Oh, you still breastfeed?

Yeah, I do, and plan to continue as long as I can. I am often surprised, and I don't know why, when people ask me this question. The moment you become pregnant you are on everyone's radar for unsolicited advice. Prenatal nutrition, type of birth, what type of shoes you wear, what type of job you have. Everyone has an opinion. Then when your baby is actually here, it only gets worse. All of a sudden your breasts are the hot topic among strangers. "Do you breastfeed? Oh, good for you." I feel like I got an A on my report card or something getting that kind of congrats. At no other point in my life did random ladies ask me about my bits. The congrats only last for the first three months or so, and then the questions change to "Is he on formula yet? Well that's why he doesn't sleep you know." I know plenty of formula fed babies that ruin their parents dreams of ever sleeping again.

I think my biggest surprise about the "do you still breastfeed" question, is that my son is 7 months old. Now if I had an eight year old hanging from my breast while waiting at the bus stop, I can see why one may be curious. But even if that was the case, it's our choice. The global average age of weening from the breast is 4 years, and the World Health Organization recommends that babies be breastfed until at least two years old.

It's humorous when I hear people saying that breastfeeding is so inconvenient, and they are so surprised I have done it for so long. Yet I have never had to sterilize my breasts, measure how much I am giving him, or worry about how much breast milk to pack for a trip. I believe there is a time and a place for formula, and if you have not been able to breastfeed, or choose formula because that works for your family, then by all means use it. But please do not look at me like I am the oddity because I am breastfeeding him at 7 months. And yes, I still breastfeed while he's teething. It only took one nip for him to learn that if he wants to keep enjoying the booby snacks, there will be none of that.

The S word

None of us are getting enough of it, and those who say they do are lying. It disappears from your life about the same time your feet do in pregnancy, and you hope and pray it will return to your life one day. You daydream about it, wonder daily when you will get it again, and compete with your parent friends to see who is getting less of it. Clearly I am talking about sleep, so get your mind out of the gutter. If you are able to squeeze the other S word into your new life with baby, kudos to you.

Sleep is always not far from my thoughts, and every night when I fall asleep I say a little prayer to Mason asking him to sleep one hour longer, not wake at 5:30, not poop himself awake, etc. I am now also blessed with the bladder the size of a marble, and the thirst of an elephant.

Last night Tyler and I were doing our ninja stealth dance into bed when Ma$e dawg decided to wake up. This dance takes place nightly, as when sharing a bedroom with a baby you are always trying to be more quiet than your partner. That way you can point and scowl at them for causing the baby to rustle. At least that's how it rolls here.

So when the baby woke up last night at 9:30, we were caught a little off guard. He will usually shimmy shake a bit, but not wake. So here we are, me crouched behind his change table trying to change into my pj's, and Tyler hiding under the covers pretending to sleep. Who's in charge here? I then slink into bed hoping he won't notice me. Hoping the child on hands and knees screaming bloody murder while making direct eye contact with me will not notice me. Now I don't know if you've tried crying really loud and having your eyes wide open, but it is a real challenge, and he has mastered it. We tried ignoring him, but again, loud baby, 4 feet away does not go ignored for long. So he won the battle, got a boob, and all was silent again. All except for my mind and bladder. Those are always running on overdrive. This house can't come soon enough!

Baby go Boom

I guess I have been lucky to make it seven months without injury to my kid. He has been in 2 car accidents in his short life, but was fine health wise (they took his license away though). So when we have 2 head injuries in 2 days, I feel like a total ass.

On our way to a coffee date with our friends Marie and Carson we took tumble number one. I say we, as we were both involved in this one.

Marie is a dear friend who I met in prenatal class. We got fat together and have a similar view on parenting which is delightful. She is a funny woman who doesn't judge me when I tell her I pinched Mason and swore at him for not sleeping. She listens and sympathizes when I bitch about life with a baby, but also reminds me about all the awesome stuff. It's great to have someone like her around. Our kids are a week apart in age, so they tend to reach milestones around the same time, which is good and bad. We share the Baby Mama Drama.

So on our way to coffee time, walking down the massive hill near our apartment I did a header on a patch of ice and fell to my knees. Masonite was in his carrier on me, and came for the ride, hitting the back of his head on the sidewalk. I'm not sure how severe this blow was, as he had on his toque and 3 hoods, but he screamed like I had ripped his toe nails out. I also started crying, and called my husband to see what to do. He reminded me that he was also new to the parenting thing, and had no idea. I watched for signs of concussion, and we continued onto our play date, everyone feeling fine.

The following day, while packing up some clothes in preparation for the move (just the mention of the move makes me light headed) he decided to work on his moves by rolling off our king sized bed onto the floor. He made sure to make a pit stop with his head on the giant rubbermaid on the way to his destination. Now I know at this point you are thinking a lot of things like "watch your damn kid", "why is a seven month old alone on the bed", etc, and believe me, I thought it too. Truth be told, I was 4 feet away from him, and his quick moves took place while I was reaching for a shirt in the closet. He is fine, I'm pretty sure I was more damaged by the fall. I know it's early in the year, but keep me in mind when the nominations for Mom of the Year come out.

Moving with Baby

As if moving weren't stressful enough, throw a 7 month old in the mix and it's a whole new level of mind bending.
We are taking possession of our first home on March 8, and the countdown is on. We are really welcoming this change, as we are and have been living in a one bedroom apartment with Mason since he joined the fam. It wasn't so hard at first, as I would have had him in the bedroom with us anyway for the first few months. But now this kid has an agenda of his own, and it really interferes with my sleeping. How rude is that? Let him live rent free, doesn't have to do any chores, gets whatever he wants, and thinks 5:30am is a good time to start rocking out 4 feet from my bed.
It was also so much easier when he was a little lump, as little lumps don't come with a lot of stuff. His favorite things in life were my breasts, and they were already residing here, so they only took up a little more space than usual. We made pleas with family and friends to hold off on all the toys and everything else that comes with baby until we moved. But Baby's first Christmas plus Grandparents first Christmas with a baby (I am an only child) equals a house full of toys, books, play mats, blankets, and so on. I now understand why whenever Auntie Tif showed up with another toy for my nieces and nephews, parents would give me stink eye.
So now not only do we have to move all our stuff, but his giant collection of things that have a sole purpose of collecting drool.
The moving is not even what's causing the sleepless nights, it's the renovations we are trying to complete pre-move, and the concern about where and who I am going to donate this baby to. My biggest concern is not how our house is going to look (although that is probably number 2 or three on the list) but how I am going to keep Ma$e on a regular schedule.
Gonna try and live in the moment (not good at that) and not stress too much about the future (professional at that). I'm sure everything will work out, and a few more sleepless nights will only get me closer to that Scout Badge I am going for.

Weight Watchin'

Like most mom's, there comes a time post baby when you wonder "Where did my body go, and how will I ever find it again?" For me that time started about 2 seconds after delivery, and still plagues my thoughts daily. I don't think I am a superficial or vain person, but when your bits have been stretched all over town, you kinda want to get them back in one area.
This is posing to be an issue for me, mostly because I am potentially the least motivated person in this city. I am really good at starting things, and equally skilled at quitting them when they become to hard or something new and exciting catches my eye (yes, precisely like a small child). So according to my track record, this blog will last about another 2 days.
I have now for 2 weeks been doing Weight Watchers online, and was super diligent for the first week, and now am starting to slip. A little less tracking, a little more snacking. During the first week I was also really good at working out a few times a week, which has also gone the way of the dodo bird. I keep telling myself that if I was trying to lose with someone I would do better. Have someone to be accountable to. It's also the competitive side of me, hoping to beat you at the "race" to lose weight and be in shape. Really healthy mentality, why aren't people lining up to lose weight with me?
I have about 10 pounds to go to get back to my pre-Mason weight, and have a very low fat, low cal dinner of spaghetti, garlic cheese bread and Cesar salad planned for tonight. How can I go wrong?

Advice Junkie

I am the queen of advice. Getting and giving. I will seek out information whether it be online, in books, or from friends or family. I will listen to whatever anyone has to tell me, especially if it's about child rearing. This has come to bite me in the ass several times.

Take sleep habits for example. When Mason started having poor sleep (and when I say started, I mean never stopped) instead of looking to my doctor or reading a book, I read 4. 4 books, all very different from the last, and all working against me. One says let him cry, never let him cry, pick him up, leave him alone. . . So with all this floating around in there, I bombarded myself with info, and questioned everything I had read, done, believed. I asked mommy friends, supportive family members, randoms on the street, and dug myself deeper into the hole of mixed messages. Eventually we found a solution that made sense for us (he still doesn't sleep through the night, so hold the fan mail) and it seems like an eternity ago (keep in mind he's 6 1/2 months old).

Now that I have gone through that, I have deemed myself an expert and will gladly share my knowledge with anyone that will listen. I try not to be "that gal" that says something that the listener will smile and nod at, then walk away shaking their head. We have all been in that conversation, and it's not fun to be on the receiving end. But I do want to share the knowledge, mistakes, and lessons I have learned with others. Fortunately for me, most of the people I am talking to do want to listen or are asking me because I am really good at pretending I have it together. Betcha didn't know motherhood turns you into one heck of an actress, among other things