Milking It

I don’t like milk. I don’t like whole milk, skim milk, 2% milk or 1% milk. I don’t like chocolate milk or strawberry milk. I don’t like soy milk or any other product that is meant to replace cow milk.

Ick. Hate.

But Tom is a big champion of the nutritional wonders of milk. When I was pregnant with Alyssa, he encouraged me to drink the vile stuff.

I tried. I really did. But when morning sickness hit with a vengeance at eight weeks and didn’t stop until 20 weeks, I gave up on it. I made the deal with Tom that when I managed to go an entire week without throwing up, I’d try to milk routine again. Alas, I never went an entire week the entire pregnancy without throwing up at least once.

So…no milk for me or Alyssa.

And guess what? She doesn’t like it either. But since Tom is the boss of her, he makes her drink it.
He’s tried to get me to give it to her too but I can’t do it. I’ve told him that I cannot in good conscience make my child drink something she hates as much as I hate. And, I remind him, we feed her other foods that are rich in calcium and vitamin D. She eats a pretty good variety of foods and so, while I don’t stop him from pouring her that glass of milk every few nights for dinner, I won’t do it myself.

Olivia? She loves the stuff.

And for the record, I didn’t drink it during my pregnancy with her either. Though I ‘only’ threw up every day from week ten to week twenty with her, I again, never went an entire week without tossing my cookies and so, the no-milk rule continued. So obviously, there is no correlation to the idea of Alyssa hating it because I refused to drink it while pregnant with her.

Tom’s pretty sure, though, that Alyssa doesn’t like it because she’s heard me say I don’t. Which…whatever! She happens to love diet Pepsi (introduced to her by the very man who insists she drink milk) and I hate that stuff too and have said so on many occasions. So there you go.