My People

I have a bone to pick. And the curious thing is that it's with a group I would consider 'My People': the crunchy, granola-eating, baby-wearing, co-sleeping Mamas. The problem is, these are also breastfeeding Mamas. And recently, I've been going through a love-hate conundrum with breastfeeding...ok, scratch that. This just in: I Don't Like Breastfeeding. At the moment, I actually hate it. But really, I just personally don't like it.

*pause for shocked gasps*

'My people' are now running for the hills. I hope they took some granola with them so they don't starve to death.

Now, let me start by saying I have nothing against anyone else breastfeeding. On the contrary, I think everyone should breastfeed...even the ones who hate it. Which is probably another factor that is making me hate the effort I have to put into it even more. Is this making any sense? Didn't think so.

Moving on!

I know it's most likely because I'm dealing with supply issues again and supplementing with formula, but I keep noticing articles and studies on breastfeeding that go something along these lines: If you don't breastfeed your baby, you are a bad mother and your child will most likely die a horrible, horrible death. By the way, you're to blame.

Maybe I'm projecting a bit.

I'm not going to argue that there's a better option than breastfeeding, just that it might not be feasible for some women to breastfeed and function in modern society at the same time. If it were several thousand years ago and I had the same issues with breastfeeding, I would have no problem living with my little village of neanderthal peeps, spending the day doing nothing but nursing my baby. Actually, if I could get away with it now, I would have no qualms playing that card either:

• "Hey, babe. Sorry I didn't have time to shower, brush my teeth, shop for groceries or make dinner because I had a baby attached to my chest all day. How was your day banging rocks together? Should we ask Thor next door if we can have some of his baked lizard for dinner?"

Not gonna fly.

Unnecessary, self-inflicted guilt aside, I realize that most people who are trying to educate the masses on this topic likely have impoverished, uneducated people in mind. But it is really humiliating to be a crunchy mom lumped in with the 'poor, stupid crowd' because I use formula.

Being a mom is hard work and sometimes you have to weigh your options (and then weigh them again...and again...and again) before coming up with a solution that is best for you and your kids. And then try really really hard not to let anyone else make you believe you're wrong.

On that note, anyone have a spare set of unused, lactating breasts laying around that I could borrow?

Thanks!

What's Buried In Your Back Yard?

We spent the morning today rototilling the crud out of the Back Forty and found an old blue tarp, lots of scrap wood, and two large metal poles buried in the yard.

As far as what's buried in our next door neighbor's yard? I'm betting there's at least one dead husband...but we don't have any proof of that.

A New Age in Parenting

It's difficult to explain, but this week really seems like it has become a turning point in Audrey's development. Even though we are working on potty training, the change I feel is not something concrete I can pin point and record in my blog like first teeth or learning to crawl. This time, it's more a sense of my big girl actually growing up.

It all started this monday with a playdate; my friend Shauna brought over her little girl, Alivia, who is four months older than Audrey. These two haven't gotten to play one-on-one in a long time and this week they actually got to communicate with each other and work on things like sharing or follow the leader. (Have I mentioned Audrey can be a bossy bit of goods?) Audrey and Alivia were so sweet, holding hands, walking with their arms around each other, giving hugs and reading together. Now, to anyone else with a 2o month old, this may not seem Earth-shattering, but Audrey is more or less a stay-at-home kind of gal. She's not accustomed to playing with other kids and when she does, she's usually more of a wall flower; she likes to stay on the sidelines and check things out. I guess this is what seems to be changing; she's starting to become 'one of the kids' and it makes me proud to see her growing.

In direct contrast to our chill playdate that morning, the Moore kids came to town the same day to stay with us for spring break. Unlike every other time they've come to town, Audrey was immediately swept away with enthusiasm for the kids. Almost as soon as they got to the house, John and I took the crew out to Hubby's Pizza to burn off some energy from being cooped up in the car all day. When we got there, Audrey was shepherded out to the playground with everyone else; I don't think I've ever seen her as happy as she was playing on the carousel with the rest of the kids. I was sitting inside at our table with the Gunniwolf asleep on my chest watching someone else's children love on mine and I almost started crying. It was a beautiful thing.

Speaking of beautiful things, Duck loves babies...to the point of holding mine almost all day so I can get things done around the house. I recall having once criticized someone for hiring a mother's helper. I take it back.

Oh, and remember how I said we were at a standstill in potty training? It was all because I'm a big wuss and don't feel like cleaning pee-soaked car seats. Well, I decided to stop being a wuss and take advantage of having a mother's helper. I've actually been keeping Audrey in big girl undies all day. (except naps--I just can't bring myself to the commitment of picking up a grumpy, pee-soaked dragon who won't let me change her because it normally takes her at least half an hour to wake up enough to detach herself from my body as is.) Aside from napping, things on the potty front are going really well; she's getting quick at letting us know when she needs to go. And it's not just Audrey who's been thrown into a whole new world of awareness; I've been thrown into the world of 'where is the closest bathroom?'. And as most mothers know, kids don't care whether you're at the mall or in the car; you could be traveling to Mars for all they care: you better be paying attention to where the nearest potty is. I'm working on getting better at it, but there should seriously be an app for that.

Return of the Butter-Haired Dragon

*I originally started this post days ago and am leaving the original post date. You're not crazy; I'm lazy.

'Heavy Lies the Crown' is one of the classic burdens of the firstborn child; a duty to set a good example, a feeling of responsibility for younger siblings, growing up a little faster than the others in order to do your part in the family. These things can be a little stressful...especially when you happen to be all of 20 months old. Let's just say that my oldest had a little meltdown today...and she strategically timed it while we were at the pediatrician's office.

Lately, we've all been feeling a little sick and when Audrey feels crummy, you can tell. It's in the puffiness around her glassy eyes and the never-ending stream of " uppy? uppy? uppy?? UPPY!! UPPY!!!! AAAAAGGGHHHH!" She's a real treat when she's down in the dumps. I was starting to fear that my sweet, crazy butter-haired dragon had been replaced permanently by this demanding, temperamental toddler.

Then magically, yesterday the monster was gone. I had a daughter who could actually smile and play independently. She laughed and wrestled with me on the floor after nap time. She ate her snacks and her dinner without going into hysterics. (She also peed in her high chair, but that's another story) It was amazing and I was starting to hope that this would become the new 'normal'

And then I ruined it all by taking her to satan's lair...did I say that? I meant to the pediatrician.

To be fair, she gave the place a chance. It took about two minutes before she realized where we were and what happened last time we were there. By the time we were shown back to the exam room, she was glued to my side, crying and had defaulted to 'just answer 'no' to any question Mom asks' mode. I brought with me an arsenal of distractions: pens, blankies, doodlewriters, crackers, cool water bottles...NOTHING would distract her from the thought that she might be about to die a horrible death. And she wasn't even the one we were there for.

It was Bailey's two month appointment. True to Gunniwolf form, she was happy as a clam the entire time we were there. She cooed and smiled when the doctor examined her--she even gurgled a semi-laugh when Dr. D touched her belly with the stethoscope. The little rump roast has porked up to a bit over 10 lbs and is now 23 inches long. That means she's still in the 50th percentile for weight and has jumped to the 75th percentile for height. I had an inkling she was going through a growth spurt as she seemed to develop triple chins in the span of four days since switching to bottles. It could have something to do with the fact that she's taking 6 oz. at every feeding now. I was getting worried (even though your kid getting too much to eat seems like a strange concern to me) but it turns out that some babies just have a larger stomach capacity and Bailey is one of them (sorry if your siblings take that one and run with it, Gunni.) Anyway, the fantastic news about this is that because she can eat so much, Bailey can go longer than the average infant between meals. This translates to 4-hour stretches of sleep at night. And I've lost track of how many times she's slept the entire night in the bassinet. Talk about polar opposite of her sister!

Speaking of which, remember where we were...back at the doctor's office? Audrey was resembling an ostrich with her head firmly burrowed in my neck, sure that at any moment she would be eaten alive. In her defense, she was there to get two vaccinations and I had to restrain her in a bear hug so the doctor could give them to her. After that whole ordeal, Dr. D asked if we had given Audrey candy yet. I declared it was definitely the time to start. She returned with a watermelon dum dum. Audrey held out her hand demandingly and later walked out of the office, tear and slobber stains soaking her shirt, with her sticky sugar-coated hand in mine. My sweet little dragon had come back! She sang me songs in the car on the way home.

Moral of this story? Life doesn't necessarily seem to be getting any easier, but it sure does feel blessed.

...And Then There Were None

Wow, this past week has flown! Uncle Joe and Auntie Em both ventured to the Great Northwest this week to get in some quality time with the Gunniwolf and the Dragon. Most of our activities included cooking, eating what we just cooked, planning what to cook next and hanging out with the girls. Needless to say, it was a good week and we're all a little bummed that Joe and Em had to head back home. Emily was lucky enough to have a break from working on her thesis while she was here and subsequently got sick while she was on vacation. (Ain't life grand?) Lil A and I are both feeling a little yucky too and I'm thinking we all have some random passenger on a flight from the East Coast to thank for it. Yet another reason the West is best.

Uncle Joe had a pretty productive visit; John sent his resume to a few project managers at the Lab last month and one of them called Joe to come in for an interview while he was in town. It seems like it went pretty well and he's expecting a call for a second interview in the next few weeks. I'm trying not to get too excited at the prospect, but it would be so great to have Joe living in the Tri-Cities. We like him a lot. And Audrey loves shouting "Hey Joe!!" ... So, it would really work out well for all parties involved.

Next on the list for me to convert to the West Coast? Emily and Mike.

This is really just an elaborate scheme for me to have people to play Settlers of Catan with living near me.

In other news, we continue to potty train. Like everything else in my life right now, my efforts to get Audrey potty trained have been pretty half-donkeyed (that's a nice little taste of the creative profanity I've become accustomed to using) If we're home, I try to keep Audrey in undies, but change her into a diaper while she's sleeping or if we're going out. I just don't have the energy/hands to deal with pee-soaked bed sheets or car seats right now.

So Audrey is half potty trained and we're more or less at a standstill for the moment.

In Bailey news: Since I've been feeling under the weather for the past few days, it has really come to my attention how much she is attached to my person...sleep-nursing. And it's exhausting. Bailey is the epitome of a lazy nurser. It seems like she will nurse until she decides she's not starving anymore and then fall asleep for 2-15 minutes. Wake up. Nurse. Fall asleep. Repeat. I thrive when on a schedule, but not one that repeats itself randomly every 5 to 30 minutes. Needless to say, being drained from being sick all day yesterday, I finally got fed up and declared my intent to exclusively pump for Bailey.

This is a huge decision. It means I'm willingly committing to being home so I can pump every 2-3 hours. And thanks to my experience breastfeeding Audrey, I have a lot of contempt for that darn pump. Even so, I can't see myself ever getting Bailey on a real schedule unless she's eating regularly and, unfortunately, expressing milk for her is my only option if I want the best of both worlds. I would love to make it a whole year, but I think six months is optimistic as is. Here's hoping!

Other than eating delicious food, feeling sicky and lamenting my daughter's lazy attitude towards eating, we've just been taking things one day at a time. Things are really still touch and go, but we're working toward that feeling of 'normal'. If I've learned anything about parenting, it's once you think you've got something figured out, it all changes. I doubt at least that will change anytime soon.

Also, I should not have put a picture of a Swedish Fish on my blog. Every time I see it I start jonesing for one. Gah!

The Fishy Says: You Stink!

There are a select few people who will understand what that means and even fewer who were in on the original joke. For the rest of you, this means I may or may not have single-handedly polished off a half pound of Swedish Fish and I will never finish a blog post about our trip to the Oregon Coast. It was awesome. I'm going to bed with a clear conscience now.

I've been busy...

busy unpacking. In the mean time, enjoy the pictures! Full story to follow.