Milk fever

(Photo by pankaspe)

Even though it's still a few days until Julian's real birthday, we took him to the pediatrician for his 12-month well-check. All good news, we're happy to report. He's still a little guy. Just at 19 pounds and a shorty. He's in the lowest 5 percent of weight and height, but our doctor wasn't too concerned. Mainly because he's pretty much on the go all day long. It's a rarity if he sits still to eat an entire meal, much less to play. So the combination of burning all those calories and not having the patience to eat more than a handful or two of food makes for a tiny baby.

(Oh, and don't forget the never-ending battle between Shiva and me to keep her from eating all his food. I'll give him, say, a cheese quesadilla, and before he's walked out of the kitchen, Shiva's sniffing it out, seeing what he's got. She won't snatch it right out of his hand unless offered, but he thinks it's a fun game to reach his hand out and watch her take whatever he's got (chicken, bread, even raisins) out of his little fist. This, admittedly, is probably why he's not gaining as much weight as he should.)

Now that he's a year old, we can start giving him milk besides mine. He's been eating cheese and yogurt for awhile, but he hadn't had straight cow's milk until today. He scrunched his nose at first and turned away, but the second time, after he saw mommy enjoy a big ol' glass of the white stuff with her homemade chicken and rice soup (yum!), he lapped it up. I have a feeling this calorie-rich goodness will be Ian's lifesaver when I'm in New York to help him get back to sleep at 6 a.m.

I bought organic milk for the first time the other day, and I could be a convert. I should be a convert, I know, but it's nearly twice as expensive as the regular. But damn, it's so tasty. Really, the taste difference is amazing. It's much sweeter and richer. Is it worth the cost? I'm sure it is, but part of me pulls out the old, "well, if it was good enough for me" line. But I don't think back then (oh, way back then in the '90s, you know:P) they were putting quite the hormones they do now in milk.

I remember the days when I was a kid when I'd drink like half a gallon of the stuff a day. Milk fever, my dad called it. He suffered from it, too. That insatiable thirst for something that, biologically, doesn't make much sense. We're the only mammals who drink another animal's milk, or any milk for that matter, past infanthood. It's weird when you really think about it. So maybe I won't think about it and I'll just suck it up and buy the best milk I can. And, in moments like these, after I pull some oatmeal raisin cookies out of the oven, let the milk fever return.