The über-mothers from F.’s Pekip group are all about baby-led weaning at the moment. And some friends of ours are also saying shouldn’t he finally be getting more than just the same old stuff. My life is full of recommendations of fish nuggets and semolina hearts and sympathetic looks at F. for having to eat mashed food.
I don’t get the whole low-carb trend. In my humble opinion, any diet works by the energy intake being smaller than the energy consumption. However, so many people swear by low carb that there must be something to it? Continue reading
It’s twenty to ten, F. has just fallen asleep, I haven’t seen C. since he left for work this morning, so I’m too tired to write very much about my lovely “first”.
One of the traits most members of my father’s family have in common is the quite distinctive eyebrows. And when I say distinctive, I basically mean bushy. In fact, I had a rather strange compliment paid to me because of them when I was younger. Continue reading
For me, the be all and end all of bottled lemonades is the lemonade sold in Crete – and other parts of Greece, I presume. It’s just so fresh, not too sweet but not really sour either, the right amount of sparkle and just generally perfect.
F. has grown up so much in the last few days that today I decided the time had come to start treating him like a big boy.
My auntie and I went on a long walk through Giesing, one of my favourite parts of Munich, today. We just turned corners and discovered places we’d never been before. There was no plan or ultimate destination – apart from finding somewhere we could have a good cup of coffee.
All the semolina pudding I’ve been making for F. lately has made me a) secretly jealous of his dinner sometimes and b) remember something I hadn’t eaten since my childhood.