feeding claire

Well, it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted but it’s been a jam-packed few months. We decided it was time to make some life-altering changes and thought: what the hey, why not do them all at once? First, we’re expecting another member of Team Evans at the end of May. We’re jazzed about having another baby, especially since Claire is just awesome.

Second, we’ve moved to Seattle. What a change from Philadelphia! For me, being on the other side of the country feels like I’m upside down. Living in a West Coast city is much, much different than an East Coast city. I haven’t been here long enough for me to make true sense of my impressions of it so far: the people are nice; the climate is different – yes, it does rain here all of the time in the rainy season, which is when we moved here; and we had to buy a car(!).

Claire seems to have adjusted pretty well. We’ve been having some sleeping troubles (i.e. separation anxiety troubles) but other than that she’s been having a great time. Here she is at our new neighborhood park.

For some reason I love this expression. You can see the wheels moving behind those eyes. It’s at times like these that she looks most like Aaron.

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted here at feedingclaire but Claire is still getting a mouthful! A lot has changed in these past few months: Claire turned one, Claire is walking, and she’s really starting to become her own little person. (We’ve already had our first fight! It involved whether or not she would be wearing a bib – she, of course, is still winning that battle.)

This summer has been great fun. Check out Claire in the sprinklers at our awesome neighborhood park:

Claire is loving her the new freedom of feeding herself, which makes her feel very independent. I love it, too. Although, we are making gradual changes in what we eat since she wants to eat everything we do – let’s just say I like to make my chili HOT.

So things may take a new turn around here with what I post; I’m still working out a plan, which is why I haven’t really posted too much. But Claire and I (and Daddy, too!) shall return to the baby-blogosphere – mostly likely with some minor changes.

Oh, boy! Was this a party! I have never seen Claire gobble up anything like she gobbled up polenta. It was a sight. She had already eaten most of her dinner and I was making polenta to go with dinner for me and Aaron (BBQ chicken and asparagus – yes, she could have had that but we often dawdle when it comes to making dinner and Claire was a hungry bear!) and I decided to let her try it.

She’s only recently started using a spoon by herself and she loves that control. She really concentrates and gets into it. The picture above caught her in a rare moment of looking up from her food.

This was actually my first try at polenta. I’ve always been a little afraid of it the way I used to be afraid of risotto – I fear neither no more! Polenta is so easy as long as you’ve got a moment (actually many, many moments) to stir. It was a good thing Claire was already in her high chair because Aaron was manning the grill (another fear of mine). I used a recipe (from Bon Appetit) that was nice and creamy, which was perfect for Claire to eat. Easy to spoon or grab – and either way she was shoving it in her mouth.

Creamy Polenta
serves 6
Ingredients
2 cups whole milk
2 cups water
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt (Gasp! I used this before I gave it to Claire for taste. It’s not that much so I didn’t feel too badly about it.)
1 cup polenta (coarse cornmeal)*

Bring milk, water, and salt to boil in heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat. Gradually whisk in polenta. Reduce heat to low; simmer until smooth and thick, stirring almost constantly, about 18 minutes.

*I used regular cornmeal and it worked out just fine – just only cook it for about half the time.

Apparently, I’m not alone in Claire’s troubles with being big. Her whole life she has been a big baby. She currently weighs in at 22 lbs 6 oz, is 2′5″ tall, and her head is just over 18″ (almost as big as mine). At her 6 month visit, the pediatrician recommended that we come back in 3 weeks to ‘monitor’ the growth of her head. So we did. But before I took her, I measured my husband’s current (and quite large – sorry, Aaron) head to somehow prove that her big head is familial rather than abnormal – but at this rate, they’re both abnormal. Needless to say, when Claire’s head was measured it had grown, as babies’ heads tend to do. When I told the dr the measurements of Aaron’s head, she went to go look them up. She was gone for quite some time and came back and (sorry again, Aaron) but she laughed and said his head was still off the charts. Boy, did I feel better! His head may be large but it’s proportionate to his body. That is exactly how I feel about Claire: she may have a big head, but she’s got a big everything else too. She’s developmentally fine. No delays: she says “mama” when I ask ‘Who am I?’; waves hello and goodbye and goodnight; the picture above was taken when Aaron said ‘Smile’; she’s been crawling for over a month; she is almost standing on her own; walks while holding on to things. I wasn’t worried anymore.

But I guess I’m supposed to be. She went to her 9 month check up a little late (at exactly 10 months). They check her stats (see above) and the first thing the dr says to me when I first see her – to be fair, this was a different dr; my usual dr is on maternity leave so this would be Claire’s third dr – is about getting an MRI for my big-headed baby. WHOA! I say. Slow down. Fortunately, I brought Aaron along to prove his big-headedness. Take a look at her father, I said. She didn’t care about his head and proceeded to discuss the MRI just to ‘dot the i’s and cross the t’s’. But who’s i’s and t’s is she talking about. If there were delays, developmental short-comings, or if she looked like an orange on a toothpick, then I would be open. But an MRI?!? She would have to be sedated – a 10 month old baby sedated to dot i’s and cross t’s. I’m just not so sure. She proceeded further to tell me that CHOP is one of the best hospitals in the country, that she would be in good hands, etc., etc….I’m aware of how great CHOP is but it’s my daughter that you’d be drugging. I was told I could wait to have her checked again at 12 months but if it still was growing at the same rate they would ‘make’ me get the MRI. ‘Make’ is a strong word and I wasn’t pleased with her forcefulness without any cause for concern other than the measurements.

So I’ve decided to wait. I don’t think the stress is necessary. I’m working on getting a second opinion and – to my great fortune – my MIL has Aaron’s medical records from when he was a baby: the head circumferences are just about equal at each stage – like father like daughter; Claire really is a mini-Aaron in so many respects. I’m taking the wait and see approach. I can’t help but trust my instincts on this.

While it may not be easy to tell from the pictures I post, or maybe it’s completely obvious, but Claire is big. She’s always been big. When she was born she weighed in at 8 pounds 6 ounces and was 19 1/4″ long. Nice work for a first baby. I’m not big but Aaron is tall and was a very big baby. So big, in fact, that my MIL didn’t want to tell me how big he was when he was born for fear that I would run out and schedule a C-section. Yes, he was that big. But thank goodness for the epidural, because I don’t remember any more pain than one could have delivering a baby. After her first week or so when she was starting to get the hang of breastfeeding, well, she’s been climbing the growth charts ever since.

I’ve never minded. She’s proportionately big and just so darn cute. Ok, sometimes I’ve minded when I’m trying to carry her and something else or if I’ve been holding her for a long time. I minded when we had to go back for a second check-up to measure her head to make sure there wasn’t extra fluid in her brain. Once I explained the size of my husband’s head (we even measured before the appointment), they chalked it up to genetics for now – we still have to be mindful of its size for next check-up. But for the most part I’m used to her size and my biceps are thankful because they are now huge (my triceps, on the other hand, look like change purses – I guess I’ll have to work on that someday).

Her age often makes her a show stopper. Hooray for babies! My neighborhood is very friendly (the city is friendly in general, which is why I will always want to live in a city surrounded by other people) and people always stop and wave when I’m on the street. (She’s just now learning to wave back – sometimes.) I love when people stop to talk to Claire. She needs to learn that she’s part of a world much bigger than herself; feeding Claire doesn’t have to be just about food – but now I’m on a tangent…

A few weeks ago I was at the Italian market, a crowded street market that is always full of friendly people. Walking around with a stroller is often tight and it becomes quite an intimate experience. When I’m with Claire, I don’t have to move very far before I get stopped and stopped and stopped and stopped.

As I was making my way between stands, a woman stopped me and instead of saying ‘Hello!’ or waving to Claire, she says, “That is one BIG baby! How old is she?”

“Almost 9 months,” I say.

“What?!” (I’m pretty sure – if this it’s possible – I could hear both the question and exclamation point.) “Hey!” She’s now calling to her friend who is a few steps ahead, “come take a look at this big baby!”

I say nothing. These two strangers were just staring; but, I felt ready to defend my baby.

“Oh my!” says woman #2. “What are you feeding her?”

“Well, food,” I say. There was nothing else to say. It was a slightly unnerving – I was surprised at how defensive I felt, if only for a fleeting moment. Then we all laughed and continued down the market. If there’s one thing about Philadelphia, especially South Philly, it’s that you’ll never know who you’re going to meet and what they’re going to say and usually it’s exactly what’s on their minds.

I may be used to her size but most people aren’t. Now, at almost ten months, people often mistake her for being 12 or 15 months. There is always a look of surprise when I say her age. It’s usually followed by a look of relief considering she would be developmentally behind any 15 month old. I don’t mind this either. Someday she will be as old as the other kids at the playground and even now she has a ton of fun watching them.

One of Claire’s favorite finger foods now is bread. I usually toast it, add a little – but not too much – butter, and give her little pieces. It’s so easy to pick up and she loves to ‘chew’ and say “nom, nom, nom, nom…” with each bite. I try not to give her too much bread but when I do I try to keep it brown. That’s not always the case, though, and I’m quite happy to do it. The bread pictured, though, is not your ordinary white bread.

About three blocks from our house is a French-Vietnamese bakery, Artisan Boulanger Patissier (the website doesn’t do it justice), that is run by a husband and wife. It’s a quiet, unassuming place. It’s not a cafe (although they do attempt a little atmosphere, but not much); but when you go in, the smell is so comforting and usually there’s a slight fog of flour floating in the air. It’s not quite Paris in the Springtime, but when I eat their croissants, I’m taken back to my Spring holiday there. Plus, the people are friendly. I always get into a conversation with Andre, the baker, and he’s always willing to share a madeleine with Claire (on the house – though I do go in there almost every other day).

I usually get a multigrain loaf, a beautiful brown poof of goodness, that is a little expensive ($5) but worth it. It doesn’t last very long because Aaron and I are always looking for meals around it. And Claire loves it. They didn’t have them today; I went a little later in the morning. I highly advise going as early as you possibly can because they sell out of things quickly and, while they post hours, they close when they run out of goods. So today I bought a country loaf. This gorgeous thing (ok, I’ll try to limit my use of gorgeous and beautiful in describing food – in this post – to once; but, you’ve just got to see this bread) only cost me $2!! That’s at least half of what I would spend on the grocery store, high-fructose corn syrup, lumps – I mean – loaves.

It is food like this that makes me not too concerned about nutrition and what is ‘best’ to eat. Good, real, just out of the oven white bread is better than any over-processed brown thing at the grocery store.

Every day I like to practice ‘talking’ with Claire. She’s staring to get the hang of it. She knows her name when I call her and loves when I say ‘No!’ She finds it hilarious and then shakes her head and laughs some more. (This may be troublesome in the future, but for now it’s just the cutest.) We practice ‘mama’ a lot – probably more than most words, what can I say? – and ‘dada’, too. If you ask her where ‘dada’ is, she looks and (kind of) points. She can find my nose and stick out her tongue if you ask. All good things…

So yesterday I was getting her dressed and I asked her, ‘Who am I?’ And she promptly replied, ‘Mama, mamamamama’. Close enough! I took the bait! So I asked again, ‘Who am I?’ Claire replied, ‘Mamamamama, mama!’ Whoo hoo! Claire is the smartest!! So, because this was becoming all about me, I asked a third time, ‘Who am I?’ And, of course, Claire replied, ‘Dada. Dada!’