Last week we started feeding the Muffin Man some whole grain cereal. I was planing to skip the cereal stage and just introduce veggies at six months, but the kiddo was hungry all the time, so I figured some cereal would buy me at least an hour of him not being attached to my boob. It started out successfully enough; Noah seemed to like the taste and he didn't have trouble eating off of the spoon or swallowing. In typical Anna fashion of trying to do too much at once, I decided that he should have cereal twice a day since the initial feeding was such a success. So I gave Noah a bowl of cereal at dinner time, which he ate with relish. Feeling extra proud of myself for entering this new stage of Noah's development without incident, I looked forward to a full night of sleep thanks to a well-fed baby. What I didn't take into account is that baby cereal works like super glue in the intestines. The poor kiddo got so constipated that not only did he not sleep through the night, but he was up every hour wailing and grunting, trying to poop. When he finally did manage to expel the cereal from his system some 14 hours later it was the poop explosion of the century; it blew through his diaper, two layers of clothes, and left him covered in poop from neck to toes. I contemplated taking Noah outside and hosing him down with the garden hose (it was a warm afternoon), but I opted for taking him in the bathtub with me instead. Hey, the poor kid worked so hard to get that cereal out of his system, he deserved a bubble bath. Needless to say, I'm no longer dishing up large bowls of baby cereal for dinner. Here's hoping tonight's avocado main course goes down (and comes out) more easily.
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