A few months ago, I called Mr. T out for his unwillingness to share.

Now, I’m feeling a little like a hypocrite.

When Baby Bird would reach for my pancakes, I was more than willing to share. When she went for my yogurt, my spoon became hers.

When she went for my peanut butter and jelly, I had to put my foot down.

My obsession with PB&J began when I was pregnant. Most foods, besides burgerless cheeseburgers, made me feel ill, but not PB&J. It was a vital part of my diet. I craved it all day, every day. I still do.

In fact, it’s what I eat for breakfast — and sometimes lunch — most days.

Baby Bird has taken notice, and now she wants in.

Initially, I was fine with sharing. I’d give her a tiny piece or two, and she’d be sated. Now, as she and her appetite have grown, the tiny piece or two has become nearly half my sandwich.

I can’t live like this. (There’s also my concern about her having the sugary jelly, but I digress.)

So I’ve come up with a solution I think we can both live with: I’ll make her her own sandwiches using baby food “jelly.”

What in the world is baby food jelly? I’m glad you asked.

This is baby food jelly:

It’s made with three ingredients, there’s no added sugar, it’s another way for me to use up my cache of Stage 2 baby foods — and Baby Bird approves. (You can find my other baby food recipes here and here.)

Baby Bird can have everything else I own. But my PB&J is MY PB&J.

[amd-yrecipe-recipe:5]