Someone has opinions

Z seems like a real person now. He has very distinct opinions, interests, dislikes, etc. We're talking specifics here people. He played for about 30 minutes with a wax paper bag. Only that bag would do. Do not take away the bag.

I guess getting his third tooth has made him decide he needs to eat all the things. I sent some food with him to his sitter's house for the first time on Monday because she said he'd been giving her the eye. We hadn't really been feeding him more than dinner at home, so I just tossed in a variety of things I had on hand in case he was feeling picky, but I didn't expect him to eat much.

I was mistaken.

He wanted ALL the things.

Two containers of fruits, some crackers, and some of what his sitter's kids were having for lunch and I guess he was okay. When this was reported to me I thought, "EH!?" Since when does he have a hollow leg? Since Monday apparently because yesterday he housed his fruit and yogurt breakfast and then proceeded to put away a bowlful of corn, quinoa, kale puree, multiple crackers, and some cooked apple.

This is where our son's opinions come in.

The child was shrieking in his high chair. Straining against the straps, flinging his head back as far as he possibly could, pushing against the tray with his feet. Just freaking out in general. We reacted like any (new?) parent might-

"He must be in pain! Get him out of the highchair!!"

(Remove child from high chair. Eats in mama's lap for a bit. Still has rage. Clearly wants food. Returned to high chair. Rage renews.)

This was the ultimate solution to Z's rage . He required the following things (Duh, Mom and Dad. Why did it take you so long to figure out?):

• Two dinner items (apples AND puree) to alternate between
• An assortment of finger foods so he could practice his new trick of feeding himself crackers
• An empty bowl to pick up occasionally and examine
• sometimes the bowl was hurled to the floor. It then needed to be returned promptly.

Once these "needs" were fulfilled the child was happy as a clam and joyfully inhaled his dinner with much cheer.

He also vomited (spit up? I'm never sure) some of those dinner items at an unknown time of the night, rubbed his head in the puddle, rolled over and went back to sleep. Apparently he didn't feel like this was an issue he needed to cry about to let me know something was amiss. Oh sure, some nights he cries for no discernible reason, but this time... naaahhh... he's all good Mama! Ain't no thang! Vomit sleep is fun!