The End Is Here…

I think this is it.  Three days before 16 months, we are done.  I think Carson is weaned.  We have gone from 4 feedings to none in the past month.  It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it was going to be, there were minimal tears (from him, I mean!).  I thought it would be harder for me than it has been–but it is still sad.

I love, love, LOVE nursing my son.  It has been one of the most amazing things I have been able to give to him.  He has been sick ONCE in 16 months.  I think it is because of breastfeeding.  The fact that we are done is just another red flag that he is not a baby anymore.  I see evidence of this everyday, but when we had our quiet moments nursing it was easy to forget that he is a big boy now.  Shockingly, in combo with the raging pregnancy hormones, I haven’t cried over this.  I did well up, but no tears were shed.

On a bright note, I get to have my boobs to myself for about 5-6 months before I have to do it all again.  I can only hope Gummy Bear Baby is studying up on breastfeeding in utero like Carson did.  He came out a pro, we had no problems.  I hope I can be so lucky again.

Do My Boobs Taste Funny To You??

For the five of you that I didn’t manage to alienate when I talked about my uterus, I’m going to talk about my boobs today.  That should wipe the rest of you out.

Carson and I are working on weaning.  It’s funny–it’s been 15 months and at no point did I consider it hard, or a chore, or work.  I LOVE nursing my son.  So, this weaning thing is very bittersweet for me.  I would like my boobs back for a little bit before I have a newbie sucking on me alllllllllllll day long.  Other than that, though…the thought of being done is making me sad.  It means no more quiet, one-on-one bonding time.  It means my Little Man is just that–no more baby.  It means Gummy Bear Baby is already pushing Carson out, changing his routine.

Well…anyhow…this weaning thing is supposed to go the way I say.  I am trying to take out one feeding at a time, let Carson get used to that before we work on the next feeding.  It is supposed to gradual and non-traumatic.  We have recently been working on going from four feedings a day to three.  Except something has happened in the past few days, something to my boobs–or more specifically–my milk.  Carson seems to get frustrated lately when he is on the boob.  He comes off sooner than usual, whines about it, he may even grab/squeeze my boob in frustration.  From Friday to Sunday, he wouldn’t nurse on my right side.  I can only assume my supply is decreasing or the taste of my milk is changing because of Gummy Bear Baby.  This is NOT how it is supposed to go.  This is supposed to be a smooth transition for Carson.  Gummy Bear Baby is NOT supposed to be pushing Carson out already.

I’m sad for Carson.  I’m nervous that this is just the first thing in an infinite list of things that Gummy Bear will be “ruining” for Carson.  I’m sad for me, that this part of my relationship with my son is coming to an end.  I’m pretty sure it’s only minutes from now that he will be slamming a door in my face and telling me he hates me.

This is all happening so fast!

Bloggy Catchup

Phew, I have not blogged in a looooong time.  Forgive me, my few hoardes of faithful readers.  As I mentioned in my last little blurb, life is crazy busy with an almost-one-year-old.  Speaking of an almost-one-year-old, does any care to tell me where the last year has gone so quickly?  I have no idea, and it boggles my mind.  Here is some of what’s been going on lately:

• The Boy is on the brink of walking.  Thisclose.  I mean it.  He will do one or two steps on his own, but really only to me.  He will definitely be walking by his first birthday.  And then you may never hear from me again.
• I hate viruses.  It’s obviously a no-brainer that you would hate something that renders your happy and energetic child totally and utterly motionless, crying, and moaning in your arms.  It was hard to see him like that, my own 20 pound (I hope!  God, this kid is a peanut) little radiator.  But at least you know there is an end in sight.  The havoc that it has wreaked on the sleep cycles of 2 of the 3 people in this house is truly mind boggling.  The Boy, clearly no Dummie, was much happier sleeping on me, with me, over me, under me and through me than he is sleeping alone.  The Dreaded Virus has left questionable nap lengths and every-two-hour- wakeups-at-night in its wake.  While someone who shall remain nameless sleeps soundly, I have been getting up more times than my friends with newborns.  It is brutal.  (Commence your whispering…YES, my 11 month old doesn’t sleep through the night…and YES I still nurse him at night…and YES I know I should “just let him cry”…and YES I never thought I would be the mom with the 11 month old that doesn’t sleep…and YES I am tired…and YES go ahead and be all judgy about me…).  Let me just say that when you are the ONLY one who does the nighttime parenting, trying to get your child to sleep through the night is a very lonely process.  You question your every decision.  When the other half throws up his hands because “he doesn’t want me”, you may think your very head is going to explode off of your shoulders.  It is hard, truly, truly hard.  But, on a bright note…last night I let The Boy cry (my little heart cannot bear more than about 10-15 minutes of it…), and twice he was back to sleep within 5 minutes!  YESSSSSSSSSSS!!  So, last night I only got up twice.  I will not tell you that the second time I brought him to bed with me at4:30 a.m., lest you get all judgy again.
• This weeks weather is killing me…rain, rain, rain…and oh yeah, RAIN.  How’s a Mama to run in weather like this?  I MUST purchase The BOB weather shield.  Not sure how much The Boy is going enjoy it…but  I haven’t run since Sunday (it’s only Tuesday, I KNOW) and I am crawling out of my skin.  Also, is it bad that that the only thing I think I am going to put on my Christmas list is running gear?  I need winter stuff.  If anyone loves my blog so much, that you would like to buy me a gift to thank me for helping you waste your time/cope with the travails of motherhood/run, please send me a Dick’s gift card.  Or Road Runner Sports.  Or a Garmin Watch.  Yeah.  Any of those would be great.
• So, we will be easily making it to the year mark with breastfeeding.  I am not sure when we will start working on the weaning process.  I know what The Boy would say if you asked him: “Ummm, like, NEVER?”  This kid LOVES the boob.  Loves, loves, LOVES.  I don’t know how much I can stress this in order for you to fully understand the magnitude of his adoration.  I will tell you this–the other night I fell asleep in the chair nursing him and woke up FORTY MINUTES LATER, when he finally unlatched.  Now, I am no expert but I am pretty sure Lefty doesn’t have forty minutes of milk in her…which means he was just sleeping on the boob because he loves it so much.  I know that I said he doesn’t need birthday presents, but if someone wants to make him a shirt that says “I heart boobs”, he will wear it with pride.  Seriously, I have no idea how I will ever get this child to break up with his first true love.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now folks.  Like I said, there are big things coming up.  Also, I am still going to try to get an 11 month Smilebox together, so I will try to post that, just pretend it is 2 weeks ago when you watch it!

Dear Dairy: A Warning Letter

Dear Dairy,

Please don’t make me do it.  Do not make me break up with you.  Please do not be the reason for my son’s eczema, because I be forced to end our almost 32 year relationship.  I thought things were going so good between us.  But frankly–it’s not me, it’s you.  You, apparently, could be contributing to my Little Man’s super dry and scaly neck, his red knees, his red and bumpy elbows. 

You have one week to shape up.  One week for me to empty out my fridge of all of your delicious goodness.  One more week of the best breakfast ever (cottage cheese, banana nut cheerios, raw almonds, and cinnamon).  One more week of your cheesy goodness.  If Little Man is still eczema-riddled, I will be forced to quit you.  Don’t worry, I will not cheat on you with any of those other “milks”.  You know–rice, almond, soy.  But there will be no break-up sex.  I am telling you right now, you will not be welcomed back into my open bowl, glass, mug, salad, burger for at least another 6 months. 

Heed my warning, Dairy.  This is no idle threat.  I do not want to do it, but I will.  Because Little Man is way more important to me than all your wonderful-ness.  I do not know what I will eat for breakfast.  I do not know what I will do all summer long without you topping my burgers.  But I have been through break-ups before.  And I will be OK. 

I will always love you,

Michelle

Week One Of The Rest Of My Life…

I know, I know…you all have been waiting for the update.  Well, here you have it: I’m tired.  Really, really tired.  In all the anticipation of this week, I have only been thinking about Little Man–leaving him, how he would do, how he would eat (more on that later), etc, etc…  I forgot that there was a whole nother person in this equation–ME!  I didn’t really remember to think about me, and so the fatigue has caught me a little off guard.

I will tell you that you were right: the anticipation of the day was worse than the first day itself.  Not to take away from it, it sucked, I was sad…but we made it.  And then we did it again the next four days.  But now I feel like I have 3 jobs.  I am still a full-time mom.  I am a part-time (but really?  30 hours is still a lot) physical therapist.  And I am full-time breast-feeder.  Wait, doesn’t breastfeeding fall under the mom umbrella?  Well, I would say it did when the only job I had was being a mom.  Now that I am working and HAVE to pump, I would argue that breastfeeding (or maintaining breastfeeding) is another full-time  job.  When I have to wake up earlier to pump and schedule time in my work day to pump, it turns into a job.  And having 3 jobs is HARD WORK!  There is significantly less “down time” for the grown-ups in this house now because when Carson is napping, there is definitely something that needs to be done, be it showering for your second job, or getting your pumping gear together for your third job, so you can bring it to your second job….you can see where this is headed.   Where I was dreading weekends before, because it meant another week gone, now I cannot wait for them, because I have two full days with Carson.  Two full days of breastfeeding, two full days of normal length naps (Carson’s naps seem to be a little truncated at daycare)….ahhh….two full days!!!

Carson hit it out of the park this week though!  Eighteen weeks of refusing the bottle…resulted in him taking 3 ounces FROM THE BOTTLE on day one.  Yes, I said “bottle”, not “sippy cup”.  I KNOW, WTF RIGHT??  Today (Friday) he took 3 1/2 ounces in one feeding and 3 ounces in another.  FROM THE BOTTLE.  Guess I should have crossed that one off my list of things to worry about a long time ago.  Huh. 

I love daycare! Look how happy I am!

We are really looking forward to the nice weather this weekend.  Probably going to try the park with Little Man, maybe try a swing or two.  I didn’t think it was possible to appreciate the time I have with him anymore than I already did…but I was wrong.  I am soaking up every second I have because each one is precious.

Battle of the Bottle (Part Deux)

Ok, I am ten days away from returning to work and I will say it–the Bottle has won.  We have quit.  The hubbs has quit.  I have quit.  Carson has quit.  The Bottle won.  The MIL was pretty much ready to abduct my son this weekend to put him into Bottle Bootcamp because we all quit.  I don’t think she would have cared that much, except she is watching him 2 days a week. 

But what’s this (cue shining beacon of light with angel music playing)?  Something wonderful has swooped down and saved the day.  What could that be, you ask yourself?  It is my savior, and his name is Tommee Tippee.  No, it is not a bottle.  My little man did not, apparently, want to be treated like a baby.  He did not want the bottle.  He wanted to drink like a MAN–out of a cup.  All this time I have been insulting him with the bottle.  Turns out all those cries could be translated to “Give me a cup, woman!!”.  Huh.  Who knew?  Again, I am not the mommy blogger who gets stuff for free, so I went to Babies R’ Us and BOUGHT (do you hear me Tommee Tippee??) me a sippy cup.  Here is my letter to my new love, Tommee Tippee.

Dear Tommee Tippee–
I love you.  I love you so much. 
Love,
Michelle.

No, just kidding.  Here is my real letter:

Dear Tommee Tippee,
I love you.  I love you so much.  My 4-month old will be going to daycare in 10 days.  He has, in his short life, developed quite love for the breast.  Conversely, he hates the bottle.  We have tried every bottle in the Northern hemisphere.  By the time we got to you, dear Tommee, we had quit the bottle.  We thought we would try the sippy cup.  You have the only sippy cup for 4 month olds and we bought it with little hope.  Well, dear, sweet Tommee Tippee, my son has drunk 4 ounces of milk out of that sacred chalice  since yesterday.  I would also like to clarify the work “drunk”.  By drunk, I actually mean swallow.  I do not mean collect in his mouth maybe to be swallowed or maybe to slowly leak out of his mouth, down into his neck folds, never to be seen again.  He drank breast milk from something other than my breast!!  (I will not even get into the bittersweet-ness of that statement!) You have lifted one piece of significant stress off the already anxiety-laden doomsday of returning to work.  I no longer have to worry that my son may starve to death while I am off making enough money to keep this family afloat.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!
Hugs and tongue kisses,
Michelle

**down at the bottom here is where people write things like “I did not receive compensation for this blog.  I did receive free product to assist in this review.  This is my own opinion, blah-de-blah-de-blah.”  Again, I would like to state I BOUGHT THIS FOR MYSELF AND I AM STILL PROMOTING THIS PRODUCT.  JUST LIKE I DO WITH EVERYTHING I PROMOTE.  AND ANYTIME ANYONE WANTS TO START GIVING ME FREE STUFF, FEEL FREE.**

Carson’s Mailbag

Today’s blog has a guest–Carson!!  We are going to try out a new weekly/biweekly blog where Carson will be answering reader questions.  Today, we will start with a question of mine, but I hope you all like it and participate!

Dear Carson,
Why won’t you take the bottle?
Love,
Your Mommy

Dear Mommy,
I love, love, LOVE breast feeding.  Can’t you tell?  I mean, look at my chins, I can’t get enough of it.  None of those bottles you have given me feel anything like the real thing, not even that booby looking one you have been trying lately. 
Plus, I love, love, LOVE YOU!!  I really love to stare up at you when I am eating because you are the prettiest mommy I have ever seen.  You smell so delicious and none of those bottles you have been trying smell anything like you.  I know you want me to take the bottle, but I guess I would rather spend my eating time only with you.  Also, I am secretly hoping that if I don’t take the bottle, you will not be able to go back to work and we can be together forever–wouldn’t that be awesome??
My little fingers are getting tired from all this typing.  I can’t wait to answer more questions, there is so much I want to talk about!
I love you so, so much.  You are the best Mommy ever!
Love,
Carson

p.s.  Don’t I have a really good vocabulary for a 3-month old?

Wow!  Carson is pretty advanced.  Please post your questions, and maybe Carson will answer yours next!! 

My Boobs Need Your Help

If nothing else, the title should get my readership up…

I want need to work out.  It has been three months.  (Hey, wait…it’s actually been a year since I have REALLY worked out to my true capabilities.  Crap.  This is gonna be WAY worse than I thought…)  The scale claims I am back to my pre-pregnancy weight.  Turns out that doesn’ t mean much because I am a much softer, jigglier version of my old self.  I NEED to get off my squishy ass and MOVE.  Problem is, while I want to move my body as a whole, I would prefer if my boobs stayed in one place.  I tried on two Under Armor sports bras at Dick’s yesterday (not at the same time!!  although…).  I almost injured myself running in place in the dressing room.  WTF?!?! 

For those of you who haven’t seen me, or don’t know about nursing…yeah.  My boobs are big.  And jiggly.  I sometimes have to hold them in place to go up and down the stairs.  Serious.  Then there is the part where I have NO idea what size I am.  And I guess that that depends on what time of the day you catch me.  Also, what if one is bigger than the other…then what?

I NEED A SPORTS BRA THAT KEEPS MY BOOBS FROM PUNCHING ME IN THE FACE WHEN I RUN JOG WALK FAST (who knows what I am currently capable of…not much, I don’t think).  PLEASE, SOMEONE OUT THERE, HELP ME! 

(this is not a joke, I really need some recommendations…with links would be helpful!)

Got (Breast)Milk?

So, Carson still refuses the bottle.  It is actually becoming quite comical, despite the fact that we are now down to 4 weeks before I return to work.  He wants nothing to do with a bink either.  While neither will typically throw him into a fit anymore, he just plays with them.  Any milk he has drunk out of a bottle tends to just drip in to his mouth and he has to swallow it or choke. 

That being said, I do not really know why I have been pumping every day since November.  Ok, I lie.  I took a break for a few weeks in December when I wondered why the hell I was bothering since bottle boy wasn’t taking it anyways.  When I first started, I absolutely hated pumping.  Hated it, hated it, HATED IT.  I felt like a cow.  I looked like a cow.  It was uncomfortable.  It was awkward.  Ugh, it sucked.  I didn’t know how I would keep this up.  I think a part of me was excited in the beginning that Carson WASN’T taking a bottle, then I didn’t have to pump.  That little break I told you about?  LOVED it.

Then something changed.  No, it wasn’t him taking a bottle (that would be too easy).  As you may or may not know, I am a VERY competitive person.  I will try to make a competition out of most things.  I started to make a competition WITH MYSELF out of pumping.  How much can I pump tonight?  Can I beat my previous record?  I always pump 10 minutes or so, and I like to see what I can get.

I pump every night after Carson goes to bed.  This is not what you are supposed to do.  Well, you can, but I guess you should be pumping in the morning when you milk-making hormone is at its highest level.  Try telling that to your 4 week old who only sleeps in your arms.  It was too much of a hassle for me in the beginning, so I just pumped at night.  Now, at 14 weeks (14 weeks??  When the EFF did that happen??) I just never got around to adding that morning pump.    I am in an online breastfeeding forum (I really like it, btw…click here if you want to join, too!).  The lactation consultant said “WOW” when she heard I pumped 4-5 ounces every night.  Apparently, that is impressive, considering the nighttime thing.  That was all I needed to hear to fuel the fire!  My new PR (personal record)? SIX AND A HALF OUNCES!!!  No, I am not pumping till my boobs fall off.  Ten minutes.  That’s it.  I am not telling you this to impress you, I am telling you this because me setting a new PR makes me want to keep pumping.  So what that my freezer is filling up and no one is drinking my milk?  I have records to set!! 

Who needs food in the freezer?

Please take note of the nice breast milk storage container.  That is from the hospital, make sure you take it with you when you go.  I just did some reorg-ing.  I cannot wait to go to Target to buy a new container for my bounty and see how long it takes me to fill up.  If it were up to me?  I’d fill up the entire freezer, even if Carson NEVER takes a bottle!