Wait a Minute…

You guys, sometime last week we stopped giving her a bottle.  She’s okay with it.  Can I tell you how much quiet angst this has given me?  I mean, I didn’t even want to tell you guys that, horror of horrors, RR was STILL having a morning bottle at 20 months.  That’s almost two!  As much I was worried about how we were ever going to move to a cup, I didn’t even ask our doctor for suggestions AND I told D to lie if asked.  I know, I’m that person but I’m assuming you and I aren’t breaking up over that.  Our doctor is superb.  She lets us call her at home on the weekend which I suspect is because she knows that we’d only do that if we were actually dying (which has happened only once thank goodness).  Though we’ve been chided more than once for NOT calling.  If that’s not a reason to move here and be my friend, I don’t know what else is.  Still, I didn’t want to tell her.

The point is, only a couple of people knew we were still bottle feeding and they were all very tsk tsk tsk.  Whatever.  Their brilliant, shining personalities otherwise make up for it.  But NOW the point is that we aren’t anymore.  We can’t celebrate really, since we were keeping it on the down low to begin with, but it’s cause for amazement and yes, sigh, fist-bumps (do wives even do that?  fist-bump?) at our house.  There was a minimum of fuss involved given the epic tantrums we’ve had of late.  The one she had the first day only rated a 4 or so on the Richter scale.  We only needed to steel ourselves minimally.  See, she has been waking up at the ungodly hour of 5am every morning and we were hoping that by taking away the warm bottle incentive, she’d sleep longer.  FYI, we were completely wrong, but still, a cup it is!

Just like all of her other pivotal skills, this was happening before we even had a chance to notice it.  She’s sneaky like that, is RR.  And since I’m a worrywart, she’s keeping me constantly on my toes.  Who can complain?  No more bottle!

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