Tuesday 20 March 2012

BLW - that's Baby Led Weaning, not some kind of weird cricket acronym.

When I noticed Frankie sitting upright furiously munching on her coloured wooden stacking blocks, I realised it was probably time to give her some real food to play with. I'd heard about this Baby Led Weaning lark, and decided to do some sniffing around to suss out what it was all about.

Up until this point I've enjoyed watching Frankie demolish bowl after bowl of the mushy stuff. I've been living through my own private Blitzkreig, ensuring my handblender churned out the perfect sloppy consistency to spoonfeed to my daughter. But maybe there's another way... surely our Sisters in the Sudan don't have access to hand blenders when their bubbas start real food, so what do they do?

The BLW principles seem to be as follows:
1. When they are able to sit up by themselves, give them something soft that they can fit in their fists (because they don't have pincer grips yet)
2. Watch them lick, suck, munch, rip, and swallow the food in their own good time

What is so good about this style versus the standard sloppy stuff?

Well, they apparently learn to eat until their full (rather than eating until the tupperware bowl is empty). They learn that food is fun and interesting, rather than something that mummy thrusts upon her like those blasted nappy changes every few hours. They are more willing to experiment later on down the line with trying new and varied things because they see food as an enjoyable experience, not just a routine shovelling of grub into their mouths.

Now, Frankie LIKES her slurpee delights. She's got my appetite (poor kid) and hasn't refused a spoonful yet. But I am already noticing that she is starting to get bored and isn't really engaging in the food itself.

Queue my first experience giving her a "potato stick" (roast potato chip). Instead of simply eating it, then lazily waiting for the next portion to be handed to her on a plastic silver serving spoon, she took the stick into her hand and cautiously, curiously evaluated it. Deeming it fit for consumption, she whacked it forcefully against her cheek - her aim could use some improvement.

After a couple of misguided attempts, she finally hit target and the chip was in her mouth. She sucked it. She bit it. She ripped some of it with her two bottom teeth. She gagged on it. She spat some out. She let out a little pirate 'rrrrrrrrrrr' as she concentrated on polishing off her meal. by now, the potato was now all over her and she proceeded to lift little bits of "tayto" off her bib and launch them back into her mouth where they belonged. She had entertained herself and was thoroughly, delightfully, incredibly content.

The gagging had me worried I admit, but a devout follower of BLW and good friend of mine from Manchester told me to have faith in our babies' gag reflexes. In the same way that we're conditioned to look after ourselves after a huge night out with a good old fashioned spew, babies are programmed to hurl anything that is a potential choking hazard. So long as we keep sensible about what we give them - cheese strips, steamed brocolli florets, boiled carrot sticks etc - we should stay confident.

For those of us who are essentially lazy souls, this self-feeding has the added benefit of giving us a few more minutes to ourselves instead of pandering incessantly to our children. Well, that is until clean-up time begins and we survey the carnage of battered brocolli limbs and decimated breadstick crumbs scattered around the battlesite of the baby's highchair...

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