Mother's Day Moon Walk

Happy Mother's Day!

K woke me chattering a mile a minute.

"Mommy, let's count....ABCDEFG...." No honey, that's the alphabet, counting goes like this.. 12345678...

"Oh yeah like at dance. 5-6-7-8...."

Sorta.

She started drawing "muvver's day" pictures for me. "Mom, do you want a tail?" HUH?! "I'm going to put a tail on you." Alrighty then.

DQ woke with tween angst and turns out she has a gnarley sore throat.

My boy jumped into bed and asked what was for breakfast. That was hubby's cue.

A few minutes later, after finding a box of broken eggs (?!), the scent of bacon filled the house. Bacon in bed is the best.

No real plans for Mother's Day. My mom is in Cabo San Lucas with my dad and their friends for a week, so they are living la vida loca I'm sure. The couple's daughter called me yesterday to let me know they all arrived safely and were already mid-fiesta en la playa. I guess my parents had one too many cervezas and forgot my phone number!

As for a big day, my honey took me to my fave local restaurant last night. Yum dinner and wine, and we ran into some people we knew, today was just mostly chillaxin'.

After a nice lunch, we strolled over and checked out some local stores. We headed into a thrift shop and while looking at junk antiques, My Boy started MOON-WALKING.

Yes, I said MOON-WALKING. It's his thing lately. It's hilarious mostly because he can't really do it at all, but he thinks he can.

So, we're in this "antique" shop looking at DVDs and My Boy decides he wants to moon-walk in the shop. So he "does" and falls backwards right into a box of old hammers.

I cannot make this up.

I try not to laugh and this lady looks at me like I'm a horrible mother. I mean, he's okay, his wrist is a little sore, but generally, just embarassed. I'm only laughing at the fact that my son just got injured MOON-WALKING. It's a story to tell. Thank god for this blog so I can share it with the world 10's of you reading!

It's been a great day, thanks to my whole family for loving me, cooking for me, and making me laugh!

Living With a Tween.

Living with a TWEENager is like living with a great white shark.

They'll circle you and circle you until they attack.

Hormones and attitude and mood swings oh my!

Truly, you never know what they want.

At any moment there can be a fountain of tears.

A sudden rage.

A bountiful amount of hugs and kisses.

I'm so confused.

It's like walking on land mines.

"It's not fair!"

"I am SO old enough."

"You don't even care!"

"You don't understand!"

Oh I do.

I remember what it was like being you.

I was you.

Now I'm the mom.

*Sigh*

Actions-reactions-cause-effect-behavior-consequences.

House rules-family rules.

Why can't you go to a public event unsupervised!?

You are too young.

I know your friend's mom is letting her go.

It's not you I worry about, it's the other people.

You'll understand one day.

When you're a mom.

May Day May Day!!

Where is the time going?

It's MAY already??

It's May sixth for pete's sake!

By the way, who is this Pete guy?

Didn't I just say Happy New Year and propose my list of inaccomplishable (new word, look it up) resolutions!?

We're really almost half way through '09.

Holy smokes.

DQ just mentioned there were 21 days left of school.

WHAT!?

Summer vacation already!

*Whine*Cry*Sob*

This all means that...

-end of the school year gifts
-dance recitals
-yearbooks
-Open House
-THE VIDEO for fifth grade students
-report cards
-hearing about our school transfer request
-summer clothes shopping
-end of the year dance party
-end of the year baseball party
-summer dance sign ups
-vacation house rental $$ due
-me in a bathing suit

*hold on while I get a paper bag to breathe into*

It also means my oldest will be heading to SIXTH grade.

My youngest will take her first ballet/tap class.

She'll also be getting ready for preschool.

Oh.

My.

God.

Time, could ya slow down, just a tad?!

Showering with Barbie

Had it really been 2 days since I last showered?

UGH.

Truth be told, it was TIME.

You know you have that feeling like, I cannot wait one more day second, I need to shower NOW!

So as perfect timing had it, I was home mid-day with K. Blerg.

Bribery works, so I grabbed her favorite snack and drink, put on a Strawberry Shortcake flick and grabbed my robe.

I thought, oh yeah, I have a good 20 minutes before she'd come knocking.

Just as I'm adjusting the water to HOT, I hear footsteps, then the door opening.

"Wutcha doin'?"

Um honey, mommy's in the shower.

"Me want to take one too."

You don't like showers, you can have a bath tonight.

pulling the curtain back "Mommy, you taking a shower wiss my Darbie?"

Clearing the shampoo out of my eyes, Um, I guess, as I see her on the shelf by my razor.

Honey, you're missing your movie, mommy will be out in a minute!

"My don't want to watch dat."

Great.

"Mommy you wash my Darbie's hayur, it's duhtee."

I'm on it.

Scrubbing away as quickly as possible, I dream of long hot showers and babysitters.

"Mommy you done?"

Almost! As I frantically rinse the soap out of my hair and attack my pits with the razor, trying not to cut myself up.

I shut the water off and grab my towel.

4 minutes, maybe 5. Sigh.

So not what I had in mind.

K walks out of the bathroom.

Where ya goin' K?!

"To watch my movie!!"

Figures.
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*don't forget about my $250 Visa Card Giveaway, contest ends 7/8/09*

Baby Names

The name game.

Remember that?

When you're pregnant you start envisioning the girl names and the boy names.

You practice writing your Christmas Card signature, "Love, The Mom, The Dad, DQ, My Boy, K, and....George..

Nope.

....and Lois..

Nah.

....and little Clementine..

No, this isn't 1950.

I became an aunt again this week. Hubs' brother and his wife.

A new nephew who is yet to be named.

His big sister was named after 3 days I believe. This little guy...well it's still early.

My kids have suggestions for their aunt and uncle.

EAST, Bob, Cam, Justin, North, South, BOY, Phineas, Ferb. You know, all the normal names.

Such an important thing...a name.

Hubby always told people we wanted to see what the baby looked like.

That wasn't true, we had our names picked ahead of time.

As soon as the baby was here, we found out the sex, he or she had their name.

It fit, no matter what.

Except for my brother and SIL. She had a name chosen. Until my dad mentioned, "REECE...like the Peanut Butter Cup?!?!"

Let's just say his name was changed soon after that.

Then you have the celebs...Josh Holloway just named his baby girl, JAVA. The Nake Chef, Jamie Oliver, his daughter is Petal Blossom, with sisters, Poppy and Daisy.

Makes Rumer and Tallulah sound like Jennifer and Michael.

What are your kids' names? If you have "unique" names, why?!

The Early Days of Motherhood, part four

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

My Boy was born March, 12, 2001. From the beginning I knew in my heart I was going to bottle-feed.

My Hubby knew it too. He wanted me too. He knew what my past experience had done to me.

I didn't even try to nurse.

I had some very pro-nursing nurses in the hospital that questioned my decision and tried to get me to change. I didn't budge.

After about 3 weeks home with our second child, something new began.

COLIC.

No sleep for baby. No sleep for mom and dad.

Crampy, gassy, fussy, sleep-deprived baby. Crazed mom.

For the love of all that is good in the world, why didn't you nurse? See what YOU've done?!

At this point there was no way I was going to attempt to go backwards and take my son off formula and try and "charge up" my breasts to nurse.

It can happen. It's about supply with demand. Breast economics.

Not going to happen for me.

We tried soy, Nutramigen, Alimentum, lactose-free. Burping over the shoulder, burping across the knee, burping bent at the stomach.

Swirling the bottle vs. shaking it. Burping after 1 oz. Burping after 1/2 oz. I even burped a few times, but it didn't help him.

Gas drops in the bottle. More water. Less milk at a sitting. Sleeping propped up.

Short from standing on my head while feeding him, nothing helped.

Deep within me depression reared it's head. Post-partum or not. Because of the bottle feeding issues or because of the colic, it began...again.

Mother-failure.

Time went by and finally, thanks to Yaya and going against all that was right with child-rearing, we put My Boy to bed on his stomach.

GASP. That's not right, all the books say.... all the experts say..... everyone knows that that is taboo. Well, my mom's view was that I grew up sleeping on my stomach and I'm okay. We tried it.

Just that slight pressure on My Boy's tummy worked wonders. Of course our crib monitor was nearly tucked in his diaper every night to keep tabs on his safety, but he was sleeping. He wasn't as whiny, and less gassy.

So I'm the non-nursing mother who puts her kid to sleep against the rules.

Rebel.

Will all of this continue to affect my life 10 years later. Yes. And no.

Am I different from normal moms? Yes and no.

Am I worse than a normal mom? No.

Did I go against the grain? Yes and no.

Will I always feel judged? Yes.

Do I care anymore? No, not really. I cared enough to write about it. To heal my heart. To possibly connect to someone else who felt the same way. I worried about the comments. But, I shouldn't. This is MY story. It can't be told any other way.

Did I nurse my 3rd child? No. And, finally I don't regret a minute of it. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. My love for them always has been the truest of feelings that cannot be affected by something so trivial.

The First Days of Motherhood, part three

Part One
Part Two

So that first outing with baby was a doozy, well at least for me.

You get the oohing and aahhing and then one peek at a bottle and POOF!

The nosiness kicks in.

The common sense filters are shut off.

People say the RUDEST things.

Oh are you bottlefeeding? Translation: You are giving your baby poison.

What happened, couldn't you nurse? Um, excuse me, STRANGER, none of your beeswax.

You know that nursing is healthier for the baby, it gives them so many more antibodies!! Really, I hadn't read that in all 200 books I'd read.

You were one of THOSE. Well, ship me off to Exile Island.

Sure, all the sarcasm was in my head. All I could do was bow my head in shame and just pray that my daughter's health was going to be okay regardless of my worthless milk-makers.

And, that praying didn't help.

The more I was exposed to friends, family, strangers, the more stories I heard.

The all my kids just couldn't get enough of the boob stories don't help at all. Do people just say things like this to push the knife in just a little deeper?!

It worked for you fabulous. Don't bring it up to me during my struggle.

As much as I wanted to say, wanted to believe, I was doing the right thing for me and my baby, the more I caved and just let all the words hurt more and more.

You're always told that the most unsolicited advice will come after you have a baby.

It's true.

DQ became afflicted with ear infections at about 6 months on. Pretty consistently that she was put on preventative antibiotics, and would still get them.

The comments came. More were fabricated in my head. If you had breastfed, she wouldn't be dealing with this.

If, only.

All nursing children are healthy as horses. I know that's not true.

But, I beat myself up emotionally.

For 3 years I heard it all.

Bottle feeders will get rotten teeth.

Bottle feeders will be sicker kids.

Bottle feeders won't go to college.

Okay I made that one up, but where did it end? Why are people so merciless? Why can't they keep their words to themselves and accept that everyone does things differently and in the long run, whether my children were fed from formula or mother's milk won't matter!?!?!?!

It's not on the college application.

It won't be in a job interview.

It won't make or break finding a mate and living happily ever after.

It just won't.

Stop placing breast-feeding moms on a pedestal and formula-feeding moms beneath them.

When DQ was 2 years, 4 months old, I was pregnant with My Boy. First thing I thought...will I even try nursing or go straight to the bottle?

....Part 4.

The First Days of Motherhood, part two

Part One

I went to the nursery and scanned my detailed notes.

And by notes, I mean the chicken-scratch that is my tally marks on post-its of wet diapers and mustard-filled.

There are guidelines to follow when nursing, was I doing it right?

Those newborn diapers were so small, how could even tell if they were really wet. Was she drinking enough to produce enough output? Newborn breastfeeders poop like around the clock. That wasn't happening here.

Had my milk come in? What does that even mean?! I suddenly felt like a child. Helpless, incapable.

Something so important and supposedly natural, and private, and the bonding, the bonding would be so special... and....and....and....

Fail.

Stop the madness.

Hubby cracked open a supplementary bottle, that somehow appeared in our kitchen. Did the nurse bring it, did it come home in our bag of goodies?! Who knows. It was time.

My poor starved child inhaled the bottle like a champ.

A million emotions flooded me. Guilt being the main one.

Hubby was thrilled. Not only was the baby content, but he was involved. From the beginning Hubby was the husband and father you would dream of. Now, he would share feedings with me, be the equal partner that he wanted to be.

I saw this as a sign. An opportunity to sleep, but also a weight off my shoulders. I can do both. A little bonus formula will help me out until I can produce more milk.

Days would pass. I talked to friends. I should be feeling "full" if my milk was in. Heavy. Pain like you need to feed to relieve yourself. I had none of that. DQ still had the same latch, it seemed right, but we now had purchased cans of formula and were using them after each breastfeeding session.

Trying the pump one afternoon, I realized there was next to nothing coming out. Huh?!

Every two hours, was I doing nothing but providing a fleshy pacifier for my daughter?

I consulted a friend from our mom's group, a lactation consultant. I was offered sessions where she'd help, and was told to STOP the BOTTLE completely, it's too early and will cause nipple confusion.

My nipples and my brain were confused. Fabulous combo.

My head spun. My heart sank. This isn't working for me.

We decided to bottle feed exclusively.

At home, things began to smooth out. Sleeping for all of us increased. Taking turns worked itself out between Hubby and I. DQ was happy. Healthy. Growing.

It wasn't until I stepped out into public and realized what lied ahead.

.....Part 3.

The First Days of Motherhood, Part One

Looking back on those few days before my first born arrived, I try and remember how quiet our house was.

How the walls knew nothing of crayon or pencil markings.

The carpet was absent of juice, ketchup, and vomit stains.

The walls had virgin ears to the cries of a hungry infant.

Those days were also anxious for a new start, a new beginning, a new life.

The nursing bras were bought. The pads, the pump, all ready. Not a can of formula in sight.

Why? I was going to nurse my child. It's what was expected of me. Of mothers. What I had planned.

I set high expectations.

No supplementing, too costly. No bottles, just me, and my baby, my body.

The rush to put the baby to breast in the hospital was a blur. This nurse on this shift said the football hold is best.

That nurse on that shift said I should lay down.

Some nurses forceful and adamant that only breast is best.

Got it, taking mental notes.

Getting home.

Around the clock, feeding the baby. Am I doing it right, is she getting enough?

Who knows? Boobs and babies don't come with fuel tank gauges.

I will not supplement. It's not okay.

Okay for who? Baby, me? Society.

Struggling, not happy, not full, baby needs something.

I call the nurses station at the hospital 3 days later. An old family friend stops by. Comes to my bedroom to latch baby on. Latch isn't proper. Baby is starving.

Many nights those first days I remember crying myself to a mock-sleep. You know, the kind you get after a newborn.

Hubby is lost, he cannot produce milk. Knows we have alternatives.

No. Breast is best. The only way.

You don't have struggle, it's only one little bottle, a little help.

Defeated. I caved. In my mind, my heart. One bottle, then I will figure this game out. It's supposed to be natural, not this hard!

Where are the rainbows, the unicorns, the fairies dancing around. You know how new motherhood is portrayed in the movies. Where was my silver lining?

Already my mind and my heart were fighting, neither was winning.

....Part 2