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 him-self, 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.