Milk of Human Smugness

Dear Midwife,

I understand you have to talk to many women every day about all sorts of things, and that your answers have become a bit rote. When I told you yesterday that I had a really hard time nursing my son and would like some good suggestions on how to make things easier for this next one, I didn't really need to ten minute thesis on how superior breast milk is to formula. I didn't need to hear for the umteenth time how many nan-nuero-super connectors breast milk has in it and how if a baby is able to get just a taste of that milky goodness he or she is destined for life long greatness.

I've already heard it all from the internet, friends, family, strangers, and my own inner guilt voice. I know I should have tried harder, as you implied, to nurse my son more diligently. I should have forced him to nurse even when he was screaming because he was hungry and getting nothing from my breastables. I should have forced myself to stay up longer at night to make sure I pumped every drip of milk out of my sleep deprived body I could find. I should never have started him on formula, never given him a bottle, and definitely never given up on nursing even when we were both so exhausted we spent every non-nursing minute crying.

Here's the real scoop. If a woman can't/isn't nursing her child chances are she's tried everything in her power to make an attempt first. I've heard of very few women who choose voluntarily to not breastfeed. For them I'm sure it was a very personal decision also and I'm sure their babies are fine. For me I was physically unable to produce enough nourishment for my child. With baby #2 I want to give it the ol' college try for sure but what I most definitely do not need are any more lectures on how superior breast milk is. I get it. We would never tell a mother with a kid in in a wheel chair, "Oh, walking is so much better than sitting around all day. You really should let your son get up and move around". So why all the guilt about nursing?

That is my rant.

Signed-

To Each His Own

Groceries Shmoceries

Eli falls out of the grocery cart: lecture from a Macy's bagger on using the straps (but sir all of the straps in pretty much all of the carts are broken).

I get in the express lane with about 100 things in my cart on accident: lecture from an old man on proper express lane etiquette (but sir my son was screaming and I didn't notice what lane I got in...see above on cart falling out of.)

I set Eli down for a sec to load some of the groceries on the belt and he takes off running: nasty glares from all other mothers in the store who are probably thinking I am incompetent and crazy as I go tearing through the store yelling in my best Walmart voice.

I told Dan I will not be taking Eli to the grocery store again unless I can find a pet carrier for him...you know...like the ones the rich ladies use to haul their chihuahuas through the airport in?

Motherhood

Here's a link to a great video clip from Elder Holland from our church. I watch it whenever I'm feeling like a failure and it always makes feel so much better. I am so grateful for the chance I have to be a mom. My little guy is the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me, save meeting his father. I can't wait to meet our new addidition in a few months and start another relationship with such a special little soul.

My Princess List

I just realized that I'm a bit spoiled. I have an amazing husband, a great kid, a...dog...and life is very good. Sitting here on the couch while Eli naps, sipping an ice water and reading an obligatory NY Times article on the budget crisis, it suddenly hit me just how lucky I really am. And with all the good fortune, I starting thinking about the things I have in my life that would be very hard to give up. I'm not talking about family or religion or anything that really matters. I mean the niceties I am blessed with that I don't think I would ever want to part with. Here's a list.

-indoor A/C.
-a fabulously jungle-like back yard
-2 cars
-3 bedrooms
-our king size bed (I would give up my washer and dryer before my bed)
-car A/C (of which one of our cars is lacking at the moment...making it so much more of a priority)
-a pool pass
-a Costco membership
-a wheat grinder
-2 bathrooms
-close proximity to an Ikea, a Costco, a Target, and a TJ Maxx

That's about it. These are all things I could live without if forced to do so...but I really like my upper lower middle class American lifestyle. If we ever have to pull a handcart back to Missouri I'm going to have to get a double wide...man that bed is going to be a beast to get through the mountains.

Con Troll

Hm. I may have just experienced what the kids these days call an 'epiphany'...or at least a slight kick to the frontal lobe that has me thinking about things.

I was recently reading a friend's blog post on the birth of her new baby girl. She talked about their birth plan, which was incredibly detailed and specific. I felt a momentary twinge of guilt. When I was pregnant with Eli I never once even thought about a birth plan or course of action when labor hit. I knew I wanted drugs, I knew I was going to be in a hospital, but that is about where it ended.

Pondering on this I thought maybe it's because I'm ok with things being out of my control. That's not to say that people who make detailed plans and have very specific expectations for things are control freaks or any other pejorative phrase. I greatly respect those in my circle who are detail oriented. I just have never been like that. I seem to thrive when a a bit of chaos is present. Not too much, mind you, but just a little.

I think that's one reason epidurals and pain medication makes so much sense to me when thinking about labor. I don't have to plan anything really. I can leave it up to someone else to get things going and get the pain managed. It's probably also why I really do get a bit of a rush flying standby when I travel. I never really know what is going to happen but the decision on whether I go or not is left to a system, not to me. It's as close to gambling as a little Mormon girl like me can get.

I do love organization, don't get me wrong, but I also enjoy situations that are unplanned and unpredictable. I probably will never have a detailed birth plan when I have a baby because there are so many thousands of variables that come up I just would rather let things happen and go from there. I will probably never be the type of mom who can manage to remember every single item needed for a successful trip to the pool, beach, park, ect. (mostly because I am so scatterbrained) but at least we go, right?

Re-reading what I wrote here this all sounds like self justification for disorganization. Let me just sum up by saying I do believe very strongly in plans and forethought, but I also love when things go differently (in most situations) and life takes me by surprise. Ugh. Now I just sound like Oprah.

Harvest

I'm laying in bed resting while Eli naps. I'm not quite tired enough to sleep, so I thought I'd put some thoughts I've been having lately in writing.

I have a little garden in the back yard. It's small, just a few tomato bushes and a sprawling zucchini plant, but it has been a lot of fun taking care of it thus far. Last week I was out pulling some weeds and I noticed four or five little green tomatoes poking out from the screen of green leaves. I was thrilled! To be honest...I sort of forgot that what I was working for; actual harvest.

That made me think about the relationships I have in my life. I think sometimes I treat life a lot like I treat my garden. I work really hard on the maintenance parts of things, the diaper changing, the counter wiping, the budgeting and church duties, that I forget that I get to harvest at some point.

Let me put this in perspective. Eli is a lot of work. I could spend all day (and have) tending to my Eli garden, just doing the necessary things to keep him alive. Many times I have to remind myself that I need to harvest. I need to sit down with him, play a game, go to the park, or just give him a hug. There's no sense in having a garden if you don't ever gather the fruit!

This analogy may seem corny (no pun intended!) but I really do think I forget so often that life is meant to be more than just a series of weeding, watering, and pruning. We are meant to harvest! Sometimes the harvest comes later, and the maintenance is essential, but the fruit can be so sweet.

Those are my ramblings for today.

*Cue Circus Music*

***I wrote this last night but Blogger was being a pill and wouldn't let me post it.

Ok...I know two posts in two days is a bit excessive. But I would be remiss if I didn't eulogize the events that transpired today. In retrospect they are almost too horrifyingly comical to be real. But believe you me...they were.

Enter Eli...stage right. He woke up at a nice 8:30 thank you son. That was about the only thing positive he did for the day. First item of business: orange juice all over the carpet. That wasn't so bad. I cleaned it up and fixed us some breakfast. Breakfast ended up all over the floor. Cue the dog. That wasn't so bad.

As I was cleaning up from breakfast somehow I managed to whack my hand against the bookshelf in our kitchen. A few muffled profanities later led to the discovery of a massive bruise and some nasty swelling just below my thumb on my left hand. Lovely. Ice.

After nursing the hand a little energy kicked in and I decided to deep clean my kitchen. 2 hours later and things were shiny. Unfortunately all my cleaning brought back the nausea that had subsided during the morning. I had a really good day yesterday and I over did it. After two or three offerings to my favorite porcelain god I put Eli down for a nap and laid down myself. 30 minutes later he was up. Bad nap day. Headache commenced. Went to get Eli out of his crib only to find a massive poopy had erupted.

At this point I called my dear friend Katie. Katie is wonderful. She came over and helped me. No. She came over and saved me. She made me lunch, made Eli lunch, took Eli out for a walk while I napped, and helped me clean my living room...which was buried in toys and wrappers and what-not. Dinner was spaghetti and meat balls, but spurred the second bath of the day after Eli painted himself in sauce.

Ten minutes later I noticed an odd smell...a bad smell...coming out and around my son. Then I noticed poop...massive amounts of poop...coming out of his diaper. So much poop. On the carpet, on the chair he was sitting on, on him. I grabbed him, Katie grabbed stuff to clean the carpet, I dry heaved a few times, put Eli in his 3rd bath of the day, and we started the reparations.

Ten minutes after poop-agedon Dan came home. I was almost crying, Eli was sobbing, and Katie was still cleaning the carpet. Dan got Eli's pjs on and took him with him to run Katie home. I sat down for the first time in a few hours and thought about making a run for the hills. But I was too tired. So I decided to bore you all with this epic post.

That was my day. Here's to better days tomorrow.