Battle Over Bottle

Penny has never been a big eater. Food does not hold her interest, and at daycare she has refused such things as angel food cake with strawberries, mashed potatoes, and even a cupcake during a classmate’s birthday party.

There was a month or so last winter when after a couple of colds and the flu, mom and dad got a bit concerned when Penny’s weight dropped and then plateaued. So it’s understandable that our worry over her calorie intake, coupled with our desire for sleep, led us to giving her a regular bottle before bed time.

This isn’t unusual, of course, but this summer mom and dad made a crucial and conscious error. When transitioning Penny from the bottle to sippy cup, we didn’t take away the bedtime bottle. And after a pretty painless switch, we were feeling good about our success.

Good until about a week ago at a 15-month well-care visit when our pediatrician asked about Penny’s bedtime routine. Well then, POW, there it was; that lingering doubt, or was it a pang of guilt, that our decision was not-so-wise. Not only was the pediatrician unimpressed with our ability to transition our daughter to a cup, but we were strongly encouraged to forgo the bottle altogether. So we have begun the painful transition; battling over the bottle. It’s not going to be easy, and the only solace we’ve found is the hope that it wasn’t easy for our pediatrician either.

Help assuage our guilt over our rookie mistake!

At what age did your kids finally ditch the bottle?
	One year
	18 months; I feel your pain.
	Two years; We just couldnt do it!
	Five years; I find a bottle still soothes and comforts me.
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Poker Face

Penny’s personality is really starting to show in a big way. The problem for us is that she’s really funny. Not intentionally funny, but funny in the way she goes about things, the faces she makes, and her general demeanor.

That means that the hardest part about being her parent at the moment is keeping a straight face – we can’t laugh at her shenanigans, like when she gets tired of trying to feed herself the yogurt with a spoon so just starts grabbing handfuls, putting some in her mouth, but using the majority as hair mousse.

So what’s a new parent to do when their child sits on the floor playing with her belly like some sort of neo-Buddha meets Pilsbury Doughboy, poking herself in the tummy and giggling? Worse is when she’s doing something wrong, but in such a way that it makes you want to laugh, like chasing the dog around, crying “na-na,” her version of Newman, while the dog himself slinks from place to place, trying to find a bit of peace.

The fact seems to be that kids are just funny, probably because they do the things we wish we could still do. We want to laugh because they don’t care if they look silly. For now, our tactic is to alternate – one of us presents the poker face while the other turns and snickers. Count to ten…and switch. Maybe we should just give up and laugh out loud. After all, what’s not funny about a creamed spinach mustache?