Hello! The Phone is Ringing So I Say Hello!

I’m not sure what I expected, really. I guess I thought that when Pumpkin officially crossed the one year threshold into toddler-hood that things miraculously got easier. I had a little parenting-confidence and puffed my chest out just a little as I slowly toddled with her, grasping onto my index finger, to the doctor’s office for her one year appointment (see video for an idea of how slow slow is).

I sat proudly in the “well baby” room (a place we haven’t spent much time) remembering the days I sat in that same room crying, looking frantically around for a spare diaper and praying they wouldn’t call her name before I could unhook her from her carseat (which took a long time back then) and changed her diaper. One year later here I was. We had come so far. I was proud of us and I looked at those new mothers with a little knowing pity. In all my one year of wisdom, I sat there glowing with the realization that the hard times were behind us. I didn’t have a “baby” anymore, I had a toddler and we had this thing figured out.

Imagine my surprise when Dr. Doogie (Pumpkin’s very young pediatrician) began lecturing me. Me! I mean, here I am with my healthy, happy, beginning-to-walk-and-talk one year old. What could I possibly be doing wrong?

Well…apparently at one we face new challenges (who knew!). The first on my list was to get Pumpkin off formula and off the bottle. Doogie gave me three months to get rid of both of them. Unfortunately, he didn’t break the news to Pumpkin.

As you can all probably guess, I immediately consulted the almighty Internet. There were plenty of ‘net mommys bellyaching about the “transition” from bottle to cup and how it took a couple of tries to get their babies to like milk but they added a little formula and “Voila!” their babies were little calves at the milk teet. All I could do was laugh. For us (and more accurately for Pumpkin) this wasn’t about the “newness” of milk or the cup. This was about her undying love for both formula and being bottle-fed.

This child did not just enjoy a bottle of formula – she relished in it, cherished it, lived for it. Even at a year old, she would fling the paci out of her mouth and lay back in my arms, mouth agape, and arms flung to the side waiting for ME to put the bottle in her mouth and feed her. She wouldn’t even consider offering to hold it herself (even though she could hold it). So this was something more than simply transitioning for Pumpkin. This was a matter of life and love.

I tried it every which way. Formula in a sippy cup, milk in a bottle, a mixture in a blender, pedia-sure, whole milk, soy milk, her holding, me holding, sitting, standing, laying – you name it, we tried it. And each time, if there was a drop of the white stuff anywhere near her mouth she would lurch forward violently and spit it from her mouth like poison. If it were in a sippy cup, it would usually just sit and spoil, untouched.

It doesn’t help that technology has made the sippy cup virtually spill proof. Now, I know, this sounds like a good thing but think about it – spill proof isn’t far from sip proof. I mean, if you can’t get the liquid out…you can’t get the liquid out. Great for your carpet, not great for a thirsty tot.

And trust me, I have purchased every sippy cup on the market – and there are LOTS of them. An entire row at the store, in fact. There are tall ones, short ones, fat ones, thin ones. It’s like a Dr. Seuss book. I’ve tried the ones with self-regulating valves and air-flow vents. I’ve tried the ones with pop-up straws and I’ve tried the ones with hard and soft taps. I’ve tried them all. The only one I haven’t been able to find is the one from when I was a kid. It was a basic cheap #7 plastic, your choice of three solid primary colors, with an ill-fitting lid you just pressed on, and a spout with a hole in it. You could easily flip the lid off and even if you didn’t do that your drink would dribble down your chin because you couldn’t regulate the opening at all short of pressing your tongue against it or uprighting yourself. And don’t dare put the thing in the microwave or dishwasher because that BPA-filled plastic would shard and flake like you wouldn’t believe. But all of that aside – it worked! Working aside, they are apparently off the market.

My frustration with finding the perfect sippy cup is probably nothing compared to Pumpkin’s frustration (and thirst). Each new cup I excitedly wash, fill, and set in front of her, waiting with anticipation for her take the first sip. As she moves the cup back from her little mouth I hold my breath hoping to see some sign of moisture left behind. Usually I’m disappointed. Then I inevitably see her slowly move the cup across the tray of her highchair with one hand, like a card dealer laying out her cards. What’s next is a lightning fast backwards flick of that hand that sends the cup sailing to the ground. I add that cup to the collection in my kitchen cabinet and hand her a regular cup as I grab a towel and try to stay dry.

While she has yet to master the sippy cup, she continues to demonstrate her giftedness for other forms of electronic technology. Somehow she has managed to set a repeat DVR recording of a Paul Anka infomercial (something I don’t even know how to do…or to delete), demonstrating her proficiency with the remote (though perhaps questionable music taste). Her love of telephones also led her to experiment with Nona and Pop’s home phone (a novelty in itself) until she got a voice on the other end – a man saying “if you would like to make a call, please hang up and try again.” I’m not sure what happened to the woman who said it in the 80s – I guess equal opportunity is alive and well – but in any event Pumpkin was thrilled to listen to his instructions over and over again.

So needless to say, I’ve been humbled as I begin my adventure into parenting a toddler. I have begged the nursery ladies to help with the sippy cup “transition” (we have milk down now – literally and figuratively), because as if I hadn’t learned this already, it does, indeed, take a village. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this video of her not only DJ-ing her own party (if you can’t hear it, it’s the title song to this blog) but also practicing her dance moves for Uncle Jess and Aunt Mandy’s wedding this weekend.