Greatest Triumph Ever

Well, that's what April calls it. We finally got V to take the bottle. All it took was an 18 hour starving session. Here's the history of what was the most trying week in V's short existence:

For two solid weeks, every time we gave her the bottle she would scream and/or cry. It wasn't necessarily the most fun we've ever had with her. There's not something that I can think of off the top of my head that is more trying/frustrating/infuriating/insert-'ing'-word-here than watching your child refuse food. You know it's good for her and she's going to like it once she gets it, but the process hurts. I liken it to riding a bike: You fall many times and skin a few knees but you're awesome once you learn it. Same with the bottle. Many knees were skinned.

So we get to last Thursday and it's Dad's job to essentially starve the child into submission. It takes literally 18 hours from the time she ate on Wednesday at 8:00 pm to about 2:00 on Thursday for her to take the bottle. But her father is the Greatest Child Feeding Technician West of the Pecos a consummate professional and stuck through it. Then she took another one 4 hours later. Yup, Dad is DA COOLEST!

The real test was the next day when it was Mom's turn. She went ahead and took the bottle for her too though. Then the actual test was the day after when it was the babysitter's turn. She took it then too. So now she's a bottle-feeding freak. She can down 5 ounces in less than 5 minutes. So there it is, the demons have been vanquished and we have immersed victorian. Here are some celebratory pictures:

That's right, she can be taught!

We told her to blow bubbles... She's learning.

Her true feelings about bath-time are unmistakable.

First picture with all three of our pets together!

Photographic proof that V enjoys the outdoors.

Coolest. Dog. Ever. (But not really...)