I had friends with toddlers over the other day, and the visit happened to coincide with Ben's usual lunchtime, so I hauled his be-boostered chair from the kitchen into the living room and proceeded with his parade of solids: dreary-ohs (generic organic oat circles), small strips of whole wheat bread, spoon-fed full-fat cottage cheese, quick-microwaved green peas, and spoon-fed stewed-fruit mush (usually apple, pear, and blueberry). For Ben, this is kind of a light lunch. Generally I'd throw another veg in there, like greenie beanies or little cubes of sweet potato or broccoli florets. And maybe a cracker. And some yoghurt.
Anyway, the moms were impressed with the quantity and variety of his lunch foods, and his ability to get so much of it into his mouth himself. And because eating, like sleeping, is one of those parenting minefields, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for managing it so well and creating out of whole cloth this wonderful, enthusiastic eater.
Yeah, except if I took credit for how he eats, I'd have to take credit for how he sleeps. No, thanks.