Taste Test

It seems like, as of late, most Finley-related events usher in a new era. We’ve seen her develop her raspberry skills. She’s become mobile by learning how to roll. And because of her newfound mobility, we’ve moved into the world of baby proofing.

But every once in a while there comes a development that will create a chain reaction of events to last a lifetime. This week, we experienced just such an event. On Sunday, Finley had her initial foray into the land of solid food. Well, as solid as we could give her, anyway.

Momma mixed up a secret concoction that can only be described as rice cereal, formula and banana baby food. It was sort of a banana-rice frappe’. Needless to say, she wasn’t quite sure what was going on (You can watch it all happen in the latest Fin Clip).

In her 22 weeks of life, Finley has relied upon one thing to give her sustenance. A nipple. Whether it was real or synthetic, this magic font of food delivered liquid goodness to her awaiting belly. But now, the vehicle for her meals is a plastic-coated spoon. Unfortunately for her, this spoon does not allow the food to flow easily into her throat. No, she has to actually work at it. She has to get her tongue and gums to work together to get that stuff down the gullet. Not that easy, if you’ve never done it before.

We all take for granted how easy it is to bite into an apple or chomp on a burger. We would eat in our sleep, it’s so easy (And oh, how I’ve tried). That’s because we don’t remember the first time we tried eating. Plus, most of us have a full set of incisors, canines, bicuspids and molars to help us tear the food to pieces. Most of us aren’t limited to a tongue we’ve yet to master and gums that are only really good at gnawing at a teething ring.

Then there’s the whole taste thing. For the past five-and-a-half months, Finley has maybe experienced 10 or 12 flavors. There’s the regular tongue-in-the-mouth taste and the afore-mentioned two nipple types. There’s the flavor of momma’s milk and the flavor of formula. Throw in a few different types of toys and her personal favorite… her hand… and we’ve pretty much covered it. But none of those tongue teasers were really made for taste. None of them were designed and tested by babies in lab coats to simulate bananas. And let’s not forget the texture of mashed up rice and banana. That’s a new direction, as well. So it’s no surprise that when she experienced her first banana flavoring that it sent a shockwave of reactions to her brain.

The “B” drawer in the little file cabinet in her head opened up and a new index card was dropped in:

Banana: Tart. Mushy. Weird.

Over time, more cards will be dropped in and new notes will appear next to older cards, but it has begun. The enormous world of taste is now open to her. And, like the rest of us, the limit of what tastes good, horrible, sweet, sour, spicy and bitter is limitless. Imagine having your taste memories erased and you have to start all over again. Think about how many millions of tastes you’ve experienced in your lifetime and how many more you’ve yet to try. It’s a bit overwhelming. Now think about starting all that at 22 weeks of age. She has no idea what great and potentially disgusting things are headed her way.

“But what about this chain reaction?” you ask. “What about all of these other events connected to her first solid food?” Fair questions. And ones that have been much on my mind, as of late. The first thing that comes to mind is the combination of all this mushy food and the lack of dexterity in a five-and-a-half month old. In my daddy crystal ball, I see an increase in the amount of child laundry, and if she’s really good, it will correlate to an increased amount of parent laundry. I see the obligatory all-over body wipe at the end of meals and the occasional washing of the child’s hair. This, of course, all depends on how much actually gets into her mouth.

Then there is the inevitable change to the other end of her body. There’s no real delicate way to put it, but my daddy crystal ball is getting cloudy… as in stinky… as in a distinct change in the weight of diapers. Which means a distinct change in the content of the diapers. Yes, solid food in… solid food out.

All of this leads, of course, to the eventual land of potty training and the next thing you know, she’s off to college. Okay, so I’m ahead of myself a bit, but you can see how a spoonful of banana-rice frappe’ will change the world. And that’s okay, really. It just means our little girl is getting bigger. Which means I can teach her the glory of the potato chip, the wonder of peanut butter and the subtle nuance of sushi. But ultimately it means that she will join us for meals and the three of us will get a taste of what it means to be a real family. And that will be my favorite flavor of all.