Tuesday, 28 April 2009

The Bottle Thing

Today has been a bad day.

It all started last night. Mummy and Daddy were watching a programme about George Best and his Mum. It was a bit boring. They kept talking about people with drink problems. I understood exactly what they meant. After all, it took me ages to work out how to drink properly.

Anyway, they started to watch less and talk more and eventually Dad said:

"When are you thinking of trying the bottle on our little girl?"

"I just don't know" said Mummy. "On one hand I think it would be good to get her used to it. Ruth said that it gets harder the longer you leave it. On the other hand, I love feeding her."

I knew that Daddy would start talking next because Mummy only has two hands.

"It's your choice Love" he said, but I'd love to try and feed her once she is on the bottle."

That seemed to swing it for Mummy and they decided that today would be the day. I wondered what this all meant, and I got so tired thinking about it that I fell asleep for ages. When I woke up everything was dark and I started crying. I think this annoyed Daddy because he said that he wished Mummy had woken me up before he went to bed so he could get a good night's sleep before work. She smiled and said that if things went to plan then he could make those decisions very soon.

Anyway, during today I kept hearing funny things going on. First of all I knew something odd was up when Mummy called Grandma Betty for some advice. It was all about sterilising and how many minutes it needs to be in for. I had no idea what it was, but those germs sound horrible. I hope they aren't the same ones Daddy says are coming to visit from Mexico.

Then Mummy called her friend Sue about the best way to get started. And they kept talking about teats and rubber and heat.

I got pretty bored during all this. So I cried. Which made me hot. Which made me cry more. And it was only when Mummy took me for a wash with the wet cotton wool that I felt a bit better.

And then Daddy came home. They were both very excited and there was lots of rushing in and out of the kitchen measuring things and then a lot of loud noise from the pump thing that Mummy had also been discussing with Sue. She said it felt weird. Daddy said it looked weird nd kept looking away. But I found the noise quite comforting.

Finally, Daddy picked me up and I rested in that nice bit under his shoulder and leaned back. He pushed some cloth under my chin and then it happened. He stuck something revolting in my mouth. It took me a second or two to react. It was huge and hard and cold. It was a funny light colour. It felt all funny and nothing like Mummy. I tried to spit it out but he held it there. So I just screamed with all my might and he took it out. I was actually quite shocked and cried for a bit longer.

"I think you should have left it there" said Mummy.

"But she hated it" said Daddy. "I just couldn't do that to her."

"Let me have a go" she replied.

So we went through the whole process again, but this time I was on Mummy. Which was worse. Because that thing was still horrid. But she held it there for ages until I had to swallow, and it was cold and not at all like normal milk. And I could smell Mummy's milk really close by. Eventually I just started to cough a lot and the experiment finished for the evening.

I'm not sure what to do next. I had a nice feed with Mummy to get me off to sleep. But I can't help worrying that the bottle thing will return tomorrow.

Why do things have to change?

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