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After 7 weeks Gina is back in tree pose again; she started teaching her full schedule effective Monday.  So I'm back to my solo act at night (obviously living with the in-laws it's not like I have to do it all myself, they are more than willing to assist, but I get satisfaction from being successful on my own).  Well, when the girls were this little Gina's class load was not nearly as big as it is now.  We didn't really have to worry about whether or not she'd be back in time to make the next feeding.  This time, with a 7 week old, the feedings are a little more frequent so we're figuring that part of things out.  I got the girls down no problem, but then Rosaline was starting to get fussy.  Gina was still an hour or so away from being home so I decided there was no time like the present to see if we can make the bottle work.  I don't know why I had any concern at all.  This kid knows how to eat.  Bottle?  Piece of proverbial cake.  It was a little interesting at first because she's used to a breast which is a "suck, suck, suck, milk" sort of a thing.  You have to work a bit before it comes and then work a little more before another batch comes, and so on and so forth.  With the bottle it's kind of "drink or drown kid".  It just comes flowing.  So she latched on and suddenly her eyes got really wide like "um. ... what's going on here?!"  It started flooding out of her mouth so I pulled it and gave her a chance to mentally process it all.  After that, though, she was a stud.  Like a seasoned frat boy chugging a 40, that bottle was toast in no time.  When Gina got home there were two in bed, one in a crib, lights out and Daddy with a cold Corona to reward his accomplishments.  That's right. ... that's how I roll ;)