Tales From The Daddy Detective Agency

The Case of the Rebuffed Bottle

Of all the nurseries in all the towns in all the world, she crawls into mine.

She was a short dame that was tall on looks; Uneven chestnut hair, like it never seen a single snip from a pair of scissors.

And those eyes… eyes so blue you want to dive in and swim around. Personality? She had that in spades. She was the…

Okay, enough dime store detective novel prose and on to the actual post.

It’s weaning time in the Barron household.

It was a tough decision, but Squeak is really growing and needs more that P.Pie is producing. Plus, as we wean The Squeak off the source and on onto formula fulltime, it reasons that I will be able to do more feedings.

You’d think, anyway.

When Squeak first came home, I would often pick up a late night feeding, using warmed breast milk. It was a great bonding opportunity for Squeak and I, plus P.Pie got a little extra sleep.

But not now.

The Squeaker has been unwilling to take a bottle from me… she’ll break bread with me, eat pureed food with me, and munch on rice puffs with me. But she won’t take a bottle from me.

I know, I know…maybe she’s having issues making the transfer to bottle fulltime. Nope, it’s just me. A very hungry girl will push away the bottle in my hand, but eagerly take it from P.Pie.

What gives? Why would a beautiful baby girl who otherwise loves her daddy refuse to take a bottle from him?

This looks like a job for the Detective Daddy!

So I threw on my deerstalker cap (see picture above), grabbed my cape and magnifying lens, then set about the chore of solving the Case of the Rebuffed Bottle (du-du-duhhhh-dummmmm).

I'd love to tell you that I put CSI agents to shame with my deductive reasoning.

I’d love say that I found the answer through hours and hours of research and theory testing.

Actually, I could tell you that and you’d just have to take it as gospel.

But the truth is, I practically fell over the answer while having a Daddy/Daughter night while P.Pie did a little shopping/bonding with a few of her friends.

After our usual evening routine (floor time/dinner/bath) I made Squeak a whopping 8oz bottle, scooped her up, and headed for her bedroom.
[ed. note: we’ve recently increased portion size from 4-6oz to 8oz… initially we didn’t think she’d eat that much, but she has repeatedly proven us wrong.]

I turned the lights down low and we relaxed into the recliner. Squeaker immediately bowed up; she did not want the bottle. She and I fought for several minutes – a back and forth of take the bottle/I don’t want the bottle.

The Squeaker won the battle, so we returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch. Just for giggles, I tried to give her the bottle again… lo and behold, she took it! In fact, I dare say she took it eagerly!

So it turns out, it was Colonel Mustard in the study with the… no, wait… that was a different Daddy Detective case.

After another test – recliner feeding vs couch feeding – with the same results, I have developed a theory; nine months worth of mom feedings in the recliner, she associates the recliner with P.Pie and no other will do in that chair.

So from now on, if Daddy’s feeding it will be on the couch.

And with that, Daddy Detective says, “Case closed!”