So, one week from today is my 1-year-anniversary of blogging. You may have noticed I've been MIA lately. I have had to put my writing aside for a while to get my house ready to sell, sell my house, and look for a new house (no luck there). And, let's not forget pack my house with three children 5 and under climbing in boxes, crying over toys I have thrown in a yard sale pile, and finding any chance to sneak my box marker and write on walls, furniture, and self. Anyway, it's all exciting stuff, and I am looking forward to one day being settled enough to sneak in a blog here and there. But, for now, "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit." And, in honor of my anniversary, I am going to repost my most popular blogs from the last year each day for the next week. If you joined me in the last 3 months, then many of these will be new to you, so just pretend I'm doing awesome this week! For daily doses of Crap, Like me on Facebook!
Soooo ... it's my birthday, and I have a friend who "gets it." She gave me the perfect gift today ... the Dammit Doll. I will keep it in the garage (or, on my husband's pillow when he's in the doghouse). The garage is where I go when I need to blow off some steam and find my head before serious disciplinary action is about to occur.
If you haven't seen this doll, here is what it says on the chest: "Whenever things don't go so well, and you want to hit the wall and yell, here's a little Dammit Doll, that you can't do without. Just grasp it firmly by the legs and find a place to slam it. And as you whack the stuffing out yell, 'Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!'" #dammitdolls For daily doses of Crap, Like me on Facebook!
It starts with a mid-week outing with girlfriends to a local
wine bar for a sparkling wine tasting. Okay, what is the next day going to look
like for this stay-at-home mom so that she can take a nap in the afternoon?
Pool … yes.
The sun and two full hours of pool play should be enough to
drain their batteries. We even eat lunch at the pool so I don’t have to clean
the kitchen. On the drive home, three sets of eyelids looking heavy in my
rear-view mirror. So far, so good. I have set myself up beautifully.
We get home, and I top off the baby’s tummy with another 8
ounces of milk. He’s got his lovey, his fan, and his darkening curtains. He
goes down without a peep. The 4-year-olds are weary and don’t fight me when I
send them to quiet time. I tell them I will get them after an hour and to stay
in their rooms until I come in. No doubt in my mind they will sleep today.
I clear off the three loads of unfolded laundry from the top
of my bed. It can wait … again … probably until we wear all of those clothes.
My sheets on my unmade bed are cool. The air conditioning is on a comfortable
74 degrees. My pillow is fluffed and ready to welcome my chlorine and
sunscreen-soaked head. The ceiling fan is on low. My cell phone is off. Hello,
nap. How I have longed for you.
It only took about 20 minutes and some meditation and deep
breaths to get rid of the anxiety of what I SHOULD be doing before I settled
into sleep deep enough to drag some bodily fluids down the side of my face. Why
do I drool when I nap? Does anyone else do this? Only during a nap … not at
night. Weird. Anyway, I’m pretty sure I even started to dream, when …
“Mama … Mama … Mama,” like the beeping of the most annoying
“Maybe if I ignore him he will go back to sleep. It’s only
been 30 minutes, for God’s sake!” I think.
“Mama … Mama … Mama.” Then, a couple minutes later, “Dada …
Dada … Dada.” Then out of utter desperation, “Puh Puh … Puh Puh … Puh Puh
(Capri).” Then a couple minutes later, “Wuh buh … Wuh buh … Wuh buh (Weber).”
Because I know you all enjoy the humor that is my boy twin ... Last
night, he got up to pee and his penis was stuck to his testicles. I said
something about it and his face lit up with the expression, "Sweet! I
don't have to push my penis down," and went hands-free. I gasp and tell
him he better hold on or it's going to break free and shoot him in his own
face. He didn't seem to care, just had the biggest grin I've ever seen in the
middle of the night. Boys. For daily doses of Crap, LIKE me on Facebook.
In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I'm putting myself out
there with this picture of me feeding my third-born shortly after his birth.
I experienced difficulty breastfeeding my twins, with
frustration of not producing enough for both, difficulty and pain getting one
of them to latch properly, and lack of time and help with completing other
tasks. I was breastfeeding one, bottle feeding the other, and pumping between
feedings in an attempt to increase my supply. But after four weeks, my mother
and mother-in-law had to leave and I gave up ... buried in frustration and
household chores. I made it five weeks with them until I gave into formula and
a better life for my family. I knew it was the right decision for us, but
couldn't help feel guilty when I would see a mother of 9-month-old twins
breastfeeding with the ease of chewing gum. My twins are healthy kids, rarely
sick, and intelligent. I had many opportunities to snuggle them and find
intimacy and closeness. I don't regret what I had to do--nor should anyone else
who chooses formula.
With my third, it was much easier. I produced enough--even
for the little piggy that he was. I enjoyed the intimacy with him. And, I had
peace of mind that I was doing the best thing for him that I possibly could. I
was also very fortunate to never feel judged for breastfeeding in public. It's
quite possible I just never paid attention to it. Or, maybe it's possible
people are beginning to accept this act as exactly what it is ... nourishing a
child ... period.
There are many reasons why a mother would choose formula
over breastfeeding, or have no choice in the matter at all. No matter what
mothers choose for themselves and their babies, I think all mothers would agree
that everyone should support a breastfeeding mother just as breastfeeding
mothers should support a formula-feeding mother. Happy World Feeding Week ...
breast milk or formula, we feed with love.