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You did it.  You fooled me.  Well, to be fair I think you believed it was true too but it wasn’t.  You convinced me that our precious little baby Adam wouldn’t take a bottle.

I believed you because I’ve tasted Isomil or whatever it is the doctor has him drinking now and guess what, it’s really, really, REALLY gross.  You believed you because you didn’t really want to give the baby a bottle for me–especially if it might take actual work.  In an effort to find enough time to do anything other than nurse this baby, however, I resolved to try a two-ounce bottle a day until I could get him to agree.

I succeeded on day one.  For future reference, here’s how it works.

The baby is crying and hungry.  You mix and warm up the bottle–not too hot.  Afterwards, you pick him up and put the bottle in his mouth.  He doesn’t like it too much because it’s a little bitter and, let’s face it, it’s rubber.  I mean how many sane men, young or old, ever said to themselves, “What I really want right now is a fake nipple”?  None, that’s how many.

Nevertheless, you keep the fake nipple in the baby’s mouth and you hold him gently.  Eventually he gets the idea that something that will cure his hunger pangs is dripping from it.  He begins to suck.

After a few minutes he may reject the bottle again.  Try burping him.  Whether he belches or not offer him the bottle in another minute or so.  He will probably protest but you will overcome!  Hold him close almost like you could nurse him yourself.  Give him a couple kisses on the head and a nuzzle while keeping said synthetic nipple full of bitter formula in his mouth.  In a second he’ll take it and you will have succeeded in giving your mother or wife a break.

For Pete’s sake.

If that’s not enough incentive think about how much sooner your own dinner will be on the table if I don’t need to drop what I’m doing every two hours to feed “The Gullet.”

Thank you.

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