The Gourmet

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For those of you who have children, do you ever look at your child and just know what their career path will look like? Natalie will either be a skilled corporate negotiator, or she will lead a military coup on some small country and become a not-so-benevolent dictator...I just hope she has a room with a closet big enough for all my shoes in her palace. My dream is to rival Imelda Marcos. Michaela Byrd may be heading on the path to becoming a famed food critic whose reviews grace the pages of The New York Times.

Now that she's a year old, we've been gradually shifting from formula to whole milk. That's not really a problem, as formula smells like old, stinky socks and whole milk tastes vastly better than that. (I know this only from T's commentary, because I have no sense of smell!) In fact, it has gone much better than when we did the old switcheroo from breast milk to formula.

I ended up pumping with both of my girls. I wasn't sure how long I'd make it with Michaela Byrd. I pumped for six months when Natalie was a baby, but I didn't think I'd have that kind of time with a two year old and a newborn. So my goal was to take it a week at a time. I hoped to make it to three weeks. Weeks came and went, and I got into a schedule and figured why not try to make it to six months? It became sort of a challenge to myself. Type A's love this kind of stuff--maybe I am a Type A?

Natalie was such a great eater that I assumed that Michaela Byrd would also take to the formula easily. Not so, my friends, not so. We settled down in the chair together and I offered her the bottle. She acted like I was asking her to eat mashed up pickled pig's feet! She spit and yelled and flapped her little arms around. I'm sure that if she could talk, she would have said, "Excuse me, Miss, but this is not what I ordered!"

I ended up having to pump for a whole extra month in order to gradually add the formula in. So whatever they say about the second child getting the shaft is just plain silly. Miss Picky clearly thinks that her palate is too refined for the food we've been serving her. I half expect her to sniff her bottle before swirling it around and taking a sip.

"Excuse me, Miss, but this is not what I ordered. I'd like some chocolate in my milk, please."

If only I could just be the "Milk Nazi" and say, "No milk for you. Come back, one year!"

All in a day's work.....

Planning her next tepid review..."The apple puffs were slightly soggy. I fed them to the dog, and even she didn't care for them. Where can one find a decent caviar around here?"

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