The Bottle Fairy comes tonight. When asked what the Bottle Fairy does, Claire answers, “Bye-bye bottles,” but of course she has no true understanding about what this really means. The Bottle Fairy will bring a present — a rocking horse, since Claire loves to rock and finds it soothing — and take away the bottles, because Claire is a big girl now and can drink milk out of sippy cups (she drinks water from sippy cups just fine).

The challenge has been that she doesn’t want to let go, and I haven’t either. We have a ritual. Over the first year of her life she gradually began refusing to take milk from anyone else but me, unless it was a middle-of-the-night feed, and then Daddy would suffice. She will not drink a bottle of milk on her own. I’ve never left her with a bottle in bed or while she plays. We sit in the same place in the same position, and I sing to her. Milk time has been a quiet cuddling time. I have not wanted to give this up. And yet in the past month I’ve begun to feel restless during our feedings and have found myself wishing she’d take the bottle on her own.

The problem this milk routine has generated is that whenever I’m gone and she wants milk, the person left to care for her (Husband, babysitter) ends up with a lot of grief. Also, the pediatrician has been prodding me to get her off the bottle for reasons I don’t think are compelling — risk of cavities, earaches, and poor jaw development; I don’t leave her with a bottle in her mouth and we brush her teeth twice daily, her ears are just fine as of a doctor visit a week ago, and she doesn’t suck a bottle often enough to cause jaw misalignment. Yet between her and Husband (who agrees with the pediatrician and is tired of the struggle), I feel pressure.

However, I did have a realization about our routine that gave me pause and has provided the impetus to change. The question arose: what is behind my resistance?

I haven’t wanted to let go, because I am clinging to my child and the memory of her infancy, yet infancy is long past. Previous attempts to get her to drink milk in a sippy have generated a lot of crying and tantrums, which I don’t like. I want this to be easy. I was hoping this would just disappear. But parenting is not about doing what suits my wishes or brings me comfort and convenience. Life brings transitions, losses, griefs, and my role is to be with Claire as she experiences them. I can’t protect her (or myself) from them. When I make decisions about her care based on my own comfort and desires, I might be doing a disservice to her. I’m putting my ego needs ahead of her well-being and growth.

Claire will be sad and mad about the change. I’m sure the new toy won’t really compensate. And I’ll just need to suck it up and be there to hold her (emotionally and physically) while she copes with the transition. We have lots of cuddle time; we read books, I hold her and sing, we dance together, we sit on the sofa and watch Between the Lions with Claire tucked under my arm. It’s time to cross this threshold. We’ve talked for several weeks to Claire about the fairy’s impending visit and what will happen. Tonight we will have a little ritual to say good-bye to the bottles before she goes to bed. Then we’ll see how tomorrow goes.

Please wish us well. Particularly, please think positive thoughts for me to maintain my resolve and be brave in the face of her unhappiness. Sometimes I find it hard to do the right thing — I want my child to be happy, and I’m tempted to give in to anything, anything at all, as long as she stops crying, and this is not always the right thing to do.

A friend of mine will keep the bottles at her home to help remove temptation. Our agreement is that if I call and tell her to give them to me, she is to refuse, and only if Husband also calls and makes the request is she to give them back. It’s like the nuclear weapon procedure; there must be two people to turn the key. 😉