My 3-Year-Old Has a Bad Habit We Just Can't Break

My 3-year-old daughter has a secret. Secret? Oh, who am I kidding? She isn't the least bit secretive about it, this thing she does so brazenly. Brace yourself. It isn't pretty.

My sensitive little beauty, wise and witty and kind beyond her years, still drinks a bottle. Just one, of milk, each night before bed. She doesn't like it out of a cup (even a sippy) because she's physically sick by the smell. At least that's how she acts, in that dramatic toddler way moms know too well. But considering her delicate stomach and keen nose, I tend to believe her on this one.

Yet somehow, she loves the very same milk, gulps it down, is comforted by it, in her trusty old infant bottle — the one she's had since I brought her home from the hospital as a newborn.

It's one of the last remnants of babyhood she's still clinging to. Fiercely.

It doesn't help that there is another baby, an actual baby, in the house in the form of her 1-year-old brother. Nor does it help that said baby does still (more respectably) drink milk out of a bottle. Our little girl will watch as our little boy — whom she loves and protects like a good big sister already — struts around the house guzzling it by day and eagerly grabs it from our hands at night when he's snuggling into his crib. It's almost like he's flaunting it.

But let's be honest here. We can't very well put all the blame — or any — on our son or the complex relationship between siblings. We were on the path toward overgrown bottle-drinking long before the baby of the house joined us.

For one thing, we didn't break our daughter of the habit at the magic age of 1. We were heading in that direction, I can assure you. We'd read all the guidelines. Heard tales of other moms and dads throwing their children's bottles away on the first birthday. And the other stories, those about kids still sucking away like infants when they were 4 years old.

We were on the path toward bottle-weaning just after 1 when our doctor told us to slow down. Our then-only child was on the low end of the weight chart, and our pediatrician was worried. She stressed that whole milk was an important part of any 1-year-old's diet but particularly one as small as ours. Alas, our little girl, strong-willed even then, wasn't having any of this milk-out-of-a-cup business. Each time I tried (and there were dozens), she wrinkled her nose, pursed her lips shut, and pushed it away. Later, she'd reject it with a single, defiant word: "No!"

So I pared back, until eventually we were at just one bottle of milk a day before bed. And that's when we went in for her checkup, put her on the scale, and were met with her doctor's alarm.

"I'm not concerned with her drinking a bottle if that's the only way she'll take her milk," she told us, rattling off how many ounces our child should be getting. "As long as she's not walking around with it all day or drinking it all night, she's okay. She can keep taking it 'til she's 2 1/2 or 3, even."

So the days, weeks and months ticked by. My daughter blossomed from a young, baby-toddler into one who looked much more like a little girl. She quit her pacifier. Her hair grew long. Her teeth straightened out. She started talking in full sentences, eating with less fuss, playing make-believe and asking lots of questions. She has always made us laugh, but her "older toddler" comments and stories began surprising and delighting us in whole new ways. She even mastered potty training (almost).

But the bottle? Oh, the bottle. That is still with her, firmly in her grip. There have been more tears and tantrums over that single pesky baby accessory than I ever thought possible. It's become harder than ever to get her to stop.

But at last, I can see the light.

It was the approach of my daughter's third birthday — and a tip from her preschool teacher — that helped most with starting the downfall. As the big day got closer and I'd tell my little girl about all she had to look forward to, I'd also throw in mentions of turning into a big girl who wouldn't drink out of a bottle anymore. I tried to ignore the crestfallen look on her face, the quivering of her lip and the sadness in her eyes.

Her teacher suggested that I give her a straw for her cup of milk. So I bought a colorful stash. I started telling my daughter that in order to get her nightly bottle, she had to drink a little bit from a cup first. That little bit grew and grew, and I made up a counting game as part of the ritual — the kind of game she loves to play, especially before bed.

Now, a month into her 3-year-old existence, our toddler is still drinking her bottle — but only a couple of ounces worth most nights. The rest of her milk she sips eagerly from her glittery Minnie Mouse cup through a jewel-colored straw, all while counting Snow White's dwarves for one go-round and naming her classmates for another. When she gets to the bottom and hears that slurping, bubbling sound signaling the end, a triumphant smile transforms her face.

"I did it, Mommy!" she cries excitedly.

Yes, she did. And she will keep doing it until her old friend the bottle is nothing more than a rosy, distant memory.