Milestones ...

Babies, by virtue of their short but spectacularly significant time on this earth, rack up "events" faster than a Grateful Dead groupie. And most of them, again by virtue of the baby's general existence, are pretty definitive in nature. There's nice ones like "first smile" and "first giggle" and "first recognises own name" ... and then there's the less celebrated, like "first tooth" and "first experiment with taste of snot". The point being, that each of them is a bit of a point-of-no-return experience, with expectations set, markers laid and returns barred.

This week, Livvy, Ticki and I reached what may be the biggest of these markers along Childhood Way - the first proper meal. Well, when I say proper meal, I use the fact that it involved a spoon and a bowl, even if they were dayglo pink and purple respectively. The "food" in question did little to distinguish this as a meal - we'd been talking about "baby rice" for a while and perhaps it was my naivety, but I was expecting something akin to rice pudding. What we actually ended up feeding Livvy was more akin to wallpaper paste. But it's all good, I suppose. As long as we don't ever accidentally feed her actual wallpaper paste as a result of this apparently common misconception about the first meal a baby should be exposed to. Mind you, given the frequency with which I submit myself to the experience of wallpapering I think we can safely assume that the next time Livvy finds herself offered a spoonful of wallpaper paste she will be able to make the decision about whether or not to eat it herself - she will be about 23 years old by then, after all.

"Rice", you say? Not sure Mummy, but I like that pretty "spoon" thingy

And here it is - her first ever feed, documented blog-style. We actually played out this "event" sitting on a mossy log in a wooded glen near the pretty village of Bispham in Lancashire, where we had gone with Owen and Lucy (and Holly and Spike) for a walk. Don't tell Gina Ford, she'll haunt our dreams. Or something. So, Livvy's up and running with both eating off an implement and al fresco dining - who says rural Lancashire is not a part of the world given to sophistication?

All systems go

Another occasion with far-reaching consequences is the day (some two weeks ago now) when Livvy finally cracked the process of rolling over onto her stomach. This, it is commonly agreed, is the first step toward crawling, which, of course, itself signals a profound change in everyone's lives. Not necessarily Livvy's (although the range of things to put into her mouth will increase) but certainly her parents'. Rest will be a thing of the past once she's worked out forward propulsion.