Milk Musings

For the majority of Tristan's life (3 1/2 years now - just to give you a time frame) we've drank raw milk. When that is unavailable, we get the next best thing: milk from the local diary "Homestead Creamery." We get it delivered, making it a little fresher than what is in the stores, and we always get the Whole Creamline milk - meaning it is pasteurized but not homogenized.

Shannon as of lately has decided that he doesn't like "cream milk." Sometimes you'll get a chunk, for lack of better or more descriptive adjectives, of cream in the milk that just won't seem to blend in well. The longer you let un-homogenized milk sit, the more the cream and milk separate. If Shannon even thinks he sees cream an alarm system goes off and we all seek immediate, underground shelter. .......
No, not really. But anyone who's dealt with children's sudden absolutes about food knows the ensuing havoc caused by not adhering to their eating mandates, whether the fault was real or perceived. Tristan it is black beans, broccoli, ranch dressing and onions; Shannon it is cream. Heaven forbid there be good-for-you cream in that there milk!

Tristan, is another matter, as siblings usually are. It was with great amusement this morning that I heard him exclaim that there was cream in his milk. And there was. I had noticed a big glob of it go into his glass last night (don't worry, the glass was in the fridge overnight!! geez - you worry-warts, you!!). I told him it was good for him and to drink it.
Then I heard him announce that he was eating it. OK. He is drinking out of a tall, child-sized, Tervis Tumbler. A tall, narrow plastic cup basically. First I start hearing the noises. For those of you who know me, you know I can't stand "mouth noises." Tristan was reaching his little hands way down into the cup, scraping up some cream on his fingers and eating it. Like the determination to get the last little bit of ice cream or milkshake out of a cup. Relishing in the deliciousness of it. I handled it for a minute or so before I couldn't take it anymore.
I told him to drink it, and was informed that it wouldn't come out! So ... I went and got a long teaspoon and scooped the rest out and let him have at the spoon. I then began cleaning out the cup.

For those of you who've never had raw or creamline milk, clean-up is a little different. The milk clings to glasses and cups, the cream even more so. Warm-to-hot water is a requirement to get it off, as is a little rubbing with a sponge.

While I was cleaning his cup, Tristan announced he wanted water. I told him he could have milk. Then I told him that he could have milk with his lunch.
I'll end this with his reply, his way of saying he wanted the milk right then and there, not later.

"I want milk without my lunch!"