A Poor Excuse

Forgive me followers for I have sinned; it’s been several months since my last confession – I mean post!

“What,” I hear you ask “has happened? Where have you been?”

Well, it all seemed to be going so well: my baby, fed, slept and pooed which left me with ample time for coffee mornings, writing my blog and, occasionally, whipping the hoover around.

Then it happened.

Almost overnight, my baby grew up into a big baby who needed three, three course meals a day (apparently) and then started moving. Where once I could place her on her little mat, safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t go anywhere whilst I ate my cake; now I have to have eyes in the back of my head and follow her around like a shadow in case she sticks her little fingers in the plug sockets! On the plus side, it has upped my exercise quotient, so I guess it’s not all bad.

But it’s the feeding that gets me. Now I know I had a few issues in the early days with breast feeding, mainly squirting it in the right direction but I had just about got it mastered when I discovered that it was about time to wean the little guzzler onto solid foods. Excellent I thought, how much easier life will be…

Well I’m obviously doing it all wrong, as preparing meals for my little Gordon Ramsey now takes up a large proportion of my day, and woe betide you if you serve her up something she doesn’t like.

You see, there is this pressure to prepare beautiful home cooked meals full of nutritious fresh fruits and vegetables so that you can keep up with the other Mums who have all read the Annabel Karmel baby books and have been busy cooking up gastronomic feasts for their little bundles of joy. I have visions of these domestic goddesses, replete in their 1950s housewife uniform and perfectly coiffed hair, serving up delicious, healthy meals to their families while my poor offspring is subjected to whatever baby jar is on special offer at the local supermarket.

To be honest, I’m sure there’s not all that much difference between a jar and what I cook anyway – except the time and the mess- but still I persevere. And so it’s started, I’m doing what I always swore I wouldn’t, I’m trying to keep up with the Joneses and racking a small mortgage on exotic foodstuffs in the process!

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