I couldn't have said it better

What an awesome post.

Thank you.

Triality

This picture is inspired by this photo.

The female breast is quite functional and more often than not in the United States, is recognized and appreciated for the function on your left (my right).

Breastfeeding (especially the breastfeeding of a two year old) is often seen as gross, dirty, unnecessary, and something that gets in the way of the aforementioned man-centered function. Those things couldn't be further from the truth.

It boggles my mind to think about the double standards in our society regarding female breasts:

Big, bouncy, and out of control for a man's (or female's) pleasure? Quite all right. More than all right, in fact. Breasts can sell everything from cars to hamburgers.

Milk producing and attached to an infant and a (shock, gasp) toddler? Put those pillowcases away you crazy hippie.

The idea that breasts for sexual pleasure and breasts for breastfeeding are mutually exclusive is totally and completely wrong. Breasts are for both.

Even more than that, MY breasts are for ME.

Mother Culture

I am so digging her work.

Check it out.

Warning: Boob-related rant ahead

Three of my good friends just had babies and that means three things:

1. My ovaries are achin’ like crazy
2. I am constantly being regaled with stories of all night feedings, C-section staples and scars, and changes in color and amount of lochia … thus ending the aching in my ovaries.
3. I get to talk about BOOBIES!!!!!! Woot woot!


I think that given my profession, time spent hosting on Babycenter, time spent breastfeeding and pumping, and my willingness to discuss everything from plugged ducts to breast compressions anywhere and everywhere, I am considered somewhat of a “go to” gal when it comes to all things lactation. I have probably said “seedy, mustard-colored poop” and “breast” in the same sentence while touching my own breasts (because for some reason when talking about breastfeeding I get all “tune in Tokyo” with my self) than legally allowed in 47 states.

I’m in heaven.

The only downside to this poop-breast-touchingmyself cocktail party that I have going on is that I have to hear all the awful, awful advice my struggling friends have received from family, friends (friends of the non-booby loving variety), and DOCTORS!!!!!

Argh! Doctors who don’t know nothing about no boobies are the bane of my existence! I can almost forgive the “well-meaning” family members and friends; like all of us they were probably brought up in a formula/bottle feeding culture and they don’t know anything but doctors!?! Either admit that you don’t know anything about breastfeeding and send your patient on their merry way to a lactation consultant or take a class and buy a book! I am seriously wondering if there is a class intended only to teach OBGYNs and pediatricians how to perfect the art of saying “you need to supplement with one ounce of formula after each feeding” as the answer to any and every breastfeeding ailment.

Before people who don’t know me read this and think I’m all anti-medicine (hello, I work in the medical field) and anti-formula (hello, my son received gallons upon gallons of formula during the first 16 months of his life), let me just say that I am NOT anti-medicine and I am not anti-formula.

I am merely anti-ignorance and anti- the firm grip formula companies have on the medical field.

I am anti- doctors learning everything they think they need to know about breastfeeding from the back of an Enfamil can.

We live in a society where everything is “well, the doctor said…” and people don’t take active roles in their healthcare so every time a breastfeeding advocate without M.D. after their name speaks up against the old “give ‘em formula” line perfected in medical school with advice based upon current lactation science, advocates are made to look like crazy hippies running around with eight year olds hanging off their boobs screaming “don’t believe your doctor!!!!”

Honestly, I think if doctors would suck it up and just shut the hell up and admit they don’t know anything about breastfeeding and then pass the torch to those who do- no matter if they have MD after their name or not- then I think it would do wonders for breastfeeding rates in this country. It is so difficult to advocate breastfeeding when it goes against what "the doctor said".

Fortunately, my friend trusted my judgment and went to a lactation consultant and had everything I told her confirmed verbatim (even I don’t pretend to be a lactation consultant) and things are now going swimmingly. Well, as swimmingly as life with a newborn can go.

The pigs!

Things are on the mend now but I CANNOT believe what has been going down over at The Lactivist's Blog.

The Pork Board can definitely go pork themselves where the sun don't shine.

Puh-leaze

Food or Lewd??

Honestly, if you have to ask that question, then I have this one question for you:

Kick in the ass or in the crotch?

More say formula is "as good as" breast milk

"A growing number of Americans incorrectly believe that infant formula is as good as breast milk, while more are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with mothers breast-feeding their infants in public, the CDC said."

....

"This may at least in part be due to the introduction of formulas that contain long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acids in 2002, the researchers note, which have been advertised as "mimicking the positive influence of breast milk" on brain and vision development. Also, the researchers note, spending on advertising for infant formula rose from $29 million in 1999 to $46 million in 2004"


Read more here.

I don't find this hard to believe at all. Very sad.

Not Your Mother's Milk

Officially a hippie?

While I would definitely give a big, fat negative to someone other than me nursing the Goose (unless it was under dire circumstances... and sitting around in a drum circle with my ta-tas hanging out does not count as dire, in my opinion), I did indirectly wet nurse by providing expressed breast milk for a friend's baby and I must admit this article has several good points:

Formula milk has only been available since the early 1900s. Before then wet-nursing would have happened as a matter of course if the mother was ill or absent. In three generations it has become socially unacceptable.

and

All our objections to wet-nursing, says Shaw, are cultural: "The exchange of body fluids between different women and children, and the exposure of intimate bodily parts make some people uncomfortable. The hidden subtext of these debates has to do with perceptions of moral decency. Cultures with breast fetishes tend to conflate the sexual and erotic breast with the functional and lactating breast."

Oh, and "superlative breasts" is my new favorite phrase.

Poop Plague

Grace has had poop issues for about the past eight days… and by poop issues, I mean about two or three times a day her butt explodes and lets loose what I can only imagine is either the same toxic fluid that flows in Satan’s bloodstream or the gelatinous ooze that is found on the side of the road after a dead animal bakes in the afternoon sun for a week. Maybe two.

Seriously, people, it is F. O. U. L.

I called our pediatrician yesterday not necessarily because I thought she could do something about it (what does one prescribe for butt explosions? A cork?) but because I had vented enough to Lloyd about our daughter’s toxic hiney and felt the need to burn into someone else’s brain the sights and smells of Grace’s diapers for the past week.

The nurse called me back promptly and told me that “this” was going around and as long as Grace was eating and drinking and seemed fine that I didn’t need to worry. Not worry? Ummmm, tell that to my senses- namely sight, hearing, and taste. Yes, it is so foul you can taste it without actually tasting it. It gets inside of every fiber of my being. It haunts my dreams.

I tried to explain this to the nurse but she poo-pooed (pun intended) my concerns and told me to give it another week. I asked her if she could at least give me the number for HAZMAT but again, she dismissed me. Before we hung up, though, she gave a few dietary tips like make sure she is eating yogurt (check) and drinking plenty of fluids (check). I told the nurse that she is drinking plenty of water and still nurses A LOT during the day.

Wait for it….. Waaaaiiiiiiiittttt for it……

“Ohhhhhhhhhh, she’s still nursing?”

Then the nurse asked if I had changed anything in my diet recently that could have somehow passed to Grace via the boob juice and triggered all that is evil in the world to blow out of my child’s ass thrice daily. Yes, I gnawed on some of Satan’s bones with a side of road kill last week. Eureka! That’s it!

Argh. It really drives me crazy how little some health care professionals know about breastfeeding. I really like my pediatrician and her staff but between the doc telling me I needed to night wean Grace when she was two months- TWO MONTHS- old and now suggesting that MY diet could somehow be responsible for this evil plague that has fallen upon our house I feel like I need to offer to do an inservice on how NOT to continue the spread of breastfeeding myths.

You heard it here first. Breast milk may cause diarrhea. Hmmm, didn’t know breast milk was used in Mexican cuisine.

Public Service Announcement

The FDA issued a warning letter to Nestle.

This letter is dated November 27, 2006, and this is the first piece of information I have come across regarding the fact that "Nestle® brand Good Start Infant Formula with Iron (was found to be) in violation of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act (the Act) and the implementing regulations contained within Title 21, Code of Federal Regulations, Part 107 (21 CFR 107)".

Apparently the calcium and phosphorus levels were below the minimum requirements set for infant formula and were less than what was stated on the label.

I have been scouring the internet looking for more information and I came across this from the Associated Press dated December 12, 2006. Nestle has 15 working days to address the FDA's concerns so hopefully we'll know more soon.

I just don't understand how a woman breastfeeding on a plane can cause a media frenzy while infant formula found to be nutritionally deficient barely causes a blip on the media radar.

Funny, true, and sad

The Boobs on a Plane story made me think of these:



(click to enlarge)

More "Boobs on a Plane"

File this under flight attendants who need a serious ass whooping:


That’s when Gillette noticed the lone flight attendant holding out a blanket, telling Gillette that she needed to cover up. “I was holding my shirt closed with one hand. There was literally not a bit of my breast exposed,” she says. “I was being as discreet as possible.” When Gillette refused, Gillette says the flight attendant responded; “You are offending me. You need to cover up.” Gillette refused again. Gillette says the flight attendant huffed off, and returned with a ticket agent, who told the family that they were being thrown off the plane. The stunned Gillettes gathered their things and started moving toward the door. “Gillette started quietly crying,” says Elizabeth Beopple, Gillette’s Vermont-based lawyer. “She was so humiliated. As they left the plane, the fight attendant was standing there, and Gillette said in tears, ‘Why are you doing this?’ ” According to the Gillettes, the flight attendant pointed to the door and said, “Get off the plane.” One of the copilots followed them out and apologetically explained that he could not overrule the flight attendant’s decision. “He said, ‘I’m so sorry. I have two children, and there’s nothing I can do about this…The same way that I have control over the cockpit, she has control over the passenger area.’”

"Because mother nature made bottles for a reason"

HAH!!!!!

Nurse out

Yesterday, when I caught word of the the first national nurse-in" being held today, I immediately called the husband because not only does our town have Delta Connection, it is at the very same airport where he works!!!

Me- "Saddle up the troops, babe! We've got ourselves a nurse-in at Delta tomorrow!"

Him= "Oh lord."

Me- "Time to fight the powers that be!"

Him- "No. No way. Uh-uh."

Me- "But I've been practicing!!!"

Him- "Practicing?"

Me- "2, 4, 6, 8, we deserve to lactate!!!!"

Me- "And my favorite- We won't buckle, it's our child's right to suckle!!!!!"

Him- "Oh lord."


ETA: I was just joking about the whole wanting to go the nurse-in thing. Just not my bag, baby. Although the idea of nursing Grace and yelling words like "lactate" and "suckle" in the husband's place of work- and therefore embarrassing him beyond belief and setting him up for a lifetime of teasing by all his coworkers- almost makes me want to go. Almost.

Attachment Parenting = Negligence? Social Abuse?

Warning: extreme examples ahead but come on, what else would they make a television story about?

That said, I'm no AP expert (although if I had to pick a parenting philosphy my views most fall in line with it would probably be AP... but still, I own three neglectomatics so what do I know?) but I'm not even sure if these extreme examples are, in fact, of attachment parenting. Last I checked, attachment parenting wasn't about forgoing a career or discipline in favor of demand nursing "forever" or home schooling. Besides, since when is it AP to give a 5 year old a binky? Hell, even the AP god himself- Dr. Sears- describes "balance" as one of the 7 B's of attachment parenting. I didn't see much balance in either video but then again, the media is not one to air balanced stories so perhaps that is only percption.

I have to say that the one dad cracked me up with his "I've noticed Lizz has had her tits out a lot lately, and it's not for me very often. I've tried standing in queue and pretending to be one of the girls, but she never falls for that!"

Hmmmm, do I smell a new Babycenter siggy???

Interestingly enough, this is the second story of the day I have come across that discusses 5 year olds nursing. The other was a blog post that featured- surprise surprise- an extreme (and by extreme, I mean effing crazy) example of a 5 year old nursing. One of the commenters, however, questioned if a 5 year old nursing was even legal and that, of course, pissed me off but sadly, I'm not surprised. Extended nursing is so very foreign to many and therefore, people are plain, flat out ignorant on the subject. It's no wonder that extended nursing is a foreign concept when so few 5 year olds are still nursing. Hence my surprise over stumbling across not one but two stories featuring 5 year olds and nursing.

Anyhoo, never mind the gratuitous poop shcts and displays of massive boobages and check out the clips and tell me what you think.


Part ONE


Part TWO

Cast Your Votes!

In Search of an Icon: Breastfeeding Symbol Contest.

Apparently the icon of a mom "whipping it out" with the boob "flapping in the wind" as the mom nurses the baby in front of thousands of innocent onlookers who are later forced to go into therapy for years on end and/or vent on every public parenting internet forum because of the horror that is seeing a teeny portion of a breast being used for its intented purposes didn't make the top 12.

What? You mean that's not what it's like when women breastfeed in public?

Talk to me, Goose

The Goosers can now say "nurse". She climbs up on me, wrinkles her brow and smiles sweetly and in the most demanding tone she declares "NUSSSSSSSSS!". It is shocking to hear such an angry tone come out of such a lovely girl. I imagine this is what it sounds like when an angel farts.

She doesn't ask, she doesn't request, she tells me via that one word:

"Listen up, lady! You know what I want and I know you got what I want so unless you want to see me roll around on the floor screaming my head off while intermittedly trying to grab at your ta-tas thus securing your place in the Guiness Book of World Records for the longest nipples; I suggest you nusss me NOW!"

I'm hoping now that she can verbally tell me to give her the boobages, it will clear up the miscommunication that resulted from her previous means of telling me she wants to "nusss".

Her: Pull my shirt down
Me: Does she want some applesauce?

Her: Take a header down my top and attempt to latch on to any and all flesh
Me: Maybe she needs a diaper change?

Her: Reach her hand down my shirt and try to pull one of the girls out
Me: Could it be she wants to play outside?

Her: Scream and cry while pointing at my chest
Me: She must be frightened of my shirt. I'll go change clothes.

Her: Stare at my chest and make smacking noises
Me: Did Timmy fall down the well?

See how much easier it wil be now? What, with all the mixed messages she gave me prior to being able to say "NUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

Experience preferred required

Since having children, my stance on many parenting issues has changed drastically. It makes perfect sense, right? It is so easy to say what we would do in a situation when have never experienced that situation. Especially when aforementioned situation may involve things we couldn’t possibly understand until we experience them: months of sleep deprivation, cracked nipples, third degree tears, colic, spirited/high needs behavior, post partum depression, being responsible for a teeny, tiny, helpless human being, and did I mention sleep deprivation?

There is a long distance between books on parenting and the reality of parenting. Of course, I don’t know why society makes parenting out to be the stuff Hallmark cards are made out of. My only guess is to insure the survival of the human race because let’s be honest, if we knew how horrible some parenting moments can be- especially those first days and weeks with the first baby- would we really even have the first kid?

I know people tried to warn me that new mothering was not the warm fuzzy scene you see on television and in advertisements. Bringing home an infant does not suddenly create a warm, gauzy glow in your home where you walk around in total bliss wearing a long, white, flowing gown with a teeny, peaches and cream infant who- between nursing perfectly for 15 minutes on each side every 3 hours- sleeps deeply on its back in a crib in its own room while you catnap throughout the day because not only does your home have a warm, gauzy glow, it is also self cleaning. I know I realized the mothering would be difficult. I knew that babies cried and breastfeeding could be hard and I would definitely be lacking in the sleep department but I never realized how overwhelming- physically and mentally- new motherhood could be. I had no idea that this newfound responsibility would weigh so heavily on my chest that there were moments I thought I was taking my last breath. I never knew something so wonderful could hurt so bad.

I think another mechanism for the survival of the human race is that by the time our first baby reaches toddlerhood and the Zoloft has kicked in and our nipples and hoo hahs have completely healed, we begin to forget about those traumatic first days and months. I know I did. I remember sobbing when Gavin was about 5 weeks old and when Lloyd asked me what was wrong I told him “I always wanted two children and this is so hard that I don’t think I can have anymore!!!!”. By the time Gavin was11 months old I was pregnant again and while I was shocked, I was ecstatic. Unfortunately I miscarried that baby at 12 weeks but fortunately, I got pregnant with Goosers three months later.

So how have my views changed?

Before having kids I was anti-pacifier. Ugh. I hated the way they looked and I thought they were used to plug up the kid’s piehole so the parents didn’t have to hear them or deal with them. I had no idea that kids could have such a strong need to suck and that pacifiers may be totally necessary. It only took 2 weeks for me to learn how very wrong I was and to start shoving soothie after soothie into Gavin’s mouth just so I could take a pee break without him losing his freaking mind.

I also used to give the big fat eye roll to parents who gave their kids snacks as they shopped or even worse, opened a bag of snacks before purchasing them to ward off the impending middle of the story meltdown with the salty, cheesy goodness that is the goldfish cracker. Now? I'd give my kid a line of coke to be able to buy tampons and milk without dragging their screaming, writhing bodies down the grocery store aisles for all the world to give me big, fat eyerolls for having uncontrollable children.

Cosleeping. I always thought parents who coslept were out of their minds and now that I have coslept with two children, I STILL think that parents who cosleep are out of their minds. Or at the very least enjoy insomnia and the resultng crippling dementia that comes with it. I coslept because it made night time nursing easier and both of my kids wanted to cosleep. They slept much better snuggled next to me while I wept over sore nipples and aching hips from remaining in one position all night. There were a few moments of bliss when were snuggled sweetly together in the wee hours of the morning while I smelled their sweet baby smell and just knew that somewhere out there another mom was doing this very same thing with her baby and all the world was right. Those moments were fleeting and could have very well occurred during the day after I got a full nights rest while sleeping in any position I damn well pleased.

Something I have always been passionate about is breastfeeding. Obviously nutrition is my thang- pediatric nutrition even moreso- so it makes sense that it wouldn’t take having kids for me to know that breastfeeding was where it’s at when it comes to feeding our babes. I grew up knowing that breasts were for breastfeeding (I come from a long like of A-cup women… what else could they be for?) and part of my education involved community nutrition and promoting breastfeeding via WIC.

I have only become more passionate about breastfeeding since having children but now I am more understanding of the barriers and obstacles to breastfeeding. I was unable to breastfeed Gavin for as long as I would have liked. I was never anti-formula but before having to formula feed, I never imagined that I would formula feed. I figured other people had their reasons for formula feeding; that they didn’t want to breastfeed. I never knew that women could want to breastfeed but be unable; whether because of physical or mental issues or lack of knowledge and support. I am more passionate now because I don’t want any woman to experience the heartbreak I experienced when I was unable to nourish and nurture my child the way I wanted.

Another issue I am much more passionate about since having children is circumcision. I am rabidly anti-routine infant circumcision. Obviously there are times when circumcision may be medically indicated or when a person’s faith dictates circumcision as necessary but routine infant circumcision? Never appropriate. I am generally the kind of a person who can see both sides of an issue but not on this one. I respect that every parent has the right to make their own decision regarding whether or not to circumcise their son but I can honestly say that there is no reason- other than religious or medical reasons- for circumcision that I agree with.

What’s ironic is that Gavin is circumcised… and I regret it with every cell in my body. It has been over three years and I don’t know how I will ever come to terms with the fact I subjected him to genital mutilation for absolutely NO reason. I did not do my homework before having Gavin and I thought circumcision was just routine- just a standard part of having a boy in America. I figured there must be some pros to circumcision or else they wouldn’t do it. Hell, I also figured they used adequate pain relief. I was totally and completely WRONG on two counts. Again, my passion not only stems from the fact that upon becoming educated I realized that circumcision is wrong but also because if I can help one person from putting their child through what Gavin went through and what we continue to go through then something good came out of something awful and that brings a little peace.

How have you changed?

Breastfeeding: Vodka for toddlers

I posted this on Babycenter but I thought I would share it here:

Ever since I was pregnant with Gavin, I educated myself on the ins and outs of breastfeeding. Not only from a nutritional standpoint but also from from a comfort/nurturing standpoint. I always said I would breastfeed the Gavinator until he was two because that was what the WHO recommended but I never truly understood what it could mean to extended breastfeed (EBF).

So, after I was unable to breastfeed the Gavinator beyond 8 weeks, I threw myself into learning all there what to know about breastfeeding from books, magazines, La Leche League, the internet, and mostly, from the women on the Feeding Choices Debate Board. I was fascinated by EBFing. Sure, I had always said I would EBF Gavin until two but I had never heard of nursing as a "parenting tool" or "nursing for comfort". I remember the first time I read on the FC Debate Board that a poster calmed her toddler during a tantrum by nursing and I was all "but wait a minute, isn't that the same as rewarding with food?" I wasn't being snarky, I just didn't understand.

So, after the Goose was born and I was able to BF her, I didn't see breastfeeding as being very different from bottle feeding other than the obvious (real nipple instead of silicone, pumping at work, BM versus formula, etc...). The biggest difference in bottle feeding Gavin and breastfeeding Goose is that Gavin weaned from the bottle at 11 months and at 14 months, Goosers is still nursing strong. Also, Gavin never really took a soothie and he totally gave it up when he quit the bottle whereas Goose is all about the boobies at 14 months. I never got to experience the transition to toddlerhood with a bottle/soothie but I am with breastfeeding.

In my opinion, with the exception of the random fits to get to the milkies NOW, this is by far the most enjoyable time for us with nursing. It is a far different experience (for us, anyway) to nurse for solely nutrition/complimentary nutrition versus mostly comfort with some complimentary nutrition thrown in there.

I'm a fan of the mostly comfort with some complimentary nutrition.

I keep having these ah-hah moments.... so that's what so and so was talking about...so that's what they mean about nursing for comfort.... so yes, it can be used to shorten a meltdown! Sometimes Grace will come up to me with her face all scrunched up and looking totally stressed and exasperated and she'll nurse for a few minutes and then leave my lap a brand new toddler. Apparently nursing does for her what vodka does for me.

Anyhoo, last night I was reading LLL's New Beginnings and there is an article in there (page 166) on adoptive Bfing. A woman adopted a ten month old girl (after ebfing her own son for 15 months) and after preparing to relactate for months before the adoption and then continuing for months afterwards by pumping and using an SNS, the adopted child nursed for the first time at 19 months and is still going strong at 3 years.

There was a time I would have read that article and outwardly I would have given my standard pc "different strokes for different folks" or even a "HUH??" but inwardly I would have been "holy crap, you freakin' hippie! Is a couple of ounces of BM even worth it???"

But now I have much more insight into what EBFing actually is and I can understand where this mother is coming from and why. For this mom who had ebf, not ebfing this child would be like not being able to mother how she knows how to mother. If that makes sense. That's NOT to say that adopted children who aren't BF or children who are not BF are somehow disadvantaged. It is more than milk... that's all.

It is such a natural part of mothering (very much like hugging and snuggling... although unfortunately, ebfing doesn't always come as naturally) and Grace doesn't appear to just want to nurse... it is like she needs to nurse. While I don't nurse Gavin, I can liken it to hugs. Gavin loves hugs. He loves snuggling. He needs hugs. It is natural to me to hug him. Most people can and do hug their children but not everyone is familiar with ebfing having never experienced it so I can see where the confusion comes from.

Long story short, I just wanted to say that "ah-hah". I finally get it. I'm glad I got the chance.


Side note: I would like to mention that I finally geeked out pimped out myspace so be sure to check it out. Also, did you catch my mention over at BloggingBaby? Perhaps that will make up for Mycrack.

Double threat

Our beach trip was fairly awesome. It was nice to get out of town with the family and take in the sun and the sand on the South Carolina coast. I have to admit to being a compete and total cheeseball by tearing up a time or two over the fact I was sharing with MY family something my own parents (and after the divorce, my dad) shared with ME for so many years. In all my cheeseball glory I recounted tale after tale to the husband and the kids of my quarter of a century worth of Myrtle Beach memories. I have a sneaking suspicion I sounded all too much like that chick from American Pie with her whole "this one time, at band camp...". Instead I was all "this one time, at Myrtle Beach...".

I rode the rides with Gavin like my own mom did with me way back in the day and I took the kids out for a treat to Kirk's Ice Cream Parlor and ordered the same thing I have ordered for almost every summer for as long as I can remember: peanut butter cup ice cream with marshmallow topping. I get a cavity just typing out my standard fare but there is something so scrumptious about peanut butter and chocolate all rolled together with the WORLD'S BEST marshmallowy goodness (and keep in mind, I'm a registered dietitian so I'm an "expert" on all things marshmallowy and goodness related) that has rocked my world for the past 25 years. If you ever venture out to the Redneck Riviera, might I recommend Kirk's peanut butter cup with marshmallow topping. Oh, and don't forget to pack a clean pair of underpants. It's THAT good.

There were two things that not only surprised but were also totally the me of right now on the trip- no nostalgia and/or warm and fuzzy memories required- and they came in the form of threats I made several times during our brief stay.

I threatened to wean the Goose. Although, from here on out she may be referred to as "she who desires to suck the life and soul out of her mother via her nipples one breastfeeding session after breastfeeding session after breastfeeing session after breastfeeding session after....". Well, her new name may be a bit too long so I'll continue to refer to her as the Goose but you get the point: homegirl is BOOB CRAZY!!! She isn't boob crazy in that "oh, how sweet my little nursling needs the comfort and nutrition of mama's milkies" or "isn't extended breastfeeding a wonderful parenting tool" kind of way. She is boob crazy in the "woman, give me the titties RIGHT NOW or I will continue to writhe and scream and jam my hands down your top and twiddle your nipples until I get a boobie in my mouth for the next hour or so and don't bother watching the clock because I will let you know when I am finished" kind of way.

Holy smokes. I don't know if it was because the boobages were so out there because I was sporting a bikini top most of the time or because she was completely taking advantage of her extra time with mama on vacation but she about drove me NUTS! She nursed 6 or 7 times a day and even woke during the night for nursing. If I tried to hand her off to the husband she lost her mind and the only way she would retain some semblance of normalcy and not scream 24 hours a day was to allow her access to the milkies at all times.

Obviously I'm not going to wean her but if our life at home were to become anywhere close to our life at the beach (i.e. boobies in mouth/hand at all times), I would totally begin to encourage weaning. I can't live like that. I can't. I can't... I can't... I can't.

I also threatened to divorce the husband. I haven't talked about it a lot on here or on Babycenter but the husband and I have hit a rough patch. Long story short, we never have "us time", our sex life is non-existant, and we are both so exhausted and so on edge from raising the high needs Gavinator and the boob-addicted Goose that if we aren't sleeping, we're ripping each other's heads off.

It's hard. I know we're not living a life any different from any other parents to two very young children but we are working opposite schedules to keep the kids out of daycare and we never get a break. What's worse is that I don't think we want a break. We are both totally addicted to our kids and want to be with them at all times but let's face it, people need breaks. We NEED breaks regardless of whether or not we WANT breaks. I have figured out from the two nights away from the kids (when I went downtown and when I played tennis) that when I do a little for me, I can do a lot better for them.

It's like the old airplane analogy when in case of an emergency, the adult is to put their oxygen masks on BEFORE putting the masks on their children. It's not selfish. It's not wrong to out our masks on first. We need to put our masks on so we can help our children. Well, we've been experiencing a major emergency for some time and we continue to put the masks on our kids first failing to take care of ourselves. We need to take care of ourselves first otherwise we're all going to end up oxygen deprived.

Ok, I took that analogy a little too far. We have plenty of oxygen (unless if in the analogy sex is oxygen then we are soooooo out of oxygen) but you get the point.

The husband I stormed off from each other at Broadway at the Beach after I told him "I hate you" and that when we get home "we need to settle our accounts". He took Gavin and I took Grace and we spent our Thursday night separately. It wasn't lost on me that four years ago at Broadway at the Beach we were partying with our friends Emily and Johnny, making out in bars, and pretty much couldn't keep our hands off of each other. Now we are tired shadows of our former selves so hell-bent on making a vacation to remember for our kids that we failed in the most important aspect: each other. A family vacation isn't hotel reservations or trips to the aquarium or even orgasm-envoking ice cream; it's the family being together and when we're storimg off in different directions with a kid a piece, we have definitely lost sight of what is important.

We're going to be okay. I love him more than anything in this world. He came up and kissed my cheek and my neck this evening and I got the same old goosebumps that I got four years ago. I've been working on doing for me over the past few months and now we need to work on doing for each other. It's just so hard. We think we're doing it all right by putting the kids first and in a sense, we are but we've lost balance and we need to find it. I'm not sure how we are going to find that balance but when we do, you'll be the first to know. We're up for the challenge. For the kids but especially for ourselves.