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Tuesday, August 20th, 2013
We went to visit some of Phil’s family last week. In true anal-retentive form, I did all the laundry before I left, taking great care to fold it in the order it would go into the drawers. Do I need to repeat that sentence? Yes, I painstakingly arranged the laundry just-so in the suitcase. In the order of where they go in the dresser drawers.
Phil has his own suitcase. I can’t blame him. In our new house we are going to have a walk in closet and neither of us wants to share with the other for fear of breaking up our marriage.
We arrived home late Friday night, exhausted from a full day of travel with Fia and Emmett. Particularly the latter since he’s a boy. Which means he’s into everything. Sitting still is like being a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay.
Sidenote: I honestly don’t know how the male species has sustained itself. There is no reason any boy should live past 2 with the constant death march they are on. I’m terrified to take my eyes off Emmett these days.
Anywho, we get home late, get the kids to bed, and I open up the suitcase to unpack. A plume of powder hits me. Fine, white, somewhat sticky powder. I’m surprised I didn’t end up on an episode of Locked Up Abroad for transporting cocaine. Then again, we didn’t leave the country. Nor was this cocaine.
The nearly full formula canister I had must have exploded in flight. Either that or the baggage handlers were hungry/thirsty.
Does anyone know how rank that stuff smells? And how hard it is to shake off clothes? Or vacuum out of a suitcase?
I have spent the last 3 days doing 7 loads of laundry and vacuuming and washing out my suitcase. It is now sitting in the sun to bake out the formula smell.
Phil is smirking. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be obsessive and anal…
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Baby Travel, bottle, breastfeeding, cleaning, cleaning obsession, cocaine, formula, laundry, suitcase, travel, vacuum | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Have Baby, Will Travel, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips
Tuesday, May 15th, 2012
My controversial boob post caused me to miss Fia Friday. Gasp. I’m sure all of you are waiting with bated breath to see pictures of my children. And while they aren’t nearly as interesting as the boob stories, (including Time Magazine’s) I can emphatically say they are prettier. Especially when Wayne Sanchez is involved.
My Cat Has No Boundaries
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Saturday, May 12th, 2012
Ah, the boob. Between the Time Magazine story and my blog, I’m now actually sick of my breasts. In light of that, I thought I should post some of the positive comments from my controversial post (ie: Why The Boob Rocks).
In all seriousness, I got to thinking that while I’m opinionated, I also like to consider myself fair. And in my rebuttal post, (My Boobs Are Taking a Hit. Ouch!) I only singled out the negative comments. My hypnotherapist would be disappointed.
Here are some of my favorites from you guys.
(#1) Breastfeeding rocks !! It helps and makes things easier & it goes even better if you have a husband that helps out & don’t see it as a job but as team work! I love my Boobs & Husband!
(#2) It forced me to stop and sit down, rest and think. That was priceless for my sanity. Now that I have #2, same story.
(#3) I’m breastfeeding #4 and feel exactly the same way as the author. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only one on one time I get with him! So I AM going to enjoy nursing him, even if that means my three other boys have to learn patience and my husband has to get up to make breakfast.
(#4) Thank you for this article. My husband and I are trying for baby #2 and this helps me to put everything in perspective. I was worried that I would drown in extra childcare duties but maybe it won’t be so bad after all! LOL. And I SO miss nursing. Excited to continue with the next child.
What’s funny is my blog became a huge debate on a) how the husband should or shouldn’t help and b) my selfishness in pushing for my husband to help/wanting to have alone time with my infant and c) breastfeeding while having a glass of wine.
Alcohol is always a controversial topic when it comes to the boob. You already know where I stand. But here are a few more commenters who feel the same as I do. And let’s all be grateful we live in a country where we CAN speak our minds, as opposed to a place like, say, Iran (where I would clearly be dead by now). So cheers ladies!
(#5) While pregnant at a nursing class at NY Presbyterian Hospital in NYC I happily learned–As long as you don’t pass out, drinking while nursing is fine! Breasts are filters. Placentas are sieves. Drink Up!
(#6) Omg ladies, get a grip! Yes sometimes the toddler has to run amok a bit while I nurse #2 but he hasn’t burnt the house down or eaten the dog yet. A glass of wine isn’t going to hurt anyone- moms and docs around the world agree. This is my life too- but husband travels so I do a lot of juggling. It was meant to be funny- not as a “everyone do as I do or you’re a failure”! Lighten up!
(#7) Get a grip ladies! I found the humor in this article, so should you all. My husband was deployed for the first 8 months of our daughter’s life and I’m finally getting a 36 hour break while he takes her to a family wedding and I stay home. Am I selfish? Probably. Am I ecstatic that I’m finally getting a break? Hell yes. I also have a drink while or before or even after I breast feed my daughter (yes we are still breast feeding at 13 months) and she is perfectly healthy, happy, and active. Relax, have a glass of wine yourself, and find the humor.
(#8) Geez girls some of us seem to have our negativity hats on today.Instead of thinking she’s being selfish try thinking she’s teaching her daughter to be more patient, more self soothing and self sufficient (skills she’ll need as she get older) as for her husband…let’s see…ummm…she’s letting him be a dad! Raising kids is frustrating even for us Mom’s and 80% of the time someones not going to step in for us and take over as she clearly says she does for her husband. If this was a piece written by a father who admitted he took a little quite time every day under the guise of doing something else (honestly do you think their “guy stuff” is all work and no play? My husband has admitted it’s not and he does some of it to get away from the kids too). Your comments would be quite different and I’m pretty sure the word selfish wouldn’t have been uttered.
(#9) Being a mom IS a JOB. Regardless is he works or not, he should help. That’s the problem with a lot of dads, they thing they can just push the children off on the mothers because most women fall into that “oh well my husband works” crap. Even if moms do work the men still get a get-out-of-jail-free card simply because they’re men. Did any of you ever think that…hmmm…before baby #2 she did spend time with child #1 and now she wants to give baby #2 as much as attention as she can to bond with it more while giving the dad and their daughter time to bond? Didn’t you read where she said while her husband goes back to sleep she plays with THEM (being BOTH her children). And drinking ONE GLASS of wine is harmless!
(#10) How dare you call her a “Lazy mom” just because she likes spending one-on-one time with her children, and yes she may be getting a break but she is still bonding with her new child while giving dad and daughter a chance to bond.
(#11) Last feeding happens, then wine time! Best time of the night.
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attachment parenting, boob, bottle, breast, breastfeeding, drinking, formula, newborn, nursing, Time Magazine, wine | Categories:
Thursday, May 10th, 2012
I had no idea my boobs would stir up such controversy. Maybe I’ll get implants next. In lieu of all this, I decided to just let Fia, my 2 1/2 year old, take over feeding Emmett the bottle, while I lay drunk, passed out on the couch. Plus, this way neither Phil nor I have to parent. But wait; will I still be called “lazy” for putting my toddler in charge? Maybe…
I’m referring to my post, Why the Boob Rocks. Most people who commented (particularly on the Facebook link) “got” that it was a humorous article on getting the most bang for your, well, breast. As in, use it to your advantage when you can. Why not? You can’t be called neglectful (though I was actually) for feeding your infant while your husband feeds your toddler. You can’t be called selfish (though I was. Hmm) for having some alone time with your infant–helping him survive, ie: eat--while your husband deals with the household. And god forbid you have a glass of wine while doing all this feeding nonsense. That set off a sh-tstorm.
Here are a couple favorites:
(#1) “That’s sick is about all I can say. Drinking while feeding your child. Being lazy while the man does all the work.”
(#2) “I have 2 under two and have nursed and bottle fed. it sounds like she is finding an excuse to ignore the daughter. drinking while nursing? wtf? yes, it would take some time before the alcohol entered the breast milk but nonetheless you are promoting a dangerous habit. Just because you “can” drink does not mean you should. Think about all the young and new mothers that are reading this article for advice and do not know how to “safely” consume alcohol while nursing (I personally would never risk drinking and nursing despite what research says). This is an irresponsible article that is not helpful to parents with kids close in age.”
(#3) “I am all for breastfeeding, i breastfed my son for a year..but to disregard your other child completely and use nursing as an excuse not to interact with your child. Disgusts me!”
Yup (#3), that’s exactly what I do. Fia who?
Here is my rebuttal:
For all the teetotalers out there–RELAX! I’m not getting sh-t faced and nursing my child. If you drink a glass of wine while feeding them, by the time it gets into your breastmilk–filtered by Mother Nature– Hello!–they are done feeding. As some of the more reasonable commentor’s pointed out, doctors/pediatricians/lactation consultants all say it’s fine in moderation. And drinking a glass is moderation. I would go as far to say 2 glasses, but I’m afraid I’ll have to don a bulletproof vest. LA is too hot for that.
I think it’s amazing that my husband is not only able–but also WILLING to be a team in parenthood. I’m selfish because I want to nurse my child and let’s see–maybe enjoy it? While he gets time with our toddler? That’s whacked. I think the moms who viewed it this way must be martyrs, humorless or both. Why else would you be so negative?
A few brought up drinking wine with Emmett’s reflux issues. It’s a legitimate point and I thank you for your concern. Here’s why it’s not part of his barf equation:
If you boob feed a baby at say 6 pm, take a few sips of wine, finish the feed, finish the wine, then don’t feed him for another 6 hours (as it’s in the night now, and he is going longer stretches) he isn’t getting any alcohol. Plus, let’s not forget breastmilk is a filter. Many of you aren’t giving Mother Nature the credit she deserves. But just to be cautious, I time it strategically. If on occasion I have more than one glass within a feed time, then I give him a bottle of pre-pumped breast milk. (Fia will now be taking over that duty.)
The other thing: his reflux is most extreme during the early morning feed. I promise I’m not downing Bloody Mary’s. So these theories that I’m harming my baby with a glass of wine are simply unfounded and silly. Moms, lighten up! Enjoy yourselves! However that may be…
I think Time Magazine missed the boat on breast feeding your 3-year old. They should have had the mom holding a wine glass in this incredibly disturbing cover picture. But I’m not touching that one! At least not yet.
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boob, bottle, breast, breast milk, breastfeeding, breasts, drinking, drinking while nursing, formula, implants, nursing baby, parenthood, reflux, Time Magazine | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Mom Situations, Must Read
Tuesday, May 8th, 2012
My boobs have become a secret weapon in survival. And not just because they feed my child.
When Fia came, it was all me all the time. I was drowning in her barf and tortured from lack of sleep. I became resentful that everything was put on me, even though yes, I am the mom.
Flash forward to Emmett. I am the picture of calm. That’s not an adjective you would typically use to describe me. But between hypnotherapy and the beauty of the boob, it’s a totally different scenario the second time around. Phil on the other hand seems to have postpartum frustration. He stomps around; I sit in lotus. He’s angry; I meditate. Here’s what shifted:
Fia’s melting down at dinnertime? Sorry honey, I gotta go feed Emmett.
Fia’s awake at 5:51 every morning? Sorry honey, Emmett’s hungry.
When you have the second baby, the parenting of the toddler falls more on the dad. Or at least in our house. I’m not kidding when I say that I get an extra hour-plus of sleep every morning because of this. AN HOUR. PLUS. Do you understand what that means? That’s like winning the lottery every day. I lay in bed with my little man as he nurses and we drift off to sleep. It’s heaven.
Cut to Phil downstairs with Fia screaming for Elmo, spilling orange juice and crying for eggs (Phil hates eggs and can’t make them. He claims he will barf. And we have enough barfing in our family with Em’s reflux).
At around 7 or 7:30 (the latter if I’m feeling greedy), I serenely float down and take over. Phil goes back to bed for an hour. I cook eggs, clean up the OJ and read the paper. I hold Emmett and Fia watches Sesame. Or we all play. It’s great. And to be fair, Phil wakes back up refreshed. Don’t feel too sorry for him–I’m not killing the guy.
At night, as Phil is trying to get Fia to eat, I’m sitting in the living room, a glass of wine in hand, watching the news, nursing my boy. Ahhhh… this is the life!
I’m lucky to have such a hands-on husband. I don’t know what I would do if he weren’t. But I wouldn’t have married someone who didn’t look at our relationship as a partnership of equals. I will admit that the scale is tipping a bit more in my favor lately. I’m taking it–guilt free. I carried these babies for 10 months. I endured another c-section. And I know that eventually everything circles back to the mom. This is a temporary reprieve.
When Emmett’s reflux started to increase last week I panicked. Not only because I want to breastfeed him for health reasons, but for my own personal Zen. Hell, if I keep getting these kinds of breaks, I might breastfeed him until he’s 4. Or 14.
So for all you moms out there expecting baby #2, this is my big secret—use the boob. It’s survival for us. And justified because it’s also survival for your baby. Nothing wrong with that.
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babies, barf, bottle, breastfeed, breastfeeding, formula, hypnotherapy, reflux, sesame, spit up, toddler meltdown, toddlers, wine, zantac | Categories:
Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, Must Read