the mimic

As we all know, there comes a time in a babies life when she starts to mimic. It starts in a beautiful manner- mama smiles at baby, baby smiles back, mama jumps up and down screaming, She smiled! She smiled! and then proceeds to be a goofy mess as baby continues to mimic her smile.

Baby starts to mimic sounds- ooh! ah!. We play peekaboo together, take turns clapping, making faces together. All harmless, good, old-fashioned baby and mama fun.

But at some point, it takes a sinister turn. You drop a cup and yell, Fuck! Baby jumps up and down yelling Fuc! Fuk! Oops. You slap a fly off your other child and baby turns to slap her too. Oops. And then there is just the annoying- I hand you the spoon and you hand it back to me. Over. And over. And over again.

I'm not sure if this falls into the sinister or the annoying. Whatever it is, it's not something that I want Baby S to continue, but it seems to have lodged itself in her little memory bank for the time being. What happened was this- after nursing, she grabbed my nipple with her sharp little claws. I yelled, Ouch!. Apparently, this made quite the impression on her. She then grabbed my nipple again and yelled, Ow!. And then she did it again.

Perhaps I shouldn't have laughed. That was probably the kicker. As much as it did hurt (those claws are sharp!), it was really pretty funny. What the heck was going on in her head? This is what you say when you grab mama's nipple? I tried grabbing her nipple just to show her that it hurts, but I forgot that she feels no pain. She thought this was hysterical, and responded by grabbing my nipple again. OW!


Here we are, three days later. For the past three days, she periodically grabs my nipple (hard) and yells Ow!. The memory on this kid!

Of course, it might go away if I could stop laughing.

the breast buffet

As Baby S gets older, her mind is maturing. Gone is the simple mind of the newborn. Her thoughts and actions become more complex with every passing day. You can see her looking at things, working out ideas in her head, making connections. Things that existed on their own now exist in a state of being in connection with other things.

Along with this comes options. For example: I know this (broccoli) is food, and I know your tortilla chip is food, so why eat this broccoli when I know you have tortilla chips in the kitchen, mama?

The same rule applies to my breasts. Being content with just one breast? Please, mama, that is sooooo six months ago! Baby S now wants the breast buffet. I must have both breasts out and readily available as she is eating. She eats for a couple of seconds from one breasts, stops, pulls back to examine her food, and switches to the other breast. Sometimes she doesn't switch- after contemplating both breasts, she decides that she was enjoying the one that she was on and continues to drink there for a couple of seconds. Of course, that doesn't mean I can cover up the one that she is not working on at the moment- that elicits an indignant grunt as she stops to pull up my shirt again.

What is this all about? Options? Choice? The realization that I have two breasts, all for her? Whatever it is, I don't know why I even bother with a shirt when it's feeding time anymore.

peek-a-boob

Baby S has a new game: Peek-a-Boob.

Peek-a-Boob is an exciting off-shoot of the good old standby Peek-a-Boo, played with her good friend Ms. Boob.

How does one play this, you might ask? Easy. Best played while mommy is laying on the bed. Lift up shirt, see boob, yell excitedly and bounce around. Perhaps nip in for a quick drink. Then cover boob with shirt, bounce for a couple of seconds. Maybe roll around and laugh, or play with a toy for a second. Then lift up shirt again, laugh excitedly and repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Woe to the mommy who thinks that the covering of the boob means that Peek-a-Boob is done. Snapping shut the nursing bra could result in cries and agressive pulling of the bra until the boob is revealed once more. Like, what were you thinking, mama?!? This game should be played for hours! I say when the game is done! We must play Peek-a-Boob all day!

Or at least until something else distracts me.

the nursing games

I think that when most people think of breastfeeding they picture a little baby sitting quietly while the mother holds him, both in comfort with a look of peace on their faces. And yes, that's what it's like sometimes, especially those first couple of months nursing your newborn. But as baby gets older (and squirmier), unless baby is really hungry, odds are that they are not going to sit still.

Yes, they'll attempt to eat, but they won't sit still. New moms, don't feel bad if you can't picture it, because I had no idea about this either. I had seen some moms talk about the "toddler olympics" or "nursing olympics", but I couldn't really picture it in my reality.

Somewhere around 8 months, Baby S turned into that distracted add-ish little creature that she is now. Can't keep her mind on something for more than a couple of seconds (unless she's playing the "I drop something and you pick it up" game). Every week she comes up with a new event for The Nursing Games. These are her favorite to date:

1. Breast Archery
Best played with mommy laying on her side, and baby sitting up. Baby stares at breast, gauges the elements (distance, mommy mobility at the moment, wind speed). Suddenly, the arrow is released, and baby shoots face forward to the breast. Will she get a successful latch, or hit side boob and have to suck and move until she hits nipple? A perfect 10 will be rewarded with a 5 second suck before repeating.

breastfeeding humor

Source

Even toys know that breast is best!

one of those nights

Last night was one of those nights. You know- those nights, the nights that you get into bed thinking, Yes! I'm getting under the covers at a decent time. I'm going to get a good night's sleep!


Then... no.

Baby S decided that it would be one of those nights when she MUST HAVE A NIPPLE IN HER MOUTH. Why? I have no fricking fracking clue. She's 11 months old, for cripes sake! She hasn't had a "I'm going to eat all night" night for quite a while.

I think. My memory doesn't function too well anymore. Brain too filled up with Goodnight Moon, laundry and cute baby faces.

Anyways, by 7:30 am my breasts felt like 2 deflated old balloons and she was still sucking. The child couldn't possibly have been getting anything out, but still, she was attacking me like a rabid little spider monkey, feasting on the breast buffet. Right, left, right, left.

Well, whatever. We're awake now and she's started her day (albeit somewhat crabbily). She's chewing on an apple wedge and looking for mischief. Me, I'm just going to chalk it up to the almighty terror-causing teething bug, and leave it at that.

And drink a crapload of water.

i give milk in odd places

Baby S turned 11 months today. 11 months of breastfeeding- almost one whole year! How is it that I still am surprised at the odd places I find myself breastfeeding in?

Before beginning my breastfeeding journey I figured that I would end up nursing in places other than the couch. Maybe the floor, or in a store, or sitting outside. But now I am realizing that there are even odder places- like under the dining room table.

Tonight it was the tub. Toddler B and Baby S were engaging in their nightly splash-war ritual (Toddler B is Splashwoman Supreme, Baby S, her over-eager sidekick). Suddenly Baby S stood up and started whining at me with a sad look on her face. Hmm, I thought, that looks like an "I'm hungry" face. I leaned over the tub and raised my shirt. Her face lit up, and she came to the side of the tub and started to drink.

So here I am, leaning over the tub, boob in her mouth, trying not to get splashed in the face by Toddler B. Hysterical. And Baby S didn't just want a sip- she was in it for the long haul. Finally I got sick of the weird body contortions and took her out of the bath to eat. And got myself completely soaked in the process.

Where will it be tomorrow? Under the sink? In the closet? I'm not ruling anywhere out from this point on.

the slap heard round the nursery

I did something the other day that I'm not proud of. I slapped my baby.

I'm horrified at myself. The partner and I see no reason for physical punishment. What does a slap or a spank really solve, besides inspire fear? There are better ways to address negative behavior. And here I am, slapping my baby.

Here's how it went down: We were laying on the bed, and she was nursing. I was daydreaming about something- I don't remember, probably imagining taking a nap or a hot bath or something relaxing like that.

All of a sudden, there was a hard bite on my already sore nipple. I reacted without thinking. My hand flew out, and slapped her little cheek, much like you might do when you suddenly feel a mosquito biting you or hear it buzz suddenly in your ear. Bite- automatic reaction- slap.

Immediately after it happened, I gasped. The sound of flesh slapping flesh resonated in the air. I swear I heard an echo. I couldn't believe what I had just done. What had she really done wrong? It was just a bite, after all. Had I scarred her emotionally, irrevocably? Would this slap be burned into her psyche forever? Would we find ourselves in group therapy in twenty years as I tearfully explain to her that it was just an automatic reaction? Would the therapist accuse me of hiding behind excuses and justifications?

Perhaps I might have felt even worse if she had started whimpering or crying after the slap. No- Baby S started laughing and smiling. Am I raising some sort of masochistic role player? A sociopath that delights in being bad? I certainly hope not.

Jeez, parenting is difficult. The emotional roller coasters and what-ifs are enough to drive a mama batty.

no more magic boobs

Ah, baby bedtime. Oh how I look forward to you, each and every day. 

Don't get me wrong, babies- I love spending time with you, playing with you, laughing at your funny little faces, carrying you around and soothing your tears. But there comes a time in every mama's day when she is ready for some "me-time". Time when I can sit at the computer without a baby tugging at my leg, time when she can watch some Netflix without worrying about the TV rays damaging precious little baby heads. Maybe get in some quality time with the daddy. Or maybe just sit and stare off into space.

Baby S, when you were a newborn and even up until six months, you were so easy. Take you to bed, pop a boob in your mouth, let you nurse for a bit and watch you fall asleep. Maybe you would wake up in an hour or so- no problem. I'd just come and lay down next to you, pop a boob in your mouth again, and voila! Sleeping baby once again.

Well, at ten months these boobs aren't as magical as they once were. Or maybe you have grown immune to my boobie magic? Somehow my magic milk now seems to have the opposite effect- I feed you, and it seems to give you super baby energy power. You pop up faster than I can lay you back down, smiling and laughing as if it were 11:00 in the morning. And it's not- it's 8:00 pm. Or 10:00 pm. Or 11:30 pm. Or whatever sensible or way past sensible hour in the evening that it is when I am trying (yet again) to put you to sleep.

I've tried everything- bedtime routines, chamomile roman in your bath, carrying you in the ergo, bouncing until every muscle in my body hurts, singing, tiring you out before bedtime, feeding you extra helpings of food, scenting your room with lavender, etc. And of course, the (not so) magic boobs. But you resist. You fight. You trick me- I think, Wow! 7:30 and she's asleep! A whole night to myself! And then, it seems, my thoughts rouse you from your slumber and you laugh in my face as if saying, Get real mama. That was just a nap.


It is currently 8:42 pm. After much crying, and a full 20 minutes of bouncing and dancing you in the Ergo followed by 10 minutes of laying at your side, you are asleep. Please let this be for good- at least until 6:00 am or so. Mama needs her Desperate Housewives...

Sigh.

the crab

Today we went to a birthday party at my partner's cousin's house. I was looking forward to it- plenty of cousins and aunties who love to engage and cuddle with Toddler B, and (I thought) Baby S is now at the stage where she can play on the floor with the other babies and toddlers and amuse herself. I imagined a couple of hours of sitting back and gabbing with the cousins, stress free.

Wrong.

What happened? First mistake- while we waited to leave so that Toddler B could have a nice long nap, we didn't bother trying to put Baby S down for a nap since I figured that she would sleep on the long car ride and continue sleeping for a bit once we got there. Seemed like a good plan, and got off to a good start- she fell asleep immediately in the car and even slept once we got there... for about 3 minutes. Perhaps I should have put her in the quiet bedroom instead of leaving her in the noisy living room. Oops. First step to the crab.

granny's baby superstitions

Vintage breast pump

This is an excerpt from the book 

Granny's Recipes, Remedies and Helpful Hints

- a fun little book filled with country lore and wisdom from the turn of the century.


SUPERSTITIONS REGARDING BABIES

It is believed by many that if a child cries at it's birth and lifts up only one hand, it is born to command.

It is thought very unlucky not to weigh the baby before it is dressed. When first dressed, the clothes should not be put on over the head, but drawn on over the feet, for luck.

When first taken from the room in which it was born it must be carried upstairs before going down, so that it will rise in the world. In any case, it must be carried upstairs or up the street, the first time taken out.

It is also considered in England and Scotland unlucky to cut the baby's nails or hair before it is twelve months old.

The saying:

Born on Monday, fair of face;
Born on Tuesday, full of God's grace;
Born on Wednesday, the best to be had; 
Born on Thursday, merry and glad; 
Born on Friday, worthily given;
Born on Saturday, work hard for a living; 
Born on Sunday, shall never know want,

evening breastfeeding humor

From Breastfeeding Health and Happiness:

There are mannequins with nipples, mannequins in all different colors and sizes.. why not nursing mannequins? I want to shop at this store!

morning humor

Ladies, have you had these moments? I have!!

i can breastfeed too!

This post is part of the weekly Breastfeeding Blog Hop sponsored by Life With Levi. Join up!


As you might know, Toddler B (my first child) was not a breastfeeding champ. Due to her extreme special needs, she was a very challenging eater. She never wanted to latch. In fact, she would scream as if in pain every time I got my nipple near her.

Back then, this killed me. Knowing what I know now, however, I understand- she hates putting things in her mouth. It's a miracle that we ever got her to take a bottle! A lot of our therapy now focuses on getting her used to oral stimulation.

Which makes this especially hilarious: When Baby S was born, she breastfed. A lot. And Toddler B was right there, looking on. About three days in, as I settled down to feed Baby S, Toddler B settled down with Daddy- to breastfeed.

magic boobs

My partner thinks I have magic boobs.

Ok, I agree with him most of the time. I have these two things on my body that manufacture milk that is the sole nourishment of my baby. How cool is that?

What annoys me is when my magic boobs are supposed to cure everything. I can't tell you how many times I've heard this: Just put her on your boob and then she'll feel better/ fall asleep/ stop being crabby/ etc.


Frustrating. Why? Because it doesn't always work. Just because I "put her on my boob" doesn't mean she'll fall asleep. Just because I "put her on my boob" doesn't mean that she'll instantly be happy. Sometimes she just doesn't want to eat! What do I do then? Wave my magic boob in her face and mutter abracadabra?!?

I've realized this is his way to get out of all sorts of undesirable baby situations. Baby crying? Well, I can't fix it because I don't have boobs. Here- you take her. You have the magic boobs. Frustrating, annoying, and sometimes fight-worthy. How I wish that he could breastfeed, so I could do the same thing to him. He doesn't understand how I feel, or at least, he claims not to (when convenient).

If only I did have magic boobs. I'd wave them around, shooting glitter out of them a la Sleeping Beauty. Granting wishes for babies far and wide. Spreading calm and happiness across the land.

No, I just have regular boobs. Not magic, but pretty special and amazing anyways.

my baby is a hoover

Something is wrong. I don't think I have a human baby. She is some sort of demon vacuum dressed up like a precious baby girl.

Baby S has the most powerful suck ever possessed by a baby, coupled with a desire to suck anything in front of her. Great when the nipple is there. Bad for her toys, the rug, her hands, my hands, my arms, my back, my legs, my stomach, and anything else that gets in her way.

Woe to the person who accidentally puts an unassuming piece of flesh in her eyesight.

breastfeeding activities #2

Part 2 in a series- things to do while breastfeeding.


BREASTFEEDING ACTIVITY #2: Try not to breathe in.

This one may not always apply. When it does, you'll know it.

My baby is a farter. A disgusting farter. Her farts are so big, loud and stinky that they can clear a room. They have cleared the room, in fact- multiple times! I'll never forget the first time a family friend held her. She was waxing poetic over how gorgeous Baby S was when a loud fart erupted from her bottom. The friend laughed- until the smell hit her nose, she started gagging, and quickly passed off Baby S (who thought it was quite funny).

Baby S has two favorite farting times:

the bird

Does your baby do the bird?

Mine does. A one-sided flap. Uh...huh?

She turned into the bird baby one night a couple of weeks ago. Just out of the blue- wakes up, turns to me to feed, latches on, and then starts flapping her arm up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Hard. I finally grabbed hold of one of her little hands and held it down. The need to flap finally wore away, she fed some more and fell back into deep sleep.

I thought it was a fluke... and then it came back. A couple of days later, during the day. All excited to feed, she settles down, latches on, and- the bird baby was back! Flap, flap, flap. Over and over again. Like some little bird poltergeist had taken over her body.

This particular bird ghost likes to come out at feeding time. Sure, she flaps her arms a lot now at other times, when she's excited, or to bang a toy. But the flapping really gets heavy during nursing time. I guess that means she really likes my milk?

Is it full of sunflower seeds? Geez.

my baby ate mcdonalds

My baby ate McDonalds today.

A cheeseburger, to be specific. With fries and a coke.

Alright, I lied. Two cheeseburgers. (Hey! I'm breastfeeding. I get hungry.)

Now I'm stuck with the guilty feeling. I know that the substances that I put into my body are secreted into my breast milk, for better (broccoli!) or for worse (see above).

 I try to eat well. I do eat well, actually. Mostly whole foods- lots of fresh vegetables and fruits. Whole grains. Little meat. Everything organic, and local when possible. Very little processed food- I spend a lot of time in the kitchen! I think about my health and the health of my baby- I want her to get all of the vitamins and nutrients she needs.

comic relief