Sometimes, this whole “being a parent” thing hits you, and it’s usually at times you wouldn’t expect. My latest wave of realisation came one evening last week. I was chilling on the couch, Little Mister sat on my knee, watching a re-run of Dance Moms, whilst he was munching away on some blueberry tapioca crackers (as an aside, although the packaging says “mess free”, I have a purple crusted pair of joggers that would beg to differ). I couldn’t stop watching him, feeding himself, when it only felt such a short time ago we were decorating the nursery and picking out bottles. And he looked so content, cracker in hand, smiling away at Abby Lee Miller whilst she passive-aggressively crushed the dreams of some child. Then he blew a raspberry with a mouthful of cracker everywhere and kind of bust me out of the moment. I think it’s the finger foods that are making it hit home, that Little Mister is starting those first steps to feeding independence in what feels like no time at all.