Yogurt? I love yogurt.

Seriously, I think she does. Maybe too much.

Yogurt and her favorite pastas are the only things she'll allow me to spoon feed her. While both make her happy, only one makes a considerable mess. (Which deep down, kind of makes me happy. I'm not yet out of  the sloppy-baby-covered-in-food-oh-look-she's-so-cute phase. Soon, though. Soon.)
And I'd feel guiltier ('cause seriously point me out a momma who couldn't feel guiltier) about the sugar in her organic blueberry yogurt if it weren't so high in protein, calcium and vitamins A & D. At least, I point those things out to my conscience when I do start to fret about the sugar.
Speaking of sugar, look at the monster that greeted me when I went to pick up my daughter from her day care Halloween party

Little lady was tweaking like Andy Dick after an all-nighter.
Day care gave her class cupcakes, cheese puffs, fried chicken strips and bananas. All things the parents brought for the party, mind you. Yeah. Guess who brought the bananas? And yeah. Guess who ate the bananas?
Ah well, it was a special occasion. And we did try.
Truthfully, she had a great time and was super cute covered in frosting. I just hope these moments really are only special occasions. I don't want to raise a sugar monster.

War and peas

As I mentioned the other day, I've got some leftover baby food issues. Namely the cubes of frozen purees sitting idly in Ziplock bags, beckoning me to thaw them or at least build a colorful igloo.
Every time I open the freezer door for some ice cream or a veggie burger patty, there they are. Reminding me of the energy and ingredients I put into making them. Shaming me for the waste.
No more, I say! This is war.
I conquered the leftover butternut squash and sweet potatoes in a spicy bisque on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I nearly conquered the sweet peas.
One of Josie's favorites right now is cheesy tomato (and chicken) pasta. So if she likes that, who's to say she won't like cheesy peasy chicken pasta?

I mean it is made of all the same ingredients, except I substitute sweet green peas for the tomato. It takes the same amount of time to make — No. Wait. Less time! You don't have to blanch and peel a tomato. It's a mini meal. And it has a cute name.

Next battle: green beans. I'm recruiting kitchen soldiers. Anyone want to strategize on how to take down the ranks of leftovers in my freezer?

When a life hands you baby food, make...soup?

Tuesday night I was scrubbing pots until nearly 10. Yeah, I party.
But I'm not telling y'all this to solicit sympathy. Rather, I'm going to brag on myself.
I'm writing a column for The Clarion-Ledger (the daily newspaper in Jackson, Miss.) about making baby food and why I do it to run on its Dining page. And so the pot washing was the result of making and photographing a butternut squash puree.
While the prospect of writing a first-person column — only my second ever for the newspaper — is exciting, I'm more proud of me for my little blip of Polish ingenuity.
You see, Josie's not eating purees any more. She loved 'em. But now she's on to bigger bites.
I'm a firm believer in waste not, want not. That meant I was stuck with a puree. To add insult, my freezer still has a few bags of various untouched, blended veggies. Frankly, I was feeling a bit outnumbered.
Good thing I was craving soup. Actually ever since posting on my friend Noodles' blog, I've been wanting a nice, hearty butternut squash bisque. The stars were aligning.
After steaming the squash and running it through a blender, after I'd demonstrated the recipe and the photos were captured, I dumped the whole shebang into a pot that I had seasoned with extra virgin olive oil, garlic and a generous amount of dried thyme, allspice, cinnamon, cumin, ginger and cayenne.
I added a little chicken broth and the rest of the pureed butternut squash and sweet potato baby food cubes from the freezer and presto! I had a spicy bisque.
No one at my table will have to know it was once baby food. Y'all CAN keep a secret, right?

Mommy's little baby loves cornbread, cornbread

My southern belle had a down home feast Sunday night. I'm talking pinto beans and cornbread, y'all.

And judging by her face and hands and shirt, she loved it.

Then again, it's hard not to love my husband's homemade cornbread. Just ask Josie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RtkbHO7IDVI

And look! She has her Braves shirt on. It don't get more southern.

P.S. I did it! Pshew. I'm s-m-r-t.

Blargh!

Well y'all. For the last two days, I've been trying to post a super cute video about how much my daughter loves cornbread. But as you can see, no video. Blogger and Flip aren't speaking, apparently, and I'm stuck in the middle.
So, until I can work it out between the two, let me leave you with a non sequitur warning: DO NOT LET YOUR BABY TRY CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM LESS THAN AN HOUR BEFORE BEDTIME.
(Really, this doesn't need explanation. And frankly, I'm still too worn out from our misadventures to talk about it.)

Weekend recipe: baby quiche

The other day I was soliciting breakfast ideas for Josie after falling into a rut of cereal and fruit. Thanks to kind hearted readers, I am regaining my mojo. Josie thanks you, too.

One of the ideas that has gone over really well so far is from my coworker Lisa. She said to bake eggs in a muffin pan, like quiches. I tweaked the idea by adding cottage cheese, which Josie is crazy about.

These quiches won my heart because they are easy to make, easy to store and made with whole foods. Josie fell in love with their eggy, cheesy goodness.

Breakfast bachelor No.1, step up and introduce yourself.

Baby Quiche

(Does not contain real baby)

Time

15 minutes

Ingredients and Equipment

This recipe should yield six quiches.

- 6 egg yolks (save the whites for a healthy grown-ups' omelet)

- 1 heaping cup cottage cheese

- pinch of dried chives (optional)

- muffin pan

Directions

In a bowl, mix the egg yolks, cottage cheese and chives. Pour the mixture evenly into a muffin pan and bake at 375 degrees for about 5-10 minutes, until the tops are firm and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

(NOTE: I didn't use a nonstick muffin pan and discovered I should have sprayed the bottom with oil. Also, my muffin pan had 12 muffin cups. So, I poured a little water into the six empty cups so that the heat would be even. I think the water also added some steam and helped keep the quiches from drying out.)

Please sir, I want some more

Actually, it was more like, "Daddy, if you don't give me some more cheesy tomato pasta I'm going to FLIP OUT!!!!"

Yeppers. That was the scene this evening at the feeding Josie table.

Daddy was giving Josie dinner while Mommy was getting dressed for date night. (Can I get a hallelujah!) And because it's Friday, we thought Josie should also enjoy one of her favorite meals. Cheesy tomato pasta (this time mixed with a cube of pureed chicken).

She was in carbo-dairy bliss. That is until the spoon hit the bottom of the bowl.

I swear I've never seen her do this before. She scrunched her face into a prune. Turned red. Let out a piercing howl. And followed it up with deep growl.

Part of me was deeply flattered that she enjoyed what I made her so much. The other part of me was kind of scared.

Luckily, before we lost any fingers to Chompers Eatemup, Chris got her some baby quiche.

Man, those Polish fressin' genes are dominant!

My kitchen helpers

Here's a peep over the guard rails and into the pit of my mad dash to make dinner most nights. Introducing my "helpers" if you will...all except poor Maxine. The only 70-pound sheprador I know who is scared of cameras.

Daddy often takes pictures while Mommy is up to her wrists in pumpkin bread batter or giblet gravy. Josie's job is to look cute and eat things.

Like, um, lens caps. (Seriously, we don't let her eat lens caps. Though she tries mightily.)

So lookout Keebler elves! These are the best food-makin' helpers ever. And they don't wear creepy yellow short pants and floppy red hats. (Seriously, they don't. Though they'd be mighty cute in that get-up, too.)

Leftover hash

Mommy's a little worn out, y'all. So it's leftover hash for dinner tonight. By that I mean bits and pieces of thoughts and events related to feeding my chick from this week all mixed together.

A little a this: I finally got a copy of the menu from Josie's daycare. Some of it's good.

Like today, she ate steamed cabbage, black-eyed peas and cornbread. Made my southern heart sing.

Some of it's not so good. I think I read tater tots, veggie sticks (what the heewho are those) and buttered corn a few too many times.

The plan now is that I'll send back-up lunches on days that end in "Why is that on the menu?"

A little of that: I went to Target on the way home from work with Pooter for provisions. It was very Oregon Trail.

Any way, I was walking down the baby food aisle in search of those disposable place mats with sticky on the bottom that are a godsend at restaurants when the baby snacks started calling my name. Now, I know you're not supposed to shop when you're hungry. (I'm always hungry.) Still, I thought that couldn't cause trouble when I'm shopping for someone else...could it? And that's how baby cookies found their way into my cart.

Arrowroot cookies. They look like teething biscuits. And arrowroot? Doesn't that sound healthy? Like some grain with fibrous sheaths that could lower your cholesterol by just looking at it.

Well, who knows. I still don't. After shaking the magic Gerber dust out of my eyes, I do know those cookies are just cookies. Sweet, sweet cookies.

I ate one. I gave Josie one. She saw me open the crinkly, brightly hued package. She looked up with Moon Pie eyes. I caved.

We relished our cookies. Well, actually she gummed hers and then dropped half on the floor.

Then, she gave me a big, wet, open-mouthed kiss and left hand prints on my pants.

For that kind of exchange, perhaps I can overlook the high fructose corn syrup. But only every once in a while.

Cause that how it be sometimes.

Baby seeking breakfast for daycare meet-ups

What is breakfast exactly? Some say it's the most important meal of the day.

Bacon and eggs? Pancakes? Cereal? Or if we're asking college-aged me, leftover Chinese takeout or cold spaghetti?

I guess the answer must be E. All of the above.

Unless, that is, we're talking about breakfast for babies. And here, super readers, lies my very big problem. (Side note: I've been watching way too much Super Why.)

Josie is no longer in love with pureed fruit and baby cereals. The super polished flakes that dissolve instantly in a slurry of peaches just don't rev her morning motor anymore.

It's not that she won't eat those foods. Rather, she just prefers not to. She's more interested in what she can feed herself. Perhaps, I'm projecting this intolerance of being spoon fed upon her. Or perhaps, I've been slap-splattered by fruit and cereal too many times. Either way, I'm declaring an open relationship on breakfast. Josie is officially free to see other foods.

She ate breakfast at daycare on Monday. A blueberry muffin and pineapple. OK. Fine. Not great for every day, but an alright "HOLY CRAP! We are running late AGAIN! No time to pack breakfast!" option.

So, help me play matchmaker. Let's set Josie up with some new options.

Likes: fruit, cheese, eggs, whole grains, quick to make or easy to make ahead, can be eaten with fingers

Dislikes: unnecessary sugar, highly processed grains, tough to chew, must be eaten with utensils or spoon fed.

Mostly looking for a good time or a one-morning fling. But not opposed to settling down and making this a long term relationship.

Weekend recipe: turkey meatballs

I need to air something out straight away: This recipe was inspired by those soft processed meat sticks sold as toddler food but are really Vienna sausages.

Now, let me explain. My husband and I passed them on a recent trip for baby supplies and I remember thinking, "Wow! Are those what I think they are? For babies?"

And while the snacks are marketed as healthy, easy ways to get your child to eat meat, I think you could still smoosh them onto a Ritz cracker and dot them with hot sauce.

But enough judgment, they got me thinking about what I could make that would deliver protein, allow Josie to eat with her hands and give me piece of mind that there are no unrecognizable animal parts (or lots of salt) in them.

To make it more of a challenge on myself, I also began plotting a way to sneak in vegetables. Not that I'm really worried about Josie rejecting veggies...yet. It's just that I've got a freezer of vegetable purees, she no longer will stand to be fed. (This goes back to her recent discovery of I-can-do-it-myself-edness.)

For more inspiration, I looked to my dad. While there are tons of trickery cook books out today that have recipes for brownies concealing spinach or mac'n'cheese(n'carrots), my dad invented "the sneak" as far as I'm concerned. I'm not braggin' or nothing. He was a master of getting veggies in very non-veggie stuff.

Though, to be fair, points would have to be deducted for his meatballs that were either alien shades of green or orange thanks to the plants lurking inside. The meatballs tasted great and, fortunately, my brother and I were intrigued by the color spectrum they painted on our plates.

Turkey meatballs

This recipe can make meatballs for the whole family. I made them for dinner in two sizes: nickel-sized for baby and tangerine-sized for grown-ups. I mixed one big batch out of the raw ingredients, but cooked them differently. For babies, I simmered them in unsalted chicken broth until they were thoroughly poached. For grown-ups, I baked them and then added them to a spicy marinara.

Time

Less than an hour

Ingredients and Equipment

- 1 1/2 pounds of ground turkey (We used very lean, 93/7 blend)

- 1 piece of whole wheat bread, dried out and pulsed into crumbs in a food processor

- 1 egg

- 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

- 2 cubes pureed butternut squash (about two tablespoons)

- 2 cubes pureed sweet green peas (about two tablespoons)

- salt-free Italian herb seasoning (just a few pinches)

- several cups of salt-free or low sodium chicken broth

- food processor

- sauce pot

- slotted spoon

Directions

- Mix the ground turkey, bread crumbs, egg, olive oil, vegetable purees and seasoning in a mixing bowl. Combine using your hands to make sure everything is incorporated, but do not go crazy and over mix.

- Roll nickel-sized meatballs in the palms of your hands until relatively smooth. Lay them on parchment paper or a plate or really any clean, flat surface

- Bring the chicken broth up to a steady simmer, NOT A BOIL. Liquid that is bubbling and rolling too rapidly could cause the meatballs to break apart.

- Add just a few raw meatballs at a time to the simmering broth. They should float to the top, but make sure they have fully cooked before removing them. I allowed mine to simmer for at least 10 minutes (out of an abundance of caution). You may want to test the first one or two to make sure you have the timing down.

- Let cool and serve. I cut them in half for Josie, but older kids may be OK with whole ones.

As Josie gets older, I think I'll experiment with sauces and presentation, but I still think I may be employing "the sneak."

Biscuits and vigilance

Now that Josie has chompers, or rather the tips of the icebergs, and is pretty adept with finger foods, I thought we would see how she would like teething biscuits.

I have to admit I was anxious about giving them to her. I'm still anxious as she sits next to me in her high chair sucking away on one. That's because often I (FREAK OUT) am concerned about her choking. And I am (obsessed) vigilant.

But I try to trust my daughter and make sure I watch her while she's introduced to knew things.

This new thing. She likes this new thing.

It's part toy, part food. What's not to like?

She's alternating between rubbing it across her gums and sucking on it like a Rendezvous rib. Get it girl!

Meanwhile, I'll be right here to sneak away any too big bits she cracks off...you know, just in case.

Houston, we have chompers!

Josie has been a little cranky this week. I thought it was the remnants of a cold getting her goat. Or possibly the weaning. Or the transition to table foods.

Turns out it may be none of those reasons.

Tonight at dinner, while Josie was mid-Captain Cranky Pants routine, Daddy scooped her up and let her gnaw on his finger.

AND HE FELT A TOOTH!

Perhaps two. Center. On the bottom.

I'm conflicted. I'm going to miss that gummy grin. But I'm also hoping that once those pearly whites are fully through the gums that Josie will return to Fanny Fun'n'Stuff, Lady Laughsalot, Senorita Sweetness, Princess Puddin' Cup.

In the meantime, break out the teething biscuits and champagne (err...sparkling grape juice).

Josie vs. tofu

If a picture paints a thousand words, then this video paints a gazillion.

Tonight, Josie was introduced to tofu. I heard it's a good finger food. It's soft. It packs protein. It's mild flavored.

But none of that mattered to Josie. She just thought NEW!!! AIGHT!!!!

Gotta love her excitement about new food, no matter how bland or squishy. (Though, I must say I personally love tofu...just not plain like she tried it.)

I think I'll adopt her gusto. Even when it's a plain tofu-sorta day.

What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine

That's apparently Josie's new fooditude (That's right. I'm combining words like peanut butter and jelly). But before I explain, allow me to do what I so frequently enjoy. Let's Tarantino this!

So as you may recall, today was Josie's first day eating big kid lunch at daycare. I was a little nervous, which I think may be my normal state now. As usual, all that worry was in vain. Head lady said Josie was super excited when she realized she was being seated with the table food-eaters and not the spoon-feeders this afternoon.

She ate pasta and corn and tropical fruit. Now, I'm not totally enthused about the corn and pasta. I don't count corn as a true vegetable. I count it as a starch. But I know Josie will get plenty of veggies, and apparently she really liked the corn.

In fact, I think lunchtime may have looked something like this:

That is if Josie were Godzilla (or Babyzilla) and corn were Tokyo.

Since she did so well at lunch, I thought she should have an all-finger-foods dinner. My parents were in town and we all went out to eat at an Italian restaurant. I toted along steamed carrots and peas in case there wasn't anything I thought Josie could eat off the menu.

BOY WAS I WRONG!

She snacked on the peas and carrots until my chicken parmigiana came. But it wasn't the chicken she had her eye on. Rather, the sides of rotini alfreddo and sauteed spinach caught her eye.

I spooned a few cut-up pieces of rotini (double pasta day) and spinach onto her place mat but didn't really think she'd be that into it since both were garlicky, and I don't just mean a little bit.

BOY WAS I WRONG!

She inhaled it. Looked up and demanded more. "Dedd darhhh jerrhhh!"

She ate off my plate for the rest of dinner.

By the end of the meal, her cheeks were smeared with cheese sauce and spinach. She smelled like a garlic roll. I almost took a bite.

And as I tried to scrape the scraps off her place mat, she looked up at me with a pouty face that said "No, mommy. No."

Apparently, little piggy doesn't share. But I gotta respect that. Girl don't play.

'Cause she's a big kid now...

Josie is moving up in the ranks of daycare. In the seven short months since she started, she's crawled her way (Ha! Did you see what I did there?) from arm baby to crumb-snatcher. Literally.

When I picked her up this evening, the head lady in her classroom reiterated Josie's love of feeding herself and general disdain for being spoon fed. All stuff I had heard before. But to really get me to listen, head lady said the following:

"We caught her stealing food of their trays."

WHA?! By "their trays," she meant the trays used by just a few of the older babies in her class, the ones about to turn a year old who eat the daycare-cooked lunches of mashed table food rather than Gerber or homemade blends.

Head lady gave up trying to get Josie to eat the lentil stew lunch I so lovingly prepared after she repeatedly knocked away the spoon like LeBron dunk blocking Kobe. Head lady turned her back for a split second to reach into the cabinet for the old standby, applesauce and cereal. When head lady whipped around, Josie (who is also now pulling up on anything sturdy) had her paws in another kid's peas.

I was simultaneously embarrassed and proud.

"Oh, Josie," I said as my daughter clung on like a koala, looking earnestly in my eyes and listening to head lady recount the whole sordid tale. "You're not going to make any friends by stealing food, my dear."

She laughed, grabbed my earring and replied, "Dahd dahd darrrrhhhhh."

As sincere an apology as I've ever heard.

So, tomorrow Josie will join the big(ger) babies for daycare lunch.

And I will enter uncharted waters of worry: How much salt are they putting in that food? Will she like it as much as the food I made her? Will she like it MORE?

Head lady assured me that it won't cost more, that Josie will only get foods that are appropriate for her age and soft enough to be gummed, that the finger foods will be mashed or cut up, that she will get vegetables and fruits. Stay tuned....

Land shark

The central Mississippi land shark may be a smallish creature during her infancy. But even at 20 pounds, she circles dens and dining rooms and kitchens with a ferocious appetite.

And though toothless, her jaws manage to overpower the unfortunate morsels that find themselves in her way.

Here, we see her helpless prey is a strawberry yogurt melt. She has not met many of these in her short lifetime. Still, it seems this cunning predator is set on attack.

Perhaps the most dangerous feature of the land shark, besides her appetite, is her lightning fast phalanges. Indeed, this is a feat of anatomy her oceanic cousins wished they possessed.

And what the land shark lacks in toothage, she more than makes up for with powerful grip and gaping jaw. CHOMP!

Poor yogurt melt never saw her coming. We can only hope it didn't have a family.

Weekend recipe: croque bebe

Here's my sigh of relief. Josie is recovering this weekend from a viral cold that burned her up for about a day and took away her appetite. But she woke up Saturday morning just in time for brunch.

I was so happy that she was game for a meal and sweet talked my man — THE BREAKFAST MASTER — into making our little bunny a special treat. Cue the bread. Cue the cheese.

Croque Bebe

This is a play on the French comfort food croque monsieur, which is sort of a savory, eggy grilled bread with ham and cheese. Except, no ham and sandwichified. (Oooh. That's a $10 word I just made up.)

And it is another recipe borrowed from What to Expect the First Year and tweaked. (We also cut the recipe in half because the serving size seemed too large.)

Time

Less than 20 minutes

Ingredients and Equipment

- 1 egg yolk

- 1/8 cup formula or breast milk

- about an ounce of sliced cheddar, Swiss or American cheese

- 1 slice of whole wheat bread cut in half; crusts removed

- vegetable oil cooking spray

- saute pan or griddle

Directions

- Beat the egg yolk and formula/breast milk together in a bowl

- Sandwich the cheese between the two pieces of bread. Soak the sandwich in the egg mixture until it absorbs the liquid.

- Spray pan or griddle with oil and cook sandwich over medium heat until it is golden brown on both sides (about five minutes). Make sure not to burn either side.

- Cut the sandwich into small pieces and serve warm. (The sandwich should be served on the day it is made. Leftovers can be refrigerated and reheated in a toaster oven at 325 degrees for a snack later in the day.

Mmmm...grilled, cheesy, eggy, good.

Post Script: Our dog, Maxine, liked it too. The chunks that didn't make it into Josie's mouth somehow found a way into hers. (Next time, I'll get a photo of that.)

Under the weather, away from the table

101.3 degrees. That was Josie's temperature this afternoon.

I rushed from work to daycare to pick her up after getting a call saying she was warm to the touch, whiny and not interested in eating.

I can't say whether I was more worried about the fever — unbelievably her first since starting daycare seven months ago — or her lack of appetite.

Even when Josie had ear infections, she ate. Even when she was stuffy, she nursed...a bit like a fish out of water, gasping between gulps.

As I scooped my toasty sweet potato into my arms, one of her teachers handed me her lunch bag.

"She just didn't have it in her," she said earnestly. "I knew when she didn't want to eat her lunch that she wasn't feeling it."

The pediatrician checked her ears and throat. All looked fine. A little congestion. No antibiotics needed. Just some Tylenol and TLC. The doc left the room saying Josie should be feeling better in a day or two.

I'll give a sigh of relief when she resumes banging on her high chair for me to hurry up with the eats.

Just a handful of cheese helps the spinach go down

Yep. Mary Poppins said it best.

Tonight, I made Josie spinach, which she apparently hasn't quite warmed up to despite a semi-warm reception for the saag aloo I made a while back.

Perhaps, the texture is to blame. Or the verdant, grassy flavor. Eh, it's new.

Josie took a tentative bite, opened her mouth and removed the food with her hands. Then, she ran it through the fuzz that has sprouted atop her coconut noggin. It was cute, but it was not eatin'.

In a stroke of brilliance, my husband handed me a secret weapon: a bag of shredded cheese. The bag was on the dining room table because the grown-ups were having black bean chili over rice. (When's pay day? Can I get an amen?)

I put a pinch of shredded cheese on her high chair, which she had painted with spinach, and, of course, she shoved it enthusiastically into her face.

And she didn't care that globs of spinach were going in with it. So, (again brilliantly) my husband suggests mixing more cheese with the rest of the spinach. Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant!

We all won.

I love stories that end happily.

Sometimes, I get in my own way

I know I'm going to sound like a big ole hypocrite when I say this, but I recently have decided to supplement Josie's diet with formula. Wait! Did you just extol the virtues of breastfeeding, like um, last month?

Yes. I did. And I stand by every word. Let's just say I got my reasons.

They are:

1. I'll be away from home for about a week in November and I don't have enough breast milk stored up. In fact, at the time I made the decision four weeks ago to start supplementing, there was no breast milk in the freezer at all, despite the sizable stockpile I had going this spring. I guess between Josie's growth spurts, the "low times" and a few night shifts when I missed some feedings, the cupboard went bare during the summer.

2. I want a divorce from my pump. (Dear pump, You and I had a good run. There were good times, like when I'd gallop into the kitchen with two four-ounce bottles held high and proclaim, "PERSONAL BEST!" But we both knew the relationship wasn't going to last when we started. I mean, we were using each other. Well, really. I was using you...but any way. Look, I know I couldn't have gotten this far without you, but I'm growing tired of the hassle. You are high maintenance. And after 10 months, you kinda suck. Maybe, one day a couple of years from now, we'll pick back up. Right now, though, I need a break.)

3. I want my boobs back! (Plus, breastfeeding during tailgating season= no thanks. Tried it. Didn't like it.)

Why are you confessing all this? Because I do feel guilty. And I do still fret over the decision. I was/am proud of my decision to breastfeed for so long.

Yet, I can't help but wonder if Josie will feel rejected even though I know she will be able to handle the formula from a digestive standpoint. I'm still nursing during the morning and at night — basically any time we are home together — and sending formula bottles with her to daycare.

OK. To the point. All this is to say: Sometimes, I get in my own way.

The week I bump up Josie's three daycare bottles to all formula, Similac recalls its powdered products, the brand and formula types pretty much everyone is using. She(and I) had just gotten used to the idea of formula and then BLAMO!

And here's where my (so not) genius comes in. Instead of buying the super expensive concentrate or the super duper expensive "ready to feed" formula that weren't included in the recall, I try and see if I can't save a buck. Oh yes!

So I buy the store brand. The organic store brand. (Hey! If I'm going to buy generic, at least it's the fancy, more expensive generic. And look! It's organic. So, it's not too bad, right? RIGHT?!)

I save $5.

Just as the little voice I tried to muffle in the back of my mind warned me, Josie hated it. I've never seen her reject something flat out before. She literally would spit it out and slap the bottle away. When I tried to feed her, "nope!" When her daddy tried to feed her, "Nope!" When the daycare teachers (who I swear can get her to eat anything) tried to feed her, " I SAID NOPE!"

I kept thinking — hoping really — that she'd get used it. "Give her time. She just has to get used to it. She's gonna get used to it." That became my mantra of denial.

On Monday afternoon, I was upset. It was day three of the hunger strike. Josie was eating her solids, nursing and drinking water...yet her liquid intake had dropped in half. Chris and I popped in to daycare to see how she was. The daycare teachers tried to look nonchalant but strongly suggested we pony up for the super duper expensive "ready to feed" formula. And we did. And now, all is well again.

I swallowed my pride. It was kinda nasty. Not what I'm used to. But I'm sure, in my new role as mommy, I'm gonna get used to it.

Weekend recipe: cheesy tomato pasta

Last week, one of Josie's daycare teachers told us that she has started "chewing" her food more — quite a feat for someone who STILL has no teeth. "I think she's wanting something a little more...chunky," she said.

And I've noticed Josie setting a pick more and more when I'm feeding her purees and stage 2 foods. She wants to grab the spoon. She wants to grab handfuls of puree. She wants to finger paint and style her hair with it. But she does not want to eat it.

So, I promised to start making more toothsome...no, gumsome...foods for Josie. I know that there are stage 3 foods out there, but after looking at the labels I've decided to avoid them if I can. It seems this is the stage where the unpronounceable ingredients appear. Not to say I'm against ever using them, but I haven't found a reason to yet.

This afternoon, I turned to a few mommy how-to books for guidance. I tried out two recipes and both seem to have turned out fairly well. I'm posting the one Josie gobbled up for lunch.

Cheesy Tomato Pasta

(Adapted from What to Expect the First Year)

Time

20 minutes or less

Ingredients and Equipment

- 2 or 3 ounces of pasta, preferably whole wheat and small in shape

(I used one called ditalini, but you could use small penne and slice it up after it has cooked)

- 1/2 teaspoon of extra virgin olive oil

- 1 ripe tomato, peeled, seeded and diced

- 1 tablespoon of cottage cheese

- 1/4 cup of shredded cheese such as cheddar

- small saute pan

- food processor

Directions

- Cook pasta in boiling water until very soft (not al dente)

- Peel tomato by placing it in simmering water for a couple of minutes and then directly into cold water. The skin should slip right off.

- Squeeze out the seeds and cut into small pieces. Saute in olive oil, on medium heat for a couple of minutes.

- Remove the tomato from heat and stir in cottage cheese and shredded cheese, stirring to make a sauce.

- Mix pasta and sauce

- Blend to desired texture in the food processor

IF YOUR BABY CAN HANDLE LARGE, SOFT PIECES AND IS GOOD AT SELF-FEEDING: Mix the pasta and sauce, let it cool and serve. Since Josie is just moving up to chunky food, I put the pasta and sauce in a food processor — but just long enough to blend everything into pea-sized pieces.

Also, I found my tomato gave off a lot of water. But that was fine because I was blending everything. If you're serving this to an older baby who doesn't need blended food, you may want to drain some of the juice off the sauteed tomato before adding the cheeses.

YUM!

Football Saturday

I'm a Georgia Bulldog through and through. (Go Dawgs! Despite this lackluster season.) However, I've also been adopted by one of my husband's alma maters, the University of Southern Mississippi. In fact, I've taken to the Golden Eagles — and they to me — so strongly that I've been to more games in Hattiesburg than I attended in Athens (which is to say more than one). What brings me back is the accessibility, the friendliness of fans and, of course, the food. These people throw down.

This year, we wanted to include Josie in the tailgating festivities. But since she's not able to handle barbecued brisket or Zapp's potato chips, I was wondering what she could have.

I decided to pack foods that she is able feed herself, with flavors she likes and that have a bit more texture so she can practice chewing (though she still has no teeth?!).

On the menu for Josie:

- steamed sweet potato

- banana pieces

- cottage cheese

- pureed pears

- a biscuit

- puffs

It's (mostly) healthy and I think she'll like it. It doesn't scream tailgate food, but I'm holding down the junk food end of the spectrum. After all, I started my day with a giant eggs and biscuit breakfast followed by a handful of Junior Mints (those count as a vegetable).