The Mommy Blog™ | Adventures from the Wonderbelly of Motherhood™

Sunday, April 11, 2004

As it is nearly 4 a.m., I will now try to go back to sleep and will not likely be back until after the sugar-glazed children have been poured into bed after a full day of church, egg hunt, lavish brunch at amazing restaurant, and hours of begging us for the rest of the crap in their Easter baskets….

I give you the Peep Show.

Second place: “Jesus Peeps” by Jill Schroeder, Minneapolis

Sunday, April 11, 2004

Humor

I love tuning in on Mondays to see Chris’s weekly haiku, and then Thursday brings the Thursday Haiku Smackdown, originally hosted at the Judith Light Brigade. Now it has its own site and is looking very bling bling! Good, clean fun.

Enter the Haiku-O-Matic. I hesitated to even post this because of the potential for tainting the art, but, dang, some of these are funny. Found at Anne’s, of course.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

Me, Me, Me

This is not something I thought I’d post about, but a confluence of events seems to indicate that it’s time.

It’s also not something I think you’ll all be thrilled to read, so if you’re uncomfortable with attachment parenting or extended breastfeeding, move along…

So, I was just putzing around when I started emailing with Genuine about my wine-and-chocolate dessert, and his wife asked me to hoist one for her, and I said, are you kidding? By the third pregnancy, I was hoisting my own.

This dovetails with the conversation I had with the doctor today while determining the proper prescription for me. He started to write an Rx for one antibiotic, when he looked up and asked if I was by any chance nursing. “Technically, yes. But not much. I can have amoxycillin, keflex, or augmentin.”

He looked at me skeptically and began to thumb through his little med reference booklet. *sigh* “My OBGYN has prescribed all of those for me before, even while pregnant, so I am sure they would be fine this time, too.”

“Um, how often do you nurse?” “Not much.” “Well, what do they eat during the day?” I looked down at my 2 year old daughter and 3 1/2 year old son and wondered what he was thinking. “Um, well, they are all old enough to eat anything they want. It’s just a psychological tether and a bonding thing. And it’s just Daphne.” “Oh, so you aren’t nursing them all?” “NO! Heh.” “OK, I had to ask. We just had someone in here that nursed hers until they were 6.” “Ahahahahahaha. No.”

All of this got me thinking. Aside from a 3-month break in 1997, during which time I was actively trying to conceive after a loss, I have been either pregnant or nursing pretty much continuously since December, 1996. That’s seven years, four months, and ten days. Holy little green tomatoes.

Most of my friends’ babies weaned themselves before 12 months, but I seem to be putting out either chocolate milk or crack cocaine, because my kids fight me tooth and nail for extended nursing rights.

To be fair, after Dylan suffered major heart damage with viral myocarditis as a newborn, my pediatrician (the coolest one on the planet BTW) encouraged us to go as long as we could both stand it to boost his immune system. All it took was for him to mention that it would only take one good, strong cold or flu to kill our son in the first year and I was right there with the program, fully and completely over whatever pressure I was feeling from those who looked askance at family beds, attachment parenting, and extended breastfeeding. They weren’t the ones wearing my breasts, I was, and mine was the only opinion that mattered in the end.

Brief aside: I’m not kidding about the whole family bed thing. If I have to line up syringes on my nightstand for round-the-clock administration to a newborn, I am not walking down the hall to get the baby. Period. I want that little sucker right where I can hear him breathing.

For six months, I carried a clipboard charting out the various medications, dosages, and schedules; believe me, when you are already sleep deprived and suffering from postpartum depression, you do NOT want to confuse the blood pressure medication with the morphine with the steroids with the stuff that makes his heart beat strongly enough to keep him alive. I couldn’t even think Babywise for months without wanting to kick something.

It seems to be true, though, that some children will want to go on longer than the most devoted attachment parenting devotees, and I actually found myself with tandem nurslings after I fell pregnant again when Dylan was just 9 months old.

Oh, and I would go on and on, but my daughter is currently wailing and clutching my jammies and begging me to take her to bed…

And oh look, here is her brother, wanting to snuggle in with us. Is this bad?

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Saturday, April 10, 2004

Weblogs

I always say I’ll resist posting strange keyword referrals, but damn.

Princeton nude olympics photo archives
what is mrs. polie’s first name
wash my shirt bitch

And here are some from the logs, but, alas, I don’t have the links…

reverse cowboy blog
moo moo i love you i know you re a cow but anything will do
new barbies w/ gray hair
over mommy s knee for a spanking (knock it off, Genuine)
mommy loves kids to fucking with photos
kissing my roommate lesbian
discovery kids no really

Saturday, April 10, 2004

Me, Me, Me

1 glass chilled Toasted Head chardonnay
1 6 oz. Dove solid chocolate bunny (furtively pilfered from MIL’s care packge (“Huh? Oh, mommy didn’t get one this year…”)
3 fed, bathed, jammied children, nestled in front of Disney du jour
1 comfy computer chair

Add cool breeze to warm air and mix in one soft cotton tanktop and drawstring loungers.

Bliss.

TheMommyBlog

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