This month, I have learned that newborns do, indeed, smile.
That it is possible to get poop on one's socks, and not be bothered by it.
That sleep deprivation really isn't that bad if you never get into a deep sleep.
The dog is more patient than I had ever imagined.
That the best time to knit is in the car, since I know how long I will have based on how far we're going.
That I don't miss being pregnant, and I hate all of my maternity clothes.
That my baby cannot mess his pants discreetly. He prefers to let the whole room know.
That there is a right and a wrong way to put on a cloth diaper, and I am more likely to do it wrong in the middle of the night.
That breastfeeding ain't so bad, once you get the hang of it.
Baths can be fun, once you're sharing them with a little monster who kicks his legs and splashes.
I think the most important thing I've learned, though, has more to do with Dave than it does with Gus. My love for Dave grew exponentially in the days after the birth, and it continues to grow. I feel so lucky to be married to a man who is so strong, so hard working, and so patient that he does all of the cooking, cleaning, gardening, and laundry without so much as a thought. He has absolutely put the needs of me and the baby before his own this past month, and I can't begin to tell him how grateful I am that he's been here to take care of us. I don't know how we would have got through this month without him, and I had no idea that I would love him more with each new day. I feel so blessed that we have a son and that we get to raise him together. This baby boy is going to have the best poppa in all the land, one who will teach him and show him worlds that no one else knows about. Thanks, Dave. You're amazing.
And so is this little butter bean.