Goodbye, Nighttime Bottle!

That’s a little over-dramatic…as our girls haven’t actually had a bottle since they were 15 or 16 months old…but we have been holding on to their nighttime milk routine until just recently.

When the girls were infants, countless people told us to “stuff them full” before we put them to bed for the night, to get them to sleep as long as possible. Of course there’s only so much “stuffing” you want to risk with the wee ones, but I appreciated the concept.

Once the girls were a few months old, we had worked up to a rather sizeable bottle of milk, particularly before bedtime. We were blessed with really good sleepers, but the idea of them staying full overnight still made sense to me, and that seemed like a bit of insurance, at least psychologically.

We proceeded in similar fashion until the girls were 18 or 20 months old, and we started to have MAJOR issues with leaky diapers. I tentatively cut back their 12-ounce sippy cups to six or eight ounces. That didn’t directly solve our diaper issues, but I learned that my almost-two-year olds didn’t wake up from hunger, either.

Fast-forward to Round 1 of potty training, when the girls were about 27 months old. Baby A was waking up at the CRACK of DAWN to use the potty.

At that point, I further reduced our end-of-day cups of milk, to about four ounces.

A quick poll of my mommy friends revealed that most had long ago abandoned a nighttime milk routine…but this mama just wasn’t quite ready.

I loved the idea of one last snuggle with our baby girls, just before bed…the same sweet snuggles we’d been enjoying since Day 1. The girls seemed attached to the routine, too.

A couple of weeks ago, though, one of the girls asked for milk with supper (as opposed to water). On a whim, I told her she could have milk at supper, but then she wouldn’t have any before bed.

Both girls agreed. They drank a big cup of milk (I felt safe giving them more than their four-ounce allotment), and there was no fussing before bed.

For the next couple of nights, I gave the girls the option of milk at supper or before bed, and they continued to choose supper. We’ve officially decided that’s our new M.O.

And while I do miss those extra snuggles, it gives us a little more time to “snuggle proper” over our bedtime story.

And – it may be a coincidence – but the girls are more consistently sleeping until 6:30 in the mornings…and I think that makes us all feel more snuggly.

History Repeats Itself

I’ve heard all my life that girls turn into their mothers. Sometimes that’s said with nostalgia, and sometimes it’s shrieked in a Facebook status, followed by “Aaaaaaagh!”

I’ve had a couple of funny realizations myself over the past few weeks, things that just sneaked up on me…some causing me to shake my head, and others just making me laugh, understanding first hand that I must have caused my mama some headaches now and then.

When our girls were infants, I agonized over every ounce of milk they drank. Since they started eating big people food, though, I’ve taken a more laissez-faire approach…they’ll eat when they’re hungry, and they’ll drink when their thirsty. It will all even out, as long as I offer them a variety of healthy choices.

Baby B has started drinking very little milk in the mornings. She warms up later in the day, but there are times when I don’t think she has even one sip with breakfast. I found myself directing her, “Drink your milk, Sweetie!” “You’ve gotta start the day with some milk!” And I was instantly transported back to being a three-year old myself, my mom directing, pleading, bargaining with me to drink milk.

Gasp! Stop it, Mandy…lest Baby B develops the same psychological (?) disdain for milk that I had growing up!

I gasped similarly when I was putting undershirts on the girls a few days ago. I HATED wearing undershirts when I was a kid. I remember asking to wear a certain shirt, and my mom would say yes, but I had to wear an undershirt.

“But nobody else wears undershirts!” I’d rebut. I remember thinking how dowdy they seemed…slightly gauzy with this scratchy lace trim…ick!

Note to self: Don’t make a big deal of undershirts. Play up the layered look if you have to. And maybe forego the lace trim.

And then I just had to laugh when I realized I’d been whispering a certain sweet nothing in the girls’ ears ahead of nap time. As I try to set the mood for the girls to “Lie down, close your eyes, relax, and go to sleep,” I recently added, “You need your rest to grow up big and strong.”

My mom really dangled that carrot far above my short, stubby legs, telling me I’d grow up tall if I slept well. As a ~four-year old, I remember telling her I thought I was getting really tall, since I’d been sleeping so well. HA!

(Either I didn’t rest as well as I thought I did, or my mom was stretching the truth…I somehow ended up only 5’2”.)

These are certainly not the only times I’ve hearkened back to my upbringing, and I’m sure they won’t be the last. I guess it’s part of the circle of life, so to speak.

I’ll do my best to learn from those before me…and hope I won't have to do too much "paying for my raising".

Lightening My Load

No single task makes me feel more like the Greek Sisyphus – working all day to roll my boulder up the hill, only to have it roll back down, forcing me to start over each day – than loading and unloading the dishwasher.

The cycle is never-ending.

I usually run the dishwasher overnight, full to its absolute brim (with the occasional dish or two left in the sink that I just couldn’t manage to engineer to fit). Greeting me each morning is that scorching red light: “Sanitized”.

I dry off the plastic ware, unload the dishes, and put them away, my goal always being to do that before I start dirtying more dishes to take their place (i.e. making breakfast).

I run the dishwasher every.single.day., occasionally twice a day if I do a lot of cooking. From time to time I’ll switch things up on myself, just for fun.

How about if I run the dishwasher during naptime? I’ll unload it before supper, and then that horrid red light won’t greet me in the morning? What a great idea!!!

But I usually don’t get the dishes unloaded before dinner. It’s usually after the girls go to bed that I face the drying-unloading-putting away, followed by the big stack of dirty dishes from supper waiting on me in the sink. Suddenly that didn’t seem like such a good idea after all…

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are no tricks. This is most certainly my fate for eternity.

...but…

Over the last week or so, I’ve noticed a definitive lightening of my load – my dishwasher load, that is.

I can trace this beautiful gift of the dish gods to two factors.

1) The girls have started drinking all but their evening milk (which they have upstairs) from plain cups with disposable drinking straws. Each cup consists of only two pieces – the cup and the lid. There aren’t five itty bitty parts that must be contained in a special little basket that consumes 1/3 of my top dishwasher rack.

2) I’ve stopped heating all but the girls’ evening milk. I know…I know…they’re almost seven years old and I probably should have stopped this a long time ago…but I just never want to mess with a good thing. The girls seem to love ice cold milk, though, and I sure love not having all those extra cups I used to warm their milk in the microwave.

So…

…I am still running the dishwasher every day…loading, unloading, putting away...but it’s much less of an engineering feat to make everything fit.

I dare say there’s sometimes additional room in the dishwasher, such that I could make it a day and a quarter before I ran it…

...but then I wouldn’t be greeted by freshly sanitized dishes every.single.morning…

…and on some level I guess I like having a “clean start” to the day.

Mixed Drinks

Because we had to supplement the girls’ diet with formula from Day 1, there was no “transition” to speak of when we moved to formula.

But when our pediatrician spoke those magic words at the girls’ one-year checkup, “You can move them to whole milk,”…when my mental calculator began to whir with the sound of savings…I had no idea what I was in for.

We used the remainder of the formula we had on hand, and the girls had their first taste of moo-juice in their nighttime bottle a week or so after their first birthday.

Baby B made a little face and fussed for a minute, but she ultimately drank her entire bottle that evening…and she never looked back.

Baby A, on the other hand, took a couple of sips and began to scream! She steadfastly refused to drink any milk. We had no formula remaining, so she went to bed without a bottle.

The next day, I decided to play tough. Milk, it was! But by the end of the day, when she had not had one drop of liquid, I relented and made a quick trip to the grocery store for another can of formula.

I remember that the poor baby didn’t believe me when I offered her a bottle of formula. I finally had my hubby give it to her before she would take it!

We went a few days with Baby A drinking formula again, as I felt I had to regain her trust. And then, ever so s…l…o…w…l…y… I began the transition again.

In a 120mL bottle, I literally started with 110mL formula and 10mL of milk. I went with this mixture for two or three days, and I would increase the milk by 5 or 10mL.

It took a full month or so before I could finally sever my ties with the Formula League and pledge my allegiance to Bessie the Cow.

Fast-forward 10 months, and I find myself sweating again. The pediatrician directed us last week to move the girls from whole milk to 2%.

At first, I was paralyzed.

I bought another gallon of whole milk and began to contemplate a game plan and give myself pep talks. A couple of days ago I bought another gallon of whole milk, along with a half gallon of 2% to begin the transition.

Before bed last night I gave the girls about 3/4 whole milk to 1/4 of the 2%. Holding my breath, I handed the girls their cups. Success!

By this evening, I decreased the ratio to 2/3 whole milk. So far, so good.

Fingers crossed that the switch continues according to plan…as just the thought of that prolonged transition a year ago makes me want to pour myself a mixed drink!

Fab 5 Friday

So here is a sampling of just a few of the things that made my week fabulous. [In case you'd like the 2-point Cliffs Notes version, it's 1) Baby A; and 2) Baby B. :) ]

1) Whole milk! Baby B transitioned the day of her first birthday party with no issues, but my stubborn little Baby A steadfastly refused anything but formula. I've spent the past MONTH transitioning...milliliter by milliliter...until at last she joined the ranks of the big kids. But we haven't said this aloud...what if she understands more than we think? :)

2) The girls have got a definite "groove thang" going. They've started "dancing" when they hear music, or even when Mommy sings (which doesn't actually qualify for music by most standards, but they don't seem to care). Now if I can just teach them to "raise the roof"! (Or maybe I'd better leave that in the '90's where it belongs???)

3) Roller skating (me, not the girls)! My girlfriends took me to dinner...and then SKATING...for my birthday (long after the girlies were in bed, of course). This doesn't actually have anything to do with the girls, but it will one day. I will be the coolest mom on 8 wheels...as long as the DJ will play a little Bon Jovi now and again.

4) The girls are doing well with sign language. They've mastered the sign for "sleep"...and they have actually used it, unprompted, to tell me they're ready for a nap. It's absolutely one of the most adorable things I've ever seen, them with their little hands curled under their chins, looking so cuddly.

5) Baby A started walking a couple of months ago, and she's progressed to literally running at times. Baby B started taking steps about the same time, but I'm proud to report she's at last walking to get from one side of the room to the other. Ladies, take your marks!