philabo-didda-BUMBO

Jones is finally starting to grow into some of his things.

I say "finally," because, for awhile there, I was thinking that registering for "must-haves," like a swing and a Bumbo seat, had been a complete waste of my time and somebody else's money. Lately, though, he's proven that he just needed a little time to get used to them both.

Here is a (very dark; I'm sorry.) video of him in his swing. He doesn't spend a whole lot of time in it - maybe 10 or 15 minutes a day - but when he does, he's getting better and better at reaching out and playing with the toys on the little lap bar, and, as always, he offers no shortage of his dolphin-like squeals. Either that, or my ears are even keener than I thought, and I'm starting to pick up the silent pings of our neighbor's dogs.

 

"philabo-didda-Bumbo;"
Jones knows ... Jive. His daily cereal
is served about 5:30 p.m.

The Bumbo is the other thing that he's really getting the hang of. I still don't leave him alone in it, even when it's on the floor - YOU try holding up a head that proportionately big for more than two minutes at a time! - but for quick stints (with me standing right beside him, Mom), he's golden.

One of the things that we use it the most for is feeding time. Spoon-training is coming along ... well, it's coming along. Jones doesn't love it at all, or maybe he just hates the taste of that nasty cereal mixed up with that nasty formula, and who can blame him? But I'm finally beginning to remember some tricks from my babysitting days that I think may help him turn the corner.

By "finally," of course, I mean "I remembered them last nite, as Jones was screaming, and, because he's working two jobs, Jeremy wasn't yet home to help out by holding him." Amazing what comes back to you in the heat of the battle.  Regardless, I believe it was Ann Bible who did this with her grandson Brad. Since he, now 20, is a CHAMPION of eating with utensils, I figured it'd worked for her.  Why not try it myself?

Here's how: I'd cram in a bite, and before Jones had time to cry about the foreign object invading his oral cavity, I'd cram in his paci. Every dental professional I know probably just cringed to read it, but by the end of the FiestaWare Fruit Bowl full of cereal, Jones was laughing instead of screaming at the sight of the purple and blue plastic spoon.

That's what I call a win-win! At this rate, we'll have him eating burgers by lake season, though, to be honest, I'd settle for just being able to add in a second bowl of cereal every day.