Rowan has always been a good eater. From the first licks of non-alcoholic Strawberry Daquiri in the Bahamas (thanks so much for that, Chad) to bowls of grits mixed with chicken and mixed veggies last night, she eats it all, even the lima beans. Her only requirement is variety--should we give her one thing too many times, she'll reject it and throw a little tantrum in the high chair, flinging the food all over the floor. She is currently off bananas, Cheerios and yams for this reason.
As we sit down to dinner, she eats along side us, and this has worked great. She behaves well at the table, and is good in restaurants, too. Lately, however, she's begun to notice when her food is different than Mom and Dad's. She'll stare pointedly at our dinner, and then look down to her plainer fare, and stop eating.
So, lately she's become even more adventurous in her food offerings. Tandoori chicken and basmati rice. Philly cheesesteak. Fresh lemons from my iced tea. We did find one thing she didn't like at all, which actually surprised me since I craved it while I was pregnant--root beer. She spit the entire mouthful down her shirt, but then stopped grabbing my styrofoam cup out of my hand, so I guess it was a mixed blessing.
Yesterday, continuing in her whirling dervish phase, she made a beeline for the corner of the kitchen to try something new. Luckily, I caught her before she had swallowed.
I don't think Lucy's Canine Crunchies were designed for babies of the human variety.