Let Them Eat Carrot Bread

A couple of weekends ago I bought some pumpkin bread at the farmer's market. Lumpyhead liked it - and more importantly, it didn't stop up his plumbing - so I bought some more last weekend. I also bought some carrot bread, which Lumpyhead liked even more, possibly because it was covered with icing. It was pretty sweet to begin with; I don't think it needed the icing.

I stopped calling it "bread" and starting calling it what it really was: cake.

When Bump and I feed Lumpyhead, we usually announce what he's eating as we're shoveling. "Do you want some pears?" we ask, before inserting the spoon. When we try to give him something he doesn't want, he puts his hands up to his face and rubs them around. He plays remarkable defense, I must say. The other day I managed to sneak in some green beans despite his obvious . . . reluctance to eat beans. Instead of swallowing them, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, hoping the beans would slide off. They didn't. He eventually swallowed them. (Ha! Mommy wins!)

When he's done eating, but I'm trying to stick in a few more bites, he spits. (Ha! Mommy wears sweet potatoes!)

Then he laughs. I try to be stern about "No spitting!" but I don't think he's internalized the message.

The whole "announcing what he's eating" has worked out pretty well, and now he's expressing his preferences. He requests cake all the time. "Yogurt?" I ask.
"Cake," Lumpyhead responds, his little hands blocking the spoon.
So I'll try something else. "Blueberry?"
"Cake."
"Cheerio?"
Lumpyhead will open his mouth and stop the hand flailing. Lumpyhead usually can be distracted from his cake crusade by Cheerios. For a little while, anyway.

I've started denying him cake until he's eaten a respectable amount of other things, but at every meal you can guaran-damn-tee that he's getting cake eventually.

So far in the Word Department we've got "clock," "cake," "carrot," (which sounds like "cah-coh," kind of a combination of "cake" and "clock." He means these) and "book" (which sounds exactly like "clock" while reaching for the bookshelves). I guess that's technically only two words which he's managed to stretch into four.

Over Lumpyhead's breakfast this morning, Bump and I were both trying to get Lumpyhead to say some new words.

Bump: Can you say mama? Ma-ma?
Me: Can you say papa? Pah-pa?
Bump: Papa? Papa. Mama? Mama.
Me: Mama? Mama. Papa? Papa.
Lumpyhead: Cake.

"And make it snappy. The both of you," was implied in the tone.


A programming note: Tune in next Friday for the second installment of A Drinking Game Challenge. I haven't figured out the scoring for "Fork You" yet, so I didn't post it today. Also, I've been remiss in trying out Random Shit and A Fan so I can't report the changes/results. I tried to get Bump to play with me this week, but he just looked at me skeptically and said "How 'bout not?"

I bet I can convince Aunt Bob to play tonight.

I'm running out of material, too. So send me your challenge!