Bottle Snob

A few weeks ago I broke my trusty Ameda Purely Yours breast pump.  The poor thing had taken one too many blows to the floor as a result of my constant tripping over its cord and tubing, rendering it useless.  Having no backup, I had no choice but to nurse her exclusively (oh, right...there was also the option of putting her on Enfamil's new chocolate-flavored formula, but that stuff can get so costly!).  I finally went out and purchased a Lansinoh manual pump after reading some great reviews, and I'm pleased with it.  It works nearly as well as my electric one, but is a lot simpler and probably won't let me down if dropped on the floor a few times.  I imagine, also, that it will take my forearm extensor muscles to new heights.

Anyway, despite roughly three weeks of nursing, Buggy's form is still pretty touch and go, so to speak.  She has to be right on the brink of sleep to master it, otherwise it's a lost cause (and even more lost milk).  At this stage in her development, she's become really preoccupied with her surroundings, processing all the information she's taking in.  This is all well and good.  Great, really, except that, no matter how hungry she really is, she's unable to focus on the task at hand.  I've tried covering her face with a receiving blanket and have even formed a sheet tent over both of us to create a contained, private environment, but that tactic has only made her determined to pull and bat at the sheet.  This conflict of stimuli made the trip down to Asheville a bit of an ordeal; I stopped three times because her cries signaled to me that she was hungry.  However, each of these times, her big, inquisitive eyes caught sight of something and she'd have to crane her neck and look out at whatever it was - a gas station sign, telephone pole, tree, etc.  I knew I couldn't compete with these things, so I'd buckle her back in her seat and pull back out onto the highway, only to hear her cries resume five minutes later.

So I got the manual pump for such occasions.  Bottle feeding had really saved our lives on the 15-hour trip from Maine to Maryland, as we weren't having to stop every couple of hours to feed her.  Also, it's nice to have some extra milk stored in the refrigerator just in case I have to, say, leave Olive at home with my mother while I take our little gray cat, Wendell, to the vet because he's sickly again (when this did happen, Olive had fortunately just been fed and extra milk wasn't necessary.  Wendell was fine, too - just a victim of a flea infestation and weight loss incurred from the alpha cat hogging his food while my dad watched them while we were in NC).  

Today I'd been using the new pump and filled a bottle for Olive because she was pulling some of her usual tricks, but - wouldn't you know? - she refused the bottle.  I warmed the nipple and stuck it in her mouth, and she rejected it, scrunching up her face in disgust.  I'm going to have to work on getting her reacquainted and on good terms with the bottle, otherwise we're in for a very long, and far less pleasant, trip back to Maine next month.