Coping
Some "expert" somewhere said something like, "When your child is two, they don't need milk anymore."
I'm not disagreeing. I have actually blogged multiple times about my relationship with milk, and although I really, really, really like whole milk, I don't buy milk generally.
But, this post isn't about that, it's about Lily.
Anyway, I've been putting it off because Lily is like an albino African baby, complete with the skinny legs and arms and the distended tummy. I conceded to dropping her whole milk-ness to 1%.
A few weeks ago I decided that once the milk ran out, that was it. And "it" was three days ago.
Jeremy, who functions as my other cog when he is home, was attempting to get Lily her bottle of milk, and I informed him that it was gone.
"What do you mean, 'gone'?" he demanded, panic rising in his voice.
"It's GONE. NO MORE," I explained. We both sagged a little. Lily is very particular about stuff...Like everything stuff.
We put her in her bed, and tried to pull one over on her, tossing her blanket on her head (don't worry, there are lots of holes since it is crocheted), and a whole bunch of stuffed animals, yelled with forced cheerfulness, "GOOD NIGHT, LILY! LOVE YOU!" and ran from the room.
It took about .05 seconds for her to start complaining. But what do you do? Jeremy tried to console her with a forkful of apple pie, and that seemed to satisfy her.
Until she wanted more pie.
She eventually fell asleep, and the household breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Until she woke up.
Usually I go in there first thing in the morning and give her a bottle, which she inevitably sprinkles on the floor, and her blankets, and Eva, and her pillows, and the wall...(another reason I decided the milk thing was over), but this morning, I avoided her beady-eyed stare from the top bunk.
I sequestered myself in the bathroom, and asked Josh to get her out of bed.
Now, Josh doesn't do anything half way, and he decided it would be extra fun to do some acrobatics with Lily on her way down from the top bunk, and she landed on her head.
She ran down the hallway crying, and after "telling" on Josh, she went into the kitchen, where she remained very quiet, until Eva ran up to me to tell me that Lily was doing something "HORRIBLE!"
I found Lily on the floor in the pantry consoling herself with an entire bag of marshmallows.
I cleaned it up, shooed her away, and then went back to the bathroom.
Two minutes later, Eva was yelling at me again that Lily was doing something "TERRIBLE!"
Lily was standing next to Eva this time, and she had a container in her hands, and was smiling from ear to ear.
She had the quart container of yogurt.No, it wasn't "firm" yogurt like Yoplait. It was organic, runny yogurt (yes, I know, it gave me the jibblies before I tried it, but now I would never go back), and it was everywhere. She took a long swig out of it, and smiled, satisfied that she was simultaneously giving herself a facial and shiny hair with it.
I cleaned her up, shooed her away, and then went back into the bathroom.
Thirty seconds later, I heard something fall quite musically to the floor, and I didn't wait for Eva to tell me something was wrong, and found Lily with Jeremy's very old, very expensive violin on the floor. I mean, it's one of those instruments that needs insurance, it's so valuable. There. On the floor. Paralyzed with terror that her tiny body was going to decide it needed to jump on it.
At that point, I decided that Lily needed to go back to bed, so to bed she went, where she remained, albeit unhappily, until I was done drawing my face back on.
I guess these things were all coping mechanisms for my tiny two-year-old.
What else do you do when your whole world is falling apart?
And falling apart it was.
Later, I was standing at the kitchen counter, making up a bottle for Eden, and Lily came up to me, wide-eyed, and forlorn. She wanted the bottle.
"No, Lily-loo," I said. "It's for Eden."
"NO! " she cried, and then ran down the hallway in front of me, and then threw herself face down (more like belly flopped) on the ground and went limp. She was still like that when I came back down the hallway after giving Eden her bottle. I stopped and sat next to her, and rubbed her back. She seemed somewhat mollified.
She kept throwing herself on the ground after that, and looking expectantly at me through the side of her eye, so I guess she liked it.
Poor Lily-loo...This too shall pass.
I'm not disagreeing. I have actually blogged multiple times about my relationship with milk, and although I really, really, really like whole milk, I don't buy milk generally.
But, this post isn't about that, it's about Lily.
Anyway, I've been putting it off because Lily is like an albino African baby, complete with the skinny legs and arms and the distended tummy. I conceded to dropping her whole milk-ness to 1%.
A few weeks ago I decided that once the milk ran out, that was it. And "it" was three days ago.
Jeremy, who functions as my other cog when he is home, was attempting to get Lily her bottle of milk, and I informed him that it was gone.
"What do you mean, 'gone'?" he demanded, panic rising in his voice.
"It's GONE. NO MORE," I explained. We both sagged a little. Lily is very particular about stuff...Like everything stuff.
We put her in her bed, and tried to pull one over on her, tossing her blanket on her head (don't worry, there are lots of holes since it is crocheted), and a whole bunch of stuffed animals, yelled with forced cheerfulness, "GOOD NIGHT, LILY! LOVE YOU!" and ran from the room.
It took about .05 seconds for her to start complaining. But what do you do? Jeremy tried to console her with a forkful of apple pie, and that seemed to satisfy her.
Until she wanted more pie.
She eventually fell asleep, and the household breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Until she woke up.
Usually I go in there first thing in the morning and give her a bottle, which she inevitably sprinkles on the floor, and her blankets, and Eva, and her pillows, and the wall...(another reason I decided the milk thing was over), but this morning, I avoided her beady-eyed stare from the top bunk.
I sequestered myself in the bathroom, and asked Josh to get her out of bed.
Now, Josh doesn't do anything half way, and he decided it would be extra fun to do some acrobatics with Lily on her way down from the top bunk, and she landed on her head.
She ran down the hallway crying, and after "telling" on Josh, she went into the kitchen, where she remained very quiet, until Eva ran up to me to tell me that Lily was doing something "HORRIBLE!"
I found Lily on the floor in the pantry consoling herself with an entire bag of marshmallows.
I cleaned it up, shooed her away, and then went back to the bathroom.
Two minutes later, Eva was yelling at me again that Lily was doing something "TERRIBLE!"
Lily was standing next to Eva this time, and she had a container in her hands, and was smiling from ear to ear.
She had the quart container of yogurt.No, it wasn't "firm" yogurt like Yoplait. It was organic, runny yogurt (yes, I know, it gave me the jibblies before I tried it, but now I would never go back), and it was everywhere. She took a long swig out of it, and smiled, satisfied that she was simultaneously giving herself a facial and shiny hair with it.
I cleaned her up, shooed her away, and then went back into the bathroom.
Thirty seconds later, I heard something fall quite musically to the floor, and I didn't wait for Eva to tell me something was wrong, and found Lily with Jeremy's very old, very expensive violin on the floor. I mean, it's one of those instruments that needs insurance, it's so valuable. There. On the floor. Paralyzed with terror that her tiny body was going to decide it needed to jump on it.
At that point, I decided that Lily needed to go back to bed, so to bed she went, where she remained, albeit unhappily, until I was done drawing my face back on.
I guess these things were all coping mechanisms for my tiny two-year-old.
What else do you do when your whole world is falling apart?
And falling apart it was.
Later, I was standing at the kitchen counter, making up a bottle for Eden, and Lily came up to me, wide-eyed, and forlorn. She wanted the bottle.
"No, Lily-loo," I said. "It's for Eden."
"NO! " she cried, and then ran down the hallway in front of me, and then threw herself face down (more like belly flopped) on the ground and went limp. She was still like that when I came back down the hallway after giving Eden her bottle. I stopped and sat next to her, and rubbed her back. She seemed somewhat mollified.
She kept throwing herself on the ground after that, and looking expectantly at me through the side of her eye, so I guess she liked it.
Poor Lily-loo...This too shall pass.
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