The gaping maw

2 Feb

Our baby is now 7 weeks old, almost two months! In response to some problematic eating habits he’s developed over the last week or so, my ever-cautious wife took him to the pediatrician. Doctor is great, but it seems that we never get the timing for feeding the little one right. As a result, every time we take him in, he’s hungry. So she must think we never feed the baby.

Plus, when asked about his weight, baby mama over-reported (10 lbs 9 oz last week). Since he has a cast on now, it’s hard to guesstimate his actual weight. Nevertheless, a weighing in the doctor’s office prompted our pediatrician to tell us that he seems a bit underfed, not gaining enough weight. Which, incidentally, seems COMPLETELY INSANE to me, as I have now found myself calling our baby Little Fatty Cheeks, the Fat Man, and Holy God are you the Cutest Little Chubby Infant I’ve Seen EVAAA!1!.

But I digress. She basically suggested we supplement with formula, a suggestion she’s hinted at before but now has an occasion for implementing her suggestion more authoritatively.

As a result, we are now treating every time the baby opens his mouth as a potential feeding moment. I’m now wearing a bottle of formula around my neck like Flavor Flav and his clock. When Brooklyn Baby cries, coos, burps, or screams, there I am, poking him with a bottle.

This boy is going to have oral fixation issues, I have a feeling.

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