Nap and nursing milestones, track and other updates

G is done with naps, hence the reason for my failure to blog with any regularity.  Our afternoons are mostly spent in front of the tv, with me doing piddly house jobs that allow me to check in with him.  His newest love is "Ben 10" on Netflix, which he pretend plays all the time.  

I have to laugh at how much of an anti-tv nazi I was when N was a small child (until I got pregnant with G and borrowed every Disney Princess movie ever made so I could feel pukey on the couch in piece and let N zone out to Aurora, Cindy, and Belle).  At this moment, M is happily eating cereal and watching "Yo Gabba Gabba" on the queue, and I am thrilled to have a moment's peace.  (This morning has been spent cleaning pee-soaked sheets, using a snake/Drano to unsuccessfully degunkify the shower drain, and dealing with my ever-demanding, high-maintenance 5-year-old.)

Lack of blogging can also be explained by my recent work on some freelance pieces.  Any time I had for writing was of the "I'm being paid for this" variety.

In other child milestone news, M is weaned.  I have been more than ready for awhile, but he kept hanging on.  I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd nurse a child to age 3-and-a-half.  Maybe I will actually get that mammogram my gynecologist has been asking me to have since I was 35?  You know you are DONE breastfeeding when you are eager for a mammary squishing.

I am officially one of "those" moms who has over-scheduled her child.  For the past few years, N has asked to run Cross Country, but with two practices a week plus a meet, I simply couldn't make the commitment.  N and I have piano lessons every Monday evening and Girl Scouts every other Wednesday.  

A few weeks ago, though, she brought home information about a short Track season with only one practice a week and 4 or 5 meets in all.  This was more reasonable for our schedule, so I gave permission with the understanding that if she whines or acts like a turd we won't do it again. She has her first meet this Saturday, so that should be interesting.  I'm proud of her for giving it a go, and I'm actually relieved that she is having an opportunity to do a sport (just so I can give up the guilt that I'm the one holding her back). 

The weather has turned warmer, allowing me and the boys to get outside more often.  They have rediscovered the sandbox, and the sunshine has done wonders for my mood and energy level.  I had been wondering if I was having thyroid issues, but I think it was prolonged winter having its way with me.  

Geez, this is a dull post.

I guess I shall move onto more exciting activities, like disposing of N's stash of Valentine candy that has been sitting on her desk for the past 2 months.  

I guess I'm that weird extended nursing mom

Almost 20 years ago, a guy I was dating and I went to New York to visit his sister.  I distinctly recall attending an event where he and I witnessed a young male child, probably age 3, walk up to his mother, ask her to nurse and then proceed to nurse.  

Oh, how I cringed and grimaced and thought that was about the weirdest thing I'd ever seen.  

Karma laughs at me.....

Actually she guffaws when M, who turned 3 in October, walks up to me and says, "Mommy...ursey milk on the couch."  

Or when he is nursing and stops to inform me, "I yike chocolate ice cream and I yike chocolate cookies."  

It is weird.  

But a little bit sweet too.  

And I tell myself that surely, SURELY he will be done soon.  

My general parenting m.o. has been, "They will give things up when they are ready, and it's better when it is on their terms rather than mine."  It worked....eventually with N and the pacifier.  It will work with G who, like his sister, hides it when friends come over and talks about when he is going to give it up.  It worked with both of them when it came to potty-training.  Eventually M will decide he is done with ursey.  

And, lawd, will I have plenty of fodder for embarrassing my boy at his wedding toast.  

The upsides and downsides of extended nursing

I never expected that I would still be nursing M at 28 months.  As with most things, it has its good aspects and its not so good aspects.

One of the nicest things about it is that I still think of and visualize M as a baby.  Extended nursing is, at least in my mind's eye, keeping him from becoming a big boy too soon, which is a special blessing since he is my last baby. Once this roller coaster stops, that is it:  I will never nurse another baby.

Of course, I think of most 2-year-olds as still very much baby-like, even if they are not nursing.  I have never understood putting 2-year-olds in preschool or MDO programs (unless the mom has absolutely no family anywhere near and has a husband who travels a lot).  Two-year-olds need to be with their mommas because they are toddlers....just barely beyond the threshold of babyhood.

Another great benefit of extended nursing is that it gives both N and G a chance to see (and hopefully remember) seeing me nurse their brother.  Hopefully it is normalizing breastfeeding for them, making it something they will expect to do or expect their wives to do if they ever become parents.

Making other people uncomfortable is also a nice side effect of extended nursing, and I am just ornery enough to get a cheap thrill out of doing so.  I do not expose myself and leave it all hanging out, but I also don't attempt to cover with a blanket because M wrangling the blanket and kicking it would be far more obvious than just holding him close in my lap.  I have no problem glaring back at anyone who gives me a "disgusted" look.  Last week I sat at the front of Lowe's on a bench with M in my lap nursing and G at my side facing customers check out at the self-service machines.  I have a hard enough time getting the boys through the store to get the items I needed; I'll be damned if I'm gonna haul ass to the back of the store near the restrooms just to be more private.

The only real downside I have at this point is being home to put M to bed.  D can put him to bed but it can involve an awful lot of tears (on M's part) and frustration (on D's part).  I just arrive late to book club, which is just about the only "fun" thing I am able to do given our schedule and desire to be home most nights of the week.  M won't nurse forever, and at some point I will be able to arrive on time to book club.

This is a short-lived span of time, which I try to remember on those rare occasions when I get a little overwhelmed that I have been doing this for 28 months.  

The funny/sweet and also sorta annoying things about nursing an almost 2-year-old

I just saw a cool link on FB about breastmilk, which jarred my memory that I had something I wanted to blog about---the continued nursing of the 23-month-old kid.

Most of the time M says "Naaah" when he wants to nurse, although sometimes he says "Urse."  When he wants to switch sides he says "uss."

Today G's playgroup met over here.  Apparently, it was Super Suckle Day as well.  Not knowing M's nursing lingo, my friends asked, "How do you know that he wants to nurse?"  I said, "If he's laying in my lap bugging the hell out of me, that's how I know."

I definitely have my moments when I am like, "This extended nursing is for the birds," but then I see the aforementioned cool poster or I remember that he's my last baby and once he is done, that is it.  No more sweet baby cuddles in my arms, snuggling up to my chest.  M seems far younger and more babyish than G or N did at the same age, and I think a big part of this is because he is still breastfeeding.

M's language is in the process of exploding.  Every day he is saying or attempting to say new words.  Evidently, since nursing time equals relaxing time, it gives M a chance to remember all the important words he would like to say to me.

Like "Bite."  He doesn't bite me, but he sticks his fingers up near my mouth, detaches from the nipple and says, "Bite."

Or "Isss (kiss) Toes."  He detaches, speaks and then nearly jams his foot up my snout.

Sometimes he detaches, waves his arm in a circular motion over his head and says, "Rahw n rahw" (round and round) as he looks up at the spinning ceiling fan.

Other times he looks up at the plaques above the chair and the knickknacks on the shelf, detaches and then says "Tie" (tiger), "Baby" and "Orse" (horse).

Beyond the verbiage that makes extended nursing even more extensive, breastfeeding an almost 2-year-old can also be mistaken for "Toddler Wrestling With Mom."  He doesn't do this while actually nursing, but when climbing onto my lap to get settled to nurse or switching sides.  The gymnastics are something else--- rearing back, jumping, shaking my shoulders.

I tell D that M will probably be the smartest and healthiest of our kids because he has nursed so long, although he could end up being most well-adjusted because he is the third child and we've just sorta figured a lot of parenting stuff out.  (Or simply given up.)

The funny things about nursing a toddler

M is almost 19 months old and still nursing.  It is funny that I wanted to nurse my first baby until she was 2 years old, but it took me until my third child to find a willing accomplice.

As in all aspects of parenting, nursing has its phases.  At first it takes foreva for a baby to get through a nursing session.  As soon as they detach, burp and sleep for 15 minutes, they are ready to go again.

Within a couple months they get faster at nursing, but they are still very boob-centric.  Nursing becomes more of a wrestling match once they start to notice that there is a little more to life than nipples and mommy milk.  Even if they are not mobile, their little heads are on a swivel.

Once they become mobile, nursing often requires a darkened, quiet room with no distraction so that they can focus on the matter at hand and not jump off momma's lap to crawl or run around.

N weaned at 12 months and G at 14 months, so even though I think I am a fairly seasoned parent, all of this toddler nursing is a new thing for me.  Nursing is often about comforting M whenever his big brother steals a toy from him....which means I suckle for comfort ALOT.  And that gets kinda tiring.  I feel like a pacifier with legs.  This is when it feels frustrating.

Despite this, I can't help but get tickled by M's continued nursing as he develops language.  He will be latched on, laying in my arms when he decides to detach and say, "Mooooooo," letting me know he was evidently thinking about cows.  Or he'll detach and growl, which I can only assume means he is thinking about bears.  Sometimes he detaches and just laughs and laughs.

Before bedtime at night, he nurses and does this hip gyrating/pelvic thrust thing while rubbing his crotch through his diaper.  I sorta feel like I should give him some privacy, but he is filling his tummy for the night, and this is for him the be-all/end-all in soothing comfort.

As much as I sometimes think I will be really glad when he decides to wean, I am also so glad to have the wonderful and often weird experience of nursing a toddler.

I've never been HERE before

My original plan was to nurse N until she was 2 years old, but a nervous breakdown, mastitis and a ductal yeast infection in the same effin' breast,  and her disinterest in extended nursing foiled those plans.  She weaned at 12 months.

With G, I wanted to get to 12 months, and he weaned at 14 months.

With both of them, it got to the point where they only wanted to nurse right before bedtime at night, and would latch on for 15 seconds before instantly falling asleep and biting my nipple.

Now M is almost 17-months-old and is a total boob dude.  He loves to nurse, especially in the morning when I've got 12 hours worth of milk just sitting there waiting for him.   I finally night-weaned him in December, but he probably nurses 5-6 times a day, and sometimes even more.  And when he wants to nurse and for some reason I can't nurse him, he cries and pulls on my shirt and bangs his head into my leg and just makes for a very unpleasant baby.

He refuses to drink cow's milk.  So I keep nursing him because 1. he obviously likes it, 2. he needs milk from somewhere, and 3. I seriously don't want to deal with him being fussy and unhappy all.the.time.  Because I don't mind nursing him.

But here's the rub.  I've started to get comments.  From people that I can't really tell to go fuck themselves.  (Believe it or not, there are some people, although very few, to whom I would not say this phrase.)

The comments aren't made to me, but to M, on the order of, "You don't need that, you big boy."

Now to my way of thinking, if he comes up to me, cries to be held and then pulls on the collar of my shirt to nurse, I think that is his way of saying, "I do need this, people."

By the third kid, you think you've been there, done that, but then voila!  A situation you've never experienced before.

Highlights (and lowlights) of the week

ONW (Operation Night Weaning) UPDATE:
It has been about a week since ONW began.  The first two nights M fussed a bit, but he quickly realized that 1.) Momma was not going to pick him up and nurse him, and 2.) he could survive Momma not picking him up and nursing him.  Last night he slept from 7:00(ish) until 7:30 this morning....without once needing me to help him settle.  And his daytime nap has gotten longer too.  I felt so well-rested today after last night's solid chunk of sleep I even hopped on the treadmill and took a mile in the afternoon.

BUT
that mile is not going to help when I have a super-fantabulous neighbor who 1.) offered to have N help her make cookies this afternoon while the boys napped so I could have some downtime and then 2.) sent N back some 3 hours later with 3 bags of cookies in hand.  What a Christmas gift!!!!!  HAC knows the upcoming 2 weeks of family togetherness may kill me, so having N home sick from school Monday and Tuesday, and then school being canceled today and tomorrow due to ice....well, that was just someone shitting on my cake as opposed to putting icing on it.  One day when my kids are older, I fully intend to do some kind of niceness for a mom with young kids like HAC does for me on a regular basis.  I told her she and her husband must live next door until M is 10.

THIS EFFIN ICE....
has ruined the psyching myself out that I had intended for today and tomorrow in preparation for the next two weeks.  And N was so bummed because with school canceled tomorrow so to is her class party.  Not a good way to start a vacation.
Mother Nature is kinda being a bitch right now.

BABIES...
the documentary was simply wonderful.  I watched it on Netflix and found myself appreciating M so very much.  Offering him extra kisses and snuggles in a vain attempt to slow down the process of him turning into a little boy.  It is truly amazing how a baby changes in a little over a year.

Report on Night 2 of Operation Night Weaning

M went to sleep a little before 8.  Woke up around 12:30.  Hugged/snuggled without picking him up.  Laid him back down.  Woke up around 3:30.  Same routine.  Woke up at 7:30 only because G marched into M's bedroom yelling, "Momma, where are you?"

Report on Night 1 of Operation Night Weaning (and other things M related)

It went surprisingly well.  I think I was up with M 3 times.  Each time I leaned down to hug him, snuggle a bit.  And then I laid him down saying, "Night, night."  I kept my hand on his back a few minutes until he settled.  There were no massive screaming fits because I never picked him up.

He slept around 3 hours between each waking until the 3:30 a.m. one.  After that he didn't wake again until 8:30.  Nearly 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep is a Christmas miracle in my book.

Some things that M is doing now....at 14 months:

* He finally brings me books to read to him.  He is pretty picky...I can't just pick up any old board book.  But he does like to sit in my lap and be read to.

*He knows that ducks say "Cack, cack," because every time he sees a duck--in a book, on tv, in real life-- he says, "Cack, cack."

*He says "Maow" for cat.
*He says "No" uber-clearly.  And uses it completely correctly.  Like when I'm trying to wipe food off his face.
*He says "Bow" for "Wow."
*He walks 90% of the time, so I guess he is officially a toddler.

Operation Night Weaning

N weaned from night-time nursing at 4 weeks of age.  She just started sleeping 8-12 hours a night, every night.  I didn't know how super effin easy I had it with her.
I can totally see why they say girls develop and mature so.much.faster. than boys.

I was able to wean G from night nursing at 10 months.  I was able to pick him up, hold him for a few minutes, he would settle down, and then go back to sleep.  He still woke up 2-3 times a night until he was 14 months old and had tubes put in (at which time he started sleeping 12 hours a night, every night).

And then there is turd.  I mean M.
At 14 months old, he has slept 2 times through the night.  And he still night nurses.  I had started letting him sleep in bed with us, thinking he just wanted to be close to me.  But he quickly realized he had an all-night open bar laying right next to him.

I am tired.  And I am tired of being tired.  So I am weaning him from night-time nursing.  He can suckle as much as he likes during the day, and he usually does 3-4 times.

But I have reached the point where nursing him at night and being woken up so much is making me resentful.  And I don't like that feeling.

Stupidly, I feel sorta like a bad mom.  Guilty.  Whatever.  And it is completely unjustified thinking.  I have given it way more than the ol' college try.  Fourteen months of night-time nursing is effing OUTSTANDING.  Some babies don't get fourteen nights of night-time nursing.  And I'm still happy to daytime nurse him until he is ready to wean.

I have decided it is time to partially reclaim my body, reclaim some semblance of rest.  Time to parent him to sleep, learn that he really can be comforted by someone other than mom and something other than my breast.

Mixed feelings about keeping this going

I am definitely pro-breastfeeding, no doubt about it.  But I would be lying if I said I wasn't sort of ready to see this ship sail.

Like life, breastfeeding has it's phases.  At first it is profoundly difficult....or at least it was for me.  Cracked nipples from hell....damned eczema-prone skin.

But then it gets much easier and is uber-convenient.  No cleaning bottles, no mixing formula, no spending money on formula.  Just take your boobs wherever you go and voila!  Baby fed and happy.

Then it becomes difficult again when one's boobs are no longer the center of the baby's world--once the baby becomes interested in other stuff---tv, toys, siblings, noises, light.  After spending so much time thinking, "Is this kid ever going to not want to nurse constantly?" you are amazed that you find yourself saying, "Would you just nurse already and quit dawdling?"

And then teeth enter the picture, which is normally fine until the baby is cutting new teeth.  My boobs can tell teeth are coming in long before my conscious mind.  There is more pulling and tugging involved.  A more pronounced latching on.  

M is 13 months old today, and of my 3 kids, he is still big on nursing.  He even says "nurse," or his baby version of nurse....."urssss."   He still nurses twice a night, and at least twice during the day.  By 13 months, N had long since night-weaned (at age 4 weeks) and completely weaned by 12 months.  G night-weaned around 10 months old and was totally weaned by 14 months.

Since M is my last baby, I sorta want to keep this nursing relationship going.  It would be nice to make it 15 months just to be able to say to myself that I nursed each of my kids longer than the last (I'm a little self-competitive.)   I continue to maintain my weight loss which is never a bad thing.  And it is extremely sweet to watch M nurse, detach and then fall asleep snuggled up to my breast, with his hand resting softly against my skin.  There is no greater comfort and security for a baby.

But it would also be nice to be able to go out with friends for dinner without fretting over nursing M to sleep before I go, and worrying that he will wake while I'm gone and D won't be able to settle him down because M wants to nurse.  It would be nice to have a little bit of Carrie back.

I try to remind myself that this phase will pass, sooner rather than later.

Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda.....Didn't

Everyone has their tipping point, the point where they think, "I have completely had enough.  I can't go on anymore."

If you're a mom, this point comes at least once a day.  Which means that, "I can't go on anymore" is pointless.  You have to go on, and so you do.  But sometimes you need to vent.

I don't want advice.  I don't want suggestions.

All I want is for someone to just say, "That really sucks ass, Carrie."

Today I vented the following to some lady friends:

*M is a crappy sleeper.  Has slept 2 times through the night (8+ hours) in 12 months.  And I think on those 2 particular nights my other two children woke me up, so I didn't even get to enjoy it.  And now he is waking at 6:00 a.m.  The crack of dawn would not be a problem if I hadn't gotten up with him twice between 11 - 5.  I KNOW why sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture.  I totally get it.

*It occurred to me this morning, after having been woken up at 6:00 a.m. and being in a piss poor mood, that I remember going off with girlfriends for a day of outlet shopping when N was about 2.  We were gone pretty much all day, from 9-6 or so.  And that is the longest amount of time I have been away from my children to do something fun.  I'm sorry but giving birth to another sibling doesn't count as fun. Nor does grocery shopping.

One mom mentioned that she used the book everyone hates......Babywise.
Another said she had to lock herself in her bathroom far away from her kid while he was screaming and screaming.
Another suggested I break out my breast pump.

And I know their intentions are good.
But they are pointless.

Because I cannot tolerate allowing M to scream and scream, and that is what he does.  If he does it at 7:00 p.m., he will do it at 4:00 a.m.  And if I'm going to have to be awake at 4:00 a.m., I'd prefer to nurse him and get him quickly back to sleep rather than lock myself in my bathroom to not have to endure his screaming (and then have to deal with cranky hubby who also had to listen to M scream, and possibly cranky G and N, who might awaken due to M's screaming.)

Because I hate pumping.  Because M will not take a bottle.  Twelve months of age is a little late to be introducing a bottle.  And the boy won't accept cow's milk as a substitute.  I'm continuing to offer it but he rejects it every time.

Because I only know of like 1 other lady who has 3 children the same or similar age and spacing as mine, who also breastfed and didn't have caboodles of opportunities to get away.  Otherwise we're comparing apples and oranges.  All moms have it hard, but unless you're situation is pretty darn close to mine, I'm not sure you totally get where I'm comin' from.  

I just want to vent.  I just want someone to reassure me that one day soon M will sleep better.  And I will sleep better.  And I won't end up pregnant one month after he starts sleeping through the night and then be all fatigued and pukey (which is what happened when G started sleeping better).

And I think that is the toughest part of this and why I am so flipping worn-out.....I didn't get a break between G and M.  I did pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding and rolled right into another pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding.

And anyone who knows me at all knows I have never been a fan of the 2-year or less spacing and never, ever would have done this to myself if I'd had any say in the matter.

But...as I said I just gotta roll on.

Is there a purpose in judgment and guilt?

Well, once again, without intending to, I posted a quote and caused a little stir on Facebook.  I think my epithet will be something along the lines of.....

She had OCD and GAD.

She tried to be a good mom.

She posted Facebook comments that incited the masses.  

My comment was a quote by Elizabeth Gene:  

"Women should not feel guilty if they are unable to nurse their baby, but they should feel guilty if they are unwilling to do so, and they should be intellectually honest enough to know the difference." ~ 

And the comments that resulted from this status update have had me thinking all day about guilt, making judgments about others, and the purposes these two things serve.   Or if there is a purpose.

I. The Reason I Posted the Quote

If you know me at all, you know I am an ardent breastfeeding supporter.  Breastfeeding is what nature intended for babies to have.  We have not evolved enough for this to no longer be true.  Breastfeeding is normal and natural, and modern life has screwed with the process.  Women were designed to be with their babies (or very near their babies) pretty much constantly....but that is not the way life is anymore...for better or worse.

So here is basically where I stand---

Do I think breastfeeding is what nature intended for babies to have and is better than the alternatives?  Yes, I do. 

Do I think moms who don't breastfeed are bad moms?  No, I don't.

Do I think breastfeeding is the be-all and end-all of motherhood and determines whether a child develops into a wonderful person?  No, I don't.

Do I think some women really give it everything they have and simply cannot produce enough milk?  Yes, I do.

Do I think some women can and do produce enough milk and choose not to breastfeed because it is time-consuming and initially inconvenient?  Yes, I do.

Do I wish women would be honest enough to say the truth of their breastfeeding experience, such as "I have a medical condition that made me unable to breastfeed even though I would have liked to" or "I didn't want to breastfeed and I don't feel guilty about it."  Yes, I do.

Because what most women say is "I couldn't breastfeed," which lumps everyone together.  Those women who really, really desperately wanted to but who's milk supply dried up and physically couldn't do it.  Those women who think breasts are solely for sex and were disgusted by the idea of their baby suckling.  Those women who only did it for 2 weeks and stopped because they were tired of having their baby constantly want to suckle and preferred for someone else to be able to give the baby a bottle so they could get out.  

There is an ocean-size difference between couldn't and didn't want to.  And I think this is the real gist of the quote I posted.  

The sad thing is that when everyone is lumped together like this, those women who really, really wanted to but really physically couldn't don't get the supportive comments, the consideration of their grief (which is what they experience when they didn't get to breastfeed), the encouragement from moms who also shared similar experiences or moms who had successful breastfeeding experiences and could potentially help them out.  

II. Guilt

I know moms who breastfed, moms who couldn't breastfeed, and moms who didn't want to breastfeed.  I think these moms are all good, caring, dedicated, loving moms.  While I do not necessarily understand not wanting to breastfeed or stopping after 2-3 weeks, this doesn't make me think any less of these moms.  

I only wish that everyone could be fortunate enough to be able to experience a close, successful breastfeeding relationship because my experience has been so wonderful.  I know that not everyone can, and some people simply don't want, an experience like mine.  But I can still wish.  

If moms feel any guilt related to breastfeeding or anything else they do as a mom, it is not because I and my opinion (which in reality is only important to me) have anything to do with it.  Guilt comes from within.  As Eleanor Roosevelt said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."  I think this applies to guilt.  Lord knows I guilt myself into plenty without anyone having to say a single, solitary word to me.  

III.  Judging Others

Everyone judges people.  It is human nature.  I make judgments all the time.  I judge people who don't recycle when I know they can afford to.  People who don't take care of weeding their front flower beds.  People who register as Republicans.  People who spend as much money sending their kids to Christian K-12 schools as I will sending 3 kids to college.  People who think Tom Cruise is a great actor.  People who smoke.  People who are overweight.  People who have pets and allow them to run loose in the neighborhood.  

I know that everyone has their own reasons for making the choices they do.  And I am not privy to those reasons.

So maybe the very overweight person in front of me in the grocery line has rheumatoid arthritis and difficulty managing pain, thereby making it nearly impossible to exercise.  Do I eye their food choices questioningly when I see lots of chips and soft drinks?  Yes, I do.  Because my wish is that people will eat healthier in general and exercise more (to feel better, to lower health care costs.)  Do I get frustrated when I see people in my neighborhood not recycling?  Yes, I do.  Because my wish is that we all become more careful about reducing our waste.  

I know that I am judged for the things I do or don't do.  For having a crucifix hanging in my hall when I refuse to attend any kind of church.  For not getting "fixed up" to go out in public.  For being pro-Obama.  For being something of a dowdy housewife who's mental energy is probably more wrapped up in her children's lives than it should be.

And so sometimes I think maybe I shouldn't say what I think.  Maybe I should just keep my thoughts to myself.  I mean, I have this blog, right?  Isn't that enough?

For me, though, Facebook is a quick little 5-minute escape from the monotony of fixing cheese sandwiches every day, reading the same Diego book 40 times a day, dealing with the sassiness of my 6-year-old, being stuck inside on a rainy day.

As much as I hate the idea of sparking conflict, it does me a world of good to occasionally have something poignant or heated to think about.  To assess my feelings and thoughts and beliefs.  To reflect on what kind of person I really am at heart.  To understand where another person is coming from.

This blog serves that same purpose but I've been crafting this particular post for almost 3 hours now.  Interrupted hours, but hours nonetheless.

Facebook is the only kind of quickie I do right now.

Boobs on the brain

The recent media report about the benefits of breastfeeding, coupled with my own breastfeeding relationship with M, has me thinking a lot about the "girls" and what they do.

On Sunday, we introduced M to rice cereal since he will be 6 months old tomorrow.  Perhaps because he is my last baby, this milestone has not been as "exciting" for me as it was with his older sister and brother.  Where before I saw solid food as the opening up of the world for my child, now I see it as an eventual closing of the door to breastfeeding, the end of a chapter in my life.  And that makes me sad.

My breastfeeding experience has been at times extremely difficult, and always totally worth it.  It is amazing to look at the rolls of fat on M (and G and N before him) and know that my breastmilk did that.  Breastfeeding my children is one of the things of which I am most proud.

From the get-go, I have been a breastfeeding nazi.  I did not, under any circumstances, want to give my children formula for a number of reasons.  The cost for one.  Why pay for something I can produce for free?  Plus the fact that formula is not what nature intended for babies to drink.  Would I rather my baby be given stuff produced in a factory full of ingredients I can't pronounce or my own milk?   Since my OCD brings with it tons and tons of health- and germ-related anxieties, the idea of not giving my babies breast milk that is chock full of antibodies was simply intolerable.

This diehard approach to breastfeeding has been a blessing and a curse.  My determination to do it made me just plug on through all the difficulties I have experienced in my breastfeeding career:  severely cracked nipples, nipple eczema, a ductal yeast infection, mastitis (at the same time as the yeast infection).  Whenever I have had a time when I felt like throwing in the towel, I read in the breastfeeding books I own about all the benefits of breastfeeding to steel my resolve to just keep going.  Get over the hump.  I'm pretty good at persevering when I believe strongly in something.

But this determination has, at times, brought with it considerable pressure and anxiety that I've brought on myself.  Breastfeeding failure means personal failure.  If I stopped nursing before trying everything under the sun to preserve the breastfeeding relationship, then I simply wouldn't be the kind of mom I wanted to be.  I would have let my children and myself down.  I'm not exaggerating when I say I would have been (and still would be) devastated to stop breastfeeding prior to 6 months or a year.

Clearly, in 36 years of living, I have yet to learn how to be gentle with myself.

And unfortunately, I tend to think everyone else should have as crazy high standards for themselves as what I do for me.

I stand (sorta) corrected

I heard from a couple readers who said they ovulated and began their periods very shortly after birth even while breastfeeding.  Let me say, "I'm sorry."  Not about what I said, but that you got your periods shortly after delivery.  That sucks.

However, I still stand by my mostly uneducated assumption that most women who get pregnant soon after childbirth formula feed.

My reasoning?  If you look at the statistics, a huge majority of women do not breastfeed past 3 months or breastfeed while supplementing with formula.   In my pathetic little state, only 9.4% of women breastfeed exclusively at 6 months postpartum.

How can these people possibly be having sex?

Today, while waiting in line at the Disney Store, I began a conversation with an obviously pregnant woman who said she is due in May.  She also said she had 2 other kids at home---ages 3 and 14 months.  I generally feel like Superwoman until I meet someone like her, who's 3 children are much, much closer in age than mine.

Whenever I meet women with numerous very, very closely spaced kids. I always, always want to ask the following question which is:  How in the holy hell did you have the desire and/or energy to have sex when your babies were under a year old????

Because I am perfectly content to be in a celibate marriage at the moment.  Hubby is not into it because he is scared that I'll get pregnant again.  I am not into it because....drumroll, please....

1. My breasts are getting plenty of action all day long.

2. My breasts are getting plenty of action all night long too.

3. Said nighttime action interrupts sleep, which makes me have no energy to have sex.

4. Did you know nursing hormones dampen a woman's sex drive?

5. Did you know that caring for 2 little boys all day long, and a 6-year-old from late afternoon on, also plays a role in low sex drive?  As in, I feel too exhausted, smelly and frumpy to want to have sex?

So in addition to preventing ovulation, breastfeeding zaps my energy, meets all my needs for physical comfort, and produces hormones that make arousal darn near impossible.  

Which makes me think that the women I meet who get pregnant with Irish twins or with babies only slightly more than 1 year apart, do not breastfeed.  Because not breastfeeding makes one menstruate really soon after birth, like even six weeks after delivery.  I didn't menstruate with N until she was 11 months old, and with G it was 13 months until Aunt Flo visited.  Who knows how long I'll go with M?

Of course, these women could just be anomalies who genuinely do like sex OR they are nice to their husbands and do it just because their dudes want to.  Thankfully, I am not in those categories.

Breastfeeding odds and ends and opinions

I have spent nearly 30 months of my life nursing a baby, and I still have (hopefully) many months to go before I end my reign as a breastfeeding momma.  And over the years, my perspectives on breastfeeding have changed.

When I first had N, I wanted to nurse her for 2 years.  Of course, I had never had a child so I really didn't know what a 2-year-old was like.  When she was 7 months old, I developed a ductal yeast infection and mastitis in my right breast, and the poor ole girl on the right side of my chest was never the same.  I had a rash on my nipple that didn't go away until months after I'd weaned N.  So breastfeeding from months 7-12 was a right royal PITA.  But I did it because 1. N wouldn't take a bottle, and 2. I am extremely cheap, and 3. I think breast is best.

I was a lot more militant about nursing than I am now.  Very judgmental of women who didn't nurse at all or who only nursed for a short period of time.  Time and age and having multiple children and medication have mellowed me out.

With G, I set 6 months as my goal because I just didn't know how things would go down.  The first 2-3 months of that time hurt due to my sensitive skin.  But eventually we got into a groove, my girls toughened up, and I nursed him for 14 months.

And now I am at entering the 4th month of nursing M.  He has finally learned how to nurse well, and, again, my girls have regrown new, tougher skin.  I haven't set a goal with M.  Whatever, ya know.  I'll wean eventually, and hopefully later rather than sooner.

I'd be lying if I said I still don't retain some judgment about women who chose not to breastfeed.  But I also make a judgment about women who get their baby girls' ears pierced when they are infants.  And women who circumcise their sons just to make their boys matchy/matchy with daddy, without actually researching the procedure.  And women who make their sons Juniors.  But my opinion is only really valuable to me.

Still I do think it is sad that more babies aren't nursed longer.
But I can understand why they are not.
Had I chosen to continue teaching or if I'd had to continue teaching, there would have been no way I could have nursed past maternity leave.  An office job is more conducive to pumping.  I don't see that it would be feasible to even attempt pumping as a teacher.

And most women aren't as eager to be in pain as long as I have been in my nursing adventures.  I have always enjoyed a challenge, and I have had my share of breastfeeding challenges.  The truth is I am either an extremely persevering individual or downright stupid.  For me, though, I was willing to put up with pain and ointments and such because of allergies on both sides (mine and hubby's) and my simple feeling that there is nothing better than mommy's milk for a baby.

Mind you, at first and to some extent now, I thought breastfeeding would cure all ills.  I thought my kids wouldn't get sick, like, ever.  They wouldn't have allergies or ear infections.  But breastfeeding can't negate a family history of sinus, ear and allergy problems.  But I like to believe that nursing my babies, even if they do have ear problems, don't have as severe of problems as they might have had I not nursed them as long as I did.  But who knows???

As my children get older, I realize that nursing, though important to me, is only one small piece of the things I do as a mom to help my children become independent, caring, responsible, decent human beings.  N knows she was breastfed and hopefully, if and when she becomes a mom she will opt to breastfeed her children for an extended period of time.  And my sons will know they were breastfed and will hopefully support their wives if they chose to breastfeed.

Despite my struggles with nursing, it is a cinch compared to the relationship and behavior challenges every momma faces when raising someone from infancy to adulthood.

This I know is true---about breastfeeding

Even though I am nursing kid #3 and should have "this" down, I need to just accept that the breastfeeding rules don't always apply.

For example, the general rule is that if breastfeeding hurts or causes discomfort, it is due to a bad latch.  In my case, breastfeeding discomfort is due to the fact that my fucking right nipple is retarded and won't heal. Leftie is brilliant and 98% healed.  Dumb-ass righty is being a PITA.  I keep checking M's latch, and it is fine.  Three lactation consultants have said it is fine.  He is getting tons of milk in him...so the latch is fine.  But nippy just hasn't toughened up yet.

I can understand why many, many women stop breastfeeding, especially if they experience anything like what I experience.  But I tend to like challenges, and so I keep doing it.

Plus, I can't help but feel proud, looking at Chunky Monkey M, and knowing that I got him that way.  I did it!!  Not something from a can.  And knowing that every time he nurses he's getting thousands upon thousands of good antibodies.  I feel like I can safely go to the mall without spazzing off that he is catching every little bug that comes our way.

And I am lazy.  I don't want to mess with bottles and heating stuff up.  Too much preparation.  I don't even like to pump for an occasional bottle because it is too time-consuming.  It is so much easier to just unlatch by nursing bra and get 'er done.

At this point, I don't think I'll be getting my wish for non-sore boobies for Christmas.  Well, a non-sore leftie.  C'mon righty!!!  Get with the program!

Deja FUCKIN Vu

My neighbor, H, who has been a stay-at-home mom for 18 years was the one who said to me that being a SAHM is like living the movie Groundhog Day. I agreed wholeheartedly with her when she said this, and I especially appreciate her remark now that I went back and re-read my posts after having G in the fall of 2007.

Nips hurt like holy hell then too.

Did I mention my nips hurt like hell?

How long did my nips hurt?

It makes me feel tremendously better to read these posts because it gives me hope that my nipples will not, in fact, fall off my body. It gives me hope that both my skin and my psyche will adjust and toughen up.

However, reading these posts also makes me remember the following:

1. I am a wuss.

2. I am a whiner.

3. I clearly have synapse problems because I can't remember shit.

A post about my breasts

There was a time in my life, from age 10 until maybe 17, when I spent a lot of time thinking about and noticing my breasts. Usually wanting them to be bigger.

At some point, I stopped thinking about them. Maybe when I realized that I had so many other stellar qualities that my mammaries weren't terribly critical. Har-har.

But now my breasts have a life of their own. Their own zip code. As they always have while I'm nursing my children.

I could add the following to my list of "shit I forgot about having a new baby:" Breast tenderness. Breast tingling whenever I get that filling up sensation. Breasts tingling some more whenever I let down. Breasts on fire whenever M latches on poorly, which at this rate is still quite often.

I am astounded by how excellent newborns are at swatting at sore nipples with their flailing arms as one tries to latch them on. I am equally astounded by how insistent they are about falling sound asleep whenever one tries to swaddle their arms to make latching on easier and not so darn dangerous.

So, once again, I am spending a lot of time thinking about and noticing my breasts.

Good times.