Ruby in the Rough: Sippy Success!

Sometimes as parents, we imagine that transitions for our children will be worse than they actually are. Potty training, big-kid bed, the first day of school...I've seen friends stress for weeks about these impending shifts, sure that their kids will never adjust. All the while it's really Mom and Dad who have the issue.

I know I have been guilty of it in my short career as a Mom.

MJ, who was a challenged sleeper to say the least, spent the first six and half weeks of his life sleeping either in my arms or in the carseat. He hated the bassinet with a passion. So, I was sure he'd NEVER sleep in the crib. When it came time to give it a try, I fretted. Sure enough, he slept just fine. I on the other hand, awoke every hour with worry.

It was the same when we dropped the swaddle. MJ had started to roll onto his tummy and I knew I couldn't risk him making the move without having his arms free to push back over. I dreaded it, thinking he'd never stop playing with his arms long enough to go to sleep. And, if by some miracle he did nod off, he'd certainly awake himself in a manner of minutes with a stray arm whack. Well, after fifteen minutes of air swimming, MJ fell fast asleep - arms and legs splayed out spread eagle with a slumbering expression on his face that seemed to say, "sweet freedom".

Still, despite these examples, I admit I was afraid of the famous Sippy Cup Transition. MJ had been bottle fed practically since birth, so I figured that he had more than a small attachment to the bottle. I'd offered him a sippy a few times, but he never took much of an interest and I didn't push it. But, with his first birthday approaching, I knew I was running out of time.

Now, I know all the Grandmas reading this are rolling their eyes. One year? Running out of time? Yes, I know that when we were children, we all ran around with our bottles until age two, three, and sometimes beyond. And we are no more the worse for it.

But every generation has its child rearing rules. In the fifties, Moms were a slave to the clock. In the seventies, you had epidural guilt and the militant La Leche League fanatics who looked at you cross-eyed if you weaned your baby from the breast before preschool (ok, so I exaggerate). Eighties and nineties Moms got the stink eye for spanking, or pretty much any manner of discipline that might damage a child's "spirit".

Well, the Sippy Cup is my generation's cross to bear.

For something so small and seemingly inconsequential, the pressure is tremendous. Did you know they make sippys for babies as young as 4 months old? Those handy automatic emails from parenting websites like Babycenter.com send you "reminders" to start your infant on a sippy cup by four or five months. By the time six months rolls around, the urgency increases - better get on this or your child will be handicapped for life! At nine months, the pediatricians and nurses assistants start clucking their tongue at you.

"You really should get him on a sippy cup; you want those bottles gone by one."

And then there are the horror stories of Moms who waited too long. Babies who go on hunger strikes, refuse to sleep, and start to shun all utensils or table food all together in steadfast protest.

Shudder.

Yes, we Moms are led to believe that if we don't erase all signs of bottles by one year of age, our children will starve to death, have malformed teeth, be ridiculed by their fellow playdate set, and, in general, be disadvantaged for life.

To much of this I have simply responded: calm the hell down. But, still, I knew I needed to get him started on a Sippy before he become too set in his ways (I wonder where he might get that from?) to try anything else.

My plan was simple. MJ is starting to drop his afternoon bottle anyway. He's down to merely half a bottle at this point and it's really just a snack to hold him over until dinner. So, I decided to start by swapping that bottle for a sippy. That way, if he refused it, he wouldn't be starving.

So, yesterday, I timidly filled up his little blue sippy with formula, handed it to him, and put him down like always. Be cool, I thought, Act like nothing's different. He can smell fear.

Well, just like with the other transitions MJ's encountered, it was a complete nonevent. He looked at it for a second, sucked on it, looked at it again, turned it over, sucked on it again, and then was off to the races like nothing was different at all. He ended up finishing almost the whole sippy without a hiccup, on his first try! I was so proud.

As I sat there watching him in amazement, I thought about what could have been the secret to these successful transitions? Was MJ a whiz? Was he really easygoing and nothing phased him? (Insert laugher here). Was I simply such an epic and awesome mother that I could teach my child anything in a matter of mere seconds? (Laughing again.)

No, I think the secret is timing it right. Push him too soon and he's not ready. Wait too long and he's not budging now. I've never pushed MJ to get to the next step, patiently waiting for him to be ready to crawl, sit up, eat table food, and the like. To me, it's a matter of respect. While these transitions may seem small to a world of eager adults, they're a big deal to tiny little MJ. After all, whether it's learning to stand up, hold his own bottle, or take a bath in the big boy tub, that new skill is earth shattering. It's something completely new, that changes everything he knows about life overnight.

These baby steps are a big thing and it's not worth rushing. Even if my pediatrician gives me the side eye every now and then. I'm going to be patient. MJ deserves it and I do, too. I just hope I can remember this nugget of wisdom when he's 18 months and I'm tired of diapers. But you all will remind me, won't you? :)

And now for the photos:

Hmm, Mommy what is this?