It has been tough and I can't say that I'm looking forward to the next time, but I seem to have won the feeding war.
After two days when every feed started with the bottle thing and ended with me in tears, Mummy and Daddy have decided to let me carry on feeding from Mummy for another few weeks. Which is really a whole lifetime away.
Last night they tried to work out why I didn't like it from the bottle thing when its exactly the same as Mummy's milk. I wanted to tell them that was just silly. My usual milk is warm and comes out all nice and perfectly for me. The bottle thing just makes it feel horrible and tastes like chewing Grandma Betty's finger after she's done the washing up.
Daddy compared it to drinking beer out of a can or a glass. Mummy didn't agree, but she seemed quite happy all the same. She said it makes her feel even closer to me, and I know just what she means.
I also saw the doctor yesterday. Apparently I'm a bundle of good health and I weigh more than when I was born. And he said that Mummy was in good shape but she looks a little tired. I wonder why that is?
In the evening Daddy watched the football again. I worked out from his noises that it was Arsenal. But he didn't seem very happy to be watching it. He just kept mumbling and biting his fingers. At the end he said "We've lost the battle but not the war". Mummy said, "Just like us and Daisy's bottle".
I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but I had a lovely feed lying on Mummy in the most comfy position you can imagine. She smelled lovely. I must have slept solidly because when I woke up everything was dark and Daddy was snoring. I had to cry to wake them up. Daddy woke up first and changed my nappy. He said he'd never seen anything like it ... he calls it the mustard factory. When I was clean and tidy he handed me to Mummy for some more milk. I dreamed about a walk in the buggy. What a lovely night.