Don't Play With Your Food

Like most mornings I woke to find my son happy, wiggling, and ready to offer me plenty of smiles. I'm often amazed at how much of a morning person he is given that both his parents are so anti-morning that we would rather sleep till 12 just to bypass the AM portion of the day.

As we settled in for his morning nursing session I took note that he was slightly distracted and said a prayer of patience. The older he gets the easier it is for the littlest thing to grab his attention and as he tries to take in the entire world at once he forgets that he is, at the moment, attached to my chest. I'm constantly trying to make sure he doesn't rip anything off while eating as he turns his head, pulls back, or vigorously kicks his feet in the excitement of who knows what.

This morning I got lucky, he let go before pulling back and giving me a full gummy grin. Laughing I asked if he was done and watched as his eyes grew large at the sight of my nipple. He looked at it like he had never seen it before and fascination radiated from him from head to toe. He mouthed like he was hungry but as I attempted to reattach him he reached out and grabbed me instead. Upon him getting a hold of me he was squirted with his breakfast causing me to let out a laugh. The shock on Andrew's face as he was squirted with milk was hysterical and followed with a laugh of his own. Smiling he reached for me again and I caught his hand before he could squirt more milk on the two of us and encouraged him to latch instead, no success.

His excitement over his most recent discovery was unabated and he kicked his legs furiously while trying to eat and smile up at me at the same time. Surprisingly the milk stayed in his mouth as he continued to kick and then out of no where started to smack my breast. The noise and obvious increase of milk caused another look of shock and excitement. He was so proud of what he had discovered and seemingly wanted to further his research. After only a minute or so of this game and discovery I clamped down on his feet with my elbow and his hand with my own and did my best to encourage him to stop playing with his food and just eat, which he finally did.

Now unless he is down right starving he wants to play with his food. When given a bottle he gets right down to business but when nursing he wiggles, giggles, kicks, and attempts to play; anyone know how to get him to focus with out starving him first?

Milk It

For months prior to giving birth I fretted and worried over whether or not I would breastfeed or formula feed my baby. I devoured article after article on the debate and even attended a free breastfeeding class offered at a local hospital. Advice was given freely to me on the subject and each seemed to have a strong opinion one way or the other. I found that scientific research varied just as much as human opinion as to which was the better option. There are numerous reasons and scientific proof on both options and for some the choice is made for them. I was lucky enough to be able to make my own choice.

One month before my son was born I made a decision to breastfeed with a realistic goal of 6 months; keeping in mind that my goal may change once I returned to work and saw how my body responded to pumping. Again, the advice came pouring in: bottle vs. breast, pumping vs. nursing, how often of each, ect. My head, yet again, began to swim with all the options that were involved when feeding my son as I, for the second time, set out to take in as much information on the subject as my brain could handle. In the end I decided to make my own decision and I find that it changes on a daily basis as I allow my body to tell me whether or not I need to nurse or can allow my husband to give our son a bottle.

My need to work both emotionally and financially sent me out on a search for the perfect pump and for the third time this first time mom scowered the internet for research and reviews. I learned very quickly that my insurance would completely cover the cost of my pump with a prescription from my doctor and an order from the right provider and I was able to save us over $300. With the goal of 6 months of breast feeding in mind I began pumping and saving and storing every drop of breast milk I could.

Surprisingly, some of the most common questions asked to me as a new mom are: "How is the breast feeding going?" and "Are you still sticking with it?"


The picture above shows our current supply of breast milk. Each plastic bag (5) contains around 20 6-8 ounce bags of breast milk, which is roughly 700-800 ounces of milk or a 2 months supply.

I'd say the nursing/ pumping is going pretty well... ;)

Three Months

There are days where I just can't believe that my little guy is three months old. He seems so much bigger than three months and we can see him progressing and learning every day.

He is still very much a sweet heart and loves to smile at anyone who will look at him! On numerous occasions he has melted the hearts of complete strangers whether they be man or woman. Who wouldn't be won over by that sweet smile, big blue eyes, and red hair?! I tease Brandon that he's so content with strangers that one day someone will whisk him away from the daycare and he won't say a word in protest.

He has begun to fuss a little more but only when hungry or overly tired and is otherwise content to sit, watch, or talk to himself. He loves to carry on a conversation with anyone who's willing to talk to him and as he gets older I foresee him getting in trouble in school for his excessive talking; just like his mommy.

While most days is he is content to entertain himself with his own hands or the sight of his own feet I've noticed in the last week or so that he is showing signs of separation anxiety as I go to leave him at daycare. This is an issue I have mixed emotions over. I love that my son misses me and wants me around; however, I don't want him stressing out every time I leave. His day care has handled it marvelously and we could not be happier with the choice we made in placing him in their care during the day.

I guess you could say that we are still in la-la land when it comes to being parents. I am not saying that I want to jump into having another child right now; the thought of being pregnant again right now is NOT at all appealing, but we both are completely open to another one when the time feels more appropriate.

In the mean time we are enjoying every minute, smile, and crocodile tear that Andrew wants to give us. :)

Button

For weeks each time that I have gone into the nursery to change Andrew’s diaper on the changing table I have found the lid to the wipes box laying on top of the box. Every time I grew frustrated at having to, yet again, put the lid back on the box and wondered what in the world Brandon was doing to the box to have the lid CONSTANTLY broken off. One night after changing Andrew I finally remember to ask; I picked up the box and asked Brandon to show me how he opened it. I watched as he took his fingers to the edge of the lid and a loud belly laugh escaped from me as the lid popped off in his hand. Laughing with me he asked what was so funny? I once again replaced the lid on the box and with a dramatic sweep of my hand I pushed the button that opened the box without removing the lid. Brandon’s eyes grew in size as we both laughed and he shouted:

“ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!”

I shut the lid and pushed the button a second time allowing the lid to pop open without popping off. I doubled over in laughter as Brandon laughed and cried out: “They need to have new daddy orientations for these type things!” As I continued to laugh at my sweet husband he refused my sympathetic hug and teased me to get out. While making my exit I dramatically showed him how to open the wipes box again and again. :)

I wonder if I’ll find the lid torn off later just to spite me… and the box.

Suspision of Society

Pulling into the post office parking lot I took notice of the line that was already forming in the lobby and reminded myself, yet again, to never come to the post office during the lunch hour. Gathering my mail I double checked my purse for keys and locked the door as I stepped out in to the parking lot. As I entered the building I hardly took notice of the people and sighed at the length of the line I was now going to have to wait in. Keeping my head down I fiddled with my mail and pulled out my phone just to have something to do that would keep me from having to make eye contact with anyone; I'd been having a rough day at work and the last thing I wanted was be forced into small talk with a complete stranger. I held my purse even closer and lowered my head as far as my neck would allow as two men entered and got in line behind me. I was so focused on keeping myself from making eye contact or having to smile at anyone that I almost missed a small black woman approach and ask if she could borrow my phone.

Taking a moment to process that someone was talking to me I just gaped at the woman as she smiled and spoke again: "Miss, canna borrow your phone. I needa place a call and dey aint gotta pay phone."

The shock I felt that someone was talking to me and had asked me a question must have registered on my face as she continued to grin at me with all her teeth showing. I took in her bright pink lipstick that stood out against her dark skin and the vibrant teal scarf around her neck that didn't really match her deep red shirt and velvet purple pants. She carried a large black fake leather purse, that had seen better days, and despite the bright and sunny weather she held an umbrella. In her other hand she carried a plastic grocery bag that's content was a mystery due to the knot tied neatly at the top. As I took all of this in she just continued to smile and look at me while patiently waiting for me to answer her question.

Feeling that her bright pink and toothy smile was contagious, I smiled back at her while handing over my phone without speaking a word. As she carried on her conversation with a cab company my heart wrung for this sweet old lady who had enough spunk to ask a complete stranger to borrow a phone. Her smile never wavered as she requested a pickup and delivery for herself.

Checking the clock I took note that I still had forty minutes of my sixty minute lunch break left and began to formulate a plan in my head. When she handed my phone back to me I spoke to her for the first time and offered her a ride.

It was her turn to be shocked and as she did with me I just smiled and patiently waited for her to respond. "You don't needa do dat. I'ma just goin to Kroger across da way."

Reassuring her that I didn't mind and convincing her that it was just across the way she shook her head and mumbled how nice it was of me. Finishing up my mailing we headed out to my little car while I asked if there was any where else she needed to go. Teasing her that I was to be her free taxi service for as long as she required my assistance she nervously bent down into my passenger seat and pulled her purse close to her chest as she buckled her seat belt.

Within minutes we were pulling into a parking spot in the Kroger parking lot. Remembering that I needed to pick up a few things myself I climbed out of the car with her and took in the look of trepidation that now crossed her face. Giving her a toothy smile that matched her own just minutes ago I explained my own need to visit Krogers and watched as relief caused the wrinkles around her mouth to sag just a little more but were almost immediately deepened as she broke out another smile of her own. Coming around the car in a quick shuffle she took my arm at my elbow, she was almost a foot shorter than I, and began sharing with me her excitement that she had come to Krogers to buy a phone: "... onna those pay before ones dat I can use to call me a cab with."

At the mention of a cab she looked up at me and winked. Not intentionally following her to the stand with phones I watched as her eyes took in the display and saw the second confusion crossed her face. She turned to me with eyes wide, the spunk I had seen in the post office and parking lot had been replaced with uncertainty and it made her look even older. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and although I wasn't certain if they were shaking before her hands now shook.

Prying my eyes from hers I took in the display of phones and quickly digested the information in front of me. Thinking that she would need something simple and user friendly I recommended a small flip phone and picked up a correlating phone card with 150 minutes. As it had in the parking lot her face changed in an instant, the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes deepening as she gave me one of her toothy smiles. She snatched up the box and card in my hand with triumph, straightened her shoulders, and with a bounce in her step she made her way to the self check out. Again, not intentionally following her I felt drawn to this woman and the need to make sure I followed my good deed through to the end caused me to fall in line behind her with my own needed items completely forgotten.

Knowing that she would need help activating the phone and minutes I lead her to the front of the store and took her bag from her hands. I opened her bag and reached for the box focusing on my task of getting this woman set up with her phone. Within seconds a manager approached and firmly asked what I was doing?

Startled at his presence and stern voice I simply gawked at the man confused as to what and why he was asking. Clearing his throat he took the phone box from my hands, confusion coming to me in waves, and handed them to the sweet old black woman with a tight smile. I vaguely registered her shocked and confused face that quickly reverted back to the pink toothy grin I had come to know so well in the last 20 minutes.

"Whatch you doin young man, dis woman is my gaurdian angel and you treatin her like some criminal. She helpin me so if you please give dat box back to 'er. Lord knows I needa, dats why he sent 'er to ma."

His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as the woman snatched the box from him just as she had done from me only minutes ago. Flashing him yet another pink toothy smile she proudly handed the box in my direction and pushed her purse back up onto her shoulder.

Involuntarily a chuckle came busting forth from my gut and I doubled over. With my eyes squeezed shut I let out a laugh loud enough for all of Krogers to hear. I imagined what our situation must have looked like and felt pity on the manager as he stood there completely taken aback at the woman's exclamation. He saw a white woman in a suit take a bag from a small mismatched old black woman and whether or not he understood the situation he acted on a society driven impulse. I don't know if it was the smug look on the old woman's face or the disbelief and shock on the manager's face but I found the whole situation highly amusing. My laughter didn't cease as the manager took his leave and the smile on the woman's face, to my surprise, only got bigger. Looking somewhat like a dog with a tail between his legs I could tell the manager's pride had been punched in the gut and all the fight was knocked right out of him.

Getting back to the task at hand I set up the phone and offered another ride. No amount of convincing that I could take her somewhere else stuck as the spunky old black woman insisted on making her first call, she called a cab company. Double checking to make sure she didn't need anything else I bid the woman goodbye and made my way out to my car to head back to work.

Checking the clock on my dash I saw I had just enough time to get back to work with in my sixty minute lunch break and reflected over the last hour. The woman had called me her guardian angel and the manager thought I was a thug dressed in a suit. Laughing to myself as I turned up my stereo and lowered my windows I felt compelled to pray for the old woman and the manager. Remembering the defensive nature in the managers voice and body language a sad realization damped my laughter and gaiety of the situation; my good deed was seen as theft and for the first time in my life, that I can remember, I was prejudiced against for being white.

The drive back to work was solemn as I prayed for both people involved and gave thanks that it was me that offered the spunky woman a helping hand and not someone who had ill intentions in mind. It seems in our society today that it's true that no good deed goes unpunished.

What a depressing thought.