The new year brings a strange mix of feelings. There is hope in the freshness, excitement in the not-knowing, and–for for me, always–melancholy in the ending. December closes out warm and cozy and full, and then January comes along feeling underfed and austere. The Christmas lights that glowed cheerily a few weeks ago are left up too long and now look cheap, tacky and forlorn. It rains. You can’t seem to get warm. If you’re like me, your eczema flares up and your hands crack and itch and bleed. We go back to school, to work, to reality, where we are supposed to set goals and get serious. January is not much fun.
There is, however, the whisper of renewal. It sneaks in with a subtlety that makes you wonder if you are imagining it. Each day starts to last just a little bit longer, and the sun feels a touch warmer when it shines. You notice a few more birds in the yard and buds on the lilacs and, in the nick of time, you remember that spring is coming. Spring, with its technicolor yards and cotton-ball clouds. All is not lost!
Each time Lucy does something new I feel the same happy-sadness I do with the coming of a new year. Happy because she is happy. And because she is healthy. Happy because I am so very proud of her. I am hopeful for her future. I am excited to get to know the person she will grow into. Sad, of course, because her babyness is fading. She is growing up so fast and I don’t want to let go or forget.
Mostly happy, though. Really, mostly happy.
Take, for instance, our recent forays into solid foods. As much as I love food and am looking forward to cooking and eating with Lucy, I was a little sad to offer her those first bites of bland rice cereal because they meant she was moving swiftly toward toddlerhood. But she has to grow up. And I was feeling guilty because she would watch Mike and I eat with such obvious interest. So, a few days shy of her half-birthday, we snapped a bib on her, and I mixed up a teensy amount of cereal in a little yellow bowl. She grabbed the spoon, licked it clean, and we were off on a new adventure. One more step forward for her and another small hurdle over for me.
And now we are having some fun. The sad, gruel-like rice cereal didn’t last long; she was not a fan, no matter which delicious puree of fruit or vegetable we added to it. So we have switched to oatmeal, and she laps it up. She loves squash, peas, pears, and prunes. She hasn’t made up her mind about green beans yet–she eats them but always looks unpleasantly surprised when she gets a mouthful. She likes to take a sloppy sip of water from her lion cup in between bites.
I have been using frozen produce for variety, but the most fun is making what I can for her out of the box of produce we get from Klesick Farms every week. So far, I have done roasted squash and steamed pears, each blended and strained after cooking. They come out silky-smooth, with intense color and flavor. I love that my baby will learn to eat what’s in season. I now find it hard to be patient as we introduce foods one at a time and wait the obligatory three days to check for allergic reaction. We have beets, parsnips, and sweet potatoes waiting to be tried. Soon it will be spring and then summer, and she’ll have peaches and spinach and berries and all sorts of good things.
Babies have to grow up. And January has to come. It is okay (I tell myself) to grieve the ending–just don’t get stuck there. Remember and rejoice in the promise of the spring that follows.
pruneandpear 