Thursday, February 22, 2007
When I was first trying to wean Max off of breast milk, we started offering him cow's milk, in the hopes that it would take the place, both nutritionally and spiritually, that Mama milk had once held in his heart. This was a spectacular failure. Max would accept a cup of milk, take a swig, spit it out, and then look at us indignantly over his milk-spattered chin, as if to ask us why we were trying to poison him. I was beginning to get worried that Max would never embrace the world of non-mother-based dairy. And then, one day, for no reason that any of us can determine, Max's attitude toward milk did a complete 180 degree turn. Not only will he drink milk when offered, but he will demand milk if it is not offered. He has been known to go through a half-gallon a day, and I am absolutely not exaggerating. If allowed, he would abandon all other foods in favor of it's creamy goodness. Here he is, fresh from savoring a sippy cup full of the stuff, sporting a delightfully whimsical milk moustache and goatee. Who wants to give him the first kiss?
Posted by Chelsa at 2:07 PM