Just Because It's June

The Merry Month of May is gone. With June came the rains. And ten days short of celebrating his 23rd month on earth, my son decided he had had enough of milk. One day he was drinking his usual 2 cups a day, the next he went on what is now going on a two week milk strike.

The first night he refused his milk, I put it down to being too full after a big dinner. Next morning, I allowed it as well, since he ate plenty of breakfast. As the days went on though, he has shown no signs of wanting to ever drink milk again, despite many failed attempts to trick and coax him into ingesting some. (Chocolate milk? Disgusting. My son would rather eat his own poop. Changing cups? He refused them altogether and only accepted water from a clear glass.) Clearly, I am not wily enough to outsmart a 23 month old.

As all mothers will know, parenting is largely a matter of trial and error. From the time of a child's birth, you try new things, different things. Nappies, (some give them a rash, others have sharp tapes that cut their skin, others don't absorb well enough) teats, in the case of bottle drinkers, and sippy cups, (some spouts are too hard, others too soft, yet others weirdly shaped in a way they don't like) soaps and body washes, (some dry the skin, others cause eczema) laundry detergent, the list goes on and on. When a child begins to eat, they will try every type of mashed, pureed, bottled and fresh fruit, vegetable and food combination. Entire sections of baby books are given over to Baby's Favourites, which automatically implies that the process of selection and elimination for each has been laborious and lengthy.

Going back to my son's milk strike, I'm considering the alternatives. He's rejected 4-6 types of formula in the past, and with age 2 coming up certainly won't need it any more anyway. I could try soy or rice milk, but chances are as long as the liquid is white, he'll reject it anyway. But that won't stop me from buying a number of variants nonetheless.

I have a terrible feeling this is the beginning of the Twos, when most children become more active about asserting their independence. While Little A still won't speak, he no longer allows us to make his digestive decisions for him anymore. A box of rabbit-shaped organic cheese biscuits recently arrived from grandmum, which in the past would usually languish on the table to be finished off by mum and dad, but Little A knows they are his, and now looks for them before, during and after every meal. If we take away the biscuits, he'll refuse to eat the food. For now, he is eating both. Fingers crossed it stays that way. Now maybe if I dipped those cheese rabbits in milk...