Coming Out Of The Closet

If you're a mother who says you dislike nursing your baby, you might as well just tell the world that you like to kick little puppies too. There's all sorts of pressure to breastfeed after giving birth. After Taylor was born and I survived my near death experience at Kaiser, I couldn't and didn't want to breast feed. But the nursing Nazi's at Kaiser still proceeded to push and push until breast pumps were thrown. No joke. But Corinne's been a whole other experience. I enjoy nursing and am completely thrilled about the benefits it will have for her. I'll do it as long as I can for her first year of life. However, I work two days a week. Thanks to a good friend, I have a pump I can bring to work with me. I went back to work three weeks ago, pump in hand, thinking that a world which emphasizes the rewards of breastfeeding would surely accommodate a working mother who'd still like to breast feed. WRONG-O. "You need a place to do what??" was the reply I got from the administrator at school, when I explained I'd need a little privacy twice a day to pump. Long story short, I'm pumping on the floor of a broom closet in the nurses office. I sit on the floor next to dirty buckets and brooms, praying the janitor won't accidentally come in, and I pump. So much for accommodations. Today I said, "Screw it!" and just pumped in the women's restroom for all to see as they came in to do their business. One teacher came in and was appalled that I had no chair or privacy and vowed to take this matter up with the principal. Lovely woman. But I doubt that our male principal will give a flying you-know-what. But I refuse to sit in that darn broom closet any longer. It's degrading.

Forcing Friendship

I think it's the unspoken part of motherhood that's totally taboo to talk about. The word that if uttered, would have every other mother in the room giving you the stink eye. The "big B" as I refer to it. Dare I say that lately I've been......BORED! Bored, bored, bored!!! Bored outta my gord! Bored like the Easter Bunny on Christmas. Not that I have nothing to do. Quite the opposite, actually. But I'm finding it much harder to entertain Tay these days. She's not quite 2 1/2 , and I think she just has way more fun with other kids around than with her boring mommy who has to drop what she's doing to nurse and tend to a baby so often. We take field trips every week to museums, parks and places that we have a blast at but at home she's constantly asking me, "What can we do, Mommy?" Translation: I'm BORED!! And I can echo those sentiments. Tay's just at the age now where another toddler is way more fun than an adult. And so our story begins.....

When we moved into our home, we noticed another little girl about the same age as Tay who lived just a few houses away in the same model we moved into. We walked past her playing outside with her mom and big mouth that I am, I started up a conversation. Turns out we have SOOO much in common. We live in the same neighborhood, same house, both with babies, and have daughters one month apart with the same name, born in the same hospital, in the same c-section room, with identical Tinkerbell rooms, with the same toys, and the same way of talking incessantly as if they were twice their age. So of course I invited them over. They accepted, came over, played for an hour at which time I suggested we do this way more often. How nice to have friends in the neighborhood, right? Well I must smell or something because we didn't hear from them. Fast forward to last week when Tay and I were about to go bizerk from boredom and I decide that enough is enough. We WILL be friends with these people. Come hell or high water, I will MAKE them like me. I'm not THAT bad, and it's not fair to keep these two little girls from forming a friendship. So I put the baby in her kangaroo pack strapped to my chest, wiped the chocolate off Tay's face to make her look like a clean cut kid who any parent would love to have over, and we high tail it down the street. Marching almost. I can hear the beating of battle drums in my head. We won't take no for an answer!

Knock, knock, knock....

"Hi. Remember us." We basically walk in without being invited, but end up staying for 40 minutes just chatting. We picked up right where we left off, and ended up having a playdate last Friday where the girls painted in our garage and the moms shot the breeze. So my pushiness worked and she suggested we do it again every Friday. We'll see. Hopefully we've made some friends. We'll know for sure next week if we knock on their door and all of a sudden the lights go off and we here someone say, "Shhh. Be quiet. It's them again." The funny thing is, I've always felt so shy around people I don't know. For me to be the pushy neighbor is pretty hilarious. Since we've moved here, I've had the overwhelming desire to bring the neighbors together. I've helped plan the Halloween block party, had kids over to play in my house and garage, ran up and down the street to announce the HOA meeting, and have just basically been a pain in the butt. But I don't want to wait for a fire or earthquake to know these people. And EVERYONE has kids, so it's always nice to know someone else who's in the same boat as you. I guess I get it from my mom since I can remember having everyone on the block over at our house growing up.

Other than that, the girls are great. Tay drew her first picture that actually resembled something. She finished and said, "It's Grandpa." Which Grandpa? We don't know since they all sort of resemble the pic. LOL. Luckily I was with my mom so I have a witness that she actually drew it herself, unassisted. The next Picasso.....She says things lately that have me beaming. Today she took my face and said, "Mommy, what color are your eyes." "What color do you think they are, Tay?" "They're green!"

Tay's first picture.

Corinne is a sweetie pie. I just love her more everyday. She coos and smiles at me and melts my heart. We have the occassional crying episode when I'm lazy about my "nursing diet." But other than that, she's a happy girl. She has great head control and doesn't even mind tummy time all that much. She's 10 weeks today and the time is already going by so fast. I guess time flys when you're having fun....and exhausted.

At Gull's Wings Museum with Grandpa

At the zoo with Nana

Poop and Such

If you're easily nauseated, do NOT continue reading. I blog on this topic not to be disgusting, but so I can put it all into perspective at the end of this very hard week, and laugh. Sometimes you either laugh or you cry.

Taylor has been what I'd consider successfully potty trained for 2 weeks now. This week she finally pooed in the potty. Not exactly blog material, I know, but I have to say it was pretty flippin funny. She had a look of utter shock and terror on her face when it happened, stood up and screamed, "That's my poo poos?????!!!" "Yes, Tay. That's your poo poo." (Taylor, looking completely traumatized, starts crying.) Freud had a theory. He believed people really don't like to poop because it's like losing a part of your body. Apparently Taylor is on the same page as Freud.

Last week was a little hard with Corinne. Since I didn't breastfeed Tay, I didn't really know all the nursing rules that you're supposed to live by if you don't want your child to go nuts on you. So on Sunday and Monday I ate cheese, lots of cheese, drank chocolate milk by the gallon, half a loaf of jalapeno cheese bread, and spaghetti with a ton of garlic. Apparently Corinne's digestive system wasn't equipped to deal with what I consider a tasty diet. From Monday to Wednesday she screamed bloody murder. She had me in tears and had Wes pulling his hair out. I thought there could be something seriously wrong with her so I took her to the pediatrician on Thursday with tears in my eyes. I lay my sweet baby down on the table and pour my heart out to my disgruntled pediatrician who has probably heard this sad song a million times. I tell him how awful she's been, that there MUST be something wrong with her. At which point he looks at my kid, who smiles and coos at him, and I could swear I saw her wink. She made me out to be a big liar. So he explained to me the ins and outs of my new diet that will no longer involve garlic. Thanks doc. He'll be retiring in Jamaica with the money I've spent on copays the last two years.

Mommy, working hard to ease our financial burdens by cutting down on diapers.

Her first on camera smile at 7 weeks.



Corinne with Ma, Wes' Grandma, on one of our playdates at their house. How lucky are we?



Logan, Tay, and one of Grandma's goats at our playdate. I think the goat's smiling for the camera too.




Gardening in Pa's garden.


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