Pondering the Purees

Today I attended a baby shower for a friend of mine who is due 3 weeks after I am. One of the games we played was the infamous, "guess the baby food" game. 10 jars of baby food were set out without their labels, and the idea is to, just as the name implies, guess what the food is. When I have played this game in the past, the approach has been to sniff the contents of the jars. But today's game involved tiny plastic spoons. Oh heck, no. There was no way I was going to put pureed mystery food onto my tongue. The mothers standing near me had reminded me that I would be tasting what my baby would be eating someday, before that food entered his mouth. I shook my head, gave them an "are you out of your mind?" look, and said, "Well, I'm sure as heck not going to drink my own breastmilk! And I simply refuse to start myself on Stages 1-3 today," then proceeded to sniff.

I have fed babies countless times before, but I am no less repulsed by these concoctions today as I was then. Bananas, okay. Pears, fine. Squash, nearing gross, but not all that bad. It is when we start getting into entrees that claim to include courses in their little plastic buckets or glass jars that I start getting concerned. Macaroni and Cheese- but it looks like pudding. Where exactly are those noodles? Turkey Dinner. Chicken and vegetable dinner. Okay, now, tacking on "dinner" to the end of a baby food entree name inspires as much trepedation in me as foods that end in the word "food." As in, Velveeta is a "cheese food." If you have to describe to the consumer that the product is acutally edible, one must consider that the product is probably not that enticing.

A coworker of mine has got me thinking about making my own baby foods when the time comes. This appeals to me, as I'd know what's going into those little glass jars. But after today, I'm a little intimidated. Am I really to provide a 3-course meal in a jar? Do I put tiny portions of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, peas, and french bread into a blender and press puree? Might I throw a splash of Cabernet in there as long as we're at it?

I'm not sure how I plan to be able to feed our son without gagging when the time comes to pop open a jar of liquified meat. Let's hope Michael has a stronger stomach or at least sense of humor, because if I am relied upon to nourish this child, our baby will be living on those bananas and pears and become as picky of an eater as his mother.