Honest Motherhood: The Joy of Mealtimes

Each time I speak to another Mother now about weaning/mealtimes in general with a baby, we each have the same reaction. Just a look of exasperation then a slow shake of the head. 
“It’s just it’s..THREE TIMES A DAY…”

I couldn’t wait to wean. All the new food, all the wholesome colourful meals. Getting Maia’s old high chair out and sitting Leo in it for the first time. Being together around a table. 
Now the novelty has worn off and I wonder why I was quite so excited to have to clean up my son’s gloopy mess three, sometimes four times a day. I couldn’t give a s*** about eating at that table.

It was fun at first, watching him try all the new tastes and textures. Seeing him pick up a piece of cucumber and bring it to his mouth all by himself. Observing as he quickly learned how to grasp his beaker and sip from it. All the little things. 
We’d take photos as he got messier and messier and laugh as he smeared mashed potato into his hair. “The messier the better! He’s loving it!!”. 

I’ll never forget when he tried peach for the first time. He just sat on Joel’s lap as they took it in turns, each taking a bite from the peach, almost in rhythm. It was beautiful.

But now I am tired. 
And there is just SO MUCH MESS. 
Some days, particularly when I’m on my own and vulnerable, I just need him to eat. 

No throwing of food. 
No grabbing of plastic spoons or bowls and bashing them onto the floor.
No bashing. 
Just a nice easy breakfast.

Some days I don’t feel like picking mushy banana pieces off the floor, or attempting to get strawberry stains out of another vest.

Some days we’ll leave the house and it’ll look like I didn’t clean his face, because there’s a stubborn bit of dried whatever stuck in his eyebrow. (If it’s REALLY bad (so most days) I’ll hose him down in the shower post-meal). 

I’ve never wiped down so many surfaces in my life. 
Motherhood is just feeling guilty, saying “well done” and wiping things.

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