Solids = Fail

Well we gave it the old college try. The Saturday after Greyden's doctor told us it was time to start solids, we went out to "The Wawl-Mart" as the Texans say and stocked up on our supplies. Armed with new bowls, spoons, rice cereal, and a very, very washable vinyl tablecloth, we decided that we were as ready as we'd ever be. 

 Step 1: Inventory supplies. Decide that we're way too lazy to spread out the tablecloth. Put Junior in his Bumbo seat on the counter. The counter is washable, no?

Step 2: Begin first attempt at making rice cereal by following directions on box. Put 1 tablespoon rice cereal into the bowl. Add 3-4 tablespoons of breastmilk. Watch as rice cereal completely dissolves into the milk and disappears.

 Step 3: Stir rice soup cereal in hopes of making the cereal magically reappear. Stare blankly at the bowl and wonder how in the hell we messed that up.

 Step 4: Deviate from directions on box. Add another tablespoon of rice cereal in an attempt to make the contents of bowl look more like "cereal" and less like "milk." Again, watch rice cereal instantly disappear.

Step 5: Remove a now bored and pissed off Junior from Bumbo seat on counter and pass him to Daddy while Mommy attempts to perform miracles.

Step 6: Add another tablespoon of rice cereal to the bowl. Watch rice cereal disappear. Begin to add another tablespoon, stop and evaluate the insanity of doing the same thing yet again while expecting different results, say "screw it" and dump half the box into the bowl.

Step 7: Succumb to defeat and admit that the rice cereal won and Junior will ultimately be attempting to drink milk from a spoon.

Step 8: Place Junior back into Bumbo seat on counter.

Step 9: Attempt to balance milk on the end of the smallest and shallowest spoon on earth. Slowly move it toward Junior's mouth, proceed to dump it down the front of him.

Step 10: Refill spoon, again move it toward Junior's mouth, then dump it down the side of his face when he turns his head at the last second.

Step 11: Regret not using the tablecloth. 

Step 12: Realize that next time we're going to have to somehow make the tablecloth wearable for all parties involved.

Step 13: Refill spoon, sigh loudly when Junior clamps his lips closed and refuses to accept the spoon, and, for the second time, admit defeat.

Step 14: Remove a now seriously pissed off Junior from his Bumbo seat and give him a boob.

This past weekend we thought that giving him a spoon to play with might help him get used to it, since everything he touches goes into his mouth anyway. This picture could actually be a decent indicator of some underlying problems:

Wrong end, Tater.

He actually appeared to be catching on for a second, but I think it was just because the right end happened to be facing him at the right time. Then he quickly lost interest:

 

It's funny, he wanted nothing to do with solids when they were in the form of rice soup, but hand the kid a Girl Scout cookie and you'd better watch your fingers.

So we tried. I was told that I'll know if my baby isn't ready for solids yet by following his cues. I'm assuming that clamping your lips tightly shut and glaring like someone just stole your pacifier are just a couple of those cues. I'm sad to say that I think my role as the local Dairy Queen will be continuing for at least a few more weeks. Unless a Girl Scout with a serious quota to meet knocks on our door anytime soon.