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I can’t believing I’m feeding Nibbles’ bottled baby food. Seems hypocritical after all the fuss I made to breastfeed. I know it’s rare that babies gulp down bottled baby food. The fact that it’s completely organic, with no added salt or sugar, ought to make me feel good. Still, I feel like those are just excuses for my laziness.

One good reason to cook baby food at home is to select the best produce and preserve maximum nutritional value (Guilt fodder). It doesn’t necessarily work out cheaper, considering nobody else wants the pulp of organic veggies left over (too lazy to freeze).

However, I feel like the root of my disappointment lies elsewhere. I’d love for Nibbles to join in on our meals, especially when he stares longingly at our plates, drooling. I feel like such a selfish hog, but considering the spicy, greasy crap Big Byte and I gobble down everyday, I know it’s best Nibbles watched from a distance. And no, I’ve already given up alcohol, so switching to a baby-friendly diet can certainly wait or I’ll bring the house down.

The darker side to all this is the indian mommy reflex (I don’t think american cooking is as involved, so I’m leaving it out. Ok, fine, I’m a bigot). I want to cook for my child, and I want him to enjoy the food and place it on an altar – incomparable to any edible scrap on the planet. Lofty ideals? Sure. And I hate it. I hate the fact that I’ve become like those aunties I detested. “My son lost so much weight in college because he likes my food only”, they’d gush proudly, stuffing another desi ghee soaked parantha/dosa/burfi into the pathetic son’s face. Then there are those MILs that believe their sons lead lesser lives because the wives can’t cook for like they can…bechaare. Now I’m chanting the same bloody slogans. What’s worse is that I know I wouldn’t have hated these instincts so much if I had a daughter.

Maybe there’s a better explanation for all this. After being his sole source of nutrition for 9 months in utero + 6 months outside (sneaking in some formula on work days), I feel left out of the whole process. What process? His growth? There are several other ways to stimulate it, like playing, talking and laughing with him. My obsession is silly. My baby enjoys balanced meals everyday and I’m not dancing around with glee. I better get crackin’ on my letting-go skills. I’ll certainly need to summon them several times in the years to come.

 

 

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