Fail

Nap in the crib = FAIL

To the swing it is! Little Sister is 7 weeks old and has never slept in her crib....

Photo sessions

Just a preview of one of our photo sessions:

I've never been more excited about poop...

I've never been more excited about poop than I am right now. Mini Me has finally pooped on the potty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Grandpa(s)!

Mini Me would like to wish both her Grandpa's a special Happy Birthday. My father and my father in law have back to back birthdays. So, here's Mini Me:

Oh, yeah. And, if your wondering what is going on with her nose...

Well, yesterday she had a huge tantrum in her room and flipped herself over the foot of her bed and that is the result.

The epic post where I vent about breast vs. bottle

::steps up on soapbox for a very important (and long) public service announcement::


Let me preface this by saying that I was formula fed as a baby, and so was my husband. I think we've turned out just fine. Just like the millions of other people who were formula fed as infants. Right? Cool.


However, in recent years, the mantra that is drilled into expectant parents' heads is "breast is best". It's even printed on the freakin' formula can! (Note to formula company: Thanks for trying to make us feel better about using your product ::eye roll:: )

So, how can you, as a pregnant woman, declare that you do NOT want what is "best" for your baby? Well, folks, let me tell you. That declaration comes with a huge side of old fashioned guilt for many women. How do I know this? Let me explain...


When I was pregnant with Mini Me, I was one of those aforementioned individuals bombarded with the message that to be a good mom, you *had* to breastfeed. Even though I had no burning desire to, I just went along with it. Yup, I'm going to breastfeed. (However, I added the caveat that I was perfectly fine with formula feeding and I really thought I was--this will be important in a minute).


So, when Mini Me was born, I dutifully brought her to the breast and attempted to feed her. For 2 days in the hospital, every time she fussed, I brought her to my breast despite the fact that I was in excruciating pain, bleeding and just hating it. Still, I put on a happy face and declared that I was breastfeeding. woo hoo!


Until we got home. Then it all changed. There was no nursery to send her to at night. No lactation consultant there with me the instant I needed her. Just me, the baby, and pain. Add to that: a jaundiced baby who had NO desire to nurse and would just sleep every time I brought her near my breast, yet would SCREAM bloody murder if I wasn't trying to feed her. Between the pain, exhaustion and frustration (for all of us), I broke down. I remember the moment so clearly. I was in tears, and told hubby to go get a bottle of formula. I felt like a complete and total failure. Why was I devastated when I had already declared that I was perfectly fine with formula? Social pressure, plain and simple.


While Mini Me (and, by extension all of us) may have been happier once she had a belly full of formula, I was miserable. I felt incredibly guilty. I felt that I had given up too quickly and didn't try hard enough. But, looking back, it was the right decision for us. There's no way to fully comprehend how difficult becoming a parent is, much less learning all those new skills while sleep deprived.


Fast forward to present day... still the same "breast is best" message. This time, I remember the guilt I felt and decided I would give it another try. This time, I would not give up so easily since I KNEW how hard it was going to be. OK, let's go for round 2.


When Little Sister was born, I have to admit that I still had some reservations. I mean, I bought bottles, "just in case". It seemed that I was setting myself up to give up. And, I did waffle a bit in those early days. Here's the thing. I tried the breastfeeding thing. It went well for a few days.

But, I have to admit something: I felt no more 'bonded' with LS than I did with Mini Me. For me, there was nothing really special about it. I really wanted her to have the benefits of breastmilk (more on that later), but didn't really LOVE breastfeeding the way some women claim to. (I say claim, because I'd be willing to bet that not as many women love it as that say they do...just sayin')


Anyway, when little sister started to have some weight gain issues, and the pediatrician suggested just pumping for 24 hours to make sure my supply was sufficient, I obliged. And, you know what? Other than the time it took, I was happy. I didn't have to worry about how much she was getting. I *knew* she was taking enough, because I could measure it in a bottle. I could look into her eyes as she ate. She could hold my finger. Bottle feeding worked for us.


So, once we had established that my supply was sufficient, I didn't put her back to the breast. I could have worked with a lactation consultant to fix her latch issues. But, I didn't want to . I was happy with the way things were. She started gaining weight and was doing well. So, I spend a few hours throughout the day pumping. It's working for us. It's not ideal or convenient by any stretch of the imagination (it would be fine, if I only had the baby to deal with, but...well, you know) but it is manageable...most of the time.


Great, your thinking, right?


Um, nope.


See, even though Little Sister gets beastmilk, apparently it's not good enough for some holier than thou types. In some circles, unless your child is attached to your breast for the better part of the day, you don't qualify as a 'breastfeeding' mom. Um, okie dokie.


But, what's worse is the constant explaining I have to do. Why do I feel the need to explain my decisions to total strangers? I have no idea. And, really, why do random strangers feel that it's any of their business whether I'm breastfeeding or not? Sorry, but baby in hand or not, my breasts are not topics of public conversation (this blog post excluded, of course).


And, even at the pediatricians office, I'm asked if I'm breastfeeding or bottle-feeding. Here comes the babbling about bottle, but breastmilk, blah blah blah. A better phrasing of the question would be breastmilk or formula. Maybe I'll put that in the suggestion box.


So, what's the point of this incredibly rambling post? It is simply that I wish that people, especially other moms, would just respect each others decisions and recognize that what works for you may not work for someone else. Yes, baby on the breast is the most "natural" way to feed a baby, but you know what? Who cares?



Unless you see me feeding my 6 week old a Jack & Coke in her bottle...STFU. Thank You!

The post where karma bites me in the ass

So, yes, I know there are MANY parents out there who hate us. Mini Me started sleeping through the night at just under 4 weeks, and Little Sister has slept through the night 3 out of 4 nights now at 5 weeks old. ::covers head and ducks under the desk::

But, rest assured that last night, karma bit me in the ass as a little reminder not to take sleep for granted.

Our little doggie Napoleon has been acting weird for a couple of days and has been sick. Last night, it got worse and progressed to diarrhea and some blood. :-( Poor little guy was dehydrated and is refusing food and water.

So, I ended up in the doggie ER with him at 2am. He got checked out, they gave him some fluids and meds. They offered to do a slew of very expensive tests to find out what was wrong, but I declined (with some guilt). After all, he probably just has a $250 tummy ache from eating something that Mini Me dropped on the floor. Sweet.

We made it home just in time for hubby to get ready for work, and Mini Me to be up for the loooooong day ahead. Napoleon is resting comfortably right now and hopefully will be feeling better soon. Me? I also require an IV...attached to the coffee pot. ::yawn::

Hip Hip Horray!

At the risk of completely jinxing myself...

Little Sister has slept 8-9 hour stretches for 2 nights in a row! Hip Hip Horray!

I'm getting more sleep now than when I was pregnant! Woo Hoo!

Trick or Treat

Happy (day after) Halloween! I trust that everyone is sufficiently in a sugar coma.

Last night was Mini Me's first night of Trick or Treating. It was quite an experience.

First of all, it was a balmy 65 degrees. Perfect! Yay! No need to worry about coats and mittens. After, it is fall in New England.

At the first house, Mini Me was a little too friendly. She didn't quite understand why we went to someone's house and didn't go inside. In fact, she tried to walk right in a few times, and I needed to explain the idea to her.

After she got that first piece of candy, she caught on pretty quickly. By the time we had gone to the third house, and I prompted her on to the next one, she exclaimed, "I like houses!". She picked up the pace and was practically running from house to house, even up a big hill. My little Abby Cadabby ran into an Elmo. A perfect pairing, I wish I had gotten a picture of it.

Of course, we didn't stay out too long, as she hadn't napped all day and was exhausted. Besides, by 7:45 it was starting to sprinkle, so we decided to head home. Mini Me actually needed to be carried back. She was beat.

We let her have one piece of candy before sending her to bed. Then daddy and I divided up the candy. We made a pile for Mini me and then split the rest between ourselves. What? Don't judge...she doesn't need all that sugar.

Here are some pics of our night:

Picking up the pace..running to the next house.

The stash

PS

I was very proud of Mini Me. Seems as if we are some of the few parents left in town that insist that their kids are polite. I heard very few "thank you's" from the other kids. My kid said 'thank you' to every single person who gave her candy. In fact, I required it if she forgot. Non-negotiable. In fact, there was this pair of older girls (12 or 13) who first of all, pushed in front of Mini Me a couple of times. We were at one house in particular where the gentleman was giving out full size candy bars. Nice, right? Not only did the girls not even bother to say "trick or treat" (again, which I made Mini Me say instead of just grabbing candy when the person opened the door), but they just took the candy and turned around and walked away without saying one word to the man. Then halfway down the driveway, I heard the one girl say, "I like it when they give full size candy bars". Then, would it have killed you to say thank you?!?!?!? The weren't my kids, but if they were I would have made the march right back up to the house. That's not cool at all.

1 month update

Little Sister had yet another follow up appointment today. I am VERY happy to report that she gained 14 ounces in one week. Yes, almost a whole pound!

She is now 8 pounds, 8 ounces! Hip Hip Horray! We don't have to go back until her regular 2 month visit.

One Month

There's a post that goes along with this picture. But, in true baby fashion...she just woke up. Later.....