Poj likes pancakes and other lessons from a six-month check up

Poj (aka Ronan, Rojo, Rojey-Pojey, The Baby Man) had his six-month check-up last week.  I think I need therapy to cope.

So, it went like this.  I told Dr. G that Poj isn't all that crazy about baby food and that every feeding episode is like a bad war movie - hand-to-hand combat over the spoon, other kids getting hit by food shrapnel - you get the picture.  Dr. G said that, based on what he sees, which includes four teeth, Poj could probably skip baby food and try feeding himself with finger food.  Dr. G said that Poj has enough hand-eye coordination to do it, which explains why he's grabbing the spoon so much.  He recommended that I give Poj a sippy cup and some mashed-up banana.

I wanted to punch him.

Then Dr. G watched him sit up and bounce away happily, and he said he'll probably be crawling soon because he really likes to move.  Exhibit A:

Again, I wanted to punch him.

I knew that Dr. G had one more strike until he was out, so to speak, so I fessed up.  I said, "Dr. G.  You gotta stop talking this way.  This is my last baby, and we are savoring every minute.  We will be skipping no stages, including disgusting baby food stages, and we will neither crawl nor walk early.  Am I clear?  AM I CLEAR?!?"  Without turning his back on me, Dr. G moved slowly to the door, half-smiled, and said he'd send in the nurse.

Despite my desperate need to delay any development on Roj's part and my ongoing desire to stuff him into his baby sling with him kicking and screaming for a little space, I did what I was told and gave Poj some pancakes.  Poj, it turns out, loves pancakes.  Loves them.  (As an aside, I really emphasize the "cake" part of pancake by adding some extra sugar and vanilla.  It's been a cold, cold winter so everyone could use a little more insulation.)  Dad also gave him some watermelon, which admittedly is a far more sensible choice.  And it, too, was a big hit.  Exhibit B:

So, tonite, I'm going to drown my sorrows in chocolate truffles and Prosecco left over from the holidays. Tomorrow, I'm going to see if the big kids will let me spoon feed them their oatmeal.

Momma T.