The week started off rough. I've had this loose plan in my head to give Elliot a bottle every day, to use up some outdating milk in the freezer and to get him ready for Miss Renee who will be watching him in a few weeks... well, timing was bad, or whatever, and I failed at this attempt for a while. Unconsciously, I have stopped giving him bottles and took for granted that he always took them. So, yep, you guessed it, he is refusing the bottle now.
We are at the 3 weeks 'til show time mark, so we needed to get down to business with getting him on a bottle. Monday was an all-out battle between him and me. I tried midday, thinking that he wouldn't be grumpy and this is when Renee will be giving them. After 30 minutes of absolutely the worst tantrum he has ever given me, and about half a dozen good, concerted efforts, I gave up and nursed him. Of course, he was grand after that and in great form. He got what he wanted. Peh. Elliot:1, Mom:0. I mean it was sobs and screams while he laid his head on my shoulder that went into hyperventilating. We have a stubborn one, it seems. And I realized after the fact that he was digging his heels in just as much as I was which was not a solution.
After putting out an APB to other parent contacts and receiving tons of tips, I felt the frustration fizzle and Pat and I braced ourselves for a task that had to be tackled.
Tuesday... Pat attempted a sippy cup first and then a bottle. After I sat here for 1 hour and 45 minutes listening to him scream, then Pat comforting him, then more screaming, FINALLY Pat walked back into the room with an exhausted, asleep baby on his shoulder and an empty bottle. Elliot:0, Dad:1. I was pretty impressed with Pat's efforts and determination since I had not been successful the night before. But I should have left the house instead of sitting there listening and stressing. The only thing that gave me perspective was realizing that Pat was the one in the midst of the tantrum and was the one who had to stick it out, no matter what; thus he was worse off than me who was simply listening.
The aftermath of the showdown between Pat and Elliot.
Here's hoping that the battles lessen and we are on to greener pastures. I had really not realized how attached he had become to me, so it's good that we're nipping this in the bud.
On Monday, we have a CPR class and Claire and Martin (with Diane) are watching Elliot. I realized as I started to organize what they would need to know that we have never left him for someone else to put to bed-- we've always gone out during the afternoon. That might be another adventure...