I think one of the niftiest, quaintest things about living in a small town (something I've said over and over again I never expected to do) is that we have a real, live milkman who delivers our weekly dose of dairy right to our doorstop. Now I must admit, I'm sure the big-city Denverites can also get their milk delivered to them. But I prefer to think it is a perk of small town living so let me keep my daydream as it stands.
We've had milk delivered to our house for the past two years; with the exception of a few months last summer in which I canceled milk delivery because I was a feisty, sleep deprived mama and (irrationally) felt the milkman wasn't getting my dairy to me early enough. It is one of life's little treasures that I, well, treasure. Even during last winter's shut-down-the-highway snow storms, our milk arrived. He (or she - I suppose there probably are some female delivery persons...though I know ours is a man so I'll keep with the sexist though accurate description of "milkman") brings me a gallon of 1% milk, a gallon of whole milk, and a pint of 1/2-n-1/2 every week. We can also request other essentials such as bread, cheese, eggs, bagels, coffee, yogurt, cookie dough, etc. Yes, cookie dough. Sure this delivery comes at a price. Meaning if you saw the prices we pay for their rbGH-free milk you might cringe. But again, having fresh milk and other essentials delivered to my door every week is beyond worth it. I'm not a stop-by-the-grocery-store-three-times-a-week kind of gal. If I can stretch grocery duty to every 10 days I do. But milk is an absolute must in a house of growing boys and coffee-addicted adults. So the delivery is one of my greatest conveniences as a mama. The only thing I wish they would add to their list is Diet Coke and then my life would be set. Yes, I'm a simple woman with simple needs. It's why my hubby loves me so much.
With this little bit of background on our milk delivery service, I will continue with the point of my tale. Holden is teething. Fiercely. My usual good sleeper is having a bit more trouble because of his ailment. I will knock wood here but my baby sleeps through the night from 7pm to 7am most every single night. A blessing compared to his brother at that same age...or even now. He never wakes in the middle of the night. We are so lucky (and I'm continuing to knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder and cross myself). But Wednesday night he was up at 3:30 inconsolable. I knew it was his teeth causing him issue. I can feel a large molar trying to jut its way out of his gums. Can you imagine if we adults went through this kind of discomfort? We'd be popping Percocet like it was candy.
But my baby was crying inconsolably. He was in obvious pain. Between Shawn and me we could not get him calm. Finally I trudged downstairs to get him a sippy cup of milk, hoping the cool, creamy elixir would provide some relief. Or at least make him sleepy again. Only we were 100% completely out of milk of any kind. The next day was our milk delivery day and we had polished off the milk at dinner the night before. Not only that but we were out of Pediasure as well. I had two bottles of chocolate Pediasure in the fridge - Dr. E had given me several Pediasure samples gratis at last week's weight check, which is good since that stuff is the price of gold. But I didn't really want to give him chocolate at 3 in the morning, know what I mean?!
Suddenly it dawned on me - perhaps the gods were smiling upon me and our milk delivery had already come. It was a far fetched hope as it was 3-something in the very, extremely, early morning. But I slid on Shawn's slippers and went to check our little cute wooden cooler box that sits on our front porch. Sure enough I saw a forwards and backwards set of footprints in the snow leading up to our porch. And the cooler-box filled with our order. I could have kissed the milkman if he were insight. But he was long gone. Only his footsteps and truck-tracks in the snow remained.
Quickly we poured Holden's milk into a cup, and ran it up the stairs. In the dark I placed it in his hands. He grabbed it, still crying, and gulped it down in a matter of seconds. Still in the dark I then heard him roll over onto his side, the crying now completely hushed, and fall back into a deep slumber. I tiptoed back to our room and did the same. The milkman having saved the night. Or rather, the extremely early morning.
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