I've Created An Addict

Nothing quite like having someone else watch your children for awhile to help shed light on all the things you're doing wrong. Deep....deep....deep down, I knew I wasn't the stellar mom I once considered myself to be. I've attributed this much, much laxer parenting style to being older and wiser, on Henry's special speech needs, on our moves, on his size, and pretty much anything I can but when my mom pointed out Henry's abundant milk consumption while she was here, the spirit of good parenting whispered to me that it was true.

Henry has always had milk issues. He had a tongue tie at birth with which created some nursing problems. Then he was in the NICU for so long that he had nipple confusion. Then I got impatient with his on/off/on style of nursing and switched to exclusive bottle feeding. Then we switched from regular formula to the ultra expensive alimentum formula and eventually to soy formula because he had a milk intolerance. Then he wouldn't drink regular milk so we bought pediasure followed by very vanilla soymilk (he turned his nose up at regular vanilla soymilk).

By this time, I had come to the conclusion that his milk sensitivity was no longer an issue and it was simply a taste preference. I spent several days filling his sippy cups with regular whole milk and he wouldn't drink them. Frustrated, I added chocolate syrup to it. Bingo.

Henry loves, loves, loves his chocolate milk. Instead of syrup, I add a scoop of Ovaltine to his milk, which at least adds some vitamins to it. I try every now and then giving him a cup without chocolate added but there is no fooling his sensitive taste buds.

I have been aware for as long as I've been Henry's mother that he isn't a good eater. Again, I seem to be able to point my finger in any direction by my own. He missed his oral/motor development phase. He doesn't seem to have a good tactile sensor as to when his mouth is full and thus puts too much food in only to spit it all out when he can't swallow. He's picky.

All those things may be true, but, as my mother pointed out, another very likely reason he doesn't eat very well is because he drinks too much milk which is probably spoiling his appetite. A-ha!

As soon as she said it, I knew it to be true. As soon as he wakes up, I give him a sippy cup. Before I take the boys to school, I give him another. When he starts to whine and fret during the morning, I offer him food. He refuses. I give him milk. Whining gone. That pattern follows pretty much throughout the day.

For the last couple of weeks, I have made a concerted effort to limit his milk intake to three sippy cups a day or about 24 oz. Life with Henry is no longer easy. Oh wait...it never was. But, amazingly enough, it's now even harder.

Take this morning for example. I hear his cries at 5:45 am. I ignore them for all of 5 minutes but experience has taught me that my will is NO match for Henry's and he will not fall back asleep. I roll out of bed, walk down the hall to his room and open the door to greet a cranky Henry sitting up in his crib.

I pick him and his B up and carry them both to the living room. As I pass the kitchen and refrigerator, he knows his formerly guaranteed cup of cold chocolate is not coming. Cranky Henry turns into Angry Henry. He cries and he cries waking up both Seth and Sam. I rock and sing but now I've got all three boys awake, near me and wanting things and it's not even 6:00. I resent the situation. I want to give Henry milk. I know if I give him milk, those cries will stop and I can handle being their mother again. But I know if I give him milk, he won't have breakfast and the whole cycle of not eating at meal time will begin again.

I withhold the milk and sit and sooth Henry until 6:45. He's not crying constantly but he's not happy. It's time for the business of morning to begin and as I put him on the couch with his brothers so that I can go to the kitchen and get breakfast started, the crying begins once more. It's that whiny, not quite constant, low, needy cry that frustrates me. Why can't I just block it out? I used to be tough! I used to be the leader! Why have I let Henry take over? I am in charge....right?

Henry's mood rubs off onto everyone. His brothers are cranky which makes me cranky. I dish everyone a bowl of hot cereal, including Henry, which he angrily pushes away. I tell him that it's his breakfast and he needs to eat it. He doesn't. He just cries and cries and cries. And cries.

At 7:30, Jay takes Seth and Sam to school (normally this is my job but Jay just happened to be heading that way this morning) and I pick Henry up to see if I can feed him his cereal. No luck.

I'd offer him toast or cheerios or grapes or eggs or a smoothie but I know from experience that it's not about what's on the table. It's ALL about what's in the cup.

By 8:00, he still hasn't eaten and I'm tired of him and need him to be happy. Or at least quiet.

I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator.

I pull out a gallon of milk.

Henry stops crying and looks at me.

I go to the cupboard and pull out a sippy cup.

He smiles.

I fill up a cup with white milk.

He goes to the pantry for the Ovaltine.

He happily says, "Chokate, ma?"

I scoop and screw the lid on.

Henry wins.

I lose.

Every time.




I used to tell people I'd train their children to sleep. I had complete confidence in that part of parenting. I realize all of my flaws as I write this. Like the moms who told me, "I just can't listen to him cry," I hear those words now coming from my own mouth. I'm sure I've been inconsistent and am totally to blame for Henry's need for milk, but I also know that he has more determination, will and stamina to get what he wants than I do.




I'm already dreading tomorrow morning.

Any bright ideas about how to handle our mornings?