Motherhood FAIL of the Week: Drink Me

The Muffin Man cannot, for the life of him, figure out how to drink from a straw.  He knows how to use a regular sippy cup without a problem, and he's even figured out how to drink from a glass, but if you hand the kid a cup with a straw he is completely flummoxed.  It's supposed to be easier for them to drink from a straw, but it looks as though my son prefers to do things the hard way and go straight from boob to goblet.  I suppose in the long run I'll be glad to have a child who won't have to be weaned off the straw like an addict from meth, but in the meantime it's kind of a pain in the ass when we're out and about.  See, they don't really make portable, non-straw sippy cups.  There are many, many types of cups with straws for kids on the go, but cruise the aisles for some sort of straw-less option and you come up short.  I didn't really think this was too much of a problem until we went to the zoo last week.

As those of you who live in Los Angeles and have children know, the zoo is a popular destination for parents and children.  it also happens to be incredibly freaking hot.  I swear, it can be 55 degrees throughout the rest of the city, but the minute you walk through the gates of the Los Angeles Zoo, the temperature rises 30 degrees and it feels as though you're trudging through the Sahara with no oasis in sight.  I realize that going to the zoo in the middle of a heat wave was probably poor parental planning on my part, but last week Noah and I met up with some friends for an afternoon of animal voyeurism.  I felt as though I was highly prepared for our outing: I slathered both of us with (natural) sunscreen, I brought extra hats, a few healthy snacks, a change of clothing, hand sanitizer… I was loaded down with Mommy goods.

All in all, the afternoon proceeded well.  Noah enjoyed seeing the gorillas, he thought the giraffes were hilarious, and he didn't even get scared when one of the male zebras attempted to force himself on one of the lady zebras (I'm happy to report she kicked him in the nuts and got away).  The day was warm, but I had my trusty water bottle in my bag, which I shared with Noah.  He took a few sips when they were proffered, but he's not exactly an ace bottled water drinker, so a significant amount of liquid ended up dampening his shirt.  After we'd made one turn around the zoo and stopped in the gift store to admire the life sized stuffed giraffe that I have dreams of one day being able to afford for my children, we headed home.  I did notice that Noah wasn't quite himself on the ride home; he seemed especially out of sorts and he cried even louder than he normally does when forced to remain in the carseat for longer than ten minutes.  I assumed that his wailing would stop once we got home, but even after being rescued from the carseat he continued his assault on my eardrums.  I couldn't figure out what was wrong.  He refused any offer of snacks, he already had two blankies in hand, and my out-of-sync dancing failed to calm him down.  Finally, it dawned on me that even though he had been crying for well over an hour, he didn't seem to have any tears.  My poor child was dying of thirst!  The kid was, in fact, so dehydrated from an afternoon spent sweating it out at the zoo that he didn't even have enough water to produce tears.  Horrified at my stupidity, I quickly raced to the kitchen, filled up a sippy cup with refreshing water and handed it to Noah, who drained the whole thing in just a few minutes.

I'm happy to report that he Noah doesn't seem to have sustained any permanent, lasting physical damage as a result of my negligence.   You will, however, be happy to know that I'm now carrying one of those stupid, non-portable, leaking sippy cups around with me at all times.  Because while Noah may enjoy seeing camels in their desert habitat, he is not personally equipped to join them in going without water for days on end.