Eating in Motion
Sometimes the best breakfast start I can do for me and my babes is to peel an avocado for the three of us to share. Our toddler liked that it looked like an ice cream cone this morning in my hand and loved smashing her face in it for a massive bite - yes those are her teeth marks above. Baby boy still eats obedient spoon scoops, bracing himself on my knees. For me, this represents glorious healthy fat. Fat to sustain, fat to keep the milk flowing. Fat to keep my patience whirring.
Many nights when we eat a home cooked meal in the backyard the food is heaped on a huge platter for either Ian and I to dole out in breathless fury. If it's steamed chicken, 1st honorable dibs on the coveted legs will go to little girl, Ian polishes off the bone, and hands it off to baby boy for contended gnawing with his brand new trophy teeth. The whole scene is alarming and delightfully savage. Dinnertime looks like a wild intricate dance. There is a toss of limbs and trips and spills and excited mmmm's and maneuvering of sharp utensils. Ian swats wasps with a mini broom, River is doing somersaults in between gleefully stuffing her face, and the youngest protests if he realizes his turn has been skipped. We do this with my husband's heavenly pan-fried salmon too - all four of us negotiating for the wafers of delicious crispy fried skin.
This one plate, we-all-eat-the same-food-at-the-same-time approach when it works controls dishes and oily hands. Our children become little bouncing birdies chirping to fill their bellies. I think of other families around the world crouching, contending, enjoying together elbow to elbow. We get to eat and revel in yumminess together. True to our style, it's messy meyhem but super fun. One of those moments we feel like a true family.