I sort of want to declare victory regarding the Battle of the Bottle, except that I'm afraid I'll be like W., all up there on the aircraft carrier with the big "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED" sign, apparently totally unaware of the years of "oops, guess that war wasn't quite over" yet to come.
With that said, we seem to have accomplished quite a bit over the weekend.
Friday, I went to work. My husband was home on a school break, so he decided that it was time to bring this thing to a head and see if he could wait Baby Girl out long enough to make the bottle her only option. Wisely, he sent me away when I got home at lunchtime, as I would have totally caved once I heard her crying to eat.
It took about five hours, but she finally did it. It seems that heating up the milk much warmer than we had been was the key difference. And he squirted a little milk into her mouth before putting the bottle in. By last night, she was happily eating from the bottle even when I was in the room. Major progress.
Meanwhile, I had bought two other brands of bottles, so we're just hanging on to those in case "Mission Not So Accomplished After All" hits us later on.
Tomorrow his school break is over, so that's the next front: seeing if she'll take the bottle from her caregiver.
Ah, the things that bring me excitement these days.