Fickle little monkey
When I first went back to work, Riley refused to take a bottle. When Andy came anywhere near him with a bottle, Riley screamed in that really horrible, "oh my god, he must be really hurt!" panic-inducing way that only a baby can scream. He eventually relented and learned to love the bottle...a little too much.
To my great dismay, my little bottle-feeder started to refuse the breast last month. I was traveling a lot for work which meant that he was missing half it not all of his mommy feedings on most days. So he went on strike. He basically declared that if I was not going to be available to him on the schedule I promised when I went back to work, then he was no longer going to breastfeed. Harumph!
Always the campaigner, I slowly and carefully plotted to earn my way back into his good graces. I tried to get him to breastfeed, but always relented with a bottle upon demand. I held, rocked, and sang to him in a nursing pose for hours a day. I even arranged my work schedule so that I could spend most of two weeks at Riley's side all day.
Well the relentless campaigning paid off. He started breastfeeding again and, as an unexpected bonus, he started doing it much more efficiently than ever before. Hour long feedings have morphed into 20 minute sessions. Now that's what I call a compromise.
However, all of that TLC may have backfired. When I went back to the office today, Riley again refused to take a bottle. And that boy has got conviction. He literally refused to eat -- not one drop -- for more than seven hours until I came home.
Oy. It looks like we are back to square one. And it looks like I've got a little activist on my hands. Next thing I know he'll be marching around the living room chanting, "No mommy, no eat!" "What do I want? Boobie! When do I want it? Now!" "If I don't get no boobie, you don't get no peace!" Maybe he does resemble me after all!
To my great dismay, my little bottle-feeder started to refuse the breast last month. I was traveling a lot for work which meant that he was missing half it not all of his mommy feedings on most days. So he went on strike. He basically declared that if I was not going to be available to him on the schedule I promised when I went back to work, then he was no longer going to breastfeed. Harumph!
Always the campaigner, I slowly and carefully plotted to earn my way back into his good graces. I tried to get him to breastfeed, but always relented with a bottle upon demand. I held, rocked, and sang to him in a nursing pose for hours a day. I even arranged my work schedule so that I could spend most of two weeks at Riley's side all day.
Well the relentless campaigning paid off. He started breastfeeding again and, as an unexpected bonus, he started doing it much more efficiently than ever before. Hour long feedings have morphed into 20 minute sessions. Now that's what I call a compromise.
However, all of that TLC may have backfired. When I went back to the office today, Riley again refused to take a bottle. And that boy has got conviction. He literally refused to eat -- not one drop -- for more than seven hours until I came home.
Oy. It looks like we are back to square one. And it looks like I've got a little activist on my hands. Next thing I know he'll be marching around the living room chanting, "No mommy, no eat!" "What do I want? Boobie! When do I want it? Now!" "If I don't get no boobie, you don't get no peace!" Maybe he does resemble me after all!
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