My son T turned two this month, and still took a bedtime bottle. I knew they were going to be on our case about it at his health check, but I’ve been putting off the transition because I was absolutely dreading the self-regulation I was going to need to get through it.
Then we had a day where he woke up and asked for a bottle, had his normal bedtime bottle, and then after cleaning his teeth and reading books, flipped his lid and started screaming for a third bottle. I knew it was time to pull the pin and hubby and I decided the “Bottle Fairy” would visit the next day.
But at 12:25am the next day, he’s up again asking for a fourth bottle, and I made what may have been an unwise choice: I told him there are no more bottles and if he wanted milk, it would be in a cup.
The meltdown was immediate and one of the most intense we’ve seen. At one point I placed him back in his cot (where he proceeded to peg pacifiers and even his beloved Elephant Friend at my head) and walked out to the living room to take a breath. My husband was up tending to the fire, and I started filling a cup of milk, knowing full well it would get violently refused.
Hubby, in his eternal wisdom, said “I didn’t think we were starting this tonight?!”
In hindsight it was an innocent comment but in my heightened state it read as a complete betrayal, questioning my parenting, every other insulting thing it could possibly have felt in that moment. I stormed back up to the bedroom, newly furious with hubby but thankfully no longer furious at my child. He’d given me clarity – I needed to be on T’s team.
It’s amazing how a kid can tell the difference between pretend and real calm, and pretend and real empathy. As soon as I was really meaning the “I’m sorry baby, I know it’s so hard, but you’re being so brave” rather than hissing “there are no more bottles, I can get you a cup” through gritted teeth, T’s anger melted into distress and he stopped treating me as the enemy. He let me place Elephant Friend back in his arms and he sobbed into my chest. He still refused the cup of milk, but let me cuddle him and eventually turn the lights off.
It’s hard to remember that it’s you two against the problem when your little one is actively throwing everything within reach at your head, but the difference it makes to my level of self-regulation and how I show up during a tantrum means it’s earned a spot on the list!