My baby isn’t an infant anymore.
He’s taken strong strides firmly into babyhood, packing on some squishy thighs and a chubby double chin, cooing and burbling and grinning at everyone cheerfully, rolling onto his side (he almost rolled entirely from back to front last night but his elbows got in the way), and screaming at his mobile in frustration when the rolling doesn’t go his way.
He goes to daycare in the mornings now and has never had problems with separating, nor, surprisingly, did I have too much trouble separating from him. His daycare is literally around the corner from us and from what I’ve seen of daycares both here and in the US, he’s in a good facility and his caretakers seem genuine and kind.
We were advised to switch to a “satiating” form of his formula because he was getting hungry frequently throughout the day and his weight jumped from the 70th to the 90th percentile on the growth chart. So far so good with the new formula and next month we were advised to start with solid foods.
I guess it’s a mommy thing, to be agonizing over what I want the first food my baby to eat to be. Piet seems to be leaning towards fruit, I’m leaning towards vegetables.