So not cool.
“Don’t worry; he will thin out when he starts crawling”
“Oh it’s ok, chunky babies are cute!”
“Haha! What on earth does your mummy feed you!?!”
In my eyes, Bobby is the cutest f**king thing on this planet…the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. He has a large family…three sets of grandparents, in fact. Has has a total of 10 aunties & uncles combined. And about another 8-10 of our best friends that we refer to as his ‘aunties & uncles’. All of these people mentioned above, and only these, can refer to Bobby as ‘fat’.
Bobby was a big baby. He was born at 8lb 5oz (3.8kg) at 38 weeks. Quite a decent size for a baby that came 2 weeks early. It was always a given, Jaryd & I are not small, and certainly weren’t small babies either. Jaryd is a professional athlete, and I’m nearly 6 foot tall & a size 12. We have every ingredient under the sun required to make a big baby. Bobby loves to eat. There’s no hiding that. Jaryd’s a wog, and I still maintain the nickname ‘Seagull’ from when I was 2 as I would eat everyone’s leftovers off of their plates. So, we can obviously both eat. Again, if we had have had a small baby, something must have been wrong.
Bobby was breastfed until nearly five months old. Yes he was supplemented with one formula bottle from birth, but his first few months of growth came from mummy’s good titty milk. He thrived. You know those stupid f**king baby books that say ‘babies will feed for 20 minutes on one side, and then 15 on the other each feed’ or some crap?
The reason I didn’t sleep for the first few weeks was because I had a newborn who would go an hour, an hour & a half, on each boob. And solidly! Where the hell all that milk went…I’m not sure. Especially when each individual breast was bigger than his entire head BEFORE my milk came in. So I can’t begin to imagine how much milk he was taking in when he emptied each side.
The boy has always been a trooper when it comes to eating, so when it came time to introduce solids (which I did at 4.5 months because he was hungry) absolutely nothing fazed him. I didn’t think a baby could grasp the concept of opening his mouth, using his tongue and swallowing as quickly as Bobby did. But again, I reiterate, Jaryd & I were never going to produce a fussy eater. Approaching 7 months old (holy shit balls I have a 7 month old soon!!!) I am yet to come across something that Bobby doesn’t like. We have tried him on almost everything (almost… so don’t panic and tell me I shouldn’t be feeding him this, shouldn’t be feeding him that) He loves all fruit & veg – whole and pureed, porridge, toast, pasta, rice, meats…he even ate half of my piece of salmon the other day, and the next night my mum’s risotto. I couldn’t be prouder of the eater I am producing, and I know his Daddy and his Maltese grandfather are exactly the same!
I guess what I’m trying to say here with all of this is that I feel like I almost have to justify myself as to why we have such a big baby? When I shouldn’t? Just like a mother shouldn’t have to feel the need to justify or try to explain why their baby is on the smaller side… like you would starve your own child?
Yes, Bobby is huge! We are well aware of that! We recently took a photo of him on the couch with his 18-month-old cousin and Bobby is officially bigger! Not ‘fatter’ – bigger. As in his entire body is on a larger scale than Jack’s, his cousin.
I do some serious pelvic floor tensing when I lift Bobby, I can assure you of that. We know he’s big when we go to buy him floaties that are ‘Up to 12months old’ and we go ‘great!’ until we read the ‘Up to 11kg’ and I worry if he’s too heavy for something that’s suppose to be appropriate for a one year old.