Yesterday was my husband's birthday. This wouldn't be the sort of thing I'd write about except it makes me all the more selfish.
We have a son. Our son, Snapdragon (because man can that kid snap his jaw shut so hard & fast you'd swear his gums were metal) is 26 days old, and my spouse, well, he's just getting over his wobbly-head paranoia and getting comfortable with the notion of holding our Snapdragon.
Yesterday, Spouse was holding Snapdragon, smiling like something out of a horror flick, with the misguided notion that Snapdragon would smile back. If you have kids, I'm sure you remember the first few weeks of life when every facial contortion makes you hope against hope that your precious and perfect baby has finally a) noticed you, and b) taken to approving of your presence enough to smile instead of wailing in that heartwrenching way that can only mean one thing: feed me now. Did I mention he's a snapdragon?
So there sits Spouse, smiling like a serial killer clown or something, as I lay on the bed taking advantage of a few precious seconds of rest time while someone else is holding Snapdragon. You see, he really likes to be held, and if you have kids, I'm sure you remember how tiring the first weeks and months can be.
So I am laying there, watching Spouse smile like the Joker, silently mocking him in my head because I hold or play with or feed Snapdragon most of the day. he probably spends a cumulative 4 hours a day not being held or directly interacted with, and those hours are asleep. He typically sleeps touching mama, being held or holding my hand. So, since I spend the other 20 hours a day with Snapdragpn, I *know* that Spouse is wasting his time. The closest this kid comes to smiling is when he's got gas.
So of course, the inevitable announcement as my husband's face lights up like Christmas morning (and believe me, he believes in Christmas lights) as he aasy, "he's looking at me and smiling! Really smiling."
I smile cynically from the nearby pillow "don't worry, he's just gassy. Wait for it."
"No, he's really smiling."
I raise a skeptic eyebrow and close my eyes, secretly counting to 10, waiting for the burp, the fart, anything. 1...2...3... Then the panic sets in. What if Snapdragon's first smile really was at daddy? What if he didn't first smile at me? 10...11...12... Its like when babysitters and daycares get axed because they announce some kid's first steps to the mom without knowing how much of a biological imperative it is to hear the first word, see the first everything.18...19...20... So what if that really was Snapdragon's first smile?
25...26...27... I'm seriously getting worried here.
32...33.. BELCH.
I smile and giggle, secretly relieved that I still have a shot at that milestone. "See?" I practically sneer. He shrugs. I don't mention that gassy smiles and burping are usually a little, okay a lot more closely related. That's not the point. I still am on the roster for first smile, and that's all that mattered to me.
This morning Snapdragon woke up wet and crying from his cosleeper. As I pick him up he stops crying and makes eye contact. I smile. I love that he's finally making eye contact.
What's this? He's holding eye contact! Go Snapdragon, yay team eyes! Uhoh, something else is going on, I notice. He's smiling. Not the lopsided gassy smile, but this bright even and perfect smile. I wait for it. Where's the gas? No, he's smiling, and he's smiling at me!!! I could junp for joy and happy dance like I did when the stenchtastic grossarific cord stump came off. Snapdragon is smiling at me.
But wait, does this mean that he might have smiled at daddy first? I've decided to stip being selfish, and either way, his first smile goes down as on daddy's birthday, at daddy, in the baby book. Its a decent birthday present from a newborn, and I secretly can believe that his perfect smile, he saved that one for me.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Jury Duty and the Nursing Mama
I live in Illinois, and today got a jury summons in the mail.
For one horrified second I was picturing sitting in the jury box while gory details of a crime are being shown powerpoint style while Snapdragon nurses fitfully on my lap. Then a worse scenario occurred to me: Snapdragon crying for his mommy while some well intentioned family member tries to poke an artificial nipple in his mouth, meanwhile I'm stuck listening to poorly constructed arguments about how someone paperswindled someone else, bored out of my skull, milk running down my belly and worried that Snapdragon is inconsolable.
Don't get me wrong, I've always wanted to serve on a juryan so its not like I was looking for an out. That said, I was relieved to remember:
Public Act 094-0391 Exempts nursing mothers from jury service Effective Jan 1, 2006 The Jury Act was amended to include: “any mother nursing her child shall, upon request, be excused from jury service”.
I've already called and been told to disregard said summons.
Sometimes its nice to live in a breastfeeding-friendly state.
For one horrified second I was picturing sitting in the jury box while gory details of a crime are being shown powerpoint style while Snapdragon nurses fitfully on my lap. Then a worse scenario occurred to me: Snapdragon crying for his mommy while some well intentioned family member tries to poke an artificial nipple in his mouth, meanwhile I'm stuck listening to poorly constructed arguments about how someone paperswindled someone else, bored out of my skull, milk running down my belly and worried that Snapdragon is inconsolable.
Don't get me wrong, I've always wanted to serve on a juryan so its not like I was looking for an out. That said, I was relieved to remember:
Public Act 094-0391 Exempts nursing mothers from jury service Effective Jan 1, 2006 The Jury Act was amended to include: “any mother nursing her child shall, upon request, be excused from jury service”.
I've already called and been told to disregard said summons.
Sometimes its nice to live in a breastfeeding-friendly state.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Supporting the tatas.
So you've made the choice to breastfeed your youngling. Great. One of the first things you need to think about, then, is how you plan to make sure the tatas are supported. Before you run out and buy a good quality and well fitting nursing bra, there is another kind of support you need to get under control.
Emotional support.
Find out how your family feels about breastfeeding. Did your mom breastfeed you? Does your DH support the idea? Talk to your family and friendas about their feelings on breastfeeding, find out what their experiences and expectations are.
Now, when you find out that your DH thinks its great so long as you don't do it in public, and that your mom is grossed out by the notion, and that your best friend thinks its only for women in National Geographic, listen to their underlying messages and concerns, and try, this is the hard part, try not to get discouraged or angry.
Instead, take you newfound wealth of information and figure out who already supports you in your choice, maybe a friend or aunt, and then find out what resources are availae to you, like the lactation counselor at the hospital, your doula or midwife, the local WIC program, and if you're lucky to strike breastfeeding gold, your local La Leche League. But don't stop there. Take your concerns about the less than supportives in your life to these other resources and see if they have information you could use to educate your lpved ones. Join a support group. Go to the Kellymom website, find online support if that's your thing, but make sure your tatas are well supported so that when you go pick out that supportive nursing bra, your biggest concern is fit and style, not how your family and friends will make you feel wearing it. Goodluck.
Emotional support.
Find out how your family feels about breastfeeding. Did your mom breastfeed you? Does your DH support the idea? Talk to your family and friendas about their feelings on breastfeeding, find out what their experiences and expectations are.
Now, when you find out that your DH thinks its great so long as you don't do it in public, and that your mom is grossed out by the notion, and that your best friend thinks its only for women in National Geographic, listen to their underlying messages and concerns, and try, this is the hard part, try not to get discouraged or angry.
Instead, take you newfound wealth of information and figure out who already supports you in your choice, maybe a friend or aunt, and then find out what resources are availae to you, like the lactation counselor at the hospital, your doula or midwife, the local WIC program, and if you're lucky to strike breastfeeding gold, your local La Leche League. But don't stop there. Take your concerns about the less than supportives in your life to these other resources and see if they have information you could use to educate your lpved ones. Join a support group. Go to the Kellymom website, find online support if that's your thing, but make sure your tatas are well supported so that when you go pick out that supportive nursing bra, your biggest concern is fit and style, not how your family and friends will make you feel wearing it. Goodluck.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Love
Love is not caving when you're at your absolute worst. Love is breastfeeding your baby even though your boobs are engorged and nipples sore, and you know its gonna be three kinds of painful hell to get a proper latch.
Love is having a splitting, squeezing, every light is a knife through my eye/ I can barely brreathe for the pain migraine and not caving in and saying "honey, can you give him a bottle of that formula the hospital sent home because I'm dying over here."
Love is not taking fancy meds that might take the pain away because you're not sure about their safety and your little one matters more than your own ability to cope with the pain.
Love is going on 2 1/2 weeks of sleep deprivation and saying "we are going to stick with this thing because its best for you."
That's love.
Unconditional.
Even when he pees on you.
Love is having a splitting, squeezing, every light is a knife through my eye/ I can barely brreathe for the pain migraine and not caving in and saying "honey, can you give him a bottle of that formula the hospital sent home because I'm dying over here."
Love is not taking fancy meds that might take the pain away because you're not sure about their safety and your little one matters more than your own ability to cope with the pain.
Love is going on 2 1/2 weeks of sleep deprivation and saying "we are going to stick with this thing because its best for you."
That's love.
Unconditional.
Even when he pees on you.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Sustainable Parenting- Save the Trees Already
I'm sure that you're thinking that this is going to be a tirade against Kimberly Clark's clearcutting of old growth forests in order to bring you things like Kleenex and sposies, but I'll leave that to Greenpeace. (But you could always see if your school district would reword the supplies list to read "facial tissue" instead of being brand specific, that is, unless Kleenex is sponsoring your child's education like a megacorp might sponsor a NASCAR team.)
No, this is something else entirely, but first let me say I've been known to fall down on this one.
Books. We all love em, own em, read em, but is that responsible. Can you see your bookcase from where you're sitting? Your kids' books? How many were one hit wonders? Sure, you read it. Heck, you enjoyed it. But do you have to own it? Do you ever feel bad, knowing its just going to clutter your home, and that you actually spent money on it? I call that biblioguilt.
I admit, I own the entire Harry Potter series, because sometimes I like a good fantasy with none of the sexual overkill that so often creeps into general fiction. I even admit that I preordered "Deathly Hallows," which meant more waste. I'm not perfect. No one is.
That said, if you open your wallet, there's a good chance you'll find a library card in there somewhere. It might be dusty from neglect, or stuck to the ice cream shop's frequent binger card. It might be well worn and so accustomed to use that it practically scans itself. But try this trick the next time you're out and want a book, or your kids want one. Write down the author's name and the title. Then go to your library. If they don't have it, they can request it.
Sure it takes patience and discipline to get the most out of the library, but think of all the trees that don't have to die because you're book sharing. And now think of how awesome it is that your kids have access to all the reading material they could want, with minimal environmental impact and maximum potential for building lifelong good habits.
Seriously- your kids will learn to be more eco-smart, to be patient in waiting for their bok of the moment to come in if it wasn't on the shelf, and to be responsible for things. Its an all around win.
So go to the library and rediscover the joy of reading a book just once, without guilt.
No, this is something else entirely, but first let me say I've been known to fall down on this one.
Books. We all love em, own em, read em, but is that responsible. Can you see your bookcase from where you're sitting? Your kids' books? How many were one hit wonders? Sure, you read it. Heck, you enjoyed it. But do you have to own it? Do you ever feel bad, knowing its just going to clutter your home, and that you actually spent money on it? I call that biblioguilt.
I admit, I own the entire Harry Potter series, because sometimes I like a good fantasy with none of the sexual overkill that so often creeps into general fiction. I even admit that I preordered "Deathly Hallows," which meant more waste. I'm not perfect. No one is.
That said, if you open your wallet, there's a good chance you'll find a library card in there somewhere. It might be dusty from neglect, or stuck to the ice cream shop's frequent binger card. It might be well worn and so accustomed to use that it practically scans itself. But try this trick the next time you're out and want a book, or your kids want one. Write down the author's name and the title. Then go to your library. If they don't have it, they can request it.
Sure it takes patience and discipline to get the most out of the library, but think of all the trees that don't have to die because you're book sharing. And now think of how awesome it is that your kids have access to all the reading material they could want, with minimal environmental impact and maximum potential for building lifelong good habits.
Seriously- your kids will learn to be more eco-smart, to be patient in waiting for their bok of the moment to come in if it wasn't on the shelf, and to be responsible for things. Its an all around win.
So go to the library and rediscover the joy of reading a book just once, without guilt.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Gro Baby Gro
So I have made no secret about the fact that I really want to try Gro Baby on my lil E. First off, they're cuter than babasheep and everything I've read about them has been simply fantastic. So when I read about the blogger giveaway, I was like, um, yes please?
We've been working really hard to make E a sustainable baby, and Gro Baby diapers are one way to get a little closer to sustainability. Right this second he's rockin' a pocket dipe by sunbaby, but the leg holes are too big, which means getting peed on some nights. Ew. I want to get to know the sizing on Gro Baby before extending my stash. A good fit is so important, but more important is keeping sposies out of landfills.
That, and I love that Gro Baby has combined all the goodies of a shell dipe with the awesomeness of one-size in a convenient system that makes a lot of sense. Let's be honest, when handling your pockets, don't you sometimes hate that its just a little wet and has to go in the wash pile/bucket, and that you can't reshellify the outer? I know I do. So here's to hopin I get to try one.
Now go to http://www.thenaturalbabyco.com/grobaby%E2%84%A2-ic-11_16.html
And see why I'm so ridiculously excited about them.
We've been working really hard to make E a sustainable baby, and Gro Baby diapers are one way to get a little closer to sustainability. Right this second he's rockin' a pocket dipe by sunbaby, but the leg holes are too big, which means getting peed on some nights. Ew. I want to get to know the sizing on Gro Baby before extending my stash. A good fit is so important, but more important is keeping sposies out of landfills.
That, and I love that Gro Baby has combined all the goodies of a shell dipe with the awesomeness of one-size in a convenient system that makes a lot of sense. Let's be honest, when handling your pockets, don't you sometimes hate that its just a little wet and has to go in the wash pile/bucket, and that you can't reshellify the outer? I know I do. So here's to hopin I get to try one.
Now go to http://www.thenaturalbabyco.com/grobaby%E2%84%A2-ic-11_16.html
And see why I'm so ridiculously excited about them.
spamilicious
So after fighting with my phone for a while in the hopes of getting twitter to function properly (read: mobile format as opposed to standard) I checked my email only to find out that I've been flagged as spam.
Now, I don't eat Spam or any other pig product,nor do I eat shellfish or bottom feeders, so I'm going to suppose that my blog is actually kosher after all, but that said, let's ponder how spamtastic this all is.
I hear spam is often served with pineapple and tastes a little sweet. Well, if you ask my husband, I think you'll find I'm far from that. Salty? Maybe.
I try to avoid unnecessary packaging and prefer to buy local foods (when I can afford to) so ixnay on the spam there. Butcher-paper for the win. Are spam tins even recyclable? I also try to avoid unnecessary preservatives, most of which are really kinda toxic, and since spam is the twinkie of meats, I'll have to give that a great big inapplicabnle too.
So someone hlp me out here. How spammy am I?
While you consider that, I think I'll go pig out while the baby sleeps. Although, he is kinda spam pink... Yet another reason to pass on it.
Now, I don't eat Spam or any other pig product,nor do I eat shellfish or bottom feeders, so I'm going to suppose that my blog is actually kosher after all, but that said, let's ponder how spamtastic this all is.
I hear spam is often served with pineapple and tastes a little sweet. Well, if you ask my husband, I think you'll find I'm far from that. Salty? Maybe.
I try to avoid unnecessary packaging and prefer to buy local foods (when I can afford to) so ixnay on the spam there. Butcher-paper for the win. Are spam tins even recyclable? I also try to avoid unnecessary preservatives, most of which are really kinda toxic, and since spam is the twinkie of meats, I'll have to give that a great big inapplicabnle too.
So someone hlp me out here. How spammy am I?
While you consider that, I think I'll go pig out while the baby sleeps. Although, he is kinda spam pink... Yet another reason to pass on it.
Apple Cheeks!
If you haven't been to the Applecheeks website, go. I've spent a lot of time on it today because I keep running into giveaways aimed at getting the word out about a great diapering option for those of us who found the concept of disposables to be, well- disposable.
Their awesomeness can be seen at http://www.applecheeks.ca/ I admit it, I'm partial to the Mrs. Robinson and St. Lucia blues, and these all have me cuted out. Even my husband felt inclined to comment that he just loves how colorful all these "newfangled" diapers are. I also love that these don't have to be unstuffed, because let's face it, that's the least pleasant part of pocket diapers!
There are some really great giveaways which I highly reccomend jumping on, asap.
http://www.ourlifeupstate.com/2009/05/applecheeks-review-and-giveaway.html?showComment=1243829551871#c3902566867801721277
http://www.themombuzz.com
http://ourlincolnlog.blogspot.com/2009/05/giveaway-applecheeks-diapers.html
http://www.themombuzz.com/2009/05/win-apple-cheeks-diaper-system-more.html#comment-form
http://monkeys-on-the-bed.blogspot.com/2009/05/review-and-giveaway-apple-cheeks-cloth.html
I admit it, all the hype has me really wanting to try these, and I suspect you will too. So go, try to win some, and spread the word, even if you are like me and can't do a lot of the entry methods because you're surfing from your phone.
Goodluck.
Their awesomeness can be seen at http://www.applecheeks.ca/ I admit it, I'm partial to the Mrs. Robinson and St. Lucia blues, and these all have me cuted out. Even my husband felt inclined to comment that he just loves how colorful all these "newfangled" diapers are. I also love that these don't have to be unstuffed, because let's face it, that's the least pleasant part of pocket diapers!
There are some really great giveaways which I highly reccomend jumping on, asap.
http://www.ourlifeupstate.com/2009/05/applecheeks-review-and-giveaway.html?showComment=1243829551871#c3902566867801721277
http://www.themombuzz.com
http://ourlincolnlog.blogspot.com/2009/05/giveaway-applecheeks-diapers.html
http://www.themombuzz.com/2009/05/win-apple-cheeks-diaper-system-more.html#comment-form
http://monkeys-on-the-bed.blogspot.com/2009/05/review-and-giveaway-apple-cheeks-cloth.html
I admit it, all the hype has me really wanting to try these, and I suspect you will too. So go, try to win some, and spread the word, even if you are like me and can't do a lot of the entry methods because you're surfing from your phone.
Goodluck.
Breastfeeding and the technological era
E was milkdrunk and half dozing when it occurred to me that I still needed to hop on the birth announcements bandwagon and get them done. So, being the resourceful mom I am, I gently plopped him in his swing, turned it on, and headed to my husband's computer to fill in the vital details that I didn't know when I designed them. You know, details like name.
I knew I was on a limited schedule, because he likes to doze after a good long drink, only to wake 15 min later and demand the "good stuff."
So I rush to fill in names and dates, weight (8lbs) and length (21", and why isn't it height?). Then comes the hard part, choosing which picture to include as part of the announcement. And I'd thought font selection was tough. Since DH and I both are carbon-bonded to our cellphones, and he's a huge fan of his digital camera, there were a lot to choose from. That said, none of them were quite right. Most of them had a boob somewhere in them, and Aunt Opal doesn't want to see the tatas. The task has suddenly become more daunting than milk-drunk dozing will allow for, I just know it.
So of course, while I'm perusing hundreds of virtual-Es, cooing over their virtual cuteness, real-E wakes up.
Well, if you have a newborn, you know darn well that before you go pick fussybum up, you'd better have your potty break out of the way. So I rush off to the restroom. While I'm in there, my spouse, bless his heart, decides to try to calm my little snapdragon down. I hear, "Honey, hurry up, he's lookin' for my USB port!"
Only one thing to say, "Busy uploading to the pottyserver, and don't worry, he'll figure out soon enough that you've just got serial ports." :-)
I knew I was on a limited schedule, because he likes to doze after a good long drink, only to wake 15 min later and demand the "good stuff."
So I rush to fill in names and dates, weight (8lbs) and length (21", and why isn't it height?). Then comes the hard part, choosing which picture to include as part of the announcement. And I'd thought font selection was tough. Since DH and I both are carbon-bonded to our cellphones, and he's a huge fan of his digital camera, there were a lot to choose from. That said, none of them were quite right. Most of them had a boob somewhere in them, and Aunt Opal doesn't want to see the tatas. The task has suddenly become more daunting than milk-drunk dozing will allow for, I just know it.
So of course, while I'm perusing hundreds of virtual-Es, cooing over their virtual cuteness, real-E wakes up.
Well, if you have a newborn, you know darn well that before you go pick fussybum up, you'd better have your potty break out of the way. So I rush off to the restroom. While I'm in there, my spouse, bless his heart, decides to try to calm my little snapdragon down. I hear, "Honey, hurry up, he's lookin' for my USB port!"
Only one thing to say, "Busy uploading to the pottyserver, and don't worry, he'll figure out soon enough that you've just got serial ports." :-)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
2 week alarm
We're officially two weeks into this crazy thing I like to call babyhood. You'd think I'd be better at it, considering I've done it before, but in the end, that just complicates things. I find myself comparing this and that all the time. DD wore prefolds, so should I feel guilty that I don't want to devote the time to oragami that I'd have to to prefold diaper DS? By this point I'd caved on breastfeeding DD. I admit it, the latch was bad in the beginning and I couldn't tolerate the pain. But does that mean I should feel superior to former me because I'm still an all night buffet?
The emotions are pretty crazy too. I'm sure sleep deprivation had a lot to do with the crying jag last night, though.
But nonetheless, here's my goal. I want to raise a happy, healthy, and sustainable baby boy. You with me on this? Sustainable. This means a lot of things. It means getting off my bumper and finishing sewing up some cloth baby wipes and making my own wipes solution. (Whatever happened to just a damp washcloth like my grandparents used?) It means researching a little more into the teatree oil psuedoestrogen issue. Does repeated exposure really lead to gynecomasta in prepubescent boys? It means not caving to the will of the bottle-nazis and continuing to breastfeed. It means being a bit of a lactivist when I need to. Sustainability means not buying the latest gizmos I don't need for baby, and only investing in the ones that really are going to reduce waste and replace other products with potentially harmful chemicals.
Its a lot of things. So yeah, its going to be a lot of mental work and a little physical work, but I think we can do this. Ya with me?
The emotions are pretty crazy too. I'm sure sleep deprivation had a lot to do with the crying jag last night, though.
But nonetheless, here's my goal. I want to raise a happy, healthy, and sustainable baby boy. You with me on this? Sustainable. This means a lot of things. It means getting off my bumper and finishing sewing up some cloth baby wipes and making my own wipes solution. (Whatever happened to just a damp washcloth like my grandparents used?) It means researching a little more into the teatree oil psuedoestrogen issue. Does repeated exposure really lead to gynecomasta in prepubescent boys? It means not caving to the will of the bottle-nazis and continuing to breastfeed. It means being a bit of a lactivist when I need to. Sustainability means not buying the latest gizmos I don't need for baby, and only investing in the ones that really are going to reduce waste and replace other products with potentially harmful chemicals.
Its a lot of things. So yeah, its going to be a lot of mental work and a little physical work, but I think we can do this. Ya with me?
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