Thank You For Being A Friend

Before I had Luke I had all sorts of hopes and dreams for myself as a mother my boobs . They were fairly small and perky, so I didn't worry about post-nursing sag. Nowhere for them to go, right?

Wrong.

I thought my small boobs wouldn't be able to sag much; not enough material. Unfortunately that is not the case. Through the MIRACLE OF SCIENCE my boobs have found a way. It turns out going from empty to REALLY EFFING FULL over and over and over again can deflate even the perkiest boobs. In honor of the occasion, I have named them Blanche and Dorothy.

That's right. The girls are still feisty, but they have packed up their caftans and their slouch boots and migrated south.

I'm Hanging The Girls Out To Dry

I am done with breast feeding. I'm not particularly sad or excited about it, I'm just done. As I've said before, I was breast feeding Luke with no set stopping point in mind. I just knew I would nurse him until he let me know he wanted to stop.

He wants to stop.

The main reason we're stopping is because his body seems to need more food to sustain him; milk alone just doesn't seem to cut it. If he gets milk (or formula) only, he is hungry again within an hour. If he gets some oatmeal or veggies before his bottle he is happy as a clam all afternoon.

The second reason we're stopping is because it's getting increasingly frustrating to nurse him, and sometimes I feel like I'm nursing a 6-armed monkey. For one thing, he's so big he hardly fits in my lap anymore. Also, the more mobile and independent he gets, the less he wants to lay in my lap and drowsily nurse. Even when he gets a bottle, he doesn't curl up in a little ball of snuggles. No, he lays on his back - holding the bottle himself, by the way - squirming, kicking and looking around the room. The only time I can still nurse him (somewhat) effectively is first thing in the morning when he's not quite awake yet. At night is a whole different story. With the cats, TV and ceiling fan all doing very interesting things, there is no way he wants to turn his back on the action and get some face time with my boobs.

The last, but still VERY IMPORTANT reason we're stopping is because IT HURTS. He has two teeth now (and I'm sure there's more where they came from) and he occasionally bites me with them. Not my favorite time of day. Even worse, he'll do this horrible, painful thing whenever he gets distracted: he will whip his head around, while he's still latched on, which causes a not-so-pleasant slurping effect. OUCH.

As bad as some of that sounds, I'm actually happy about it. The last thing I wanted was a baby that never wanted to stop nursing. I didn't want to have to pry him off with a crowbar, or explain to him "mommy loves you, but she wants her boobs back now."

So, a chapter of his childhood has come to a close, but another door will open in its place... probably the one to Victoria's Secret. Can I tell you how sick I am of my nursing bras?

The Cleveland Browns Have Cheerleaders, Right?

The family took a trip to Maryland last weekend. I don't know if it was the stress of travel or something he ate, but he hadn't pooped since Saturday afternoon. As our Monday afternoon flight grew nearer, all I could think was "Don't poop on the plane. Don't poop on the plane." Seriously, have you seen how tiny an airplane bathroom is?

He didn't poop on the plane - whew! - but by the time we got home it was clear he was constipated. At first it was funny, what with his little grunts and his poop-face, but as we got closer and closer to bedtime I got worried.

Finally, he started making poop-face right before bed and I thought "At last, this is it!" I gave him a few minutes, then excitedly rushed to change his diaper (first and last time THAT will happen). After all that work, there was one tiny little turd, laying there and mocking me. "Damn you, poop gods!" I shouted, shaking my tiny fist at the sky.

Tuesday morning, same story. Lots of straining on Luke's part with no poop to show for it. By now he was so backed up he was crying. Frantically, I googled.

Feed your baby 'p' foods; prunes, peas, pears, etc. Already did that.
Give your baby some water to drink. Yep, did that too.
Give your baby some Karo syrup. Didn't have any.
Stimulate the area by inserting a rectal thermometer. REALLY didn't want to do that.

Despite the fact that the all-knowing Internet told me not to do anything drastic without first discussing it with a pediatrician, I had no choice. Luke was in pain, and if the only way to help was to violate our thermometer, so be it.

Steven opened Luke's diaper while I looked around for our thermometer and Vaseline. Then, as if his butt knew what was about to happen, the spirits moved him.

He suddenly started pooping - hooray! - but DEAR GOD YOU CAN'T UN-SEE THAT. There was lots of cheering on our part, but also, WHY CAN'T I STOP PICTURING IT??

So, long story short, I have now become a cheerleader for poop.

P.S. - Luckily, the old diaper was still laying there because the changing pad was 3 seconds away from its worst day ever.

Introducing: Carolina Pear Paper Goods

This is where I shamelessly plug my new business...

I recently launched Carolina Pear, a paper goods company, with my best friend Brettany. I couldn't be more excited about it!


Our love of all things paper blossomed when Brettany and I designed our own wedding invitations, programs, place cards, etc; you name it, we DIY'd it! After we said our "I Do's" and settled into married life with our hubbies, we still had the urge to create. When friends and family got engaged, we were more than happy to lend a creative hand with their paper goods. Last fall, with many weddings under our belts, we felt we were finally ready to start the business we had always talked about.

As much as we adore weddings, our business doesn't stop there. Carolina Pear offers full service stationery design - party invitations, holiday cards, birth announcements and more!

Our bodies may be firmly rooted in the South - hence the name, Carolina Pear - but we would love to help brides and families all across the country! Please check out our website and feel free to recommend us to those in your life. To make it easy for you, I've added a Carolina Pear button to my sidebar, so you don't have to go rooting around the blog to find the link!

I Hope This Is As Interesting To You As It Is To Me

Luke's first tooth must have been lonely because tooth #2, a.k.a. "Twoth," popped up Saturday afternoon. The two-man tag-team on his gums has made Luke fairly cranky, so it looks like my initial optimism may have to go shove itself. I can still hold out hope that any future, one-at-a-time teeth won't give us much trouble. In the meantime, Baby Orajel is our new best friend.

Happy Happy, Joy Joy!

I don't like to put the same content on both blogs, but this is too good not to share. Head on over to my other blog to find out why I'm doing my happy dance.

Houston We Have A Tooth*

*To be fair, I have to give Steven credit for that line. But I have a blog and he doesn't, so I get to use it. HA!

Last night we were watching American Idol doing something highly intellectual and Luke needed a diaper change. Since he is inexplicably happy on his changing table, he was smiling and giggling as I changed him and tickled him. (Seriously, baby giggles are like crack to me.) In the middle of a laugh I saw something shiny and white peeking out from under his tongue. I pulled his lip down for a closer look and, sure enough, there was a tiny little tooth! (I tried to take a picture of this but he is very wiggly and sticks his tongue out anytime something comes near his mouth, so you can imagine how well that went.)

He has been pre-teething for 3 months, i.e. drooling and chewing on everything, with no teeth in sight. Last week we could feel a tooth about to erupt and then last night it arrived! His mood or level of fussiness never changed despite having a tooth rip its way through his gums, so hooray for laid-back baby. Here's hoping he stays this happy for the rest of them.

In honor of this milestone, I leave you with this clip from Family Guy:

Don't Play With Your Food

We're trying to teach Luke not to play with his food. This takes on a whole new meaning when he's breastfeeding.