I'm pinned under a child. I'm amazed that I can type this, as I am holding Arthur in my right arm. At any moment we expect a Guatemalan baby sling to arrive in the mail. This will be a good thing, as it will free both of my hands. I'll admit that the stick the finger in the baby's mouth to trick him into thinking it is a nipple has lost its appeal (for me at least) because Arthur's sucking reflex is strong enough to take off fingernails. I've gotten to the point I sometimes look down at Arthur and think, "Augh!! There's a parasite latched onto my index finger!"
Last night (Wednesday) was Arthur's First Full Moon and the First Full Moon of Summer. We thought we might be able to see moonrise. Mark and I put him in his pram and were pushing him down a street near our house, minding our own business, when we walked by a mother and her six-month old. The mother was watering her front yard garden. The six-month old rode in a pack on her mother's back.
We got to talking. "What formula are you using?" she asked. The next thing we knew, she was offering to pump milk for Arthur. Her partner thought she was a little crazy as she wrote down her name and phone number for us. It was sweet, but at the time I must have had a odd look on my face.
We knew it was only a matter of time before the Secret Society of Mothers Who Pump Breast Milk would contact us.
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