Boob Juice Is Full of Vitamin SHAZAM!

so, early on nursing was really hard, for both henry and myself. but now that we're in month #4 and he's bigger and more coordinated and i'm more confident and used to it, i feel like we've really gotten the hang of it.

and i love it! i'm over the bizarre/freak out/invasion of the body snatchers thing and just think it's really darn cool that i can sustain him (ie: make his knees so fat they've lost all definition) with just my body. i even think the white white milk is kind of pretty. (is that totally strange?). and when i'm at work and away from him for 9 hrs a day, it gives me a little joy to be still taking care of his needs by pumping to feed him the following day. it's a quiet few minutes when i can think about him and look at his pictures and get my mind out of the work chaos and onto the important chaos.

i feel extremely blessed that i've been able to breast feed. not everyone can, and i'm just really glad that i have been able to, and that's it's been fairly easy for me (look ma, no bloody nipples!).

and...so even if you're not all up in the whole baby world or the medical world, you have probably still been inundated with the concept that breast milk is like sunshine dust when it comes to feeding babies. it's the most nutricious, full of the bestest fats and germ-fighters and brain-boosters. it fights autism and obesity and nuclear war. it is like liquid miracle and kids that get it will grow bigger, stronger, smarter and have more teeth. they will excel in spelling and punctuality. they will be able to dive off the high dive by their 3rd tiny tadpole swimming lesson and they will skip crawling and walking and will be dancing like ginger rogers by 6 months. and they will never talk back.

:) of course i'm being silly (see, i was breast fed, so i have an enhanced sense of comic timing), but in truth, there are lots of good reasons to attempt to get a baby as much breast milk as possible- by breast feeding your own milk, pumping and bottle feeding your own milk or bottle feeding donated milk from someone else.

of course, some people are unable to breast feed and should NOT feel like they've somehow let down their child. formula is a fine alternative designed to provide the same basic good juju as breast milk. but i think people who don't at least give it the ol' college try (in my experience, it's a cultural thing- if your mom and your mom's mom did or didn't breast feed, you're taught to/not to do it. same thing with using glass versus metal casserole dishes or mayo/miracle whip) are missing out. if you are able to do it and stick with it long enough that it stops sucking, it becomes cheaper, more convenient, and gives your baby all the skillz he needs to succeed in the world. like fat knees and hands.

but it's also an extremely personal thing and its not for everybody. the lactation consultants and la leche leaguers have gotten a bad rep for pushing the nursing agenda so militantly. it can really be off-putting to have some strange lady squeezing your inflamed nipple while lecturing you on nipple confusion. tina fey in her book "bossy pants" (if you haven't read it yet, leave this blog, go directly to amazon and buy it. so good! so funny! so smart! then come back.) says...

"There are a lot of different opinions as to how long one should breastfeed. The World Health Organisation says six months. The American Association of Pediatrics says one year is ideal. Mothering magazine suggests you nurse the child until just before his wedding rehearsal. I say you must find what works for you. For my little angel and me the magic number was about 72 hours."

she goes on to say that breast feeding moms can be really smarmy and act all superior about it and are only humbled by the MORE sacrificial, compassionate moms- those who have adopted their children. it's really funny, but it's also probably really true. i hope i'm never an a-hole about the fact that i'm nursing.

and please, may i never discuss nipple cream with my friends without kids. i've been on the other side of THAT disaster and i gotta tell you, i still haven't really forgiven this person. you know who you are. no, not you. YOU! the one with the chafed up chest berries and one less Christmas card in the mail every year.

The Papas and the Mamas: A Message from The Robb

my father-in-law inadvertently gave me some good advice during his "oh, god, are you sure you want to do this?" speech when we informed him of our plan to get married. he said that when you're married you'll always feel like you're sacrificing much more to your spouse than you receive; it's rarely true, but it will feel like that. and having a baby is much the same. no matter how many nights sarah gets up to change henry's diaper or how many mornings she wakes up at 5 to feed him, i focus on the nights where she fell asleep on the couch at 9:30 while i do the dishes and the laundry, and then feed and change henry at 10:30. most nights i'm lucky if i'm asleep by midnight. but most mornings, sarah's lucky if she can sleep to 5 without a 4am diaper change.

early infancy is definitely a mother's game. she carries and births the baby. she gets the time off with the baby. she has the breast milk to feed the baby. she has earned her relationship with the baby. but one thing i picked from reading "the happiest baby on the block," is that while the desire to soothe the baby is instinctive, the knowledge of how to do this is not. while the mother has earned her role, she is not a magical being who holds the secrets of the baby. so i read the books and learned the techniques, too, and with the same passion and energy that apply to anything else i'm really excited about doing. very quickly i got very good at taking care of the baby to the extent that i could.

the one really obvious thing i can do as a father that is very gender neutral is change a diaper. in the first few weeks of henry's life, when sarah was so exhausted from breastfeeding and vigilance, the one relief i could provide her was changing his diaper. i got so good at it that she started calling me the "diaper wizard," which is way better than the "lazy, video game playing, internet surfing wizard."

the reason for all of this, though, is because i want to do it. i desperately want to be as useful to my son as sarah is, within practical limits. i want to have the time with him. i want to see him smile, hear him laugh, and have the incredible satisfaction of providing for his needs. i have learned that people most love the things that need them the most. and my love for my son has grown with the scope of my care for him. no wonder so many men feel alienated from their infants when they are unable or unwilling (or disallowed) to care for them.

being a good dad also helps with those in-laws who might still be on the fence about me. :)

The Mamas and the Papas

recently i've noticed people reacting in shock and awe when they see robb taking care of the baby. our daycare center ladies (the "misses") think it's great that he drops henry off in the morning and knows his ass from his elbow when it comes to hj's care. and when robb was wearing him in a sling the other day at the mall...man, it was like robb was the pied piper and cute girls were his rats. ok, i get that men with babies and puppies are total panty droppers. that's not what surprised me. what surprised me was that everyone was so impressed that he was handling his son and taking good care of him. he didn't need my permission or blessing or instructions to meet henry's needs- he just did it.

apparently even in this day and age, where most of the time both partners work full time and (allegedly) share domestic responsibilities, the children are STILL considered the mom's job and the dad is just a trusty assistant (or not).

well, homey don't play dat. we decided before we even started working on 'this whole baby thing' that we were either both all in or it wasn't going to happen. henry isn't my kid more than he is robb's, so we're both the experts (and the total flops, depending on the moment).

now...all that self-congratulatory, aren't-we-so-progressive stuff aside, we're struggling just like anybody with the mom/dad issues.

i had 12 uninterrupted weeks with henry 24 hrs/day. robb got 2 weeks and then had to go back to work. so he was jealous of the time we shared, naturally, and in all that time with henry, i got to know his ins and outs really well, also naturally. and i feed him, so there's that. robb gives him a bottle now and then, but mostly all those hours spent each day with him growing fat at the teet are just him and me. so between the fact that he saw my mug most of the day for the first few months of life and that i smell like milk (you like sugar, huh? "is there sugar in *breast milk*?" yea... "then YES"), there are times that i can comfort him more easily or make him laugh sooner, etc. and it takes all of my self control to not swoop in sometimes and try to "fix" whatever it is that i see robb doing 'wrong.' and sometimes i fail at this. and, really, it's not wrong, how he's doing it, it's just different than how i do it.

and it drives robb crazy that i'm hovering and suggesting obvious fixes and such. naturally.

and when i was on leave, i was only too happy to give robb plenty of alone time with henry at night after i'd had him all day...but now that i'm working the same hours that robb works, i want me some henry time at night, too! so we're sort of tug-of-warring on him all the time.

and do i secretly in my dark evil little heart sometimes think to myself that i DESERVE more time with henry because i was the one who had to take the hormones that turned me into sweat soup and i was the one who was pregnant with hemorrhoids and aching feet and i was in labor for most of a day and it was my genitals that were all to' up and my boobs are all inflated mockeries of their old selves and i have to run between cases at work all day to pump milk and i sometimes spill breast milk on my scrubs and it's totally embarrassing and i sometimes have to wake up in the middle of the night to feel the hungry baby bird while robb sleeps peacefully???

no. i've never thought that. how could you suggest that?

:)

we'll figure it out, but it's been a little rough. i am very thankful i have the fella i do, because most of my guy friends with kids just write off the first 6 months of their kids' lives because they feel useless and can't rough house with the kids yet, so they let their wives be the main parent and they just act as parent aids.

i'm glad our 'problem' is that we both want to spend all of our time and energy taking perfect care of our perfect boy. this is a good 'problem' to have.

and now, for your enjoyment...i call it "naked baby butt."

Drop It Like It's Hot/Feel the Burn

so my weight and clothes-fitting-ness keep going up and down, but generally i'm feeling pretty good and looking less like a funhouse mirror version of myself.

not that i'm quite ready to put away the muumuu, but i'm dangerously close. so i went jeans shopping today (heart the buckle). and, miraculously, i managed to find some semi-stretchy, ass-highlighting, leg-lengthening jeans that can be worn mid-way up my pannus so as not to accentuate either my below bulge or my moist and juicy muffin top!!

the jeans were a success. the shirts, however, notsomuch. the problem is, these wonderful life-giving mammaries are still huge like meatloaf's bitch tits. and so no shirts fit very well.

and i'm not working out as much as i'd like to. i find that i'm really busy now that i'm back to work. between keeping the house in order (kinda) and playing with/feeding el bebe (a lot) and working full time, i'm worn slap out. (= lazy blogger, sorry guys). so i'm not running often and haven't done yoga in weeks. and i can feel the repurcussions. the other day i was making henry squeel and giggle a lot by quickly dipping him down to the floor. so, essentially, i was doing full squats. and he kept laughing, so i kept squatting.

i, maybe, did 12 of these. this is 4 days later and i still am feeling the burn. oy.

but we're getting there, day by day. inch by inch. ounce by ounce. figuring it out and recognizing my body under the fluff.

Can You See the Resemblance?

this is me making my henry face. and henry, making his....henry face.

Three Months and Thriving

first day at daycare went great! we somehow had actually sent him with everything he needed (i had this nightmare vision of us forgetting something like diapers and them having to use paper towel and duct tape or forgetting milk and them giving him cut up pieces of flank steak or head cheese because it was all they had).

they figured out our hippie cloth diapering thing w/o a problem. they also swaddled him when he needed it and he slept and ate well. tra-la!

and when i got there to pick him up at the end of the day, the main teacher of the infant room said "he's very serious. we finally got him to smile and laugh a little at the end of the day, but it took a lot of work." but when i woke him up and he saw me, he was nothing but easy, huge smiles. which made me feel like a million bucks. he actually knows me and evidently even likes me! huzzah! it's possible that this is the staff's method of making new parents feel reassured about leaving their spawn for the day. i'm guessing when he says his first word or takes his first step while there, we'll get a report that says something like "henry is SO close to walking. try working with him tonight..." that's just good business.

so at 3 months he is happy, healthy and beautiful. and more and more fun every day. he constantly "chatters" with coos and other funny noises and he smiles and laughs fairly easily. he rides better in the car, his sh#t fits are fewer and farther between. he tends to just sort of fuss/whine instead of explode now. and he is drooling and chewing on everything...don't feel any tooth buds yet, but i think they're lurking not too far under the surface.


and he's starting to reach for and play with things. he always has something in one of his little monkey paws and it's then immediately put in his mouth.

and he sits up stronger and more independently...although left unaided he still tips over on his head (no surprise-those cheeks must be heavy!). but he's pretty laid-back, so if he tips over onto something good to suck on, no problem.

he hasn't rolled over yet, but he does sort of scoot himself w/ his legs like a tadpole. especially if he's been put on his tummy and he's pissed. he makes annoyed noises and scoots. probably toward the door to escape.

what else? no doctor visit this month, but he's over 14 lbs now and growing like a weed.


all in all, he is a little pile of heaven and we're feeling very blessed that he landed with us.









v

First Day of "School" Tomorrow.

well, tomorrow is tiny dancer's first day at real daycare. i have his backpack packed, his lunch made and all his clothes labeled with his name. it will be just like school except the kids are encouraged to crap themselves and just like summer camp except that i doubt very much he will be making any dream catchers.

i'm a bit anxious about it just because no stranger has watched him yet. we've been fortunate enough to have just family caring for him so far (my amahzing sister, erica, for the past couple weeks while i work- taking great care of him, PLUS doing laundry, cooking, etc, etc..this week she made vegan pizza! everyone should get themselves an erica). he's pretty easy going, but the centers have safety restrictions on swaddle usage and how/where they can sleep and such, so i'm hoping he plays by the rules and sleeps for them. we shall see.

i was whining a bit about how nervous i am when we dropped in the center earlier this week to finalize things and the director ("ms. patty") said that some parents cry the first day, some are fine, and some scream at her. wha-wha-what? yes, she said some get really irate and take it all out on her. that doesn't seem very sensible. i mean, you're worried about what kind of care your kid will get at this new place so you stress out and you yell at the caregivers, basically starting your kid off on the wrong foot with them and potentially causing them to get worse care. lame. it's like the patients we have to chew us out in pre-op before their surgery for us running 15 minutes late, not realizing that they're about to be neked and unconscious and wholly at our mercy. just sayin'. might want to be polite, right? right.

robb drops him off tomorrow. i trust there will be no yelling. wish him luck!!

Circle of Life, La la La la LA-LA...I Think I Might Be Pumbaa

my grandfather's funeral was this weekend and it was emotional, of course. not only for his loss but also with all the old family pictures floating around of my aunts and uncles and my sister who passed away. some i never met (and wish i had) but i know their deaths left holes in the lives of others and some i miss desperately and wish very much that they knew my little hank.

what a blessing it is having this little pile of joy. how much healing we all get from tiny arms wrapped around our necks and big toothless smiles thrown our way.

i reflected that, unfortunately, most of the funerals i've been to in my life were those of young people. my sister was 10 when she died and i've mourned the deaths of several teenagers and young parents. not that any death is easy to understand and cope with, but a life like my grandpa's that was long and lived fully with potential realized and accomplishments logged is easier to see come to a close than those cut so short, i think.

i've wallowed in loss a lot over the last while. i thank God every day that He pulled me through the last few years and kept me intact enough to still be able to experience this joy and wonder at henry's new life. and i thank God for this perfect, amazing, healthy little boy. it is overwhelming how blessed we are.

it does make me wonder about the 'circle of life' and regeneration. henry's social security number is a lower number than mine which we take to mean it is recycled from someone who has passed before him. is there any truth to the 'recycling' of souls? hard to say. robb allegedly described having been a grandfather when he was age 2 and old enough to talk. who knows....

:)




sometimes it is totally believable that, although he can't talk to us, he understands everything that is going on.

and he is not amused.

Do You Have a Case of The Mondays?

back to work this week. everyone has been really sweet and concerned about how i'm adjusting. there have been good moments and bad, but overall, i'm doing fine.

i mean, i miss young hankenstein, but that's expected and i'm getting through it. i've always missed robb while we're apart, but it's unrealistic to expect someone to pay us to hang out together on the couch all day long,

and i like getting paid since i'm partial to things like food. and toilet paper. so i'll go to work for my 40-ish hours/week and just love the hell out of both of them when i'm home on nights and weekends. and since i get paid great money (think scrooge mcduck rolling around on mountains of gold coins) to do something mostly really fun, i don't mind being at work at all. and it means we can afford to pay for excessive things like organic food and cloth diaper service (yipppeee!).

it helps a lot that we haven't had to put monkey in daycare yet. he'll be starting at the center next week 2 days/week and will otherwise be home with my sister, erica, until she finds a nursing job. so he's in her really capable, fun hands and i need not worry. plus, she's somehow finding time to not only watch him but also do laundry, keep the house clean and bake vegan muffins! what the what? we should have hired a nanny long before we had a kid. this is awesome.

and at the day care center, he will learn english, spanish, and german in their toddler program. erica is also working on molding him into a sophisticated chap. he gets tummy time often and hears english and elfin spoken in "true blood" regularly. :)

so far our morning ritual is working out ok. i wake up a little after 5, shower, nurse henry when he wakes up and then robb plays with him while i pump, then i squeeze on some hank cheeks for a while and robb gets ready and then we all canoodle for a bit before i go to work. robb leaves a little while later after getting henry changed and ready for the day. after we're both gone, i imagine erica and henry sit at the kitchen table and have a cup of coffee listening to NPR while reading the paper and making jokes about bernie madoff and the decline in quality chardonnay grapes.

and it was a short work week...this weekend, we head up north for my grandpa's funeral. it is a sad time, but not only are we grateful that grandpa may now find some peace from his pain, but i have to admit that i am distracted from my grief by my own ecstatic joy with henry. and the family feels some comfort from his little warm hug, too, so i'm glad to deliver him up there to bring sunshine to this dark time.

i had to find something appropriate for henry to wear to the funeral and visitation and such...and surprisingly, carter's does not carry solemn black suits for infants, so we settled on a long-sleeve button up onesie and a vest. it'll be pretty warm tomorrow, so this dapper ensemble will likely not involve any pants. 100% class this one. :)