me a couple of weeks to realize that he was tired. So I would only sit him down to eat when he was well-rested, fed and ready to play, even if that time didn't coincide with family meal time.

- Take the pressure off. You want to foster a positive association with food and meal times, so offer your baby food and then back off. You don't need to cajole her to eat or take one more bite. If she eats nothing, there's no harm. She doesn't need the calories or nutrients from solid food yet.

- Don't stare. This is difficult for me to do, because it's just too much fun to watch him eat and I'm curious what he's going to try next. But some babies get too self-conscious if they have a table full of people staring at them.

- Start composting. I was alarmed at how much food is wasted when babies are learning to eat solids. Oliver will drop whole pieces of food he hasn't even tried putting in his mouth on the floor. He hasn't developed the dexterity to work with smaller pieces of food, so he'll grab a stick of food with his first, chew on the piece poking out of his fist and then discard the rest. Then there's the food he just plays with, but doesn't really try to eat. So any food I place on his tray will not be salvageable.

- Keep it simple. I had read a section in the book about how you should offer your baby three to five kinds of food at a meal, because the point of BLW is to expose your baby to a variety of foods. Oliver often seemed uninterested or even disgusted by everything on his tray and I was growing frustrated. A friend suggested that he may be overwhelmed by the pile of food and to instead scale back and offer just one or two pieces of food at a time. Not only does he seem more relaxed now, but when I decide that he's finished eating, anything that I haven't put on this tray, I can wrap up and save for the next meal.

- Skip elaborate cooking until your baby is consuming more than what she's dropping on the floor. Your baby doesn't appreciate how much time and energy you put into preparing a gourmet meal. The first six weeks, Oliver only ate about one meal of solids a day, some days none and they weren't at regular mealtimes. So he got leftovers from our meals, or whatever I had on hand that I could prepare easily when the opportunity to have him sit down and eat presented itself. My friend's baby is ten months old and has just transitioned to eating three meals a day at the same time his parents eat, so only now is she inspired to prepare something for the family for dinner based on the baby's tastes.

- Be patient. It will take months for your baby to develop the skills, and maybe even the interest, in eating solids. Just like we realized that you can't compare the percentiles of breastfed and formula-fed babies, it's unrealistic to compare the "progress" of baby-led and spoon-fed babies.

- It's not all or nothing. If you're getting frustrated by your baby's lack of interest in food or you can't help but wonder if she really does need more nutrition from solid food, you can try purees. This isn't like breastfeeding where everyone tries to scare you away from giving your baby a bottle of expressed milk with horror stories about "nipple confusion." There's no such thing as "spoon confusion." You can start with purees, switch to finger food, switch back to purees, or do a combination of both from the beginning.

- It's true, babies don't need teeth to chew. The authors reassure readers that baby don't need teeth to chew food because they can gnaw and mash food quite well with their gums, but I couldn't fathom how this could be true. Lack of teeth doesn't make for the most efficient break down of food, but I've been surprised (and relieved) by how comfortable Oliver has gotten chewing food, despite the fact that he has no teeth at eight months old and shows no signs of teething.

- BLW requires trust on many levels. Trust that your kid really won't choke. Trust that he will figure it out on his own. Trust that he really doesn't need the nutrients from solid food quite yet. Trust that playing with food is developmentally appropriate. Trust that you're doing the right thing despite skeptics and naysayers.

- Have your talking points ready. We haven't gotten any negative reaction to BLW, but I've had friends say one reason they're so apprehensive about trying BLW is the fear about backlash from their extended families. Everyone's got an opinion about babies and parenting and some friends just don't have the energy to do something interpreted as non-mainstream. So have a couple main points rehearsed about what BLW is, why you're doing it, why it's safe, repeat them if asked and move the conversation on.

So I saved the question I know every reader is wondering purposefully until the very end. Won't he choke?!?! The authors devote an entire section to this subject and their explanation was fascinating. Babies actually learn to chew first and then swallow, so anything that falls towards the back of their mouth won't automatically be swallowed. Saliva, along with chewing, also helps break down food to a puree form. The gag reflex on babies up to about eight or nine months old is also farther forward on the tongue, and the reflex is thus triggered sooner in a baby. All combined, the body's built-in safety mechanisms work together to reduce the risk of choking.

While it's not pleasant to watch your baby gag, (and there is a difference between gagging and choking) it signals that the reflex is working just as should and that he's learning how far back he can put his food or that he has to chew more. Oliver gagged more frequently in the beginning, and even threw up, but just like the authors said, it didn't bother him. As soon as the episode passed, he resumed eating.

Eventually your baby will have to learn to chew food not already in a puree form. Oliver's learning at a point when I believe it's actually safer, because of the location of the gag reflex in younger babies. Since he's the one putting the food in his mouth, he has control over how much goes in and how far back.

We follow the precautions advised in the book. Oliver sits upright and Chris or I sit with him while he eats. Afterward, we check his mouth to make sure he hasn't left anything in his mouth and I go as far to make sure I nurse him to wash down anything we could have missed.

After just two months, Oliver still makes a huge mess when he eats, but we've seen enough of an improvement that Chris wondered whether or not we'll end up with those adorable pictures of the birthday kid with cake smeared in his face on Oliver's first birthday. We shall see.

Urban Farming

Now that we have a home with a yard, albeit a standard 40x130 lot dominated by a house with an addition and deck on the back and an over-sized garage, we're skipping the CSA this year and are trying our luck at urban farming. Well, just with a focus on plants and sans the chickens and goats. The former owners left behind two raised garden beds and two planter boxes, so with most of the hard work of the garden prep done for us, we'd have felt really lazy if we didn't at least try to plant something.

So there we were on Mother's Day, a day of blue skies and pleasant temperatures, a respite from an unseasonably cold and dismal May, our happy, little family turning the soil in our first gardening venture. Oliver sat on a blanket in the grass happily gumming the garden hose and watched his parents debate an activity completely outside their standard repertoire. Chris peppered me with questions I couldn't answer, like how wide the rows should be or how close together we should place the seedlings. I had checked out numerous books on gardening from the library with titles like Garden Primer, Edible Gardening for the Midwest, Container Gardening for the Midwest, Small-Plot, High-Yield Gardening and so on - practically the whole gardening section - and then found little time to do more than page through them. I decided it would be less stressful to let the books decorate our coffee table and instead just throw down some seed and see what happens. Chris, who strove for perfection in planning and executing the gardens, had claimed the bed on the side of the house as "his garden," and spent the weeks before the last frost planning and building the perfect bunny-proof cedar fence for his small plot. With the perimeter of his garden looking that good, he wanted a planting strategy with proven results and didn't like my laissez faire approach.

Our plantings include the usual tomatoes and zucchini, as well as peanuts and one lone pumpkin plant. I purchased it with visions of carving pumpkins with my son (as if a then 13-month-old is going to be actually doing any carving). Now I'd wished I'd bought more, even at the risk of over-running my garden with what will turn into huge plants, since I'm afraid my one plant could die on me. Chris assured me that come fall, there'll be no shortage of jack-o-lantern-worthy pumpkins I could just buy.

If we experience a complete crop failure, we won't be without other options for locally-grown produce. The revered St. Paul farmer's market is within biking distance and the metro area's most urban "farmer" is utilizing otherwise unused land right in our own neighborhood. Or I can try looking longingly over the fence at my neighbor's well-tended garden bed and hope they take pity on us and share some of their crop.

When I told my grandmother that we'd started on our first garden and how I had no idea how successful we'd be, she hoped Chris and I wouldn't be repeating family history. My grandparents started their family in the rowhouses of Northeast Philadelphia, which sprouted following World War II and stretch block after block for miles. The tuck-under garage on the backside of the house left no yard, so when they moved with my dad and uncle to the suburbs in the late 1950s, my grandfather had big plans for vegetable gardening on his 3/4-acre lot. According to my grandmother, he liked golfing more than tending to his garden and the only vegetables to be grown in any following year on Annasmead Road were my grandmother's tomatoes.