When you have a baby anyone and everyone will want to give you advice. Actually scrap that. The minute you are pregnant before you’ve even popped the little bundle of joy out the pain in the arse lovely differing of opinion’s will begin. Even from people without kids.
Don’t get me wrong, I actually loved listening to other people’s experiences and what worked for them and what didn’t. (Except for the oversharing checkout chick who told me all about her emergency c-section when I was 8 months pregnant.) And thankfully most people that shared their stories with me, did just that; shared THEIR story and didn’t TELL me what I should or shouldn’t do with my baby. Operative word there, MY baby.
However, on more than one occasion I received different advice, medical advice in fact, on what I should do. And when people say just do what’s best for you, well, well that kinda makes it even more difficult. Because as a first time Mum I kinda didn’t know what I was doing. Hell, I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time! But Sophie and I plod along and we get through any problems, and seem to be figuring it all out along the way.
So a few weeks ago we started solids. I followed THE book we had been using. (Save our Sleep for those that are interested.) Because as a first time Mum I don’t mind admitting that I didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to eat first, or how much, and how often. I thought we were going along quite nicely. The first taste of rice cereal wasn’t a big hit. But seriously, have you tasted that stuff. Mushy cardboard was never going to be a tantalising taste for her little tastebuds. But throw in some pear or apple and her little mouth was opened so wide, the luna park smiley dude would be proud.
So then on Monday we went to Sophie’s 6 month check up with the Community Nurse. We talked solids and I said how she’s eating Pear, Apple, Carrot and Pumpkin and we were going to introduce potato and zuchinni this week. You can imagine my shock when the nurse said I should now be giving her meat, chicken, mince, you know like spag bowl, pasta was ok, and hey why not chuck in a little bit of garlic for extra flavour. Oh, and hold the food processor. Yep, no more pureeing. Just mash it with a fork.
Seriously. Hold. The. Phone. And shut the front door.
Beef. Chicken. GARLIC. I wanted to say to the nurse, Um WTF, but of course I didn’t. Instead I said oh ok. Then went home and madly flicked through THE book and whinged about not knowing what to do to my MIL and Mum. Then I thought back to the comment, just do what’s right for you. So I decided we’d try some lumpy fruit. I guess Soph can’t drink her food forever. Well not again until she’s about 90yrs old anyway. However the lumpy bits didn’t go down so well. Figuratively and literally. She screwed her nose up, her little eyes watered and then she gagged. I, clearly the Mother of the Year, pissed myself laughing. Along with my just as sympathetic mum. Poor Soph. Bless her little cotton socks. Just when she thinks life’s plodding along well we go and change the bloody rules on her. So I pureed the remainder of the lumpy food.
I wasn’t going to speed things up, but then I worried that she wasn’t getting all the nutrients she was meant to be getting. And iron. The nurse said lots of things about iron and meat. Talk about a daily dose of mother’s guilt. So I made up a big chicken and vegie thing in the slow cooker and have the meat on hand ready to go too. So I guess we’ll try bits and pieces slowly. I might step it up a little quicker than THE book, so we’ll see how we go.
And that’s because I decided that that’s what works for us. Still have no bloody idea what I’m doing though!
How did/do you handle different advice?