Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Here is looking at you

I always thought those commercials, tv shows or movies that showed little boys peeing into an unsuspecting face to be stupid.  Kind of a Little Rascals meets the Three Stooges humor.  Not my style.

Pee-in-the-face humor reminded me of Three's Company - Mr. Roper always managed to overhear just the right part of a conversation to allow the perfect storm of misunderstanding.

No more.  

That shit is real.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, peace, health, happiness and babies to everyone.

Love always, 
Roccie

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Not like riding a bike, for the record

Here I am writing one handed again, but this time the other hand is putting birthday cake in my mouth, not cradling the head of Baby Jay.  He was born and several days later I turned 41.  Life is pretty great to me these days.

Baby Jay is tricky.  I know tricky isn't the right word, but baby freak show sounds mean.

He cries when he is getting his diaper changed (most of the time).  He cries when he thinks it takes me too long to pull my 23 pound breast out of its harness.  And that is it.  

What kind of game is he playing???  

I don't understand this baby.  After he eats, he sleeps.  Soundly.  In a bassinet.  For hours.  The madness.  I follow his lead and breastfeed on demand, usually around every 2.5 hours, but I typically see 3-4 hour stretches at night.

What.  Baby Jay is a cake walk.  I am certain it will all fall apart now that I have written it, but it was fun while it lasted.

Toddlerina slept in a car seat for months.  (Please note this was only after a demonstration in the pediatrician's office to ensure it was safe.)  She ate almost every hour for most of the day.  She never napped.  I heard "wakeful baby syndrome" theories.

Breastfeeding is an ass kicker.

Holy cow, I just don't remember it being this hard.  I saw blood on my sweet baby's face, had a heart attack, then realized it was coming from my nipples.  Brutal, brutal pain.  Brutal.

I cry out involuntarily when he latches on.  It scares Toddlerina, so I need to turn the yelps into a song.  I could win an Oscar cause I really just want to rip my breast off and throw it into the pond.  Similac, take me away.

Want to hear my naughty, self medicating solution?  I have some hyrdrocodone prescribed to me to manage the c-section pain.  I take a modified dose more for my hot zone boobs than for my Frankenstein scar.

I honestly don't know that I could have survived this week breastfeeding without the meds.  I am a cheat.  Hats off to those Mommas who survived the grim ramping up on breastfeeding stark cold sober.  Damn women, let me hear you roar.

Hope this doesn't frighten new moms or mommas in progress.  Harsh reality is that breastfeeding is hard.  The buy in price is huge, but if you can clear that debt, you get back a bajillion times more.  I adore breastfeeding.  Love it, just not the first 90 seconds on the right breast.

Much love to everyone.  Always reading, just a little comment hiatus in the short term.