A baby’s capacity to learn will always amaze me.
They seem to grasp a new behaviour quite suddenly, and then ace it.
A few weeks ago, Séimí figured out how to take the soother out of his mouth. He grabs it now, waves it about like he’s the conductor of the philharmonic, and then decides it’s time for a chew. Rarely does he seem too keen on lobbing it back in for a suck, but I’d hazard a guess he’d manage that too, if he tried.
Likewise, he’ll have the core strength of an Olympic gymnast if he keeps at the sit-ups he’s attempting lately. He’s not able to sit up by himself yet, but he has the process from back to bum mapped out in his head. He knows that he needs to lift himself to get there, and tries in vain to sit straight up from the flat of his back. (He’s not quite clever enough yet to realise that most adults can’t even do that).
And then come the eating ‘habits’. He’s been watching us, I’m convinced.
I think I may have waited a little bit too long before giving the little man a taste of solid, or rather not-too-solid, food. I mentioned last week that his sporadic sleeping pattern over the past month or so might have been induced by hunger. I don’t think I was too far off the mark.
Last night, I fed Séimí solids for the first time. I puréed some carrots and divided the orange gloop out into my newly acquired Babypotz, ready for freezing. I honestly thought I’d be quitting half way through the task. I’d read about weaning, and how difficult it can be for babies to grasp the tricky task of swallowing. Séimí spits out calpol, (a heartbreaking practice when it’s at 4am), so I assumed he’d turn his nose up at this peculiar substance I was now aiming at his mouth.
I shouldn’t have doubted my champion. Far from shy away from me, he reached out with both hands when he saw the spoon, and guided said spoon into a mouth that was open and primed for consumption. A spoon. He’d never even seen a spoon before. He certainly hadn’t seen puréed carrots on a spoon, but he knew it was for him, and he knew exactly what had to be done. I’ve never seen anything like it.
He didn’t quite finish a 5oz tub of carrots but he wasn’t far off. He savoured every bite, and was sure to let me know when he was ready for the next spoonful. And just like that, he was done. He rubbed his mouth with both fists, and then gestured towards the 7 oz bottle of formula, which he proceeded to drain.
We don’t give babies enough credit. They are watching our every move, filing away information and behavioural patterns in their tiny little brains, only to spring it on their naive and gullible parents when we least expect it. They know how to create the shock factor, and boy do they know how to milk it, throwing in a cheeky smile or an animated giggle for effect.
I only wish I had half of Séimí’s cunning. Respect little man, respect.
