13 months later

Now that I have a child in double-digit months (14 in a few days!), I've realized how different things are from a year ago with a small infant.

• Life is so much easier. 

To get out the door, all I have to do is make sure he has a sweatshirt/jacket on, sometimes put his sneakers on, grab the diaper bag, and hand him his cup of juice for the ride. 

Oh, and the bear. Always the bear.

It used to be that I would have to time my departure on Harrison's nursing schedule (oh wait there never was a schedule), and consequently nurse him the very moment before I was supposed to leave, make sure I was home no later than two hours from when I left so that I could nurse him again, and usually change his outfit once before we left because he had spit up all over himself. 

Also, with an infant, you can't just set them down and go on with your business. For the first few months, you have to carry them in that damn car seat carrier, which weighs no less than 247 pounds, while also lugging around the diaper bag, that you've packed FULL of bibs, pacifiers, rattles, and obviously- diapers. Quick trips to wegmans can never be quick, because you have to configure the carseat carrier in the shopping cart, which is practically rocket science. 

Plus, if you had my child, you had to be holding him at ALL times. That shit is not easy. When do you find time to make a sandwich? Never, that's when. 

• I laugh like all day.

Can you tell why?

Not that I never laughed with a 3 month old, but the laughing has reached new levels. And actually, I used to cry a lot because all Harrison would do was cry, so I'd even go as far as saying laughter has replaced the tears. 

I'm going to take a second to brag, which I normally never do since what 20-something is going to be like, "I am so jealous of her life as a stay-at-home mom. I wish I never had the freedom to go out and spent all my money on diapers". However, while that is all true, I guarentee I laugh more than all ya'll. What's that phrase, laughter is the best medicine? Because it seriously is. Harrison makes me laugh all day long, and I finally am really happy to be where I am in life. I realize that sounds horrible, because it took me almost 14 months to become a happy parent, but guys, I was working with the devil child, ok? 

And for some not-so-positive changes:

• the poops have reached a new level of rancidness. 

Breastmilk poopies smelled like roses compared to what I'm working with now. Although, to quote the great recording group, Outkast, "roses really smell like poo poo poo". Solid food diapers are easily the worst smelling things to enter my nostrils. 

• Feeding this child is costing us a small fortune.

Kid loves to eat. 

Evidence

  

Especially the most expensive food items, like raspberries. The cost of feeding him for the most part of his first year was free. Free is always better. 

But the fatter the happier

On a daily basis, how often do you laugh? 

Follower-Mom

When it comes to my parenting, I tend to be a follower. Not in the crazy sense, where if I hear that some lunatics out there refuse to vaccinate their children, I'll follow suit, but more just the little things.

For example, when I heard that other moms had started turning their children's carseats from rear-facing to forward-facing sooner than the recommended age of 2, I was all like, "Yea, eff the American Pediatric Society! What do they know?" and proceeded to turn Harrison's carseat forward-facing right then and there. To be fair, the minimum weight requirement for a child to be facing forward in the car is 20 pounds, and he was like 21. So that was that.

Worked like a charm

Or when I heard that breastfeeding is God's gift to babies and formula is the devil, my decision was a no-brainer. Formula-fed babies are clearly under-developed and less intelligent than breastfed ones.... HA! But no really, not that I had a real specific devotion to or opinion of either option, but my mom suggested nursing because she was a fan back in the day, so there I was, easily convinced and lactating away. Wait, no now that I think of it, my decision to BF was solely based on how many calories it burns a day. You all knew that already though.

Really though, really?

So now that I have an almost-13-month-old on my hands, who barely makes 2 consonant sounds a day, I find myself becoming a follower once again. Sure, every mom freaks out when their child is "behind" developmentally, especially now with the glories/horrors of the internet to instill it even more in us that every other mom has a child-genius, who is saying "mama" and gesturing at their Giver of Life at 6 months old. Sidenote: Impossible. Sidenote: can you tell how frustrated I am with the Moms of Social Media lately?

Not that Harrison is really showing a lack of brain function, since he was ahead of the game at walking and motor skills, and the rumor is that boys tend to develop language more slowly than girls. Even so, there are Internet sources and blogs that have 15-month old children getting evaluated by speech therapists. This is a frightening fact. Even Harrison's pediatrician said at his 1-year well visit that it was perfectly normal for him not to be making consonant sounds, or showing any signs of speech. That made me feel a lot better... until she said that at his next well check-up, if he hasn't progressed, they might need to look more into it. And a month later, we are still at NOTHING.

Being the follower-mom that I am, I consulted my friend, who is a Speech Pathologist, about Harrison's status. While she assured me, as did the pediatrician, as well as my mom, that Harrison is fine and his speech will come in time, I am still having a minor freak out. Because if there's anything you need to know about moms, it's that we are bound to freak out about our children on some issues (some moms more than others).

I have conversations with my bear... Does that count?

The moral of this story is that Harrison needs to talk soon, for all of our sakes. I can tell he gets frustrated when he wants something and can't convey it, and I need a break from the crazy thoughts that float around my head like, "What if Harrison needs speech therapy?", or better yet, "What if Harrison is deaf in one ear and can't hear us talking, which in turn is preventing him from learning to talk himself?!?!" You get the picture. I'm a freak.

joke's on you. 

In life, are you a leader or a follower?

Recollections of Lactation

The weaning has begun. Any male readers might want to skip this post.

So basically, it's been a pretty good run with breastfeeding. We got off to a rough start, where Harrison decided he wouldn't latch at the hospital until the very last second. At which point, they shoved us out of that place, and off we were with hardly any guidance or success.

However, we made it on our own, with the help of a nipple shield for 4 months. It was fun when I would lose that thing and Harrison would be screaming for milk, yet would not latch without it, and the closest store that sold them was 35 minutes away, and I would be crying that he was crying. Good times.

We've come so far

Once the era of the nipple shield was over, we had a pretty smooth run, until we hit the era of the biting. This was about a month ago, coinciding with the arrival of his two front teeth, so he obviously felt that he needed to bite down on anything and everything. Don't worry though, he only drew blood once, and that injury only bled for a couple days. It's fine, I'm over it. (Sarcasm... will never be over that). The sight of my pumped breastmilk with a pinkish tint from the blood, is one I will never get out of my head.

And throughout all this hardship, was the most terrible hardship of them all: when Harrison decided he was too good for a bottle. Straight from the source, only. This was quite literally like being handcuffed to my child. I couldn't leave him without the fear of him going hungry, and when I did leave, the fear of him going hungry consumed my every thought.

Psh.. I'll eat anything. I'm an angel

With all this complaining I'm doing, you would think I would be 100% ready to be done nursing. In some ways, I am, but in others I'm not. For one, I complain about being starved at all times and never being able to feel satiated, yet I'm sure as hell going to miss the calorie burning. Exercise is no friend of mine, so I have a feeling that once my nursing career is over (for now anyway), and I might be forced to work out more than once every 3 months, I'll miss BFing, a lot.

I'll also miss the closeness. As you know, Harrison hates being touched. Not just by strangers, by everyone, including his dear mother. I can't even rub his little head without him immediately grabbing my arm and forcibly taking it off his head. He's stronger than he looks. So, nursing is my only chance to cuddle/be close to him, and let's face it... I am a mush about the cuddling so I will be a little depressed that it will be gone from my life.

Despite the parts of BFing that I will miss, the things I gain definitely outweigh. One word: Caffeine.  Being able to consume as much caffeine I desire for the first time in like 21 months is extremely exciting.

Also, to be able to fit into all of my old bras is basically going to be like being freed from shackles. Now, I'm on a rotation of three bras. Let me rephrase that for you, for 11 months, I've been on a rotation of 3 bras. I'm complaining about this as if I didn't have a single penny to put towards purchasing more bras, but I could never find the same ones I have, and I was afraid of change. Listen, nursing is an uncomfortable activity and finding the right bra is essential. First world problems, I think.

I also can't wait for... and pardon me sounding like an alcoholic here.. to consume the occasional 5pm happy hour beverage. I usually wait til after Harrison's last nursing of the day, or until after I had pumped, to have a drink, but soon, I can just have one whenever I damn well please.

I am trying to keep my outlook about the end of BFing positive, and not dwell on the things I will miss. Who would have thought I would have turned into one of those addicted-to-breastfeeding crazies?

Please someone, save me from the crazy lady!

 In any case, I need to focus on the here and now, and that is the weaning process. The soreness to come is paralyzing me with terror.