The Bottle

Audrey took a bottle the first time we tried it. And she took it like a trooper. No fuss. No tears. No vacuum. Yes, we had to have the vacuum running in order for Natalie to take a bottle at first. It was the only noise that distracted her enough from her own protesting wails and screams. So, this time around, we braced ourselves, held our breath and introduced Audrey to 3 ounces of pumped breast milk wondering what drama our second born had in store for us. No problem what-so-ever. Thank you, Audrey.

Natalie had curiously watched me pump a few days before and kept asking every hour on the hour when we were going to feed Audrey the bottle. She was excited to be part of Audrey's audience when the time came. But the best part was the conversation the next morning at breakfast:

Natalie (as she's drinking a glass of milk): Where did this milk come from?
Me: The refrigerator
Natalie: No, where did it come from?
Me (still clueless): The grocery store.
Natalie: No, Mommy, where did it COME from, really?
Me: You mean, originally?
Natalie: Yes
Me: A mommy cow.
Natalie: A COW?
Me: Yes, a cow.
Natalie: So, Audrey gets her milk from your bra and I get milk from a COW?
Me: Yes...I know it sounds totally weird (and I'm, of course, thinking it IS totally weird) but that's the kind of milk most people drink once they're not babies anymore.
Natalie: That's crazy.

I'm not a fan of dairy to being with...Natalie's shocked expression at her new found knowledge didn't help matters at all! I could switch her to soy milk...but I don't even know how I'd begin to explain getting milk from a bean!