Apparently about 1.3 inches of rainfall is too much for Comcast because our internet was down most of the day (read: playing catch-up on blog-reading/commenting). Actually, 1.3 inches is pushing it, since that is what the approximate rainfall total is as of 9:30pm…it was probably only at 0.5-0.75 inches at the point the service went down earlier today. Losers. Can you tell I don’t like them? I can’t wait for FiOS to come…obviously Justin and I are nearly foaming at the mouth, waiting for service to be extended to our area. But even for those folks who are too stupid, short-sighted, gluttons for poor internet service and worse customer service, excited to have their rates raised every month, not interested in changing providers should theoretically see a reduction in their rates (or at least a slow-down in the crazy rate hikes). Competition for consumer services is always a good thing.

Since Earth Day is in a few days, folks have been getting all “green” and the cable networks have “green” programming, and there’s ads with a representative from the Left and the Right talking about how they’re coming together for the Earth (my fave is the Al Sharpton/Pat Robertson pairing…goes back to my Religious Studies background, I guess). I recycle…in fact, I force Justin to recycle (although he likes to vex me with tossing stuff in the trash). We’re lucky that our area recycles nearly everything and it gets picked up on trash day. What’s killing me is the conversion from incandescents to fluorescents. I am soooooooo cheap that it is hard to want to pull out a working bulb and replace it with a fluorescent. I went and bought a bunch of the compact fluorescents when they were on sale for the multi-packs, so in the next few days I will be replacing working bulbs (inner monologue: I can do it, I can do it, I can do it). Maybe I’ll just have Justin remove the working bulbs so that all I’m doing is putting a new bulb where we’re missing one. But that’s not my biggest problem…my biggest problem is that we have at least 7 “builders special” lighting fixtures that each contain three decorator bulbs with the tiny candelabra bases (I didn’t build this house so I refuse to take responsibility for those brass atrocities). Each of those bulbs costs $9. Each light fixture will cost $27 to replace the bulbs…times six equates to about $189 (before tax…add like $9.49 more!). Really, people..that’s just crazy! So in light of my resistance to invest an obscene amount into lights I don’t particularly care for, I’m now on the hunt for replacement fixtures that have standard bases. It seems the only light fixtures with chrome/nickel/silver tone that are below $30 are either the ones you find in your grandma’s bathroom, or those fixtures that look like nipples. I just can’t put nipples up on my ceilings. I already have a complex about my magical shrinking breasts…I don’t need large breasts taunting me from above. Does anyone have any reasonably-priced flushmount fixtures with a silver tone from this millenium that will not give me mammary nightmares?

As I’ve mentioned, Justin has been working out for a good 4 or 6 weeks. I’m very proud of him…it’s not easy getting up close to 2 hours earlier than normal to go work out, or to turn away favorite foods, and eat those funky protein bars. Despite all that, he’s been doing well and chugging along, and the results have shown on his body and on the scale. What has been driving me crazy is the friggin’ abandoned water bottles (usually in some state of not-quite-empty) ALL over the house. I tend to leave them because I figure he’ll come back to it. But by the end of the day, I’ll often find several all over the house. Since it’s late, I usually dump them in the plant (can’t make myself dump it in the sink), and leave them on the counter above the kitchen trash can (my recycling staging area). By morning, they are gone, and each time I naively think hope he put them in the recycling bin on his way out. Nope! I pop open the kitchen trash and there they are! It makes me crazy to pick them up; it makes me crazy to dump out the undrunk water; it make me crazy to dig them out of the smelly trash (often from under the old coffee grounds) to put them in the recycling! Crazy. REALLY CRAZY! Like I’m-gritting-my-teeth-typing-about-it-now kind of crazy. And know what? His parents recycle…like really really REALLY recycle…like break-down-the-cereal-boxes-and-toss-in-the-toilet-paper-rolls kind of recycling. HARD CORE! His mom has composted eligible food garbage as long as I’ve known her…yet her own flesh-and-blood can’t put his twelve-hundred-bazillion partially-drank water bottles into the well-marked recycle bin. OMG, people, we don’t even have to separate our recyclables…nope…just toss them all in and they’re separated at the center. Maybe I should go all Ed Begley on him for a week or two so that when I go back to normal, he’ll be so relieved that he’ll comply. And before you ask, I did buy him a reusable water bottle, especially since most bottled water lacks fluoride and doesn’t have the same standards imposed on it as drinking water. He refuses to use it. Says it’s easier to grab a bottle out of the fridge; he refills the bottle a few times during the day (so has 1 bottle of bottled water and like 3 bottles of filtered tap water). But I think he refuses to use the reusable bottle just so he can watch my head explode each morning.

Know what else? PMS is a bitch (as I sit panting in the corner like Animal from all my ranting).

Okay, I finally got my act together to write this post after being tagged by Marcy at the Upstate Update, who was tagged by Anne at Archie’s Room, and if I read everything correctly, are participating in the Bring it Down 31 for 21.  I kept trying to figure out what I’d write, especially since all the blogs I went back through this tag-line were mothers of children with Down Syndrome.  My two boys will most likely never have some of the same sorts of challenges as their children…and (this is a sad state of our society), will probably not be pre-judged by their appearance in the same manner as their children.  So I’ve been at a loss on what to write since, well, okay…I’m just going to end up writing myself into a circle so I hope all of you out there understand how weird I am and how weird I’m being and maybe have a slight understanding of why.  Now I’ll just shut-up and get on with the real meat of this post:

What I’ve Learned

As a mother of a three year old and a three month old, I’ve learned that I just.cannot.do.it.all.  When I only had Gavin, I thought I was busy-busy-so busy with a kid and a full-time job and a commute and a husband to love and pets to feed once in a while.  When I was pregnant with Cooper, and was larger than life (I actually looked like I had a gigantic nursery incubator attached to the front of me), I still managed to take care of Gavin, take care of Justin, take care of both dogs, and all four cats (including one slowly dying of cancer), work full-time, have a ridiculous 3-hour per day commute, have a jewelry business on the side, and somehow still have time to shower and moan about how uncomfortable I was (since feisty Cooper liked to punch and seemingly scratch the inside of the bottom of my uterus…yes, scratch…you weren’t in there with him so you don’t know…although I was so big, you might’ve been in there with him, so if you know what he was doing, please let me know since the docs wouldn’t let me get a sonogram just to see what he was doing in there). 

Now?  Well, now I’ve had to relinquish a lot of Gavin’s care to Justin (and he’s been doing a fantastic job, too) because I’ve got Cooper-duty full-time, I’ve been doing a poor job of taking care of Justin (believe me, I’m trying, Honey!), I still have full-time care of the animals (although we are now minus-one cat), my jewelry business has been tanking (although, in my defense, I have been trying…sorta…*sigh*), I’m still working full-time with that awful commute (that gives me material), and I’m happy if I can get a shower every-other day.  Hard to believe that adding one very little person (well, not that little, he was 14 lbs and 24 inches this past Wednesday) makes such a HUGE difference.  I was totally not expecting that.

I’m a bit of a control-freak (that wishes she was a clean-freak instead) that has had a hard time giving up things.  I know that it will be easier once Cooper is a little older and (hopefully) less colicky and sensitive to new experiences, but it’s hard to wait.  Plus, my house is a perpetual mess and my husband is a perpetual nag about the mess (hi there…I love you) and since he’s been taking a class (and studying like crazy so he’s not home much), Gavin and I have resorted to eating anything that takes 5 minutes or less in the microwave for dinner.  I usually eat a few bites of this so-called dinner with Gavin while I nurse Cooper and make sure Gavin eats the barely-nutritious food I’ve given him.  It’s not been easy.  So I’ve learned that I need to let these things go a bit since the situation I’m in is temporary (well, not the two kids, I hope…they’re permanent…but the whole stupid-busy with hardly a husband right now is temporary).  I also learned that I need to let things be handled by someone else and I’ve learned to ask for help (thanks again, Kari and Dave, for watching Cooper while I ran willy-nilly to the vet on Saturday with Gavin and Ginger). 

What I Wish

What do I wish for my boys?  Well, I wish for them to have compassion and empathy for others.  I wish for them to be kind to everyone they meet, but to also be strong enough to deal properly with those that might try to take advantage of their kind hearts.  I wish for them to NOT have my temper, but hope that they get some of my sense of humor (as lame as it may be, it’s kind of nice and sugary to be as easily amused as I am) and some of their dad’s sense of humor (though maybe not all of it, since he is weird and warped and I love him…heh!…and I’d hate to think of either of my kids using the term “POOT” anywhere near my presence).  I wish for them to be bright and clever and to not be too shy.  Finally, I really wish for them to be happy…to know that Justin and I “raised them right” and that they don’t hate us and spend thousands of dollars in therapy due to our parenting.

So who am I tagging?  I think I will be really bold and tag Maya at the Laurent Files since this seems to be something she would enjoy writing (she writes beautiful letters to her adorable son, Zane, and she’s lovely and reads my rantings & ravings), I’ll tag Leandra at Madame Queen since she is so wonderful as to read and comment as well (and I’m tagging myself from her meme…look for it hopefully tomorrow), and I will tag Tricia at Unringing the Bell since it doesn’t look like anyone else tagged her for this assignment (and she’s the originator of 31 for 21).  I’d tag my husband, but he’d probably drop f-bombs about it and whine and complain that he is creatively tapped-out (hi Honey, still reading?  I still LOVE you!).

Did y’all know we missed National Grouch Day yesterday?  Or that I goofed again and didn’t post?  I do have a good excuse this time…I had work to do at work.  And at home.  And I still do, but I’m taking a quick break to talk to all you fine folks out there in Internet Land.

So yesterday was National Grouch Day.  Seems fitting that it would’ve been George’s tenth birthday.  Anyone who met my cat George would see the funny coincidence that my tough, grouchy cat was born on National Grouch Day.   He was a punk, wouldn’t put up with anyone’s crap, and, like most grouches out there, was a real softy if he let you get to know him.  Man, I miss that cat.  **sniff**

and really, that’s all I’ve got to say about that.

If any of you are Looky Daddy fans…his daughter Katheryn had what doctors believe might’ve been a seizure…very scary stuff…be sure to stop by to lend The Dad and The Mom your support and good thoughts.

And just to raise the spirits a little, this week Gavin said the following crazy things:

• “what’chu talkin’ about, Mommy?” after I replied to his query that I did not have his frog in my possession
• “what’s going on here, Mommy?” after I informed him that I needed him to sit and do his puzzle while I cooked dinner
• “look at me, Mommy, what’s going on here?” after I told him while we were at the vets office that we couldn’t leave until after the doctor saw Ginger

Apparently I need to pay attention to what I’m saying to him because that last phrase is one that I use often (since Gavin hardly ever pays attention to me unless he’s looking at me when I speak to him).  But his responses also tell me that he’s onto me and my sneaky parental ways (i.e. hiding vegetables in his meatloaf, making him pay attention to his toys while I sneak off to pee in solitude and silence)…darn.

In honor of today, the Great Breast Fest, or the Virtual Nurse-In, I have posted a ridiculously conservative photo of me nursing my nearly-3-month old.  I wish I was bolder, but I’m not.  But I TOTALLY believe if there are women out there that are comfortable nearly flashing their nips in an attempt to help bring more awareness to all the close-minded freaks at Facebook who are deleting images and accounts of women who have posted their breastfeeding pictures, then they should (and should be allowed to) do so.  The worst part, it sounds like Facebook is even doing it to women who have posted pictures like mine, where no breast is actually exposed (unless you look REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYY close, you can see a sliver….whoa!  nakedness!  bring on the prudes!).

So breastfeeding women (and all the non-breastfeeding supporters) unite!  Flash a little or a lot of baby-feedin’!  Why should we be made ashamed to feed our babies?  That’s like hiding a cow that’s nursing her calf from kids at the farm, or hiding the big mama gorilla nursing her baby at the zoo.  It’s natural and should be viewed as such.

Now I can totally understand non-breastfeeders (men, women who chose for whatever reason to not breastfeed, anyone without children who don’t understand, children, etc.) feeling a little uncomfortable with women who will just whip it out and feed their kid (especially if that child doesn’t really latch on, so there’s a LOT of boob getting flapped around).  You are witnessing someone’s partial nakedness, and you’re witnessing a beautiful bond between mom and baby (or toddler, which even I still feel a little funny about…please don’t kill me LaLeche Leaguers!).  But would you ban the woman from wherever you are?  Prevent her from eating at the restaurant?  Kick her out of the store?  No.  You’d probably just advert your eyes, blush a little, maybe a nervous smile.  So why folks on Facebook (supposedly an adult site…and by adult, I don’t mean ADULT XXX, I mean, a slightly more mature/older community site) can’t just smile and avert their eyes is beyond me.  As it is, I’m one of those women who will actually feed her child in public, but under a light blanket.  As he’s gotten older and more interested in his surroundings, Cooper has gotten a bit more annoying curious and will pop off and on while eating so that he can take a quick break and look around.  As you can imagine, that is (1) not terribly comfortable, and (2) not terribly modest.  So the blanket helps block out distractions and also preserves the little bit of modesty that I am trying to maintain…and that’s modesty about my breast (yes, LaLeche Leaguers, I know it’s my son’s meal, but it’s still my nekid-boobie!) and my funny flabby post-baby belly.  Actually I’m more worried about flashing that crazy, deflated-balloon-looking belly than my breast, but I wouldn’t mind keeping my breasts mostly to myself.

So please, if you feel that women should be allowed to post their breastfeeding photos, breastfeed in public (which they are protected by law in many states), then post your pics and dump your Facebook site (nudge nudge, Justin).

Now for some musings and/or journal entries on breastfeeding:

• I only breastfed Gavin for 6 weeks because I was having a major supply problem…by a week old, I was already needing to give him a bottle following every feeding.  I couldn’t seem to get anywhere pumping milk, so I weaned him by the time I went back to work at 7 weeks.  I felt guilty, but a little relieved.  Now he wasn’t freaking out because he was still hungry and I wasn’t dying of guilt and shame because my body couldn’t figure out how to feed by baby.  I swore I would try harder with the next baby…read up on stuff, etc.

• Friends whom I never thought would even have children went and had babies, and then breastfed them for several months…that also inspired me to try harder.

• I read about Fenugreek, a supplement that is supposed to help increase your milk supply.

• I read about other ways of keeping up your supply (pumping after feeding baby to signal to brain “more milk, please”; not skipping any feedings, if possible; try to squeeze in a pumping session after baby is down for the night; pump as many times at work as you would normally be feeding your baby, etc.).

• So Cooper the Hoover Power-Vac was born (I thought about naming him Dyson, but it turns out there was another baby boy born the same day in our hospital who was legally named Dyson….wonder if his mama’s boobs were as sore as mine!) and I nursed him like a champ!  And nursed him, and nursed him, and doggone-it that-kid-is-eating-again nursed him.

• Since I failed my GBS (Group B Strep) test, I was given a LOT of antibiotics…so I developed a raging complete-body yeast infection that culminated in Thrush, the most amazingly painful thing I have ever encountered in my life (and I’ve delivered two 8+Pound babies).   I even lost skin on my breasts from the infection and bled…to not only painful, but terrifying, too.  But I trudged on by pumping (thanks to my mom for buying my Playtex Double Embrace pump!…I love it…it has been a life (boob) saver!) and giving Cooper bottles so that I could heal enough to feed him at the breast again.

• Around 5 weeks of age, Cooper started eating way more than I could seemingly provide for him (didn’t help he hit a growth spurt and was eating every 2 hours), and I had a re-emergence of the dreaded Thrush (although since I recognized it right away, I nipped it in the bud before I was biting my tongue to keep from screaming while feeding Cooper).  This is also when I was put on Reglan…and OMG!  It was so wonderful to be able to feed my baby and not need to provide a follow-up bottle for him!  Then I was able to sufficiently provide for his nutritional needs in 20 minutes every 2 hours instead of 45 minutes every 2 hours (I let him empty each breast and then STILL had to give him a bottle–and he was colicky–totally exhausting!)

• After I finished my Reglan, Cooper was done with his growth spurt, so it seemed I was doing alright keeping up with his hunger…I usually only needed 2 ounces of formula per day to supplement his last feeding before bed.  But then I started work.

• While I’m at work, I pump 3 times per day (sometimes 2 if my schedule gets crazy), and without the Reglan, I was lucky to get 6 ounces TOTAL…and this is with a hospital-grade pump (Cooper actually eats 4 times in the time that he’s at daycare…so he gets 2 milk and 2 formula bottles). 

• So I called my doctor and begged to have the Reglan again…whoo!  up to about 10 ounces total per day!  Still kept Cooper on 2 milk bottles and 2 formula bottles and froze any extra milk.

• Ran out of Reglan and expected it to be like before…some lingering residual boobie boost where I might not get 10 ounces, but maybe 8…nope.  Within 1 day of being off the Reglan, I was only getting 5 and 6 ounces total again.  So depressing…so I called my doctor again.

• By the way, I’m on so much Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle that I smell like a giant, white,  Aunt Jamima.  I also eat oatmeal nearly every day, and drink a crap-load of fluids.  I am doing all the anecdotal things…

• So the doctor put me on my ‘final’ bout of Reglan and instructed me that I need to call an LC.  I called the LC and told her my tale…she pretty much said, “wow…you actually have a real supply problem because you are doing all that you can and still aren’t getting the results.  Wish some of my other patients were as dedicated.”  She also told me that since the doctor wasn’t keen on giving me any more Reglan, to maybe change my thinking from “I can’t pump enough to feed my baby” to “My baby is eating all I can pump” so that it’s mroe positive and less upsetting.  Nope….not working.

• I cried myself silly all the way home and all the way to the store to pick up my prescription of Reglan.  As an experiment, instead of ramping up to 3-10mg doses per day, I’ve kept it at 2-10mg doses per day and am getting the same results.  At least I have been able to stretch out my medicine.  Once it’s gone, however, I think I might just freak out a bit again…then maybe scale back to only feeding him in the mornings and at night (but of course, with my sensitive supply, I will still need to pump during the day so that my dumb boobs will make sure there’s milk for him at night). 

• I really wanted to go for 6 months, and I’m scared that my body won’t let me nurse him for even 4 months.  I mean, I know I tried, and I have nothing against formula (except smellier poop!), but I really wanted to do the best I could since I copped-out early last time around.  Any other suggestions out there?

So there’s my breastfeeding story.

On a totally unrelated note…happy birthday to my friend, Sany…don’t think I will make the party, bud (too old, too married, too breastfeeding), but wanted to wish you a great day just the same.  Also, happy birthday to Mrs. Sneaky at Precarious Tomato (hope she doesn’t think I’m too weird…but I like birthdays and recognizing others for their birthdays).