breakfast, lunch and dinner with a side of bubba

They say nothing says I love you than sharing your food with another.

The truth of these words became even more apparent when I became a mum.

There are many remarkable things about being a mum but I have to say; there is nothing more basic and more gratifying than feeding your baby. The simple act of watching your baby take their first drink of milk is amazing. The thought that this little creature is dependant on you, looking at you for their most basic need is a powerful, frightening and humbling feeling. They need you for everything. They need you for love, affection, safety and sustenance.

As many parents can attest, feeding time can become a source of obsession and pain for most mum and dads. We're lucky that our little bub is what they call a 'good eater'. He can eat anything - fruit (cut up bananas and apples are a favourite), vegetables (carrots, peas and even cucumber), the Aussie breakfast staple butter and vegemite on toast and even Filipino party favourite the spring roll. I love it and yes it is a bit of an obsession. I love watching my little toddler's face when he tastes a new food for the first time. He scrunches up his little nose, screws up his face then after a breathless moment from his mum and dad he'll chew, swallow, open his eyes and his mouth and ask for more. And if he really doesn't like it? Well, you won't have to wait too long to find that out as our poor, and now badly stained, carpet can vouch for! Food gets tossed over the high chair, flung on your clothes and rubbed into his own hair. But I guess that's part of the adventure. Some foods are a hit and others, not so much.

I jokingly say to people that as a mum, I haven't had my own plate of food since my son started eating solid foods.

When he first started eating proper food we bought all the accoutrements that go with it - his own little spoon and fork, his own bowls even his own little butter knife (it came with the set - maybe in case he ever wanted to cut up his own steak?!) Regardless, we soon learnt that nothing tastes better to our son than when food comes straight from mummy and daddy's plate. So I did away with the separate little bowl and special little spoons and forks (less washing that way anyway) and my plate became OUR plate. Except for when I'm away at work, every plate of food I have is no longer exclusively mine. Every other spoonful of oats, every crust of bread, every juicy sausage, every piece of cake, every slice of orange - all of it - is shared with a tiny little hand and a tiny little mouth.

Nothing says I love you like sharing food with another. Yep, it's true. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way.