Baby's Feeding Brilliance

What a concept! What an idea! Brilliance at its best. As 'Edward', my then 10 month-old grandson, waits to eat, mom is preparing his food: egg yolk. He has been placing his fingers into his mouth so often he has progressed to a new eating category called feeding himself. One day that life-altering step will determine the course of his health journey.

A modern feeding philosophy has arrived. If baby can sit, without assistance, while longing for the foods you are eating, - his tongue moving back and forth, in synchronized fashion - baby might be ready for the next step: feeding himself. And so it began. Egg yolk became Edward's first food, along with applesauce, easily digestible and full of vitamins and minerals. But as time passed, small amounts of finely 'processed' meat, with squash, were added, to his delight. The food, placed on his clean high chair tray, made practice an easy and fun exercise for him and mom, too. It was akin to delicious finger 'painting' as his hands moved slowly into his food. 

 

Mom uses the spoon to expedite the process of eating, for him, thus shortening his meal time sessions. Play time beckons, too! Being nursed, still, gives Edward a sense of well being, begun within minutes of him being born. He is nearing the one year anniversary of his birth and will be enrolled, later this year, in a music program for 18 months olds. In the months to come, he will be fed more and more by spoon. What an invention he thinks. Apple sauce and other pureed foods are slowly gaining momentum as they are introduced. He is training his taste buds to savour and appreciate the real foods mom gives him. Water is included, too.

Lucy, my daughter and Momsey editor, is guiding her baby towards health, in the choices she makes for him, now, and in the experience he has of feeding himself. The foods sustains him as he slowly becomes aware of flavour, taste, texture and the role of food in his life. Food is medicine, after all! (So is music) ... With a newly installed digestive system, my one year old grandson is beginning to understand the world of food, thanks to mom's persistence and personal enjoyment of all things, homemade. Sugar will not interfere. It is the enemy. No soda pop for him. The time will arrive when he will learn of its existence and other 'drinks', too, at parties, he will attend. Choices will be made. ... 

 

If sugar had been invented today it might be considered a poison, according to one pediatric specialist. Sugar is greatly reduced in the desserts I make as these sweet creations can muddle health, so easily.

Training her one-year-old son to be the author of his own health is Lucy's mission. Junk food and sugar will not monopolize his food journey. Their significance in her son's life now has no standing. Real food takes precedence for this smallest and most vulnerable member of the human race. He wins with every meal. 

 

Today, there is cooked millet mixed with squash. Sometimes it is mashed peas and brown rice, another newly established combo. He savours every morsel as it enters his tiny happy mouth. Mom keeps a detailed chart recording Edward's meals, alerting her to any possible allergic reactions he might experience.

Moms have the uncanny ability to influence their children's daily food preferences. She can be the arbiter of smart eating and good habits. Buying food is fraught with misgivings today as we wonder, is it NON-GMO or not. Organic is in the pantry. Lucy and Edward's dad buy from a local farmer. Any overabundance is cooked then frozen for later use. They choose wisely. We all must. Things like parsnips are cooked then frozen for that 'sneaky' look to foods, later. Mixed into mashed potatoes or rice, then put into soups as a thickener or combined with cauliflower all adds up to health and wellness. My grandson only knows what mom gives him. She definitely knows best. He is a meal time sensation, much like his food.

Edward is observant of those around him and the foods they eat. I want some of that, he seems to say. He loves his water, too. Let's be the first to influence our babies. 'Outside forces' will dominate, later. Let us stockpile, now, for future battles, with enjoyable foods for everyday feasts. A few missteps will occur but the more we fuss the more our children will rebel.

Experience is baby's first teacher. Mom guides that journey. She knows the best building blocks for baby were already put in place before he was born. Now, she wants him to experience the wonders of Mother Nature's bounty, first hand, within the loving, extended family structure. Fast food will have its turn, one day, for sure. But for now, mommy will imprint on his one-year-old plastic brain. 'Cause mommy knows best.

Momsey's Sixth Anniversary

March 12 marked the 6^th anniversary of The Momsey. How I lasted this long is a mystery but a young lady named 'Lucy', the love of our youngest of three, insisted that I write and write and write some more. There were few like me she remarked, often, over the years. People needed to hear from the Momsey, a name she called me upon our first meeting, New year's Eve. She was 18. Lucy is now a proud mom of my one year old grandson who has taken my heart hostage.

The lessons I've learned would never have occurred without my blog. (I was a student, too). I delved into areas of life affected by me, of interest to me and simply because of me. ... My research into the world of fermentation and bread made my family believers of sourdough and its impact on gut health. (It seems the long fermenting period of yeast dough tears up the gluten to the point where it is a shadow of its former self). A flavour bonus results. I have learned to trust my pets. They tell the truth, minute by minute. Deceit is not in their vocabulary or heart. They live in the moment. Planning for their future means naps, high energy play time, meal time integrity, high impact treats, cucumbers, apple slices, berries, fresh in season or frozen, if not. I have shared the secrets to my cooking and baking thoughts. There are none, just common sense approaches that enhance health in meaningful ways. We have the power over our health but it begins and ends in the kitchen. Wealth equals health. It is our duty not the doctor's or the pharmacy's.

I cook and bake using only 3% organic milk where necessary. It seems reasonable to think that a healthier dairy product is better, all around. I am more inclined to eat those homemade comfort foods of yore without trepidation, now. The pasta I buy is made in Italy where gluten insensitivities are rare. Why is that, I wonder? Is the food supply and the farmers there given more protection and treated with more respect? NON-GMO is not allowed in many European countries. But here and with our neighbours, next door, we are are held to a different compelling standard. Seems like we, the citizens, would be confused with labelling so best to keep us in the DARK. Am I sarcastic? Probably.

Many companies have chosen to inform their customer base that their product line is free of those 'modifications' or soon will be. I eat pasta without guilt now. The NON-GMO ones are here to stay in my kitchen. Women's bodies are more affected by the chemicals in our food so we must be more vigilant in what we put into them. We are the species that incubate the human race, one baby at a time. Our bodies matter. Wheat is grown differently and more 'quickly' today. So I turn to organic, made in Italy or NON GMO. It's my safe place. Homemade takes on new meaning. Even bakeries that espouse a healthy philosophy take shortcuts, I now know.

I am now a grandmother, times two. It is a special place where I have modernized my former child rearing practices to include everything I have learned since I became a mom to three boys, decades ago. The 'daughters' of my grandchildren are so committed to their newborns, duty bound in this modern age, looking toward the future with an eye on education, dietary health and safety while taking nothing for granted. Their children deserve that and more.

Restaurant are becoming a burgeoning disappointment. The menu says one thing; the presentation, another. The cute over-sized plates and food towers are a distraction. How do you mix a salad on a rectangular plate? Is dining out about hype? Seems so! Home cooking might become the newest rage. Freshly baked rolls please. I am paying enough for the sub or sandwich. I want fresh, not day old. Tastes better and we're entitled. Day old stuff should be a discount. Stop deceiving. I'll go elsewhere, if there is one.

Shopping at the Canadian chain, Bulk Barn, is opening up an oasis of newly discovered NON GMO or organic flours, grains, cooking/baking excitement for me. Corn meal and buckwheat kasha are my favourites, along side oatmeal, red river. Grains kept my first born alive, in utero, decades ago. Three pounds 2 ounce, at 27 weeks gestation, an incredible weight, I was told. Yet grains are bad. Sorry guys but maybe there are 'other' factors weighing in on your debate. I am not convinced.

Our girl, Sally, has 'returned'. Our 9 year old retriever's last year's surgeries (torn ligament and cancerous tumor), months of recovery and restoration of normalcy makes vacations so unimportant. She lived to give us another chapter in her saga. Nothing better than life. It is the best gift of all!

Mom 'Rule'

By the third 'delivery', it was obvious boys would 'rule' our hearts and lives. A massive mission was about to unfold. How would it begin? One day, at a time, please. Mom was there, maybe looking for a laugh, but always hoping to demonstrate a valuable life lesson to her children, as needed. 'Mob' rule was looming, on the forseable future. Would 'mom' rule be enough to stem the oncoming tide?

As our three boys grew, many decisions would be made, affecting their future lives and more. Raising healthy, informed, caring people, who engaged socially and decisively, became paramount. (We were poor enablers). The day would arrive, very soon, when mom and dad would not be there. Deciding for our boys made them weaker, less resilient, less inclined to know which path to choose, much later, when it mattered the most. ... One was a leader, a common sense boy who 'ran' his childhood 'kingdom' quickly and reacted to his surroundings, immediately. His watchful eye would gather the others when danger seemed near. The middle boy was meticulous, always trying to be helpful while the youngest seemed to follow both absorbing everything he saw and they did. The older ones doted on their youngest brother like the foal he seemed to be. They were a keen bunch, our sons. But mom was the ruler of it all. She had to be. The 'turbulent' teen years were advancing. Preparation was key, as the outside world was lying in wait.

In 1979, the study of neonatology had just begun. The purchase of books was my ticket to learning how and why, in addition to relying upon the common sense thread I knew had. Physio and speech therapy ruled our lives, in those early years, before kindergarten, for our first born. There was a dearth of information on preemie care, then. (He was born 13 weeks early, with zero chance of survival, during a time when the internet and its 'affiliates' did not exist). His younger siblings became his personal therapists, always ready to guide and follow. I observed, then followed. I had much to learn, too.

Matters of the heart were critically important, too, in raising young boys to be caring young men. .... Kindness, respect, and empathy took center stage. These human qualities could not be ignored or learned later. Their best efforts were constant reminders of the world of learning. They understood. Financial and academic acuity would happen, cemented in the daily course of living. Life was always about learning and the making of mistakes. Things like credit ratings and reputations would begin to take shape. Adult independence was a burgeoning concept in those early years. Being in control surpassed being controlled.They knew. The mass education of our boys had begun. 

Understanding the consequences of their choices was a daily reminder of the 'cost' of being human. Money needed to be saved not spent. The future was coming. Real dollars would be needed. Our 'staff' of four-legged animals reminded us of the sometimes financial burden and daily effort required for their care and feeding, too. They instilled empathy, too. These four-legged delights were the barometers of living in the moment. Retelling their stories made our lives meaningful and relevant. They were daily reminders of another form of love bonding us altogether. They were doting family members. Outside forces made this juggling act complicated, at times. But we all had a safe place to call home. We were fortunate.

Resource management was the name of life's game. There was no curfew as it served to complicate lives. An open door 'hotel' policy was not an option, either. Some days ended early; other times, later, than normal. There was much to learn and discover before leaving home. But being here with us provided our boys with 'seasoned help', nearby. 

 

Mom was present, that all knowing evil presence that would not go away! Our lives mattered, too. ... Our sons knew mom's type. She was tricky, perhaps an untapped talent, ready to deal, in any kind of 'weather', any time. The rules of human behaviour were quite simple. Be nice, helpful and kind. The outside world was not always a nice place. Consequences could be lurking. Dad was involved but he had enough to do, away on business, 3-5 days a week. They understood. Mom was far more formidable, anyway, because she knew how hard life could be, if we took it for granted.

A horrific event took place at a high school in Florida. We were sickened. The signs were there, all along, in minute amounts, then looming larger, as did the boy. Help is never complicated. We stop and listen then act. They is no substitute for the real thing called face-to-face communication. The devices we hold dear can help or hinder, depends. They are formidable teaching tools, of course, bringing us inside the mind, where all thoughts are made then 'processed'. Paying attention to one another is the greatest human gift. That all important gift.

Moms are not the only parent who matter. Dads are tops, too, critical for little boys and little girls in today's stringent societal pull. Do dads matter more? Perhaps, they do! But for the moment, I am here, a full life watching over 3 burgeoning lives each and ever day.