The Wicked Bottle

We went out, leaving our little one for the first time last night. Well. The first time where he would have to take a bottle.

I was a nervous momma when we left. I fed the baby and then handed him over to Grammy for the usual hour or so of evening fussiness where he refuses to nap or sleep. (To us these 2 hours so much better than before, but others can find it stressful.) Then I made sure I had my phone on me at all times.

We got to the PAC early and enjoyed a time of chatting with our friends. (We had opted not to dinner before because it would mean leaving the boy for 2 feedings and I couldn't emotionally handle that yet).

I kept my phone on silent and in my lap. I obsessively checked it to see if my mom had called. After awhile I was mesmerized with the Wicked show. Waking up during intermission I called.
The boy hated the bottle. He thought Grandma was being wickedly mean to him so he took just enough to stave off hunger.

We enjoyed our show, got home, and fed the baby.
He then slept for 5 hours. He has been doing 4-5 hours a feeding and then 4 or so more hours this past week.

It feels like a wickedly good nights sleep lately.
Funny how your perspective changes.