Proud Mummy

My baby boy is six months old today. He has two teeth and is almost crawling. He gets himself into the crawling position, moves his knees forward but then he can't figure out how to move his hands without flopping down onto his tummy again. So he wriggles along the floor like a caterpillar, moving his tummy up and down.

One thing that makes me very proud is the fact that, apart from the odd piece of carrot and broccoli in the last few days, I have provided all his nourishment with my own body. For nine months I nourished him inside my womb, and for the past six months I have fed him exclusively on my own milk. And he is so obviously thriving on it.

For me, the logical extension of breastfeeding on demand, is baby-led weaning. Up to now my son has decided how much milk he needs, and now that he is six months old and can sit up unaided, he is able to reach out and pick up a carrot stick or a broccoli floret from my plate, put it in his mouth, chew it and swallow it. (I know he has swallowed some because I have found the evidence in his nappy). So instead of spoon-feeding him with unapetising mush he can now eat most of what the whole family eats. He will decide how much to eat, and if he just wants to squash it between his fingers and throw it on the floor that's OK because most of his nutrients will still come from my milk for a good few months to come.