Don't make me turn this car around. Because I will.

And by car, I mean my quickly growing baby and by because I will I mean I can't.  One month old yesterday!  I can't believe it.  I won't believe it.  Time flies when you have no idea what time it really is, what day it is, and which boob was lunch.  Don't get me wrong, I want him to grow and all that good stuff, except I don't.  I want him to be my teeny, tiny gentleman forever.  AND EVER!  Instead, he's getting longer, getting heavier, staying awake more, grabbing my fingers, focusing in a little bit when I put my head right near his, filling out his newborn clothes a little better (I think it's only a week or so till we move into the 0-3 month range - no!) and, today, feeding from his first bottle since I'm slated to return to work in two weeks and we've got to get the whole pumping/bottle thing down before I skip out on him (no, I don't feel guilty at all, AT ALL!).  Needless to say, I cried as K fed him with a bottle instead of me.  H was only too happy to comply, which is great, of course, since there doesn't seem to be a chance for nipple confusion and all that other stuff that Dr. Sears and babycenter.com scared me about, but that only made it worse.  He doesn't need me anymore.  Just my lactation abilities.  Sadness.  (And maybe some happiness - I can almost see you, freedom.)