Since Paolo is six months old, all of my baby books have instructed me to begin introducing certain fruits and vegetables. Which is very bittersweet for me as his mamma. It was hard enough to give him rice cereal; now vegetables and fruit!? Where is the time going? He is getting so big, and is so curious about everything. Anytime I have a glass of water, Paolo insists that I give him a sip from my glass. It is the cutest thing, watching him lap up a bit of water from my glass. How is my little baby boy growing so fast?
Well, the other day, I decided it was finally time to introduce the first fruit/vegetable. I decided to go with a sweet vegetable: sweet potatoes. As expected, he didn’t like it much:
This was his face for the entire ten minutes of my shoveling the bright orange pureed goo into his mouth. While he didn’t smile much, he did eat it all, and has eaten every serving I have given him since. He still won’t really smile for me until I break out the oatmeal or a boob, but at least he ate his first veggies! I think that pureed pear is next…Maybe he’ll like that a little better.
My five-month-old is already shaping up to be a little finicky. His tee-shirt really does say it all.
With this giant move across the country, I have had to abandon both my frozen breast milk (that would have been a logistical nightmare and possibly quite un-hygenic) and any semblance of a normal schedule (which includes any time to express milk) in California. Last night I decided that Paolo would be okay, just this one time, if I prepared his organic rice cereal with formula instead of breast milk.
Oh. My. Goodness. Was I ever wrong.
Paolo loves to eat, so he was very excited for his cereal. I seated him in his Bumbo chair, velcroed on his bib, and offered him the first spoonful. He, as usual, frantically leaned in to gulp it down. As the cereal hit his tongue, however, the most disgusted expression spread over his little face. I had never seen the child so repulsed. He scrunched up his face and started to gag. Literally gag. As if the cereal mixed with formula was the absolute most foul substance ever created and was obviously not meant for consumption. Now, I have seen him spit up before, of course. But gag, as in about to throw up, was something totally new. I had to scrape the remaining cereal from his tongue to cease the gagging. At first I thought that maybe it was just his initial reaction to the taste of formula. New flavors can be difficult to accept, so I decided to keep trying. Nope. The following two spoonfuls ended up the same way: me scraping them from his tongue.
So, my little guy is already picky. And he’s five months old. In order to get him to eat cereal, it must be mixed with only expressed milk. Guess we won’t be needing that can of “emergency” formula….Paolo knows what he wants, and it is all natural, baby.
How can something this adorable produce the stinkiest gas in the world?
The pediatrician informed us that one of the reasons Paolo is such a happy baby is that he doesn’t suffer from gas pain. And how did we know this? He is excellent at passing gas. A pro. (Before I had a baby, I would have thought this was too much information, but not now.) Having been exclusively breastfeed until recently, Paolo was able to free his stomach of any excess air without making a stink (literally), only some noise. Which was funny.
Oh my how things have changed. Since we introduced rice cereal,
Paolo still frees this tummy of excess air, except that now he makes a stink. An adult, make-your-eyes-water, non-baby-like stink. It is unbelievable. I chose all natural, whole grain, organic rice cereal as his first meal. And look where that got us.
So we picked up some regular cereal two days ago,
in the hopes that this would produce less potent gas. We’re still waiting to find out. All I know is, traveling with a baby that makes this caliber of stink can really get you some funny looks on an airplane. I’ve been told to just wait until he really starts eating “grown-up” food. Good gracious. We’ll need gas masks to survive.
Today I contributed to Butterfly: For Moms Who Want to Spread Their Wings. Check it out here!
So this morning I arrived to work thinking that I have on very cute and coordinated outfit. I have on a red, brown, and white dress over a brown slip, brown knee boots, and little white cardigan with pearls to top it off. Cute, right? Well, in theory, yes. Until I got to work and realized that I do not have on brown tights, but black ones. Yes, BLACK ones. Nice.
I guess this is what I get for breaking baby rules. Giuseppe and I have broken the major modern sleeping rule of putting baby to sleep alone in his crib and instead have a “family bed.” We usually put Paolo down to sleep in his cradle, which we have situated at the foot of our bed. BUT when he wakes up to nurse, we bring him in the bed with us, where he sleeps and nurses soundly until the next morning. Granting all of us a better night’s rest.
How does this relate to my mismatched stockings? Well, since the baby sleeps in our room, I do not turn on the lights when I get dressed because waking a sleeping bebe is one rule that I do not break. So I stumble around in the dark trying to find a matching outfit. Which, unfortunately, does not always work out.
Is it worth it? Absolutely.
Especially since I have gone back to work, the night time nursing seems to be something that Paolino is demanding even more. Since he was about 6 weeks old, he would wake up once during the night and then sometimes once very early in the morning to nurse. Sometimes he would even sleep straight through the night. When I went back to work, though, I noticed that he was waking up two to three times every night to nurse. And the days that I am home with him, with the ever-ready supply of baby food, he goes back to one nightly nursing session. I think he is trying to catch up on his nursing time during the week nights. (He’ll take the bottle, but definitely prefers to nurse with me. Which I am happy to do, but the timing is not ideal for my beauty rest.) The days I have work, I am usually awake a lot longer at night as opposed to the days when I can stay home. So I arrive to work a little sleepy. Wearing unmatching outfits.
But I have a snuggly, happy bebe and that makes everything worth it. Even breaking the rules.
I have been inspired to return from my hiatus from blogging. Since Paolo has been born, my absolute favorite thing to do is anything that involves snuggling/playing/talking with him. (Please notice that laundry, house cleaning, shopping, cooking, or blogging are not on that list. Although, lucky for Giuseppe I still fit them in every once in a while…)
So that is basically all I have been doing for the past 16 weeks. Well, not if you count each Monday and Wednesday in January, as I was back to work those days, or EVERY day this week: That’s right, I went back to work full time this month. I know FULL TIME. FULL TIME. One more time: FULL TIME. I always knew that I would want to continue to work when I had babies and I knew it would be hard, but whoa. Leaving my little one has been incredibly treacherous. Although, I should preface this with the fact that I have been truly enjoying my job and am happy to be there when I arrive. (AND! They let me take breaks to PUMP at work! I am so happy that I don’t have to put Paolo on formula! GO TEAM BREASTMILK!) All the same, saying good bye to my little schnuggly man is not, hmm how do I put this….easy. We’ll leave it at that.
The state of California has helped with our transition of me going back to work. (Yes, it’ s been a transition for all of us, Sofia included.) On Monday, Giuseppe began his six weeks of Paid Family Leave for Bonding Time.
Which. Is. Fabulous.
So, instead of having to leave the baby with a nanny right away, Paolo can stay home with his Papa’. Which actually is working out great. (Except for the very beginning, when I was working part time, and Giuseppe would call and put me on speaker phone to calm down the baby. Let’s just ponder how that made me feel….Not one little bit guilty. Ha.) But things have been going very well; Giuseppe is a natural. Have you seen “Meet the Fockers”? You know that breast that Robert de Niro dons to feed his grandson to avoid nipple confusion? Giuseppe wants one. Seriously. (It turns out that Paolo does prefer breastfeeding; he’ll take the bottle, but only VERY grudgingly.) How’s that for a fun photo. Giuseppe with a fake boob.
So, yes I am back from the blogging hiatus. I have been inspired by other mommy-bloggers.
That, and I started this entire website as a sort of modern photo book. This is something I that I want to keep, something I want to show my children as they grow.
So I am back.