The muppets take a bottle when they’re hungry. And they are hungry a lot. Destroy’s night nurse in the NICU used to call him “the alarm clock” because he’d wake up and scream every two hours and 45 minutes without fail.
As a friend of mine discovered with his little girl, “I guess that’s just the way babies are; they don’t know yet how to express the “you really should think about feeding me now” and instead go to “I’M DYING OF HUNGER! FEED ME ALREADY!!”
The muppets don’t breast feed. I’ve tried a handful of times. Both boys will take a few courtesty sips, seal their mouths shut and turn their head away. Then they’ll open their eyes and peer at me with an expression saying, “Ok, I’ve performed your dumb trick. Can I please have my bottle now? I AM HUNGRY!”
Yet, since they were so premature, I took the doctors advice to heart that breast milk is the best option for the little ones to grow up big and strong. From the very beginning, our nurses and doctors stressed that it would take serious dedication to provide mommy’s milk to NICU residents and continue on once they came home. “Make sure you pump every three hours at least,” they instructed.
Remember the schedule I told you about a mere week after they were first born? (Interesting note: at the time I shared that, the boys were eating precisely 2mL of milk every three hours.) I followed directions. Diligently.
Fast-forward two months. Gramma J offered to go to go grocery shopping for us (because that worked out so well last time…) With the muppets now home combined with my refusal to take them out among germy crowds yet, I accepted Gramma’s offer since there was no longer any food for parental types in the house.
There is plenty for the boys.
I reminded Gramma that we could not have any frozen food. She began to protest; Trader Joe’s has delicious, easy to prepare options. I clarified. We, quite literally, cannot store any frozen food at our house any longer.
That’s where all the boys milk is. Got milk?