It has been a month of many firsts. On the 4th of July, while we gathered on lawn chairs at the local park to await the start of fireworks, Paolo held a bottle all by himself. It's so funny that something so small could be such a big deal, but I couldn't help remembering when he was just a newborn and comparing it to how independent he is becoming now.
We took him to a duck pond, which turned out to be a much more disgusting experience than I'd imagined (somehow I only recalled the fun of tossing bread to the birds and not the *extreme* amount of bird crap that covers a place like that). We got a good laugh as a goose chased us around the pond, and even though I don't know if Paolo even knew what was going on, he seemed to enjoy it.
He's getting his first tooth. Now I can safely blame his bad sleeping habits on teething. My husband and I actually had a bet on where the first tooth would appear (I said bottom and he said top). The loser has to be the tooth fairy. Well Paolo's bottom front left tooth is about a third of the way out now and I won! :) I actually don't think Paul's going to mind being the tooth fairy - I think he's just worried about waking him up while trying to get under the pillow. Paolo's still sleeping through the night but his naps are getting shorter, even at daycare, and I just bought some baby orajel to see if that will help soothe those sore gums.
He can sit up now without balancing on his hands. He hasn't actually sat up on his own yet, but if we sit him somewhere he can stay for a pretty long time. He can even stand while holding on to something! I can't believe how big he has gotten. I usually carry him on my left side so I can use my right hand to do other things, but since he's gotten so heavy I'm starting to think I should switch off so I don't become muscularly lopsided.
Now that Paolo is 8 months old I'm counting down the days until I can stop pumping. It isn't so bad at home, but at work it's probably one of the strangest things I could be doing. I walk to this room with my pump bag and a small insulated bag with a blue ice to store the milk. Everyone that sees me knows where I am going which is just weird. Then I check to make sure the room is empty - it is full of filing cabinets and 2 printers - put a sign on the door and lock it shut. I lift my shirt, pull open my nursing bra, set the timer on my phone for 10 minutes and proceed to pump as much milk as I can. I feel like I'm doing some kind of secret science experiment as I pour, measure, seal bottles and put them in the cooler. I repeat this twice more at work and once before I go to bed at night.
I sometimes feel like my life has become a routine of nursing, pumping, diaper changing and cleaning bottles, with some time for my family left at the end. I really do enjoy the time that we have though. When I was pregnant I always imagined what it would feel like to hold, love and raise a baby, but I never knew how much I would adore watching my husband do the same. Watching them bond is almost as much fun, and Paul is a great father to our son. He does so much that I know he would share in the nursing duties if that were physically possible. As a mother there are some things that only I can do, but he makes me feel like I never have to do them alone. That's exactly the kind of partner I need to get through this crazy schedule.
