Hot Chocolate War

There’s been a chocolate milk battle waging in my household. I love hot chocolate. Last year, when I was 9 months pregnant at Christmas and couldn’t indulge in many festive events or vices (oh, soft cheese!), my family started laughing at me for how fixated I became on hot chocolate. I brought it up so often. I waddled to Sugar Hill Creamery in Harlem (plug!) to get my marshmallow covered fix. And now, this year, I’m trying to force hot chocolate enthusiasm on to my 3-year old.

I got him a special hot chocolate mug, an assortment of flavored mixes, tiny marshmallows to put on top, and made a big deal about mixing the ingredients together. But lately he has a real aversion to anything being too hot. He waits to eat his oatmeal in the morning until it’s it cold and lumpy, if he senses any steam or heat emanating from his dinner he asks me to blow on it until it’s room temperature. So of course, when I clumsily spilled hot chocolate on the counter in front of him, he felt its heat, the tears streamed out, and he decided “I don’t like hot chocolate.”

I protested to him, “you DO like hot chocolate!” But his mind was made up and he has refused to try it every day since. That is, until I rebranded it. I asked if he’d like “warm chocolate milk,” and voila, he’s on board again. I don’t let him see the hot chocolate powder (because in his mind chocolate milk has syrup) and he hesitated when I snuck it into the aforementioned mug, but he gulped it up once he tasted it.

I’m not sure why this matters so much to me. I think I like the idea of the ceremony over which we can chat. But my point today, is that sometimes we put up boundaries around things, or decide we don’t like things because of one mishap, or misleading nomenclature, or because we’re “not supposed” to like something. So don’t be like a 3 year old and discount yourself from new experiences. Try some new things this week, after all the year resets soon and nothing counts, right?

Not pictured: pine needles, hooks, and packaging strewn all over the floor.