The Jolly Green Giant In Training

I think I'm raising some Amazonian woman's son. Or maybe The Jolly Green Giant is part of my extended family and the genes skipped some generations just to activate in this last baby. Only, instead of green hulk like hues, he's tending towards his mom's pasty blinding white pigment that ultimately means keeping the sunscreen business afloat with our purchases alone. (Two thirds of my family are Casper the Ghost look-a-likes.)

This boy likes to eat. Sometimes I wonder if he's a mid-western farm boy in training. You know, those strapping lads who can carry pails of milk and bales of hay in one hand while wrangling a cow in the other. They eat like a lumberjack because they work sixteen hours straight. I think he might be planning his career early. Fortunately, breast milk is free because I'm pretty sure we'd have already had to take out a milk equity loan to cover formula costs. Forget college savings, we'd have a fork oh one k plan.

Maybe babies stress eat too. I know I start to crave chocolate or cheeseburgers when I'm stressed. (Oh who am I kidding? I crave all types of junk food when I stress.) Maybe he's worried that his stroller isn't cool enough or that his onesies aren't from Aeropostale like all the preppie babies. Maybe he's a little self conscious that his thighs are chubby, his teeth aren't coming in yet, and his bald little head, that once had downy soft dark hair, now resembles Uncle Fester's shiny, bald pate. (And where does the hair go anyway?)

All these worries make him turn to the food fountain for comfort. But you know it's a vicious cycle once you start and no amount of cooing, arm waving, and tummy time exercises seem to get rid of that pesky baby fat. Luckily, in another 6 or 7 months he'll find his religion in running which will help him tone down. Until you introduce those Gerber cereal puffs. (They're like crack!) And since they haven't yet formed the Gerber Graduate Overeater's Anonymous group, he won't have anyhere to turn for this puff addiction. Before you know it, buying one tube a week turns into two, two into three. Before you realize what's happening, he's a toddler puff junkie, eating a whole tube daily.

Or maybe it's more like, "Hmmm. I like sucking. Yum, pacifier. Mmm, my fingers. Yee haw, magic milk makers!"

I can stop anytime I want to!