For every "first", there is a "last".

Bottles.

Anthony became a bottle-fed baby at 2.5 days old. I don't know that he adored them as much as Matthew did. He didn't inhale them with the same gusto. He didn't demand more than the "normal" amount. But during many aches and pains, and periods of teething hell, it was his bottle that helped him feel at ease. It helped us all go back to sleep a little faster at 12am (and sometimes 3am, and 5am...). It was our daily equation. Anthony + bottle = content baby.

On Tuesday, May 17, Anthony drank his last bottle. He was starting to get fussy as it was nearing bedtime. I asked him if he wanted "ba-boo" and he smiled. It was 6:37pm when I warmed it for him. We sat in the living room and he drank. Typically we would have been on our bed, watching Mickey or Oso (his faves). He drank about 5 of the 7 ounces I made, slid off me and resumed playing.

That night, as I rocked him to sleep, he took his mo-mo out and smiled. He was a little restless. I asked if he wanted ba-boo again and he laughed. I warmed a couple ounces of milk, but not in his bottle. I'm not sure what made me use the Nuby (transitional) sippy, but I did. He was a bit unsure at first. He'd take a couple sips, spit it out, and giggle. But he didn't hate it. So that was that. The next morning, his Avent bottles were put away.

Just like that, we no longer have a bottle-feeding baby. We often get so hung up on the "firsts", we hardly give any attention to the "lasts". I will never forget his last bottle feeding.