Cup of tea, darling?

So, to follow on from the Quavers confession, it would appear I have another one for you (and it’s nothing to do with the peeling paint in the dining room, though I’m sure just having to look at it pains some of you severely). Some of you may have already seen the confession on Twitter or Facebook, but I felt that 140 words, or even 400 words (that’s the Facebook limit, isn’t it?) would not dig me a big enough hole to bury my reputation as a reasonably decent mother, and it required a whole blog post to elaborate about the latest line in parental ball-dropping.

I don’t think I’m the only person who used to judge parents before coming a parent herself (or in the early days of parenthood). I would wonder at the use of TV as a babysitter, I would marvel at the pre-schoolers walking around guzzling Fruit Shoots and stuffing their faces with, well, yes, Quavers. And, despite having been brought a cup of tea by my dad every morning since before I can remember, I was shocked to hear parents admit that their children were rather fond of tea, or coffee.

Uh-huh. I know there are a few people out there who have managed not to succumb to any of the above. But now I have sunk even deeper and I have a toddler who is seems to really like tea. To the point where she was asking for it during one of her semi-conscious middle-of-the-night awakenings recently (though after some ‘dot dot’, so at least the breastmilk still comes top of her favourites).

How did this happen, when we have been fairly careful about keeping Rosemary away from the evil caffeine? Well, it started when I put my tea down on the chest in the living room in the mornings, while giving Eleanor her morning ‘dot dot’. She’d have her milk while I drunk my tea and read my book. When I put it down, we’d point at the cup and both say ‘Hot, hot. Hot tea.’ After we’d finished, she’d get down and point and say ‘Hot tea’ again, and I’d say ‘No, it’s all gone,’ and then, after a while, she took to drinking the dregs of the tea. Gradually, she started trying to drink it earlier until I had to put it up on the shelf and make do with cold tea after the morning feed.

And then she started sneaking it at the breakfast table – she now has a habit of climbing out of the high chair and walking round the table, trying out everyone else’s food. I’m usually still running around in the kitchen or eating on the hoof, while throwing snack bags together or emptying dishwashers or, you know, checking Twitter and Facebook on the phone, so don’t always get through in time to get her off the table. A couple of times she managed a good few gulps of my luke-warm tea. Oops.

Anyway… it escalated to the point where it seemed like a better idea to give her a couple of centimetres of my tea topped up with a lot of milk (so only a teeny bit of caffeine) and keep her away from the higher doses – and MY TEA! She’s now had a little cup of this ‘tea’ for the last few mornings, adding squirty cream and as straw yesterday. And the addition of the squirty cream has got Rosemary on the squirty cream bandwagon – she’s not fussed about the tea itself (she likes fruit teas), but give her a mini cup of squirty cream and she’ll be your friend for at least 15 minutes.

What’s going to be next? Sweets on the walk up to school? Um…. Chocolate spread at breakfast? Um… Giving in to whining and tantrums in a shop? Um… Putting undiluted juice in a sippy cup? Um… OK. Bugger. I may well have hit rock bottom already.

What did you always swear you wouldn’t stoop to as a parent and have? Or have you managed to keep to all your parenting principles? And, please, please, please, tell me your own tea stories. It’s not that bad is it? Maybe?