Duh

So we've been having "bottle bootcamp" here at the Davis Wagner household. I was determined that this boy would stop being stubborn and evil and willful and horrible and mean and and let Mama have a night out and drink his bottle like a good boy. This is good milk I'm expressing! It's warm and good and we rock you and sing you funny songs and DRINK THE FLIPPING FLAPPING BOTTLE ALREADY.

Yeah, it was so totally my fault he wasn't taking the bottle.

I'd noticed that he would drink about an ounce before getting to the screaming point, where it became fruitless to keep trying. So why was it (sometimes) bearable for him until then? Why would he stop? Did he lose energy? Did he get frustrated? Could it be because I was still using the newborn nipples that let out one or two drops at a time?

Yeah, it could be that.

I leaped (lept?) ahead two nipple sizes (thank you, Colleen, for giving me all the different sizes!) and tried him on size 3. He drank the two ounces that were in the bottle.

So I've probably scarred him for life - he sees the bottle and starts whimpering. Now that I finally figured out what's wrong, he'll probably never agree to take it again. Who could blame him? If you came to me when I was hungry and dangled a bag of McDonalds french fries in front of me, and then gave me 1/8 of a fry at a time, I'd be pretty pissed at you, too.

Okay, now I need fries. Mmmmm....