picky

    Ask anyone in my family and they will tell you that I am the pickiest eater.  It's only because everyone else in my family will eat things like caviar, fish and muscle soup (for thanksgiving one year), weird danish candy, and liver. On the other hand, to my husband's family, I am really "out there" when it comes to food. Zach thinks I am so strange because instead of wanting candy for a snack I eat green olives, and my favorite dinner ever is corned beef with steamed cabbage. 

      Now that stuff may be a little weird, but the one thing that I definitely AM picky about is expiration dates. I drive my mother CrAzY because if I ever go home, I check everything I eat to make sure it's still "fresh".  She's tried to convince me that those dates don't mean a thing, and back in the day there was no such thing as an expiration date. I don't care though. Even if it's not accurate, that little dated stamp makes me feel a whole lot better. I don't want to risk pouring a glass of sour milk, or eating some beef that has gone bad. If that ever happens to me, I will be scarred for life. 

   The worst is milk. I won't drink milk anywhere but from my fridge, it has to be REALLY cold, and if my glass starts to get a tiny bit warm while I'm eating, I will throw it out and pour some new milk. I have rules for these things. I will bake or cook with milk on it's expiration date, but I won't drink that milk. 

  So now that you all know what a freak I am when it comes to my food, I have a feeling that Jonah is picking up on my little paranoia. 

 For the past week, he is being so weird about his milk. I will pour him a new bottle and then five minutes later he will ask for new milk. Oh, and in order for him to drink it, it has to be really cold and he wants to watch me refill it. Now it might just be because his throat is sore, but he want's me to refill it even when it's still really cold.

 Since this is perfectly understandable to me, I've been going along with it, and wasting a lot of milk so he can always have cold, fresh milk. That is until Zach discovered what was going on last night. I asked him to fill up Jonah's already full bottle of milk, and show Jonah what he was doing, so Jonah would accept it. 

     Of course Zach convinced me how ridiculous and spoiled Jonah was becoming, and I realized I was creating a mini me!(Do you think I like being this way?)

     So today, Jonah is NOT getting a new cup of milk every ten minutes, but I am putting it back in the fridge as soon as I see he's not drinking it. He's not too happy about it, and keeps throwing his bottle in my face, but he'll learn. Being a mom is so hard.