Bottles
Friday December 19, 2025
Desmond has done pretty well drinking from bottles in his short life. But since Lindsay began getting clogged ducts about a month ago, she’s been exclusively breastfeeding. She goes back to work next week, so we’ve been trying to reintroduce Des to bottles.
It has not gone smoothly.
Apparently, it’s common for babies his age to resist bottle feeding, even if they’ve done it well in the past. We know this because we looked it up after he screamed and threw himself everywhere but on the nipple for 30 minutes when I tried giving him a bottle Monday night. If you had been walking by the front of the house, you might have wondered if an infant was being held to a curling iron. Goose, naturally, threatened to call Child Protective Services.
When I ran out of patience, Lindsay put him on his lap, and without so much as a peep, he drank up the last couple of ounces in the bottle. (His bib wore the first couple.) He maintained eye contact the entire time.
Parenthood, I’m sure, is full of hurt. I expect it years from now when Desi no longer wants to hear the vowel at the end of his name, or he’d rather eat at a friend’s house than ours. It seems unfair to be hurt by an infant, but damn it if his actions don’t feel personal sometimes. Instant cooperation with mom, conquistador derision for dad. Lindsay calls it communication. It feels like he’s communicating a middle finger right in the middle of my eyes. I know he’s not, but it’s poetic and magnificent and a little sad that this thing you made inherited such a power to hurt you.
Lindsay’s mom, Linda, is in town this week, so I wrapped up writing a bit earlier than usual this week. If you want to know how the return to the bottle has been going, you’ll have to ask.
One Person: Lindsay
Lindsay turned 33 on Wednesday, her first birthday as a mom. Desi is mostly an easy baby, and that is owed entirely to Lindsay being a supermom from the moment he was born. She’s handled every challenge, adapted to every “communique,” and is already molding Des into a sweet, happy little boy. We’re entering the chapter of our lives when we speak of ourselves and live our lives through our children. Lindsay, I believe, will never take credit for who Des becomes or claim his accomplishments, which I think will serve him very well in life. But I’ll know she’s due a lot of the credit. Happy birthday, monkey queen.
One Book: Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry
I don’t remember the last time I read every single word of a book, but that’s where we’re at with Lonesome Dove. I started it on Monday, and I’m only about 10% of the way through it because I’m reading it at a much slower pace than I typically do. (To be fair, it’s about 850 pages.) What a beautiful book. Rich characters. Gorgeous imagery of the Rio Grande. Ascetic philosophizing. I’ve been recommended Lonesome Dove many times, and I never really knew what the “Lonesome Dove” in question was. Getting to know this dusty antebellum border town is really wonderful. I’m not gonna start watching Yellowstone, but I might read All The Pretty Horses again.
One Song: Madonna - La Isla Bonita
On one of his bottle feeds this week, Desmond calmed when I walked and fed him at the same time. He was much more willing to eat as long as he was cradled in my arm as I walked around the house, while Lindsay hid in the guest bedroom. I’ve been listening to music in my noise-cancelling headphones while feeding him because I can’t deal with the screaming anymore, and I enjoyed the mental snapshot of grooving around the house to a silent “La Isla Bonita” with Des’ begrudging glare on me and a bottle shoved in his mouth. It’s the little things.
One Hollywood: Everybody Wants Some!!, for rent on Prime Video
Caught Stealing is a new movie on Netflix that I want to watch, but haven’t gotten around to yet. I’ve seen some chatter on the internet about how bad Austin Butler’s — who plays a former baseball prospect — swing is, which made me think of my favorite baseball movie. (And one of my favorite movies.) Competitive baseball culture is so hard to describe, but Everybody Wants Some!! is the best depiction I’ve seen. It’s simple and doesn’t try to do hardly anything except play baseball and be young. Beautiful.