The Boy turned a month old!

Technically on the 16th. But I've been too busy.

One month of baby love. There's been nothing but joy.

And sleepless nights.

And leaky boobs.

And the occasional disappointed baby from unmet concern.

And the staring strangers at the sudden public boob exposition.

And the frustrated mommy who couldn't figure out that he just needed a change.

The "Poop" face

This month really has been about change. No wonder people declare their children royalty. "My little princess", one facebook friend calls her totling. She forgets to sign out with her own new title: the groveling slave. Chris and I, former anarchists, are now the willing servants to this little dictator.

We set out to be as crunchy and natural as possible. We water birthed and lotus birthed. We cloth diapered the first week. We've been breastfeeding from the get-go. He was butt naked a lot for maximum skin-to-skin contact that first week too.

Then he got sick and we had to go to the hospital. On the way, we picked up a pack of disposables because the cloth diapers we have are lampins and these have very little to no absorbency and we couldn't risk soiling the hospital bed sheets. I'm making the most out of the situation though - I'm wrapping the dirty diapers into neat little sammich-looking packages for the stray dogs that tend to enjoy these stinkers.

Now, we're installing an AC unit in the house. It's a gift from Mamita, because the bentilador cannot handle this heat wave. We covered the vents up with plywood and are sealing the formaldehyde in. Chris wants to paint the new plywood over with tentacles. We're officially babyproofing.

There's still so much to be done, and too little cash to do it with, so we'll be having a garage sale soon with some friends at the house. There will be yogurt, poopveggie sammiches, and tons of second-hand goodies. Stay posted for details.

Meanwhile, our cats have all left us. Chris is ideologically against spaying/neutering our housemates, the same way he's against eating meat (secret Hindu!), so it's not very surprising that they'd grow up and want to move out. I'm a little heart broken, but I suspect I'll still be seeing them around... probably with kittens of their own... pushing little strollers. We'll bump into each other in the supermarket while buying diapers and pretend we didn't see. But in our heads we'll sing:

So much for finding ways for the cats and the baby to coexist.

At least we have the run of the house again.

Sigh.

As for breastfeeding, it certainly is no joke. It's like Hell Week at UP, except it's been a month. By the time I'm close to crashing, the difficulty level moves down a bit. It doesn't hurt anymore, but having to wake up every two hours has been frying my brain. The mamita got me a breast pump, which I finally got around to sterilizing and testing out. It's certainly not as natural as just latching baby onto the breast, but it's still better than formula.

Milestones: Baby is getting plumper and heavier by the day. Thank goodness for slings!

Looks good too.

Also, he makes conversation now. Just the other day, while breastfeeding...

Mommy: Nak, I should stop calling you gwapo.

Laya: *grunt*

Mommy: It might mess with your head when you grow up.

Laya: *grunt*

Mommy: Ive decided to just call you Overlord.

Laya: *unlatches* Oooh