So after all of that, this happened.
In part, I caved because Ez suddenly seemed ravenously, inexplicably hungry all the time and seriously tried to throw himself headfirst into Noah's plate of macaroni and cheese. It was also because there wasn't anything good on TV that night.
After the initial WHAT THE EFF? reaction, I must report that Ezra seriously loves oatmeal. Loves it. Two bites in and he had the whole spoon thing down and two nights in he knew when it was cereal time and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN, WHERE IS MY CEREAL? He's also skipped his 2 am feeding three nights in a row, although this morning we had our first real solid-food-poop diaper and oh. Man. I'd TOTALLY blocked that part out.
(He still loves the boobs, of course. This morning I had a dream where I kept trying to readjust my bra over and over again because it was stuck to me, like a suction cup, and I couldn't figure out what was going on until I woke up and realized that Ezra had somehow scooted up to me and latched on. He was also sound asleep. Take that, spoon! I am still totally his favorite.)
Speaking of Signs That I Am A Little Senile, after our first cereal feeding I gazed upon his messy, sticky, drooly, crusty outfit and thought, hmmm, what we really need here is some kind of protective space-age coverage device that would prevent some of that mess! What a fantastic, magical invention that would be!
Then I remembered that it's called a bib, you fucking jackass. The end.