On Her Flying Trapeze

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

A Line in the Milk

Picture 015The Big-O has put his fat foot in the downward position and there will be no more milk today…… at least not from a bottle. Since the sweet little fat man was born 3 months ago he has been given a bottle at least once a day, every day, to ensure the freedom of his moveable feast - namely myself. Our older daughter, whom I will refer to as Little-C because although more than two years his senior she is soon to be dwarfed by his massive manly girth, stopped taking a bottle at age 4 months, nary to touch it again. We thought it was our fault. If only we had bottle-fed her daily as per the instructions of our dear friend Dr. Weissbluth, we would have been able to go on a date lasting longer than 3 total hours during the first year of her life. So last night we won tickets to see a Buster Keaton double feature at the Paramount in Seattle with live organ accompaniment. Our lovely and fabulous neighbor Judi agreed to watch the kids and we assured her that Big O was "great" at taking a bottle. (Is it considered a lie if you really believe what you're saying is true? I guess it depends on if you're the one who said it and ran off to the movies or the one left at home with someone else's kids -7 months pregnant- walking the floor with the biggest 3 month old in recorded history)

When we got home, I apologized profusely to Judi and quickly gave Big-O one his favorite appendages to calm him down. Then I began to think. If he's hungry enough, "they" always say, he'll eat what is offered to him. So when he woke up 9 hours later, my husband tried to feed him as I ran out to a doctor's appointment. No luck. The latex bottle was repeatedly ejected. "Oooooh no," says I, "I will not lose a battle of wills to a 3-month old. Hours later, dancing on the line between no-nonsense parenting and child abuse, I finally gave in. Out came the appendages and he is napping soundly.

Now what do we tell our babysitter tonight? Whatever it is may be classified as a half-truth of some variety. My lovely husband has planned a surprise date to commemorate our not having gone on one for as long as we can remember. I really hope he hired someone instead of trading with one of our friends. I'll top off the Big-O before Dan and I dash off into a world of eternal romantical bliss for 4 hours. (Don't question the use of the word eternal; it makes the date more enjoyable if you pretend it isn't going to end) Then maybe the teenager he's hired will actually earn the 8 bucks an hour we have lately been obliged to shell out.

2 Comments:

Blogger mom on a wire said...

Hey, neither of my kids EVER took a bottle, so consider yourself lucky to have gotten this far!

8/30/2005 2:34 PM

 
Blogger Cas said...

Nell shortly and sharply started rejecting a bottle last month. She also rejected a sippy cup....except to break my previously hard and fast "no juice" rule. She will now take a hit or two of juice out of a sippy cup...but mostly holds out for the boob. But, to be honest, the boob is second in line to anything we are eating for her most favourite thing to put in her mouth ever.

10/20/2005 12:14 PM

 

Post a Comment

<< Home