many mundane moments

This is a test, this is only a test

I took the week off work (well, after Monday which after the fact I wish I had taken that day in advance, too). We had planned for me and Howie to go to California with Matt. I fear we would have cramped his style, so we stayed home. I also have this weekend off because my cousin was going to get married and my family was going to come visit. The wedding was called off and they went east instead. So, with a whole stretch of time off work with nothing planned, we're doing a dairy trial this week.

It was originally going to be goat milk, which I've read is easier to digest, but a few sips changed that plan. I cracked the can open yesterday morning for breakfast. The fact that it comes in a can should have been the first clue. I tasted it. I cringed. It tasted vaguely like the evaporated milk I used to sneak from the refrigerator growing up, but without any hint of sweet. It was awful. I read the can more closely- dilute half and half with water. That wasn't any better. I figured I'd let Howie be the judge. The kid eats carpet, afterall.

I heard him take a drink during the prayer. Instead of the usual "aaaaaah" afterward (which would make his grandpa G. proud), I heard him shudder. I finished the prayer and he took another drink. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but the tone was clear. "Mom, what are you feeding me? That stuff is bad. very, very, bad." I did a quick substitute for actual milk. He seems to like that better, but doesn't love it. Maybe we should try chocolate.

So far, so good, but we're only about 24 hours in. We tried last February(?), and it took 3 days for him to really start reacting. I'm giving him more this time though. Last time it was just about 2 tbsp in the morning. This time he's had about 1/4 cup each time and I gave him some in the afternoon, too. Well, his aunt did, but I let her. He kept clearing his throat after the drink yesterday afternoon. I don't think he's ever experienced the joy that is post-milk phlegm in your throat.

As for me, I've stolen a few sips and am feeling a bit out of sorts. For the first 26.75 years of my life, I loved milk. loved it. any form, any time. Now? not so much. Even fresh milk tastes sour to me and the aftertaste is killing me. I kicked off the trial with a bowl of ice cream Monday night. It may have been a name referring to animal droppings, but I just wasn't feeling it. It was alright, but not the ecstacy I had built up the reunion to be. maybe a trip to leatherby's is in order. We've got to find something to pass the time while we're home alone.

posted by Valarie @ 9:22 AM