Baby Shit Product Review: Spoons
Hank hasn’t demonstrated a ton of interest in solid food. He shows all the general readiness signs (he’s a champ at sitting up, he leans in and opens up for another spoonful, he leans back or turns his face away if he’s “done”). The biggest “hit” of all has been peaches, but they weren’t quite in season so were awfully tart, and though he came back for more he made the most hilarious sour face every time he tasted them. And after a particularly large or tart bite he would make the face and sigh/cough in the way one does after, say, a shot or sizable sip of a very stiff drink. It’s hard to say whether he “liked” the peaches or he was just compulsively curious. Overall, he’s generally unimpressed with the tastes of real food, and seldom does he take more than a few bites of anything.
But he seems to really enjoy the accoutrements of eating. Though annoyed by bibs (and “annoyed” might be an understatement–he is compelled to tear at it in the manner of a pet in a halloween costume), he cackles with delight when I put him in the high chair, and thinks the colorful plastic bowls I bought are the best toys ever (WHEN WILL WE LEARN?! if it’s not meant to be a toy, we should choose a design as bland and uninteresting as possible). For now I’ve switched to using some boring looking plastic teacups as bowls, holding onto the more flashy dishware for the days when they will help encourage eating rather than distract from it.
He is most fascinated by the spoon. We’ve tried a couple different baby spoons. We have some handed-down Nuby spoons, which are…eh, okay. I’m not a fan of the slim oval shape and they are too way too deep. Maybe they would work well for an older baby, who has some more spoon experience, or a very small baby, whose “solid” food is very, very runny. Otherwise it’s kind of impossible to get the food from the deep divot in the round spoon actually INTO his mouth. In a moment of “I’m-so-excited-to-feed-my-baby!” fervor I bought some Munchkin brand spoons that are very similar to the Nuby, with slightly rounded heads and in better, brighter colors. But the basin is again too deep; it’s quite hard for the food to slide into his mouth without holding it at a crazy angle.
The absolute best spoon in the world (and I can say this, because including this masterpiece-of-a-baby-spoon I have tried THREE WHOLE DESIGNS) is the semi-disposable, promotional spoon for Stonyfield Farm’s “Yo-Baby” yogurt line that I got for free in the mail, in some “scramble for the new mother’s money” promo pack of random baby lotions and such. The spoon is like a little shovel–shallow basin, with a square shape. IT IS AWESOME. I don’t have to use such a sharp angle or “scrape” the food into his mouth quite as much via his gums or upper lip. It’s easy to vary the amount on the spoon and it’s so light. Now, I wasn’t struggling under the onerous weight of the other soft plastic baby spoons, BUT their handles were often heavier than their tips, which would result in catapulted baby puree if you set the spoon down in a bowl. And mealtime is messy enough.
Super extra crunchiness bonus: the spoon is made from recycled yogurt cups.
Stonyfield’s website says you can buy these from their giftshop at 10 for $1. But when selected, the price is $3, without indicating if that is for 10 or for 30 spoons. I don’t really think I need 30 (to be honest I don’t even know if I need 10). And then shipping is $4. So whether for 10 or 30 spoons, I’d be out $7.
When it comes to baby shit, parents will often tell you that if the item works, meaning it occupies the child for more than one minute, if it makes sleeping, feeding, dressing, changing, what-have-you, even marginally easier, it’s worth whatever it costs. The industry has responded to our asking very little of our products, our desperation for even the smallest of results, our general gullibility (a sense that we “need” each and every gadget) and our desire to have “the best” for our children, by severely inflating those costs.
All of which is to say I’m actually considering spending $7 on perhaps 10, perhaps 30, cheap plastic spoons just because I’ve had marginal success with one.
And this review’s purpose, as a whole, is less to discourage you from buying Nuby or Munchkin spoons or to hope you hit the jackpot like me and get your own Yo-Baby spoon in the mail someday, but just to comment on the long over-discussed cliché of baby related purchases: the free, unimpressive looking, or intended for some other purpose item is always the baby’s favorite, and no matter what you buy you will generally get screwed. But, even when you recognize this principle, you will pay out the ass for things again and again. All because you didn’t use adequate birth control.
