Tonight, we meant to go to the bimonthly gaming night we often attend (Eric more than me). It's held at a local coffee shop from seven to eleven. It was going to be Chloë's first big non-family outing. However, we didn't make it because Miss Overlord currently wishes to be fed every hour and twenty minutes, on average. Since she nurses for forty-five minutes, on average, I know the nursery very well right now. And since she decided to take a nice long nap and then a nice long dinner, we decided it wasn't worth the trouble to pack up a couple of bottles (since I'm nowhere near coordinated enough to nurse in public yet) and dash out as soon as she finished in the hopes of arriving before she was hungry again.
Luckily we had our last lactation consultant appointment yesterday, or I'd have been extremely concerned about this behavior. But the consultant not only pointed out that this was due to growth-spurty goodness, but weighed Chloë (ten pounds two ounces in a onesie and a diaper, up eight or nine ounces from seven days ago) and gave me some advice and information that make me reasonably confident that we're going to get through this okay. As long as it ends before I have to completely redecorate.