alexist

Progress continues on the food front. Aliza now happily munches most of what we give her. So far I don't think any food has been outright rejected, but she doesn't like too many things mixed together. She'll eat them separately in the same sitting, but if you mix up the chicken and veg and pasta in one bowl, no dice.

She gets everything off our plates as long as it doesn't have sugar or salt in it, so she's gotten a fair bit of variety and seasoning. Anything with garlic gets chomped down. (With my diet, she probably had garlic flavoured placenta.) I also do extra fruit & veggies for her, so she gets some that I don't make for our meals (usually these are things one of us like but not the other). The spinach in mashed potato idea has worked very well--she gobbles it. It's most satisfying, though, when she gobbles something that I or Neil really likes--like when she had chicken soup with knaidlach. (well, part of a knaidel)

Aliza's also finally getting the idea that you can pick food up and put it in your mouth. The other day I got a packet of baby biscuits (ack sugar, but I couldn't find any that were unsweetened--fruit juice concentrate is no better than cane sugar) and she ate most of one herself.

Most impressive messes: Pasta with tomato sauce, Weetabix.

I'm always gobsmacked at these plastic surgery addicts. The thing is, once you get into it like that, you're never perfect. You can always find some new flaw (the surgeon's receptionist is a prime example--and her breasts look so fake!)

The surgeon who did all of Steve Erhardt's work worries me. A responsible surgeon will actually refuse to do work on a patient like that.

And the advice of that "image consultant"... argh!! I would never, ever get plastic surgery just because someone else thought I would look better. I have to say that if I ever got thin (ha ha and ha) I would be tempted to get a tummy tuck once I was done having kids, but that's only because I've got C-section flap. Even then, I'm not sure.

The rest of it? I'll live with what G-d gave me. Nothing's so bad that I can't deal with it. (Aside from my bust, but I refuse to touch that on principle unless it's reconstructive.)

You know something funny? My sister had her nose done after she graduated from college. It really bugged her. But I don't even really notice it, maybe because I know her so well. It was a good job; the surgeon just smoothed it down a bit. I suppose if it makes her happy it was worth it, but it seems so insignificant.