Coming Clean On CNY Eve

For like, forever, we’ve been putting Rockstar’s meds in his milk when he’s sick*. Then we tell him he’s gotta finish that or we’re going to force feed him his medication.

(*Giant no-no for babies – we were taught to feed them medication on an empty stomach because if you put it in milk or feed them on a full stomach they might not finish their feed, or they might burp half of it out. In Rockstar’s case we make him drink up.)

Sometimes we put the milk (also, porridge or soup) in wine or martini glasses. Or we let him make his own milk (his current favorite.)

For the last few visits our pediatrician has been wondering why Rockstar keeps telling her “I don’t need medicine. I drink my milk.” She’s started arguing with him that he does need medicine. Time to come clean. Before Rockstar catches us duping him and swears off milk forever.

So this cold season I’m putting medicine in his milk right in front of him. Except he’s been too busy eating the milk and Ovaltine powder out of the tin as he makes his own warm drinks (I switch spoons several times to avoid “double dipping” but he probably still sneaks one by occasionally).

Finally, he takes the bait. “What you doing with the medicine?”

My heart skips a little beat. Moment of Truth time. (In my most reasonable voice) “Well, when you’re sick Mummy puts medicine in your milk. Because you don’t like the taste if we just feed it to you, we mix it in your milk.” I haven’t stopped moving about the kitchen, but I sneak a glance at him. He started nodding thoughtfully at the not liking the taste bit.

(It’s a gross understatement – he fights so hard when we try to force feed him the medicine half the time he throws it up – with anything else that’s still in his stomach. And then we really have no idea how much he’s taken in.)

“That’s why Mummy sometimes asks you to finish your milk. When there’s no medicine in it is when Mummy doesn’t insist you finish it.”

So reasonable I sound theatrical.

<slightly longer pause than usual>

“Okay.”

PPHHEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

One of our pediatricians, the one Rockstar hates, is old school. “The mark of good parenting is how well you get your child to do something he really doesn’t want to do.” It’s possible this is one of the reasons Rockstar hates him so much – he was in earshot.

Not sure this was what the good doctor had in mind, but I’ll take it.