The Naked Truth

When I was 10, I was at a friends house.  We were in the basement playroom and I had to use the bathroom.  She told me it was upstairs and gave me directions past the kitchen.  As I entered the kitchen, her dad was standing, butt naked, in front of the sink.  He looked up, made eye contact with me then continued washing the dishes.  I was mortified.  Shocked, really.  I had no idea that people (or parents, I should say) stood around naked like that.  It was not something that happened in my family.  For a while, I thought all parents wandered around naked and it was just my parents that didn't.  He seemed so comfortable.  Stark naked knowing that there was a bunch of 10 year-old neighbor girls in the basement.  Like it was just a totally normal family activity similar to dinner around the kitchen table.  It took a while for me to realize that it was her family, not mine, that was out of the norm.  That not everyone was so comfortable being naked, mid-day, doing chores, while your children played in the basement.

Wyatt loves being naked.  He has naked time for at least an hour after every bath.  I think this is entirely acceptable.  I want him to be comfortable with himself.  I want him to know that his body is a work of art and nothing to be ashamed about or feel obligated to cover up.  Obviously, there is a time and place to his nakedness but I am sure he will learn this with age.  We were naked a lot as kids and I don't think it did us much harm.  The best part is when he was at the doctor today and while the doctor was examining his neither regions Wyatt proclaimed "The doctor is checking out my penis!"  Because that is what he calls it.  Because he is naked a lot and potty trained and when he's playing with it, I tell it like it is.

I have always been very comfortable with my body.  I am not a nudist or anything but I enjoy my naked time just as the next girl.  I don't wander around the house naked while other members of my family are home.  But I also think it is a safe assumption to say that my entire family has seen my butt and while breast feeding, I would have to say my boobs as well.  I try my best not to be naked in front of Wyatt but its inevitable.  Every once and a while he will see me getting dressed or getting into the shower or going to get something out of the laundry.  But he doesn't even blink an eye.  Doesn't seem to even notice.  I guess he accepts my nakedness just as his own.

So, while we were camping, I had to take Wyatt into the shower with me. This has happened a few times before but I try not to make it a habit.  I don't really think its a big deal.  He was doing great and then mid-shower he politely asks "Momma, where is your penis?"  I diverted the question which I don't normally do.  He caught me off guard and tried not to be utterly shocked.  It got me thinking how old is too old for him to see me naked?  I thought around 5 but now I am second guessing myself.  I don't want to be like the family I mentioned above but I also don't want to rule out nudity all together.  I think that nudity at home, when handled in a respectful, matter of fact way, is perfectly normal. I want him to be comfortable being naked and knowing that I am comfortable being naked will enforce that.  But when do the uncomfortable questions start?  Or do I just tell it like it is?  How long can I ignore his questions?

25 Things - Cause Everyone is Doing It

So, this Facebook thing is taking over my life and I have finally succumbed.  I was going to switch it up a little and write 25 things that I know and love about Lizzy but decided that the public humiliation might send her over the top.   So, in an attempt to compromise, I will do every other.  I'll take the odds and give Lizzy the evens. Lizzy, you can thank me later for being so generous.  

1 - I am, perhaps, thee worst speller on the planet.  I have to spell-check every blog about 12 times before I am confident enough to post and even then there are still mistakes.  I lost my 3rd grade spelling bee to "Window" and it wasn't until about 5th grade that I learned how to spell "always".  My friend Nicole finally corrected me after I had been signing my notes "Love all ways" for all my life. 

2 - Lizzy has an array of fuzzy, cartoon print, oversized, static cling pajama pants that she wears so much they are form fitted to her body.  I think she could wear a different pair every day for 6 months and not run out.  I don't know why this annoys me other then sometimes I feel like I live with MC Hammer.

3 - I am a huge fan of old fashion mail.  When I had more time on my hands, I used to try to send letters to my friends, actual hand written letters.  I like thinking about the person receiving the letter; a look of surprise on their face when reading the return address.  Then sitting and holding a piece of paper that was once physically in my hands.  I wish I had time to do that more often.

4 - Lizzy did not know how to flush the toilet until she was 16, literally.  Sometimes I think it was out of laziness but other times I think she was secretly afraid that the toilet was going to eat her if she remained in the bathroom while the flush happened.

5 - I have this weird obsession with zit popping and nose picking.  I know its gross but I can't help myself.  I try to blame my nose picking on my nose ring but my family has learned otherwise.  If I see a zit, even if it is on some other face, I really have a greatest overwhelming urge to pop it.  Usually I have to look away or else I might do it.

6 - Whenever I need a good pick-me-up I watch old home videos of Lizzy.  My favorites include potty training where she sticks her face in the potty, looks up holding her nose and says "ewwww".  Then there is the stirring rendition of the Lion King all the lyrics having a 2 year old spin.  For example, "Can't you feel the love tonight, tonight" and "I'm gonna be a mighty king that people can see before" and "It's the Circle of the night".  Seriously, I am laughing just thinking about it.

7 - We played manhunt as kids around our neighborhood, maybe about 10 or so of us.  I loved manhunt but was terrified of the dark.  I always hid within sight lines of my house and a light unless I was with someone else.  Sometimes I wonder if when Wyatt comes into my room because there is a monster under his bed will I respond with "Shit Monsters! Lock the door!" 

8 - Us three girls tend to do a lot of physical fighting which is mostly directed at Lizzy because she is the littlest.  Not to actually hurt one another but more as a way to pass time or to show affection.  However, most of the time I do it because Lizzy is the clumsiest, most awkward, entirely spastic person I have ever met.  One quick lunge and guaranteed she is on the floor, a puddle of limbs.

9 -  I save everything but hate clutter, the living oxymoron.  I have every college paper that Hayley wrote for, every program for the shows I was involved in, every note Kari passed me, and every birthday card my mother wrote me.  However, I hate clutter and will throw out everything that is unnecessary.  I need everything to have a place, a box, a drawer, a shelf.  All my surfaces need to be object free, books in height order, and pens separated from pencils.

10 - Lizzy insists on watching mind numbing shows like Paris Hilton's New Best Friend and that crazy Parental Control dating show.  Channel surfing is one thing but she actually DVR's them.  Her one redeeming TV watching habit is she also DVR's the The Office.  So, I guess she is forgiven. 

11 - I rub my feet together when I am going to sleep.  When I sleep with someone else, I put my feet as far away from the other person as possible so they won't know.  I always thought I was being every inconspicuous until recently when Eric told me he has know about my feet rubbing for years.  Funny thing is my mom does it and Wyatt seems to be doing it too.

12 - We have this spindly apple tree in our backyard with branches low enough to climb.  There is this one spot that intersects perfectly to make a little seat.  Lizzy used to take one of our couch cushions and sit in the "Y", reading, singing, playing with dolls.  She would stay up there for hours, crazy tree hugger. 

13 - Rebecca and I wrote a nasty letter to our cousin Emily when I was 7.  I don't remember what the quarell was about.  After depositing the letter in their mailbox, we ran back home and hid.  Michael was down a few minutes later, yelling at us for being mean and defending his sisters honor.  I watched him from the upstairs window pace around our house, very, very upset.  I regret that letter to this day even though I can't remember what is written.  This incident was a primary reason that I didn't want to have a girl.  I don't think I could handle mean little girls.

14 - Lizzy is convinced that her cat, Delilah, is a kind, gentle, lovable feline.  In reality, the cat is EVIL!!! (with three exclamation points!!!).  She tortures our other cat, who is deaf, clawing at her while hiding around the corner.  Delilah is a wild beast that bites anyone she comes in contact with and ritually run around the house like a 5 year old with a nasty pixie stick/coke habit.  Clearly, Delilah has Lizzy brain washed.  Lizzy named Delilah after the song by the Plain White Tees.  However, I am reminded of a Samson and Delilah bit done in a Vegas show with leather thongs and chains.  I think mine is more appropriate.

15 - I am utterly obsessed with jigsaw puzzles and have been my entire life.  I was doing 500 piece puzzles when I was 5 which my mom says is very impressive.  I did a ton of puzzles when I lived in SC.  There is sometimes tremendously satisfying about every piece having a place.  When I get a piece in I rub my finger over the connection like I'm making a wish.  I do it every time.

16 - Lizzy told me once that she wants her wedding song to be "Cash, Money, Hoes".  I haven't decided if she was kidding or not.

17 - I have a weird food texture issue.  I hate raw tomatoes but will eat tomato sauce without the chunks and ketchup.  I also hate bananas, baked apples as in pie, cottage cheese, and hot dogs.  I am not sure how the hot dogs play into the texture issues but I still can't eat them. 

18 - The other night, Lizzy was trying to convince Rebecca and I that she had really huge arm muscles.  She would flex her arm then try to peck us like a rabid chicken.  When making this ridiculous motion she would yell, "Watch out, the python is going to get you."  If this wasn't enough to send me on the floor in a fit of laughter, when she did make contact it was like getting bit by a mosquito.

19 - Since I stopped breast feeding, my boobs have shrunk.  I have always been a C, then was up to a D cup and now am down to a B.  This makes me very depressed basically because none of my shirts seem to fit right anymore.  I thought you have what you have.  Evidently, along with every other aspect of my body after pregnancy, my boobs are no longer my own.  I hope they grow back.  I must, I must, I must increase my bust.

20 -  To this day, Lizzy is still unable to pronounce our Aunt Carolyn's name.  She says something like Aunt Cal-o-Rine.  We have tried to correct her several times but she is unable to fix it.  

21 - Every Thanksgiving, Rebecca, Emily, Michael and I put on concerts for the family.  We would work all day on the dance and song routine then perform for the family after dinner.  Basically, Michael and I wanted to showcase our talents and Rebecca and Emily were always the back up.  Michael and I were Simba and Nala, Rebecca and Emily were Timon and Pumba.  Ringo and George to our Paul and John.  Kind of explains a lot.

22 - Lizzy is very musically inclined.  When she first started taking showers, maybe around 6 or 7, she would sing.  Loudly.  About blackbirds.  We used to crowd around the bathroom door to listen, like our own private concert.

23 -  I really would like to be good at scrap-booking.  I think it is something I would really enjoy but can't seem to muster up the time, supplies, or patience.  I have done some, complete with artifacts from trips, notes, etc but they are in photo books with crusty sticky pages.  I want to go to the craft store and spend ridiculous amounts of money on that fancy paper and puffy stickers.  Every time I am in Target I look at their scrap-booking isle but I always get too intimidated.  I think I would be really good at it if I took the plunge.  

24 - Lizzy has this weird thing with vanity license plates.  When she sees them she says she creates the entire life story of the person driving and becomes intriqued by the person.  When she sees the car driving around town she thinks, "Oh there's the BANK4U Banker who is cheating on his wife with her cousin with a gambling problem and 11 toes.  I wonder what he is getting at Stop n' Shop?"  She said at one point she had a dream and her license plate was XTRASML.  I wonder what that says about her.

25 -  For a 10 year old who was really, really pissed off when Lizzy was born and then I ignored her for much of her life I sure know a lot about Lizzy.

Begin the Barren

Inexplicably, I am drying up. I have been worried for a while that my supply has been less than supple. About a month ago, I started noticing that I was pumping skimy bottles or it took me much longer to get the coveted 6 ounces. I made a conscience effort to allow Wyatt nurse longer hoping that it would up supply but it seems to have not worked. Last night, I resorted to a bottle when Wyatt cried after nursing, my shortage fears confirmed.

I have two possible suspects in the mystery of the drought. First, I have been under a lot of stress lately mostly regarding Lizzy but also in conjunction with Wyatts Christening and work. It seems that when I am under stress I have a hard time letting down. Letting down, for those that don't know, feels like pins and needles in your nipple and is responsible for the release of milk. Usually, I will pump for a bit (or Wyatt will do his thing) for a minute then I will let down and about 4 ounces will shoot out like a faucet. Lately, my mind will be all over the place and I can't let down. No matter how much I think about my baby (which is what the books tell you to do). On stressful days I am lucky if I get 3 ounces. The other possible culprit is my eating habits. You need a ridiculous amount of calories and fluids to maintain milk production. I have never been a big meal eater and am a constant snacker. When I was pregnant and the first few months of breast feeding, I was hungry all the time. Since going back to work, my appetite has waned. It is hard for me to pack on the carbs like I once did. I have been loosing weight which I also attribute to stress. I try to drink lots of milkshakes but somedays I can't handle it.

I am on the fence about this whole situation. I am a perfectionist and wanted to breast feed for the recommended one year although knew I probably wouldn't make it. He is almost 7 months so I did a pretty good job. I find it easier to breast feed. Its convenient and inexpensive. I don't have to worry about packing bottles or heating water. I can grab Wyatt and go. Midnight feedings go quickly. I feel like I have become a walking ad for pro breast feeders. I love feeling close to my baby and love being able to provide something so special.

On the other hand, I have been growing tried of pumping at work. I would like to be able to wear a normal bra without nursing pads. There is nothing sexier than leakage pads sticking out of a bra. Seriously, that is my life. Nuts are a staple in my diet and I have had to swear off of them because when I eat them Wyatt pukes buckets. I would like to have more than one drink without feeling like I am feeding him contaminated milk. And DAMN that new tooth. He bit me so hard last night I was bleeding and bled today again while pumping. I saw stars it hurt so much and now I am terrified that he is going to do it again.

However, the thought of drying up has got me feeling surprisingly empty. I have gotten used to having boobs with a purpose. They will go back to plain, push 'em up, non-functioning boobs. I think I also feel a touch of guilt that I didn't make it as long as I wanted to. I know that I am a success story, 7 months is nothing to feel guilty over. I guess I wanted it to be my choice to stop not my body's. Thankfully, I have a freezer full of milk that should last for a little bit longer and as long as the bitting stops I will forge ahead and supplement as necessary.

Princess Tickle Wave

Tuesday was one of the longest, most adrenaline filled days I have experienced in a while. I had a blast doing it but don't think I would be able to hack it everyday. The long hours, unpredictability, and the potential of sudden chaos could wear on a person. I will bring Wyatt on more auditions but I would want to space out his days of shooting.

The shoot was in a residential area in suburban NJ. Upon finding the street, we were met with several large white trucks lining the road, two policemen, two RV campers, lights, director chairs, and people running in every direction. "Well, that's not intimidating" were Rebeccas comforting words of wisdom that motivated me to keep on driving. We circled the block a few times, I took a few deep breaths, and proceeded to join the pandemonium.

I believe there is some saying about never working with animals and children. This commercial contained both. The premise of our vignette was mom, daughter, and infant son going for a walk. They reach home and their family cat is in the picture window, waving at them. Little girl waves back. Mom smiles at the overwhelming love for her family pet. Cut to the kitchen. Little girl and cat sit on stools waiting to be fed by mom who clearly loves to shop at Walmart because of their amazing prices on her favorite premium pet food.

Once they finally needed me on set the director took one look at me with all of my piercings and said "Get rid of all of those. We want a mother not a gypsy." The little girl, who was playing my daughter, told her mother to leave saying "Mom, I need to work now." Meanwhile, the entire scene was taking forever because they were trying to get the 4 year old to look around the bag of cat food while trying to keep a cat on a stool and looking at the bag. Talk about tall order. The cat wanted nothing to do with anything. The poor animal wranglers were sweating more then any of the Olympians. The 4 year old was more interested in licking peanut butter out of the jar while no one was looking or grabbing the cat when the wranglers weren't looking. Every time she got the peanut butter it would get all over her face and then hair and makeup would have to be called in. All I had to do was endure, move the cat bag in and out of the shot, and do my best to follow orders which sounded a lot like this "Bowl, bag. More naturally, show the product. Bowl. Bowl. I said natural. Bowl. Reset. Bowl. We can't see the label. NATURAL!!"

Several people came up to us and told us that Wyatt was the most well behaved person on set. He was amazing and obviously made for this business. He was chilling the entire time with his favorite Aunt B and Lizzy. The scene that he was in he had to sit in a stroller, looking adorable, while the little girl waved at the cat. The girl was way past her nap time by the time we got to that scene and she was not waving. Her mother was trying to bribe her with barbies but nothing was working. Most of the time she was throwing her hands around rather than waving. Her mom described the wave that she should do as the Princess Tickle Wave. I guess that means you have to wave like a Princess being tickled or pretend your tickling a Princess while waving. I am not really sure. As all of this craziness is going on with people yelling "Do the Princess Tickled Wave!" I happened to look down and Wyatt is waving. Kid you not, the child is a genius. Everyone on set was impressed. Boys got skill.

Most of the morning had a hurry up and wait quality but classic Kate making the most out of every moment I worked on honing my public nursing skills. I was in full costume and needed on set any moment but Wyatt had other plans. We had set up a blanket, picnic style, on the side of the road to be near everything but far enough away to keep the noise level down. I took off part of my costume and nursed him on the street, cars and all. The police man walked over to us at one point and I thought he was going to arrest me. Seriously. Then, we were nursing later on the porch while they set up another scene inside. I guess they needed me. The PA runs out and sees what I am doing but doesn't want to report over the walkies because he thinks it will make everyone look. All I hear is my name being called in every direction. Finally, the director runs out looking like he is about to pitch a fit, sees us, doesn't say anything, and walks back inside. When I made it onto set, in about two minutes, they were all apologies. I guess they don't have many nursing moms on set.

The entire commercial is 30 seconds. Wyatt will probably be in about 2 seconds, my butt about 2 seconds, my hands 3 seconds, and my face about 1 second. Yet, we were there for a good 9 hours. I am not sure when it is going to air. Hopefully, I will get a copy of our big debut to show at family gatherings when we air the episode of Blues Clues that Lizzy and I were in ages ago. All in all it was a memorable day!

Bullet Friday

I am having a bullet list type of day. You know the days when your mind is jumping from one topic to another like a pogo stick. I can't seem to get anything done but yet trying to get twelve hundred things checked off my to-do-list at the same time. I have had several days like this recently. What gives? Here are some of my random thoughts:

Did you hear about that crazy waterspout that happened in Oyster Bay Harbor? Well, Lizzy works right near there and took pictures of it from her phone. They are much better than the Newsday ones in my opinion. Crazy stuff, global warming. If I had the money I would switch everything I own to organic. Save the environment in my own way. Right now I am working on purging my household of conventional cleaners. I am terrified of tornadoes. Maybe I watched my witch-less Wizard of Oz too much as a kid. My mom edited our movie so that there was no Wicked Witch. She thought it was too scary. When I finally watched the full version all I could think was "Wow! This movie does have a plot!!" If I saw that waterspout I probably would have shit my pants. Literally. Lizzy said that everyone was running out to watch it. Hello, stupid, you should be running in the other direction! At least no one was hurt and Lizzy walked away with some awesome pictures.

On the last two conversations with Terry he said he is having chest pains. What does that mean exactly? I told him he needs to go to the doctor but he insists that he wants to get in his flying hours. If he goes to the doctor they will pull him off his flights. Men should affix themselves with labels stating "Made with Testosterone, Will be Idiotic." Seriously, it is getting me worried.

I am so excited that it is Friday. Since the end of June, I have taken at least one day off a week from work. This was the first full week I have worked (minus a few hours off on Thursday) and it is taking its toll. I am anticipating quiting in September so I am trying to use all of my vacation days. I asked if I could work part-time or from home but they said no. So, my compromise was to use my leave one day a week until I quit. My silent "Stick it to the Man!"

I have Kari's bachelorette party this weekend. I haven't been out in the city in a long time and it might be the making of a pump and dump night. Although, I read that alcohol leaves your breast milk just as it leaves your blood stream. Interesting concept but I am not sure I believe it. The Internet is an amazing search tool but not always factual. I won't get drunk that's for sure but maybe two drinks over five hours are in my future. Watch out, I'm living on the edge people! The Olympics start tonight too. I am so excited for that. Yes, I'm a dork. The blue Swim Cube Stadium and the Bird's Nest are some of the most amazing pieces of architecture I have ever seen. I am thinking my sweet baby Wyatt, the Olympics, and Chinese food tonight.

Pink Positives

June 9th, 2008 - Wyatt is 4 months old today!! I have officially made it past my breast feeding goal. I wanted to make it to three months, God willing six. Breast feeding has gotten increasingly easy. I love not having to heat bottles in the middle of the night but what I love more is feeling needed, close, and warm to my son. If it wasn't creepy I would feed him until he's three. Instead, I am going to run for the hills once teeth appear. He has already bitten me one too many times to chance it.

June 9th, 2007 - I was in Rebecca's apartment in Astoria getting ready to go out for the night. Tucked in my overnight bag was the third in a series of pregnancy tests I had been taking. I was suppose to get my period at the end of May, inciting panic when I didn't, and full on terror around this time June. I was never late. The previous two pregnancy tests were positive. I had stopped drinking already but refused to acknowledge to myself that I was pregnant. It couldn't possibly be true. Utter disbelief is putting it mildly. Anyway, while getting ready I snuck off in the bathroom to take number three. Third times a charm, right? I wrapped the third pink plus sign in the CVS bag, threw it out in the kitchen, and returned to Rebeccas room to finish straightening my hair. It was like a bowling ball lodged itself in my esophagus. With four glasses of wine down, Rebecca was in rare form, chatting lively, bad mouthing men, and openly discussing her quarter life crisis. I remember staring at myself in the mirror thinking "You have to tell someone to make this a reality." I didn't even turn around mumbling "I kind of have a problem". Rebecca responded with "What? You're pregnant?" My silence told her the answer.

That is what started the long journey that lead us here. Once I digested the information myself, I slowly started telling family then friends. One by one. The process took me months. There was a lot of secret keeping, planning, fantasizing, and therapy. It was a hard time but one that I look back on with a kind of giddiness. In hindsight, I know that all the confusion, torment, and frustration led to something, someone amazing. It was all so very worth it.

Hunger like a Boob

I think it's a record how many times I have posted with boob in the title. It's a sick fascination with me. Now that I am allowed, more like tolerated, to talk about my boobs every other sentence is filled with breast references. Working boobs have nothing to do with sex boobs and they seriously have a life of there own. They are no longer part of my body. When you walk into our house be prepared to be greeted by 2 grandparents, 2 sisters, a new mom, a baby, and Bessie and Clara Bell the resident directors of milk services.

But I digress. True to all the pregnancy rumors, my life became defined by food. I loved that I was permitted by society to eat at all times. The people at Carvel knew me by name when I was 5 months. I was expecting to have a ton of pickle and ice cream cravings but that never happened (yes to ice cream, no to pickles). I never had to send family members on expeditions to the store at 3am (well maybe once when Dad had to get me raspberry sherbet, not strawberry, raspberry). In fact, I was never motivated to get out of bed for food. I had more helpings but stayed with three meals a day and a snack before bed.

Pregnancy did nothing to prepare me for breastfeeding hungry. My boobs are hungry ALL THE TIME!!! Pregnant hunger is I want a slice of pizza the size of my head and I want it now, get out of my way. Breast feeding hunger is opening the cabinet and devouring everything inside. It has no rhyme or reason. It is being famished. For anything. All the time. I rarely care what I am eating just as long as it is in my mouth. I clean plates on third helpings. I finish side dishes out of their serving bowls when everyone else is done. Lick the bowl after my nightly heap of ice cream. You wonder why our grocery bill has gone up to $250 a week. No, it is not the exorbitant price of groceries, its Kate the human garbage disposal who can methodically devour every bag of chips or cookies in the house in an hour. Yes, Mom, I am eating you out of house and home. No, its not the cats at 4am rummaging for a granola bar. Yes, Terry, I was the one the finished every single package of girl scout cookies that I had intended to send you. Yes, I am always the culprit.

It's astonishing and annoying. It would be one thing if I felt like eating something specific or had cravings. But no, I am not in the mood to eat anything. I want everything. Thankfully, I am still holding steady at 130lbs. Still have some pregnancy weight to lose but I am not complaining. I think that all the extra calories that I am eating are going straight to Wyatt because he is looking more and more like Spanky from the Little Rascals. (I believe he does have the hat and suspenders too). OK, well, surprise, surprise, I'm famished. Like haven't eaten in three months because the locusts ate our crops, malnourished, 'Please sir can I have some more', kid from Africa famished.

Boobie has a Boo-boo

My boob is broken. I woke up yesterday morning with a very tender and red right boob, with what I suspect to be a clogged milk duct. Surprisingly, its really painful. I even have a fever, which might be attributed to a sinus infection, although highly coincidental that the fever and clog happened on the same day. Every time my arm brushes against me, I wince. I even had to take my bra off. I haven't taken off my bra, besides to shower, since I gave birth. Rightfully so. Imagine carrying around 12 oz of liquid on your chest without support. I hear the chorus of "Do Your Boobs Hang Low" starting already.

Home remedies include nursing like crazy - check. Warm compresses - check. Hot showers - check. Massage - check. And, last but not least, get this, nursing on all fours. As in placing little Wy on pillows and essentially tea bagging my boob into his mouth. Let gravity do the work. I am very hesitant about this one. I'm afraid someone will catch me in the act and think I am a sexual deviant. Or my worst fears will be realized and I will officially be a cow. Not to mention the laughter they will hear in Japan.

I have decided to wait on that last one until I have exhausted all other options. This morning I tried pumping on hands and knees. No dice. I was really having trouble keeping still with blood rushing to my head and balancing with one hand. Can you imagine if I fell on him? God, how traumatizing!! For both of us. I hope the duct unclogs itself real quick. I don't want it to come to doggie style nursing. However, I don't know how much longer I can take this.

A side note: Wyatt loves me so much. He totally knew I wasn't feeling well and slept like a champ. He slept from 9:30-1:45, 2:15-5:00, and 5:30-7:45. Our best night yet!! Even with a fever. Maybe we are turning over a new leaf. I am trying not to get my hopes up.

Magic Boobs

I feel that there is a lot of pressure for new moms to breast feed but not enough resources to facilitate doing so. When I was at the hospital a nurse watched him latch on once, said we were doing fine, and offered no further advice. My Mom and copious reading offered the most help to me. Although all the reading material in the world can't describe what the correct latch feels like. I did attend a few classes while I was pregnant but I forgot almost everything that I learned. I didn't think it would be very difficult but ultimately questions do come up. Is he getting enough? Is is suppose to feel like this? What is let down? Is he latched on correctly? Am I producing too much or too little? What am I eating that is making him fart so much?

I am ecstatic that I only had a few set backs. I am enjoying breast feeding. I really wanted to breast feed because of all the amazingly positive research. 400 additional nutrients, kids proven to have higher IQ's, the bonding, reduced rate of obesity, and the convenience. I mean seriously why wouldn't I. However, I know that sometimes it just doesn't work out, for whatever reasons. I would have felt like I failed him in some way. That maybe I didn't try hard enough. That I wasn't capable of providing the absolute best for him. I am so grateful that we both caught on, in fact, it is going so well he is beefing up like he is on steroids. He has gained 3 pounds and grew 3 inches since birth, with absolutely no formula supplementation. Can you believe that? I have a whole bunch of clothing to give away already.

My family always joked that instead of working for Habitat that I should go to Africa and breast feed babies. I am seriously thinking about it. I don't know how it happened but I am producing more milk then I thought was humanly possible. I am going to quit my job and sell milk on the black market. I could make a living off of it. Laugh all you want but seriously sometimes I have to wake Wyatt up because my nipples are about to shoot across the room I am so full. You think I am kidding but almost every time we nurse I shoot milk like a water fountain all over his face. Sometimes I get it on his forehead, sometimes his nose, the couch, the floor, nothing is safe. I have no control. If I pump, it takes about 10 minutes to get 4 oz. No wonder why he is gaining so much weight. I am telling you I have a career in breast milk. I have magic boobs providing for Wyatt and all of Africa!!

Bessie and Clara Bell

If the first hurdle of motherhood was having a non-medicated vaginal birth and second was breast feeding. It has been quite a learning experience for both of us. Everyone told me that the first week is the hardest; it gets easier, and stick with it. Well, it has been almost 11 days and it is still pretty tricky. However, it is oddly comforting for me. A feeling I never imagined or expected.

My milk came in the day after we came home from the hospital. I woke up with my boobs heavy like bowling balls. We sat down in our glider chair ready to try this whole milk thing out. My boob started dripping all over the place. We got into position and he gently put his hand up to me and a stream of milk shot him in the face. Seriously. There was milk everywhere. All down my shirt, in his face, all folded in his neck, everywhere. That is pretty much our routine although I am getting better at not getting it all over myself. Wyatt, not so much, he is a mess every time. I am proud of us though. He is catching on like a pro, I haven't given him any formula, and at his last dr's appointment he was almost 9 lbs. Thriving.

I am still getting used to whipping them out in public. Well, not public, but around my family, Terry, and his family. Most of the time I don't mind. I am feeding my son, sustaining a life. There is nothing embarrassing about that but sometimes it's slightly awkward. For the most part though, I really enjoy breast feeding. It is 20 minutes every 2 hours that I get to spend with my son, uninterrupted bonding time. I sing to him, talk to him, sometimes just sit and stare. Even at 3 in the morning I enjoy it, despite sore nipples, leaky breasts, and 25 lbs in my bra. I think we will stick with it. Its got to get easier.