October 3, 1973

Dear Diary,

Today, we entered a new frontier: solid food! That’s right, we decided it was time for Sarah to try her first taste of baby food. I can’t tell you how excited I was—until I realized that feeding a baby is like trying to teach a cat to swim.

Helen and I spent the morning shopping for baby food. We found ourselves in the baby aisle, staring at rows and rows of colorful jars. Who knew there were so many flavors? Apple, banana, sweet potato, peas… I was half-expecting to find something like “gourmet five-cheese blend” for the little food critic!

We finally settled on a jar of sweet potatoes. I was ready to be the “cool dad” who introduced his daughter to the wonders of solid food. With the jar opened and a spoon in hand, I was feeling confident. “How hard can it be?” I thought.

I plopped Sarah in her high chair, and she looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes. I carefully scooped a spoonful of the mushy orange substance and brought it to her mouth. Instead of the cute, “Mmm, this is delicious!” response I expected, she made a face like I’d just fed her a shoe!

I thought, “Okay, maybe she just needs time.” I bravely tried again. This time, she turned her head like I was trying to offer her broccoli-flavored ice cream. She pursed her lips and let out a little squeal that made me feel like I was trying to serve her a plate of sadness.

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After a few more attempts, it became clear that Sarah was not a fan of sweet potatoes. In fact, she seemed to be staging a protest. I found myself covered in orange mush while she looked as if she were deciding whether to laugh or cry. It was like a battle of wills, and let me tell you, she’s winning!

Not one to give up easily, I thought I’d try some fun tactics. I made silly airplane noises and pretended the spoon was a spaceship zooming through the air. “Here comes the airplane, Sarah! Open up for the sweet potato jet!” To my surprise, she giggled, but that didn’t change her disdain for the food.

In a last-ditch effort, I brought in the big guns: Helen. I knew she had a special touch with our little girl. As she took over, it was like a magic show! Helen could get Sarah to open her mouth like a tiny, hungry bird. I watched in awe as she coaxed her with words of encouragement and a gentle smile.

When Helen managed to get a spoonful into Sarah’s mouth, I thought I was witnessing a miracle! But then, Sarah made a face that looked like she’d just bitten into a lemon. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, which caused Sarah to join in, and before we knew it, we were all in stitches over the ridiculousness of it all.

We ended up resorting to the “let’s smear the food all over the high chair” method, which turned into a colorful art project rather than a meal. There were orange fingerprints everywhere! It looked like a baby Picasso had gone wild.

By the end of the day, we were exhausted and covered in sweet potato mush, but we couldn’t stop laughing. The feeding frenzy may not have gone as planned, but it turned into one of those moments I’ll cherish forever. I realized that while the process of introducing solid foods can be chaotic, it’s also filled with love, laughter, and a little bit of chaos—just like everything else in parenthood.

As we cleaned up the mess, I couldn’t help but smile. I might not have mastered the art of baby food just yet, but I’m learning. And hey, if nothing else, I can definitely say we ha

d one heck of a time trying!