While I was growing up, I was always told that I hated baby food and sneezed or spit it on the person feeding me. I struggled to eat enough and didn't grow very much. I wasn't motivated to grow or learn to move. (I did spend time mastering my slave).
So now, while I spend time scraping rice cereal off my face, and 20 minutes hoping to get Blanket to swallow any amount of cereal I am reminded of all those stories about me as a kid. While I was just worried about his slow growth I realized he was turning into me, albeit with a much higher birthweight. All the things my caregivers hated about me, are about to find their way into my life. Its like overcoming myself a whole generation later. fun.