Growing

In case you were skeptical about the extent of the Sprout's growth, we present to you the following evidence.

Physical growth aside, today involved multiple milestones. But before any of those arose, I took a few hours' leave for work/eating-related purposes. The female folk held down the home fort admirably.

When I returned, the Sprout said she wanted to eat forever. A couple of hours later, we said she'd have to put her eternal feed on hold for a bit so we could walk to Wayland Square.

Getting the Sprout used to the stroller now seems likely to produce future benefits, so we strapped her in for a test run. She seemed uncertain but willing to give it a go.

Given her apparent willingness, we zipped her into her polar bear suit and re-strapped her into the stroller. And it wasn't too long before the stroller wheels were acquainted with the oh-so-familiar Angell Street sidewalks. The Sprout waved hello.

We stopped first at CVS, but the Sprout and I fled when she said in her inimitable way that she'd rather be elsewhere. It turned out that where she really wanted to be was anyplace she could feed comfortably.

That place ended up being L'Artisan Cafe. Our visit there led to the Sprout's most public yet (if still quite discreet) feeding. The rest of us joined her, having wraps and drinks.

The Sprout seemed content but then shouted some on the walk home. So Summer squeezed in another feeding before undertaking her most significant Sprout-less outing yet, meeting friends for dessert in honor of a 30th birthday.

The Sprout protested.

Her grandma and I tried to calm her, but she said she'd rather just scream until her mother returned to provide a proper feeding. Little things worked for short times. The gas game, for example.

Also somewhat helpful: another turn in the wrap on the stationary bike, a stuffed Very Hungry Caterpillar, dancing with grandma and me to Raffi. At one point the Sprout even took 2½ ounces from a bottle. But each of these ended in cries for her mother.

Who returned. Bearing gifts.

So the Sprout was sated, and grandma and I were, too.