Sunday Fun-day. Ok, so maybe we didn't get to do anything "fantasical" as I had originally hoped for, but we did have a good day. I felt expidetiously better today. Brand new. It's amazing, when you are getting over a horrible sickness, it just disappears as quickly as it surfaced and then it's like you can hardly remember how terrible you felt. I had my energy back, my spirits were high, and I was ready for some fresh air and sunshine. And I got both. However, I did get wind, very much unwelcomed wind that seems to be plaguing the central coast. But it barely put a damper on my mood. Anthony, Vincent and I ate clam chowder down by the water at our favorite local spot; he had beer and I had a root beer. In another post, that will be completed in a weeks time, I will explain the reason for my root beer, wait...what was I saying?
Oh ya! After our "beers" and chowder we strapped Vincent in his backpack and we walked the Embarcadero, window shopped, shop-shopped, and enjoyed looking out at the ocean, something that becomes so easy to take for granted, having lived next to it your whole life. But on certain days, days like this, you take it in, enjoy the moment, refresh yourself in its scent. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I had been on lockdown in my 2 bedroom house for over two days and any slight touch of the outside world would have made my insides tingle. Whatever it was, it was a nice day.
I have made a decision today as well. I am no longer planning on putting an immediate end to Vincent's breastfeeding extravaganza. Of course, I don't want a 2 year sucking away all night and day, I have decided that I will not abruptly deprive him of something he loves so much. I have thought long and hard about this. I am nearing his first birthday and I never really thought that I would get that sentimental and sad over his entering his toddler years, but I think I just might. There will come a time, probably much sooner than I realize, where Vincent won't even want to hug me in public or let me kiss those gorgeous Shiloh Jolie-Pitt lips. Right now is the only time for me to enjoy this closeness. Breastfeeding has brought us so close together and I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye just yet.
Check back in a few days. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm ridiculously indecisive.
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Secret Mommy Woes
I have come to the distressing conclusion that I will have a five year old boy who will wake up numerous times a night to crawl into bed with mommy and suck on her boob. Who will follow me around, tugging on my pants leg, begging for a boob. Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but I am no where near a future where my boobs belong to me, and only me, and are no longer the object of desire for anyone – well I guess maybe my husband, but I’m guessing that once these bad boys are no longer filled with ample milk and in turn become deflated water balloons that sag towards my belly button, he will not be quite as interested in them as he once was. Here’s to hoping!
I am at an absolute loss of what to do with this whole weaning thing. Where do I even begin? I’m done. I am 100% done with this breastfeeding thing. Don’t misunderstand me; it has been an extraordinary bonding experience. There have been countless smiles and giggles when I look down at my son, sucking his little heart out, with those huge eyes staring back at me. It has been a marvelous experience, one I will always look back on fondly. Blah Blah Blah. But I have been exclusively breastfeeding for nearly a year now, with no bottle breaks, and I am spent. I am ready for a night away with my husband to a romantic hotel. I am ready to go out to dinner with my girlfriends without having to worry that my child is at home crying, feigning for a nursie. I have given up a lot to be a breastfeeding mother, and I do not regret it, but I am ready to have that little part of me back. I vow to make this happen. But again, I don’t know where to begin! Any advice is warmly welcomed! This is one of the few times where I ask for advice, so if you have any, I’m all ears!
Another secret, looming fear I have is that my son will never walk. Yes, I know he is only 11 months old and it is universally acceptable for children to not walk until they are even 15 months old. But I can’t help it! I’m worried my son will be 2, crawling around on the floor looking up at everything around him and not being a part of that great big world up there. Of course there is that hidden rational self somewhere deep down in me that knows he is completely normal, but my typical irrational self can’t help but wonder “will this child ever walk?” It doesn’t help when every Joe, Moe & Sally that I see in the grocery store always manages to mention “oh, so he must be walking now.” Well no, apparently my 11 month old non-walking son is just plain slow. Thank you. I used to be guilty of this kind of shit, too; always asking people if their baby was crawling or talking. But before I had Vincent my knowledge of babies was, well, non-existent. I had never changed a diaper or babysat once in my life. So when I asked the lady with a 3 month old if he was saying mama, or the lady with a 6 month old if she was walking, I probably came across as more ignorant and stupid than offensive. But I’ve made a secret promise to myself to never ask a mother if her child is doing this or doing that, because if any mother is like me, and they have to say “no, he doesn’t do that yet”, it deep down makes them feel like shit. So for anyone out there reading this, whether you have children or not, just don’t ask! Let them be the ones to proudly announce to everyone, even strangers at the grocery store (because they will) “My son is walking!! My son is talking!! THANK THE MOON AND THE STARS MY CHILD IS NORMAL!!
”
I am at an absolute loss of what to do with this whole weaning thing. Where do I even begin? I’m done. I am 100% done with this breastfeeding thing. Don’t misunderstand me; it has been an extraordinary bonding experience. There have been countless smiles and giggles when I look down at my son, sucking his little heart out, with those huge eyes staring back at me. It has been a marvelous experience, one I will always look back on fondly. Blah Blah Blah. But I have been exclusively breastfeeding for nearly a year now, with no bottle breaks, and I am spent. I am ready for a night away with my husband to a romantic hotel. I am ready to go out to dinner with my girlfriends without having to worry that my child is at home crying, feigning for a nursie. I have given up a lot to be a breastfeeding mother, and I do not regret it, but I am ready to have that little part of me back. I vow to make this happen. But again, I don’t know where to begin! Any advice is warmly welcomed! This is one of the few times where I ask for advice, so if you have any, I’m all ears!
Another secret, looming fear I have is that my son will never walk. Yes, I know he is only 11 months old and it is universally acceptable for children to not walk until they are even 15 months old. But I can’t help it! I’m worried my son will be 2, crawling around on the floor looking up at everything around him and not being a part of that great big world up there. Of course there is that hidden rational self somewhere deep down in me that knows he is completely normal, but my typical irrational self can’t help but wonder “will this child ever walk?” It doesn’t help when every Joe, Moe & Sally that I see in the grocery store always manages to mention “oh, so he must be walking now.” Well no, apparently my 11 month old non-walking son is just plain slow. Thank you. I used to be guilty of this kind of shit, too; always asking people if their baby was crawling or talking. But before I had Vincent my knowledge of babies was, well, non-existent. I had never changed a diaper or babysat once in my life. So when I asked the lady with a 3 month old if he was saying mama, or the lady with a 6 month old if she was walking, I probably came across as more ignorant and stupid than offensive. But I’ve made a secret promise to myself to never ask a mother if her child is doing this or doing that, because if any mother is like me, and they have to say “no, he doesn’t do that yet”, it deep down makes them feel like shit. So for anyone out there reading this, whether you have children or not, just don’t ask! Let them be the ones to proudly announce to everyone, even strangers at the grocery store (because they will) “My son is walking!! My son is talking!! THANK THE MOON AND THE STARS MY CHILD IS NORMAL!!
”
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Lush
It is nearing 8:00pm and I am already holed up in my bedroom, comfortably nuzzled in between my sheets. It has been one hell of a weekend, full of excitement, full of family, and of course as usual, full of super good food. Every time my sister and her husband visit I can very well guarantee to put on at least a couple of pounds. They are two of the most amazing cooks I know and every meal they prepare is prepared with diligence and an abundance of love. You can taste the sincerity in their meals and it makes your tummy warm before you even take a bite.
The babies had their first official Easter egg hunt and just as I had originally presumed, we simply threw eggs about the lawn and then willingly stumbled around to grab them. It was completely simple and yet incredibly enjoyable to witness and be a part of. Those two little babies have grown tremendously in such a short amount of time - I can't hardly stand it! Lucy is beginning to walk more steady and with much more confidence. Her face just lights up with accomplishment when she steps her tiny little feet across the living room only to fall happily into your welcoming lap.
Vincent's impending first birthday has me thinking about boobs - mine that is. I always assumed I would breastfeed Vincent for the first year, as recommended, and then POOF we'd just stop. Now that 12 months of breastfeeding is right around the corner, I see no "poofing" happening anytime soon. Vincent is a boob man. Always has been. When he was 6 weeks old he defiantly pushed away any one's attempt at bottle feeding him and would cry out in agony until he got his fill from the real deal. I have yet to keep an accurate record, but if I were to have to guess how often Vincent breastfeeds I would estimate about 6-7 "nursies" (as we call them) a day and probably one or two at night. Nowhere near a slight wean is what I am getting at. How do I stop him from his strong suckling desire. I know for a fact that most of his nursies are for comfort and comfort only, not for food. He is a good eater when it comes to solids and can actually shovel in more than I could probably consume in one feeding. So although I know breastmilk is still good for them nutritionally, I don't believe Vincent needs to be breastfeeding as much as he does. I vow to begin my weening process at 12 months. I know I will need to work on this slowly, but I also know it will be HELL in this house during our weening process. I'm sure you will hear all about it when the time comes.
Seeing as it is Easter, I want to keep this post both positive and inspirational. So, as I leave you tonight to snuggle up with my husband, eat my Good & Plenty's and watch E! I wish you all a Happy Easter & a wonderful week ahead.
There is still much I'd like to bitch about, like the nagging cough I have that is keeping me up at night and the cough syrup my mother-in-law gave me this evening that apparently contained codeine and has me feeling high and lushed out, and the fact that my husband is pouring money into a motorcycle we never get to ride, and that I have $2000.00 in dental bills sitting on my table that I can't pay. But, like I said, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational....
The babies had their first official Easter egg hunt and just as I had originally presumed, we simply threw eggs about the lawn and then willingly stumbled around to grab them. It was completely simple and yet incredibly enjoyable to witness and be a part of. Those two little babies have grown tremendously in such a short amount of time - I can't hardly stand it! Lucy is beginning to walk more steady and with much more confidence. Her face just lights up with accomplishment when she steps her tiny little feet across the living room only to fall happily into your welcoming lap.
Vincent's impending first birthday has me thinking about boobs - mine that is. I always assumed I would breastfeed Vincent for the first year, as recommended, and then POOF we'd just stop. Now that 12 months of breastfeeding is right around the corner, I see no "poofing" happening anytime soon. Vincent is a boob man. Always has been. When he was 6 weeks old he defiantly pushed away any one's attempt at bottle feeding him and would cry out in agony until he got his fill from the real deal. I have yet to keep an accurate record, but if I were to have to guess how often Vincent breastfeeds I would estimate about 6-7 "nursies" (as we call them) a day and probably one or two at night. Nowhere near a slight wean is what I am getting at. How do I stop him from his strong suckling desire. I know for a fact that most of his nursies are for comfort and comfort only, not for food. He is a good eater when it comes to solids and can actually shovel in more than I could probably consume in one feeding. So although I know breastmilk is still good for them nutritionally, I don't believe Vincent needs to be breastfeeding as much as he does. I vow to begin my weening process at 12 months. I know I will need to work on this slowly, but I also know it will be HELL in this house during our weening process. I'm sure you will hear all about it when the time comes.
Seeing as it is Easter, I want to keep this post both positive and inspirational. So, as I leave you tonight to snuggle up with my husband, eat my Good & Plenty's and watch E! I wish you all a Happy Easter & a wonderful week ahead.
There is still much I'd like to bitch about, like the nagging cough I have that is keeping me up at night and the cough syrup my mother-in-law gave me this evening that apparently contained codeine and has me feeling high and lushed out, and the fact that my husband is pouring money into a motorcycle we never get to ride, and that I have $2000.00 in dental bills sitting on my table that I can't pay. But, like I said, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational....
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