Breastfeeding Bonding

Over thanksgiving I was flipping through some old photo albums and found this picture of me, "breastfeeding" a baby doll while my mom nursed Brad (2 days old here). (Not pictured here is Ashley, who was about 17 months at the time... how did my mom do it??)

I had to laugh when I saw this. Apparently I was eager to bond with my "baby" even as a toddler. I had no idea then how much nursing would solidify my bond with my own child. But right now, I think that breastfeeding Nathan is one of my favorite parts of mommying. I love knowing that I'm providing him with all the nutition he needs. I love the snuggle time we get when we cuddle up together to nurse (other times, he's much more interested in the world around him than in cuddling with Mommy).

I really didn't think I would be one of Those Moms, and definitely don't call me a lactivist (those people are mostly annoying, let's not make it more of an agenda than it needs to be, folks!)... but somehow I have become very, very protective of my right to nurse my son. The few times when people have stopped me in public to share their opinions with me (mostly encouraging but some quite critical, like that would change my mind - I mean really), I find myself getting more and more frustrated that they dare assume that their desire to not see my baby eat is more important than his right to eat. I can't decide if they're prudes, or if they're so sex-obsessed that they can't see breasts as first and foremost being for food.  It's the most natural way of feeding a baby that exists. That's why God gave me boobs, right? If you don't like it, don't watch.

Ok, not trying to rant. Just wanted to share one of the simple pleasures of mommyhood so far.  Yay breastfeeding.

Thanksgiving

What I'm thankful for:

1.) mommyhood - and yes that includes Bowden and Simon
2.) my health and able-bodiedness (and that of my family)
3.) getting my back scratched
4.) my church family and other supportive friends
5.) my family-family

just to name a few...

a very Lovely evening

Mark and I came into Huntersville today to spend the holiday weekend at Dad's house. My sister's roommate from Paris (who now lives in Asheville), Lovely, is in town for the evening before his early-morning flight tomorrow to see his family. The four of us hadn't been together since our wedding in 2003, and before that the last time we were together was one of the many nights we spent laughing in their apartment in Paris in the fall of 2002. You know. Before their landlady went crazy and they had to flee in the middle of the night. Those memories are sort of hazy now (ahem) but I do remember the laughs. And the homemade potato chips (some of Lovely's finest culinary work, I might add). And the giant banner in the den that very much resembled a vagina. (I think in France, that's considered art.) And the broken bed from Ikea. And the spaghetti and milk (in the same dish). But it's a fog now how that all fits together.

Anyway the four of us had dinner together tonight and we laughed harder than I have laughed in a long, long time. One of my favorite exchanges:

Lovely: it's so gross how the two of you wipe snot all over your arms and sleeves instead of using a kleenex. I've had to spend the whole dinner sitting across from you, watching you do that.
Me: get over it. you're lucky Nathan's not here or you would have spent the whole dinner watching my boob.
Lovely: just the one boob?
Me: well, he only feeds on one at a time.
Lovely: oh. [gets more chips and salsa.]
Lovely: so who's Nathan?

(He apparently thought I said "he only stares at one boob at a time" which doesn't really make the question any less weird!)

The One with the Bagpipes

One of my favorite episodes of Friends came on last night. I needed to laugh, and this 90 seconds significantly brightened my day.

Baby's First Choo-Choo

So we had a whirlwind weekend. Mark wanted to be in Clemson, as he does every weekend there's a home game,to see BC play the Tigers at 8pm on Saturday night. He also had to be back in Raleigh to accompany the children's choirs at church Sunday morning at 9. Games usually take at least 4 hours, and Clemson is 6 hours away from Raleigh (without traffic), for those of you who are doing the math.

So Nathan and I took the train to Kannapolis Saturday evening, so that (in theory) I could get a good night's sleep and still drive Mark the rest of the way to church Sunday morning. Mark ended up getting to my mom's house around 4:30, we hit the road again at 6, and got to church with time to spare. So on paper, the plan worked: Mark didn't have to drive all night (albeit most of it), and he got at least a couple hours of sleep before he had to play at church.

But it turns out that people who pay for business class tickets on trains generally don't want to travel with babies. Even my precious Nathan.

I got glared at as soon as I got on the train (and he was quiet and happy!), so I think I was tense the whole time, worried that he would fuss. It was almost time for his nap, so I just let him nurse a bit and then hoped he would zonk out, like he does in the car.

No such luck. Every time he was almost asleep, someone would walk by and yell something, or the person across the aisle would start hacking up a lung again, and he would snap out of it. So just gave up and let him be awake. And if he started to fuss, I just let him nurse. He did end up sleeping for about 45 minutes, but the rest of the time he was way too fascinated by the train. So it looks like he's going to be one of Those boys.

But the Amtrak people were surprisingly helpful, and very sweet to Nathan.

And somehow I didn't get any pictures of Nathan's first train ride. :(

A New Day....

Today was so much better than yesterday.

1.) I didn't have to work.
2.) I got to sleep late since Mark's on night shift and could do the first morning feeding when he got home. Do you know how rarely I get to sleep late?
3.) I got a massage.
4.) It was an hour long and only cost $39.
5.) Nathan learned to suck his thumb sometime in the last 24 hours and it's really precious.
6.) I get to go watch antm before I go to bed.
7.) Kelley emailed me some beautiful pictures of Kiran and Nathan when we were at Furman last weekend. (I'm sure if you go look her blog you'll eventually find a fabulous picture of Kiran - I won't steal the glory of her photographic genius by posting it here yet.)







8.) I got to have dinner at church and visit with Dot and Ann, two friends I never seem to have enough visiting time with. Plus, the meatloaf was soooo good (taking notes, Ryan?) ...
9.) I found a fun present for Mark's birthday next week.
10.) I made dinner plans with Sarah and Neil for Friday night. Hooray, grownup night at PF Chang's!

What.... A Day?

Today was one of those days. It really was. It reminds me of my Grandpa, who was in a play once and he had one line: "What a day!" But when it came time to deliver it, he said "what... a day?" Come to think of it, I can't remember if that actually happened to him or if it's some joke he used to tell. All the time. Anyway... what a day, indeed.

I'm sure today wasn't as bad as Ryan's June 20th, 2007, also known as the Worst Summer Day Ever (keyboard tray almost-injury, keys locked in the car, stuck in an elevator... all before 2pm). But it wasn't great.

First, I woke up this morning to discover [men stop reading here if you can't handle Girl Talk] that I get to spend the next few days in the company of a certain monthly visitor who hasn't exactly been "monthly" over the last year or so. Last time, I remember being relieved that the visit would not coincide with my swim in St Croix (yay for no shark attraction)... and somehow that seems like a lifetime ago. Oh wait... it was. Nathan's lifetime. So this week has already started a trend of cramps, pimples, and moodiness (yes, more than usual). I feel like I'm 16. At least I know I'm not knocked up again.

Then Nathan fell out of his stroller when I left him in my boss's office (she's out of town, don't worry) for a nap this morning. There is no more sickening sound than a loud slam followed by your baby crying. Except maybe a loud slam followed by silence [shudders]. He's fine. I think I'm more traumatized than he is. My coworkers said when you have a son, you have to get used to head bumps. But I officially felt like I deserved the Queen Crappy Mom award.

Then the printer crashed at work in the middle of ticketing a group. After I had sent all the ticketing information to the print queue. Sounds small, but it's incredibly frustrating when nothing works the way it's supposed to. The group was a pain enough to deal with once, but to have to do it once, then void everything (without the printed documents for auditing, of course), and then do it again - that's enough to just make you cry, when it happens on an already bad day.

Then I accidentally wired some of my company's money to India - about $1300 more than I was supposed to. Turns out when you overpay a wire, there's no way to cancel the transaction and start over. Let's hope the people are nice and send it back, or I am going to have a lot of explaining to do. No one knows yet except my accounting person, and we're both hoping it will get resolved before my manager is back in town, so it will already be fixed when we tell her about it. Say a prayer for Indian kindness, ok?

If anyone has one of those "5 things to be happy about" calendars, or just any personal ideas about something to be happy about this evening, I'd really go for it.

Thank you, Veterans!

Today is Veternans Day here in the US, and Remembrance Day elsewhere in the world. Today we fly our flags at half-mast in honor of the soldier that served our country, fighting against those who would see our safety and freedom compromised.

I think whether you agree with our current involvement in Iraq or not, whether you were a 70s protester against the war in Vietnam, or a proud draftee, whether you hate communism and fear its spread around the world, or love it and want to leave well enough alone when it comes to internal governing in foreign nations - we all should appreciate the soldiers themselves, and the sacrifices made by their families back home. Especially the ones who don't make it back to their families.

Did you ever stop and think that most people (in my generation, anyway) are here because our Grandpas DID survive the second world war? The ones who didn't never go to birth the baby boomer generation, or have grandchildren who would have sat beside us in elementary school.

My Grandpa S. was an Army pilot in Europe, and flew missions over Italy and northern Africa. My Grandpa B. was a Marine in the Pacific, and he fought at Iwo Jima. Many, many of their friends didn't come home. Today we honor the survivors, and we remember their friends, and the children and grandchildren they were never able to have. And we remember that the sacrifices made for us to be a world leader were all too real - let's be appreciative, not resentful. Let's be respectful, not dominant. And let's remember the reason for Armistice Day (now known as Veterans Day); the reason we stop for a moment, in the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, is to have a day "dedicated to the cause of world peace."


And on a lighter note, there are also other reasons we love our veterans. Like when we (lovingly) roll our eyes at the way they drive. Do you think it takes wartime experience to be able to park your car in four parking spaces at once? That has to be a record. (This is Grandpa S.'s car, parked at Lowe's a few weeks ago. Notice how he has WWII bomber paraphernalia all over his car, thus outing him as a fogie.)

And how we (lovingly) roll our eyes at their old-fashioned ideas. Last month when we were in Millers Creek, I noticed that Grandpa B. had a stationary bike in front of his tv. I swear that thing was right out of 1972. I'm sure he rides it in his slacks and button-up shirts, too. Oh, the things we wish we had on video.


I love my Grandpas! (And I hope they like being Great-Grandpas to Nathan!)

Blogger savvy? Not me.

I finally got my own gmail account, so that I can post without using Mark's account (and in theory, so that Mark can post without being "Erin G" - but we'll see how often that actually happens). But now, all my previous posts say they're authored by Mark. Oh well. Someday, I'm telling you - I will be smarter than my computer.

Best. Birthday Card. Ever.

I can't remember if I posted about this before, but we found out a few weeks ago that Simon had giardia. It's some parasite that's transmittable to humans (albeit with some difficulty). The vall from our vet tech went something like this:

VT: Hi can I speak with... um... Mrs., um goh-ertz? (that's how most conversations start, for the record.)
VT: this is xxxxx (can't remember his actual name) from Dr. Jordan's office. We got Simon's fecal result back, and he has giardia. You don't need to worry too much, since although it's transmittable to humans, it's pretty difficult to get it. But since you have a newborn at home, we wanted to give you a call right away.
me: ok, what do I need to know? how could I get it?
VT: well, it's only transmittable through fecal-to-oral contact. You know, if simon licks his butt and then licks someone else (those weren't his exact words, obviously). You don't let the dogs lick the baby though, right?
me: umm.... yes (only all the time)
VT: but not on the head, right?
me: umm.... yes (only all the time - that's where the baby tastes good, duh!)
VT: well, if the baby has giardia he would have pretty bad diarrhea.
me: he's a baby. he poops ten times a day. And it's pure liquid. How in the world would I know if it's the 'rhea?
VT: yeah, you should probably call your doctor.

(We now know that Nathan did NOT get giardia; neither did Bowden, for that matter. All animals have been bathed, treated, and all poopies are out of the yard to avoid recontamination. Since I know you were dying for the follow-up. And if you have read "fecal" this many times and are still interested, you deserve the follow-up.)

Anyway. In light of the Giardia Incident of 2007, this birthday card is hil.ar.i.ous.


Thanks Aunt Debbie!