I am considering suggesting a new Olympic sport for 2012: I would call it 'Baby Wrestling'. To participate you need one particularly wiggly baby, and one unexperienced and unsuspecting mother caught in the crossfire.
This evening I made the bad decision to give the baby a bath, followed by a tea of baby porridge and then bed. Oliver LOVES his porridge, and today was a prime example: He gobbled it down very fast, while also attempting to use his new favourite toy- his sippy cup- and tipping it all over him (he hasn't worked out how to get any out yet, only push bubbles in) and tries to cram both hands AND FEET into his already-porridge-filled mouth. "Ahhh, licking porridge off my toes" he thinks, "what could be better?" He grunts for more, and I, as a poor unexperienced mother, oblige, while trying my hardest to keep all his limbs away from the mean machine that is his mouth. Unfortunately, by this point he has a tummy ache from eating so fast, which he cunningly plans to overcome by crying out for moe, flailing his porridge-y legs and desperately grabbing hold of his once-clean pajamas.
Moral of the story? Accept that feeding porridge to a wiggly baby requires both parents, and all available limbs. Or rather, next time give the boy a bath AFTER tea :)
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