Thursday, June 18, 2009
Because I'm getting a little nervous. J is 18 months old and loves his bottle. When I say "love," I mean I'm sitting here looking at him right now standing next to me, with his bottle hanging halfway out of his mouth like it's a huge rubber cigarette. Oh, wait, here he goes...straight to the head. (That's when he cocks his head backwards and chugs from the nipple like he's just finished biking 10 miles and is electrolyte-loading with a refreshing bottle of Gatorade.)
Pre-J, I clearly remember seeing toddlers cruising around town drinking from a (gasp!) bottle. I remember thinking, "Christ. That poor kid. Just look at him. What respectable 2-year-old does THAT." Then, I'd look up and see the kid's mom and think, "How could you let him just run around like that? Just look at him. And his teeth are probably rotting as we speak."
Glass houses. Yes, I know. Glass houses.
There really wasn't any weaning to be done with my oldest. M just up and decided her bottle was yesterday's news when she was about 11 months old. One day it was "in" and the next it was just SO Spring 2005. Still, I took most, if not all, of the credit for her smooth and easy transition. There I was all high and mighty wondering why in the heck any parent would CHOOSE to keep his/her kid on the bottle. Now I know.
If your kid gets stuck on the bottle, I have one piece of advice -- Watch. Your. Back. You might find yourself dodging flying sippy cups, flung from the tyrannical hands of a 1 1/2-year-old. I have faced such attacks.
"How dare you? What kind of fool do you take me for? You think you can hand me that spout-shaped piece of shit and I'm actually going to drink from it?"
Then the screaming starts. The sound shatters my steadfast No-Bottle stance, and I am left desperate and fumbling. I tear through the cabinet looking for a bottle. Shit! Where is our one bottle? (We only have one because I keep telling myself he's going to be weaned soon. Idiot.) I find a nipple. "Here! here!" I stick the rubber nipple in his mouth to tide him over. He holds it in his mouth for a moment and then furrows his brow. Oh no. The nipple comes flying at me like a torpedo. I duck. My life flashes before my eyes.
Oh thank GOD. Here's the bottle. He lets out another shriek and I spill milk on the counter. I screw the top on and rush over to his seat.
"Here ma' lord! Your bottle master! Forgive my transgressions!" I bow. He drinks.
I sit down next to him, defeated. Another battle with the bottle lost. Well, at least I was able to subdue and defeat the Pukeness Monster... That's got to count for something.
Posted by Rosana V. at 1:52 PM