Breastfeeding II (You know you're a nursing mama when..)

After the biggest response I have had so far to my blog following my last post about breastfeeding, I would like to continue!
Under the title "You know you're a nursing mama when.." I will share things I have learned and experienced through my two breastfeeding journeys. Again, not every journey is the same, but there are some universal truths. I would love for other mamas to comment and add to my list of their own experiences!

You know you're a nursing mama when:

-You can put that baby straight into what we call a "milk coma"
-A baby who is a complete stranger can have you letting down by crying in your vicinity
-You know what the phrase "letting down" means
-You have tried at least once to nurse a crying newborn in a bathroom stall. Just once.
-You have nursed and/or pumped in the most strangest places. Bathroom at Disney.. bathroom at your friend's wedding in your bridesmaids gown, on a NYC subway, front row at church... 
-You get extremely defensive when anyone mentions giving that baby a bottle
-Formula samples, coupons, and commercials can be irritating to you
-You have probably flashed more strangers (and people you know) than you care to admit.
-You know what it feels like to have two very large and painful rocks on your chest
-You have milk sprayed your baby in the face, and possibly your partner's
-You thought you would die when that baby with his new teeth bit right down and then laughed at your reaction
-Taking a romantic getaway is absolutely out of the question because you can't be away from your little one

-Taking a romantic anything is out of the question in fact.
-Your chest has never been bigger. Or more off limits. I mean it. Don't touch!
-Your new lingerie is nursing bras. Unfortunately they don't sell those at Victoria's Secret. 
-Two different sizes brings on a whole new meaning. By the way, don't try on bras in this condition.
-Your freezer is full of little plastic bags of milk. These are gold by the way. Pouring it down the sink is painful.
-You know what it's like to survive on very little sleep. You now have a new identity as a zombie.
-Nursing in public is both necessary and your right, but you still can't help looking over your shoulder, waiting for a dirty look.
-You never thought you would cherish feeding your baby as much as you do. Those times of snuggling close are precious times you'll never forget!


Now it's your turn! What would you have to add?

Blessings, 
Lynsey

Breastfeeding I (Not for the Faint of Heart)

Let me preface this post by issuing a warning to my father in love and brother (and anyone else squeamish about breastfeeding), that this is indeed about breastfeeding, which includes (my) breasts, FYI. Moving on.

I have been one of those mamas who have been blessed to have nursing come pretty easy for me and my little ones. We have good "breastfeeding relationships" (whatever that means), for which I am very thankful. It was never a question for me if I would choose to nurse my babies or not, my mom had nursed us and her mom nursed her babies too. It wasn't until I became a mother myself and asked my mom about how she nursed hers, I  found that she, who became a mother at a very young age in the 70s when it wasn't popular to nurse, had chosen to. I admire her for that, because I'm sure it was even harder to get support then that it is now. So for me, it was a natural choice because I knew from reading lots as a mama-to-be that is was the best thing for my baby.

I am an awe by the way the Lord designed breastfeeding. Have you ever thought about it? With amazing foresight, He created mamas to produce the best milk possible for her baby from her own body, and for it to be available as soon as baby is born. Baby is born with sucking reflex so is able to nurse immediately. Not only that, but the composition of milk and the detail with which breastfeeding happens has such complexity it's astounding. And because He is a God who loves us and fosters relationship, breastfeeding has amazing abilities to bond mama and baby together, over and over again. Wow what a gift!

All that said, not very unlike pregnancy, labor, and delivery, no one can quite prepare you for how difficult breastfeeding is. I guess it's one of those things that anything worth doing is hard? Because even though I read all the books and knew what to expect (when you're expecting), and even though you hear people say stupid things like "If you're doing it right, it won't hurt.". Okay, yeah. It does. At least in the beginning. Just think about it, a little mouth with a startlingly strong suck reflex going to town on your sore, just-delivered- a-baby nipples. How can that not hurt?! It's not all a bed of roses to be honest.

 I realize that not every mama has had the blessing of breastfeeding success that I have.
Mamas who desire with all their heart to nurse but can't for whatever reason. Mamas who don't produce enough milk and can't keep that nurse-around-the-clock baby full, mamas who have biological issues, mamas who suffer with infections continually, mamas who had a preemie and bravely pump to give that baby nourishment, mamas who have to work and be away from their babies, mamas who had to pump exclusively and finally couldn't do it anymore, mamas who were just too plain exhausted after birth and maybe suffered from postpartum depression. Mama, I see your pain. I know from stories firsthand that you feel like a failure. I know you feel that you are less than because you couldn't nurse. Hear me, it's not your fault! And I'm so sorry you did not get to experience it. I'm sure you were able to bond with your baby in other ways. And at the end of the day, you are a good mama because you did what was best for your little one.

Epic Publix Meltdown

J has had his fair share of meltdowns. Fortunately they're usually at home, with no spectators (or witnesses). However the one meltdown that went down in our history as the most epic occurred in Publix. Of course. We spend a lot of time there apparently. 

On this particular day J had not behaved in the store. And because of this, by the time it was time to checkout and he learned that he would not be getting his ritual free cookie from the bakery because of his behavior, he was ripe for a big one. There I am, pregnant with E, in the middle of unloading the groceries to be checked out, with a preschooler pitching the hugest fit of his life over a cookie. 
Screaming, crying, thrashing, you know what I'm talking about. 
I tried to ignore, I tried threatening, I tried getting on his level and reasoning. Ha! Silly mama. He only grew more upset. "I WANT MY COOKIEEEEEEEE!!"

Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, trying to hurry as fast as I could and get the heck out of there, trying to pretend that the whole store was not staring at this scene. Including the older woman checking out in front of me, and the cashier. Was it my imagination or were they casting judgmental looks?? I could almost read their minds: "Just give the kid a dang cookie!" They just stood there and watched. Come on ladies, haven't you ever had kids before?
I have never felt more embarrassed in my entire life. I knew my face must be flaming, and I was on the edge of exploding at my son and bursting into tears all at the same time. There was nothing I could do to escape it. 

And at that moment, a sweet angel appeared in the form of another mama, with some older children in tow. She said, "Are you okay mama? Anything I can help you with?" Nothing, unless you'd like to take my kid away for a while, is what I was thinking... 
"I've been there, don't worry, you're doing a good job, hang in there!" 
Wow! I thanked her and was able to address the other older, slightly more judgmental ladies, a little more boldly. Even though I didn't need to, I explained why my young son was pitching a fit and why I wasn't giving in to him. I knew I should be proud of that, but all it made me feel at the moment was shame.

We left Publix that day, both emotionally exhausted from the ordeal. He kept up his fit until long after we had gotten home. When I was able to later calm down and think about what had happened, I realized two very important things. 
First, although I felt like a failure that day, I wasn't. See I had two choices: Give in to my son's fit and give him what he wanted to keep him quiet and my embarrassment away, OR take the higher, harder road and stay strong so that he would learn an important lesson at his age- you aren't rewarded for bad behavior, and you cannot get what you want by throwing a fit. (We are till working on these lessons in fact)! 
Second, I was so thankful for the mama who took the time to encourage me and bless me in one of the hardest parenting moments. Her kindness gave me the confidence and (almost) cancelled out the other ladies' hurtful behavior. 

So fellow mamas, how will you react the next time you encounter another tired, stressed out, hands full, overwhelmed mama in the grocery store, or at the doctors office, or at the bank, or wherever? And instead of casting judgment or just saying nothing, maybe walk up and offer a helping hand. Or offer a word of encouragement. Because you know you have been there before! You will never know how much it will mean to her. Because we are all just doing our best aren't we? Trying our hardest not to screw up our kids and keep our sanity at the same time. Criticizing ourselves, and wallowing in guilt over this little thing or that. Lifting each other up instead of bringing each other down in the process will be a true test of our character. 

Wouldn't have it any other way (most days)
Blessings, 
Lynsey



Photos courtesy of yahoo images

The Mystery of "Uh-Uh!"

My little almost-two-year-old, E does not talk. Well mostly he doesn't. Sure he says "dada" and "mama" occasionally, and really likes to say "ball", even when referring to balloons. But other than that, he doesn't even say no! I'm not worried about this however. I know he's super smart and understands everything that's said to him. I also know that he's just really stubborn and doesn't talk because he simply doesn't want to.This child has an uncanny knack at talking without talking.He has a way of communicating to you exactly what he wants without saying an actual word.

He does this primarily by what I call the mystery of "uh-uh". You know, the in-your-throat, don't bother to say the word no, "uh-uh". E uses this word for everything. It can be used interchangeably to mean yes, no, I don't know, etc.
For example, "E, you ready to go to bed?" Uh-uh. 
"E, you want some applesauce?" Uh-uh. 
"E, where is your blankie and monkey?" Uh-uh. Bonus, shoulder shrug. 
"E, let's change your diaper." Uh-uh. 
"Ready to get out of the bath tub?"  Uh-uh.
"E, do you love mama?" Uh-uh. 

You can see how this can be very confusing and counterproductive.Because the uh-uh is also accompanied by the head shake. He apparently does not relish the thought of answering in the positive. What's really funny is when big brother J translates. "He said no, which really means yes, so he means yes mama." 

One day he will say actual words and shout no at me and I'll probably forget all about the mystery of uh-uh. But for now, this is our language.

Wouldn't want it any other way (most days)
Blessings, 
Lynsey

Back to School (Not So) Blues

Okay so I must be the only mama who is truly excited that it's almost school time. I keep seeing all these status updates.. "One more day until school starts, I'm gonna miss my baby sooo much! Soaking up the last day of summer before school, sad Mama, etc, etc."Are these updates designed specifically to shame me?! They might as well say "How can you not be depressed about your baby going to school and the fact that he will be away from you for three WHOLE hours for five WHOLE days a week??! Terrible mother."

I'm kidding I'm sure they're not, but still there's that mommy guilt.  You see, I love when school is in. The whole reason I send him to school is so we can be away from each other. Lord what would I do if I was homeschooling him? Wow I really do sound like a terrible mother..

Well it's true. Don't misunderstand me, my hubby and my babies are my life, in that order. They are one of the biggest purposes in my life. When I was young, I always wanted to be a mommy. And I knew before I was even married that I would  do whatever it took for me to stay home with my little ones and raise them myself. But Mama needs a little break and I'm sure J gets sick of me too! Absence makes the heart grow fonder, ya know.

School has been great for J. Gives him a structure, an outlet for his crazy boy energy. And he gets the chance to learn in a formal setting, and interact with kids his age. And do all those fun school things.
 Orientation was last week. He's not too keen on this new school thing. He meets his new teacher and blurts out, "I'm not having any fun!" Well there you have it. Hate to break it to you brother but you're still goin.

So we will pack his cute little backpack, and take him to his first day of school, and take all those pictures he hates me to take (I'm NOT smiling) , and I am sure that once I've dropped him off, I will miss him. Thankfully, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Now about getting the little one in school somewhere...

What about you? Like sending your little ones to school?
Wouldn't have it any other way (most days)
Blessings,
Lynsey

Sunscreen

There I am, fixing dinner, minding my own business. My first mistake was not checking on my weirdly quiet sour patch kid. I walked into the living room to check and see E squirting the bottle of sunscreen he had taken from the diaper bag into a colander he had taken from the kitchen. “No E!! No!!” He looked up at me innocently of course.  But then I looked around at the rest of the living room. “Ohh Noo E!” I can’t remember the exact words but I’m pretty sure I didn’t speak too lovingly to my little one year old. A quick survey of the room showed he had also blessed the couch, the coffee table, the rug on the floor, and the TV table with bright white SPF 50 Sunscreen.

Gee, E if you wanted to go to the beach so badly you should have just told me.

Do you know how incredibly hard it is to clean out sunscreen from pretty much anything??  Greasy, oily, mess. After little E was bathed and put to bed I started in on the bright whiteness. It spreads. I had to use Resolve on the couch. It was then I began to see the white cloth I was using start to turn brown. Eww!

Okay if you know me you know I am a bit of a clean freak. Okay a lot a bit of a clean freak. And now I can add to the list: filthy couch. See our couch is brown, and so you couldn’t see my greatest enemy(possibly a bit dramatic) lurking right there. Until now.  So now thanks to my wonderfully inquisitive child who has a penchant for finding things he can squirt out, (soap, shampoo, lotion, Comet, etc) I know I have filthy couches. And I’m not sure what I can do about it. Do you know what that does to a clean freak like me? PS: I would have posted pics but they looked strangely like a crime scene and I didn't want to creep people out.

So I owe it all to sunscreen. And my precious son of course. Love him. As he’s slamming his hands on my keyboard as we speak. Wouldn’t trade it for anything (most days!)

Blessings,

Lynsey

Money Probs

Money problems always stink no matter how you look at it. Unfortunately we need it to survive. Our money problems have definitely evolved since having children. First it was because we were young, married, and trying to make ends meet. Now it’s because of these creatures we live with. Oh sure everyone tells you kids are expensive. Yeah ,yeah sure, whatever.  I began to think they were liars because our babies were actually pretty cheap right? Free breastmilk! Seemingly lifetime supply of diapers and wipes from all those wonderful showers. And the clothes? Dang people love to pick out clothes for babies! But then they began to grow. No one buys clothes for your kid when they get to a size 4T!(besides their sweet Mimi) No one told me that. And shoes. They grow a shoe size every time I turn around. Either that or they throw one of their shoes at a random location when my head is turned and we have to buy a new pair anyway. Ahem, E. My hubby acts like “those kids really need more clothes and shoes??” Poor thing doesn’t understand either.  And it has nothing to do with my obsession with Carters and Gymboree so don’t look at me that way.

Oh and those diapers I thought would last until they were potty trained? 6 months tops. Now instead of changing that precious bottom every time they go, the name of the game is see how long we can get out of that diaper before it actually falls off their little bottom from the weight of it. Don’t judge. And go figure, after they’re done breastfeeding and begin to eat food, they begin to eat you out of house and home! Now instead of money probs because we are irresponsible with it and go out to eat all the time or get an occasional pedi, or buy a new cute Easter dress for myself, or whatever, now we drop a small fortune at Publix every week! I’m talking they should personally thank us for helping their stocks go up (I don’t even know if that’s how it works but you get the idea). Growing boys are expensive to feed! And don’t you know that you have to feed them all the time?? They’re constantly hungry. Every time I turn around I’m like I need to feed ya’ll again?? And by the way, people who say eating healthy doesn't have to be expensive are just not telling the truth.  We’ve dedicated our family to mostly clean eating and it’s not cheap. Not to say we don’t have a Goldfish habit. Pretty sure they aren't "clean" but try to tell J and E that.

So because of the commitment we have made for me to be a stay at home mama, we depend on one income to constantly feed those monsters we call our children. And I try really hard not to think about the fact that in a short few years from now they will both be teenagers at the same time and thinking they eat a lot now is pretty much a joke. Yikes!

Wouldn’t have it any other way. (Most days)

PS: Anyone else notice that all my posts involve Publix in some way? Weird.

Blessings,

L

Piss and Vinegar

Okay so I don't usually use words like "piss" but special circumstances call for special words. My mom used the phrase "full of piss and vinegar" growing up. It refers to the behavior of small children or pets that can be somewhat disconcerting to their others. (Now let's be clear, it was used when describing my brother, not me.) To those like my hubby who are unfamiliar with the term, some synonyms would be: Rowdy, boisterous, full of youthful energy, ornery, trouble maker, stinker; characterized by getting into everything, becoming like a mini human tornado and destroying everything in sight, and generally driving someone nuts. This is one of the phrases I used with Little E this morning. Little E just happened to wake up this morning full of piss and vinegar. He also fits the description of Stitch in Lilo and Stitch. She tells him " This is your badness level. It's unusually high for someone your size."All before about 9:30 AM, here is some of the mischief he got into.

Photo Cred: Pinterest

First thing, he was contentedly eating his cereal and grapes in our room until I didn't hear him anymore. I heard something in the kitchen and not wanting to get up myself, and not being able to force hubby to go check, I sent the 3 year old. "Go see what your brother is doing." J comes running in saying "He got into the cat food! And he dumped out all the powder!!" Oh no. Under the usually locked cabinet under the sink where I keep the cat food, comet with bleach, and antibacterial wipes. He had dumped out almost the whole can of Comet. UGH! As soon as that was cleaned he quickly moved on to the ink pen and notebook. He loves to draw. This time it was all over himself. J said "Looks like E drew a snowflake on his tummy!"
Among other things, he also dragged the chair over to the counter to reach the bug spray,emptied out the medicine container, dumped out cupfuls of bath water onto the bathroom floor, and peed in the tub. Oh wait, that's a regular occurrence, guess I can't count that one. He is quick. And before you're able to recover from the last thing, he's moved on to the next.

See Little E is what hubby and I call a Sour Patch. You know those commercials where the sour patch kids do something terrible and then something sweet that totally endears the person to them? Like kick you in the shin and then come give you a kiss? That's Little E. He does all these crazy, frustrating antics and then he literally does it with the sweetest most charming smile. He looks at you like "What? Aren't you just as pleased with what I did as I am?!" And then he comes and hugs your leg. Dang that kid is cute! We believe God made him that way so we wouldn't strangle him. God's smart like that. 

Video Cred: Youtube

Crazy Old Diaper Lady

Our sense of smell has a very strong influence on the way we think about and remember things. Smells can take us back to our childhoods, remind us of people and places we haven't even thought of in years. My sense of smell is particularly strong. I can smell things from really far away and pinpoint what it is with surprising accuracy. It's a gift and a curse. Just imagine what it was like for me when I was pregnant! And imagine what it's like to be my husband! "Eww don't come near me, I know you had garlic at lunch!" Or, "Ooh honey smells like fresh cut grass, you've been mowing the lawn?"

Confession time.Promise not to judge? I'm pretty sure I have a problem. A diaper problem. Like I love to smell diapers kind of problem. And no not dirty ones, I don't have THAT kind of problem. But since we're on the topic, I sure have sniffed for a poopy diaper a time or two or a thousand. What mom hasn' t?! No these diapers have to be fresh. And not just any kind of diapers, but Pampers diapers. Have you ever smelled a Pampers diaper? They smell like all things beautiful and precious about babies. They smell like clean, powdered baby bottom. I have been known to open a new bag and inhale deeply and smile. My hubby probably thinks, "what the heck? Oh whatever, it's just one of her quirky things." I love to smell them because they remind me of my baby. Because that's what he smells like! I just love it.

You know those little old ladies you see in the grocery store? Maybe it's just me because we are always there in the morning and it's only old people there. But you know who I'm talking about. Pushing that cart, shuffling down the aisles, getting their tuna fish and crackers and whatever else little old ladies eat. She always stops when we come down the aisle. It doesn't matter how unruly my children are being she's always smiling, never judging like others might. She says "what sweet boys!" She may even be bold enough to reach over and pinch their cheeks or tickle their chubby feet. I always smile and nod. These ladies delight in seeing little ones because sadly, they are by themselves most of the day. It may just be the highlight of their day to go to the store and pinch some stranger's baby's cheeks. And bless their hearts, those sweet old ladies have their own crazy quirks too.

Fast forward 60 years or so. I AM THAT LADY. I am the crazy, old, diaper lady. Because I am old and have lived my life. My hubby, God rest his soul has passed on (sorry babe) and left me alone. My children are all grown. My grandchildren are scattered. No little ones are there to throw all the stuff out of the cart, to insist on getting the eggs himself and subsequently break a half dozen, to yell and beg for candy at the checkout. So I shuffle down those aisles alone with my cart and stop in the baby section. I walk to the diapers and I shakily reach for a bag of Pampers. I look around to see if anyone is watching. I debate whether to track down that young mother two aisles over and ask if I can smell her baby's bottom. I think better of it. So I slowly inhale the delicious scent. Mmmm. Clean, powdered, baby bottom. And all those memories come rushing back like they were yesterday. Memories of snuggling a newborn close while they nurse. Memories of countless diaper changes. Memories of being peed on when you least expect it. Memories of cuddling with a toddler before naptime. Memories of a little one running around the house in only a diaper. Smelling that smell and remembering my babies when they were babies. And I smile. God bless the Pampers company. And now I'd love to know how many of you went and smelled your baby's diapers?

Blessings,
Lynsey

Hello There!

This is my official entrance into the world of blogging! Most of my “readers” (feels so cool to type that!) will already know me, but on the off chance there’s someone out there reading who doesn’t know me personally, allow me to introduce myself. I am a 27 year old stay at home mama of two sweet and busy boys - our little 19 month old who I will refer to as “E”, and our 3 –almost- 4 year- old who will be “J”. I am married to my high school sweetheart for six years, with a background in elementary education, currently using it on my kids. I am unapologetically a Christ follower, which makes me a conservative republican (gasp!) and yes I do have some strong views and beliefs, grounded on the Bible. Some adjectives that could describe me: perfectionist, book nerd, passionate, loving, impatient, hard worker, mama, short tempered, giving, wife, daughter, daughter in love, sister. When I look at all those things, seems like they can’t possibly be the same person. Oh but they are!  We are all a very interesting mix of so many things- our upbringing, our genes, our environment, and our beliefs among other things. Thank the Lord He continues to sanctify me and change me to be better all the time!

So it brings me to the topic of this blog. Like some of my Facebook friends would know, I have gone back and forth about starting a blog for a long time. Being an insecure female at times, I kept telling myself that there are so many mommy blogs out there, better known, better written, more humorous, etc, etc. So who would want to read mine? But I kept feeling a tugging at my heart to do it. And I always liked writing in school and really love reading, especially other blogs. I think they connect us somehow, especially us stay at homers who need to connect with another human who isn’t asking you to come “do some wiping action” from the bathroom.

 Some sweet friends and family encouraged me to start to write and I decided to go for it! After all, everyone has a story. And everyone’s story is different and can touch people in different ways. See, I know that as a stay at home mama really funny and crazy and sweet and frustrating things happen every day. And I always have the urge to share. Share the joy, share the exhaustion, share the laughs, share lives! Because after all isn’t that what life and relationships are for? Sharing it with each other? So I hope you take this motherhood journey with me and that you enjoy it. And keep in touch with me and let me know what you think!

Oh and for those of you who are just DYING to know why we chose the title of the blog, “Swordfights and Cheerios”: Sword fights because our child adores sword fighting. And shooting. And just plain fighting. His favorite characters are always the villains. Captain Hook, Zurg, heck even Al  from Al’s Toy Barn can be subject matter for our boy’s make believe games. For those of you who aren’t familiar with all things Disney, Al is a character from Toy Story 2. See, while all your precious little girls are fawning over Elsa and Anna and trying to be like them, dress like them, sing like them, my child is trying to hunt them down to capture and harm them. No joke here.  I’ve been wondering if I should be worried about this. Is my child going to grow up to be a psychotic murderer?? Is he never going to have friends because he scares them all off with his pirate talk, his incessant bang bang noises, and his roaring?? Will he grow up to be a sweet, humble, man of God in spite of the scariness that is being a 3 year old little boy? Lord I pray so. At least we know he has a great sense of imagination right? So anyway, there’s the sword fighting piece. And oh the cheerios. Every morning. It’s a requirement of the morning routine that he get his “cereal, milk, and juice”. It’s amazing where you will find these cheerios. In our bed, under our bed, smashed in the carpet, scattered all over the house. I think it’s a game for little E to find lost ones and eat them no matter how old and gross they are. And so, these two seemingly random things go together to showcase just a little of our parenting lives.

Blessings,

Lynsey