The Apple of My Eye

We have an apple tree in our front yard. A perfect apple tree that produces so many apples each summer that, if we don't pick them every few days, the limbs hang heavy with fruit and occasionally snap under their weight. People think it is a crab-apple tree, but it actually produces small, sweet and sometimes tart green apples.

Because of this tree, Lia has fallen in love with apples. If we walk outside, she points and eagerly grunts at the tree. She walks to the fruit bowl in the kitchen and points up, up, up for apples.

Being the somewhat anal-retentive and overprotective mother that I am, I would have never allowed this to happen. A baby doesn't eat apples. Applesauce, yes. Cooked apples, sure. A whole apple? Dear God. That has choking hazard written all over it.

Thank goodness for daddies. Grady gave Lia her first apple one afternoon to occupy her while he picked hundreds (no exaggeration, they filled an entire trashcan) of apples from the limbs. She quickly learned to bite into the apple and then grate off small shards with her teeth. I was amazed to see her whittle an apple down to its core in mere minutes. It is one of her favorite foods and I am so glad daddies occasionally know better than mommies!!!

I still get looks from all the other anal-rententive, overprotective, alarmist mothers out there. But I don't care. Lia loves her apples!

More pictures of my little apple!