There are things you forget, and then there are things you purposely shove out of your memory because it's better that way.
Giving babies medicine. It's that special sort of challenging that is best left forgotten.
Mila and the never-ending drama that is the cold she's had for seemingly half her life has brought that special sort of memory out of the dungeon and slapped it right in my face. She's like most all tiny humans and makes the process as challenging as possible.
By the way, you may not know this, but babies are born with 18 arms. You can only see two of them because the other ones move too fast for the naked eye to detect. You can tell they're there if you try to walk through a store with lots of glass while holding a baby. Crash! Boom! Bang!
You can also tell if you try to put medicine in a baby's mouth. Babies can grab that syringe or spoon and launch it across the room faster than you can yell, "But it will make you feel better!"
Mila started her round of antibiotics in very typical fashion. She yelled, flailed, and generally did all she could to resist. We've played that game before, however, so it didn't really work out for her. So, she changed strategies.
At first, I didn't realize what she was doing. I thought she was giving in and being a perfect little angel who takes her medicine without a fight. I was ... wrong. Miss Mila happily let me shove the medicine in her mouth and then waited. And waited. And waited. Once she thought I was no longer paying attention, she quietly opened her mouth and let the medicine fall out.
All of it.
It was the silent yet brilliant refusal. Given that it was BRILLIANT, truly, I figured it was just a lucky attempt.
She has done that exact thing every time I've given her anything in the past three days.
The really super part of it all is that she's now on day 7 of antibiotics, but rocking a ton of congestion and a fever while still tugging on her ear. I'm pretty sure we're going to end up with some bonus days that she can use to find a fun new way to fight the power.
