Growing Boy

Two nights ago, I had a hard time letting my parents know what I wanted. I tried hard, I really did, but they could not figure it out. See, I'm on another growth spurt and need more milk than I did a week ago. The night in question, my parents gave me the usual 110cc feeding around 9pm, but I was still hungry. They figured this part out and gave me another 40ccs around 10pm, but I was still hungry. I cried and cried, but they could not figure it out -- they changed me, they put me in one of the myriad of entertaining swings and bouncy seats that are around the house, they rocked me, they rubbed my back and tummy. In short, they did everything but what I wanted -- I was hungry and wanted more food. A little after 11, all other possibilities were exhausted and they tried feeding me again -- another 110ccs. Ah, sweet relief.

I think now they've figured out that I'm growing and need more food than what I've had up until now. They sometimes give me 125ccs at a sitting, which is a lot even for me. Still, I'm pretty happy. I have a bib that says, "Joy is a full tummy." Isn't that the truth.