When it comes to passing along picky eating habits, I was convinced I’d be handing down a legacy of discerning taste buds to my kids. On my first date with my husband, I chose a diner based on their chicken fingers, which I deemed acceptable. I didn’t even try a salad until I reached my twenties, and my first strawberry didn’t make an appearance until 2009.
Over time, I’ve become more adventurous with food. I’ve even revisited items I once deemed inedible. Now, as an adult, I enjoy a variety of foods, including Brussels sprouts, which would have horrified my younger self. But let’s be real; some things remain unpalatable, no matter how mature you become. Grape-flavored liquid medicine is one of those things. Even now, at 30, I struggle to swallow that stuff. So I can’t blame my son for responding as if I were offering him poison when it’s time for his cough syrup.
When he was a baby, administering medicine was a breeze. Just lay him back, pop in the syringe, and dispense the honey-flavored nonsense right down his throat. Easy peasy! But as he grew and gained control over his limbs, I had to rethink my approach. Enter bribery—something I never imagined I’d resort to as a parent. However, ensuring he gets the rest he needs with effective antibiotics became paramount. I offered candy, screen time, toys, and even candy during screen time with toys.
Unfortunately, I soon realized that kids are perpetually sick. I couldn’t keep draining our savings on medicine and bribes. Time to pivot.
I attempted the authoritative angle: “You must take this medicine. You’re not leaving the table until you do.” That led to a two-hour standoff with no progress to show. I tried gentleness, “Sweetheart, this medicine is important; it will help you feel better. Come sit with me.” He sniffed out my weakness and clamped his lips shut.
Desperation led me to lies: “This stuff is like liquid candy! So tasty! Made of sugar!” Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t fooled. How is it fair that kids can outsmart their parents before we even hit midlife?
I felt utterly defeated. My son would never take medicine, and I’d be doomed to sleepless nights, listening to him cough or whine about a fever. I imagined a future with a perpetually snotty child, and it was bleak.
Then, I decided to get creative. I sat him down at the table with a cookie, some juice, and his medicine. I leveled with him: “This medicine is going to taste terrible, but this juice is delicious, and this cookie is amazing, so let’s do this.”
Suddenly, I was hit with high school flashbacks—when cheap alcohol was just as unpalatable. At parties, I’d stash a bottle of orange soda to wash away the burn. I started drumming on the table, building a rhythm. He looked puzzled but joined in, and soon we were laughing and drumming harder, getting hyped up for the dreaded medicine.
“Alright, buddy. Three steps: take the medicine, drink the juice, and eat the cookie. Then it’s done!”
There was no fight, just a silly kid ready to follow his mom’s lead. I know I essentially taught my three-year-old how to take a shot, but honestly? I’m okay with that. He did it! He downed the medicine, chased it with juice, and gobbled the cookie. Victory!
As I look ahead, I can only hope that when he turns 21 and takes his first drink (totally his first ever, right?), he’ll wave at the bartender and say, “Juice and cookie, please.”
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Summary
Convincing my toddler to take his medicine turned into a hilarious journey of creativity and persistence. From bribery to rhythm drumming, I learned that sometimes, a little fun can make all the difference in getting kids to do what’s necessary for their health.