I’ve always enjoyed cheese, yogurt, kefir, and ice cream. But not since childhood have I been able to embrace the drinking of large glasses of milk. Even as we began getting fresh unpasteurized cow and goat milk I resisted. Instead, I liked my raw milk cultured, especially in the form of milk kefir.

But one thing I have always embraced fully and lovingly is chocolate milk. Recently I’ve been making it by the pint when a craving strikes. Cocoa powder does not easily dissolve in ice cold raw milk, though, and we don’t keep chocolate syrup on hand, so I’ve devised a little work around using raw milk and (raw, if you wish) cocoa powder.

And sometimes, when I need a little boost, I add a few extra ingredients for added nutrition.

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Everything I’ve done over the past decade or so seems quite mundane when you look at it on paper. I grew up, went to college, got married, started a family – it all sounds quite usual, does it not? These days I am in the thick of raising our little ones, wading through the joy and the struggles and the lessons day-by-day. It is often intense, sometimes exhausting, and quite frequently hysterical.

But one of the most seemingly ordinary things to have occurred during these past eight years of child-rearing is one of the most thrilling experiences I have ever had.

I taught my child to read.

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