Fun with breastfeeding

Last night the family and a friend took the Gavinator to the fair for his birthday (tons of pictures to come very soon) and on our way home we stopped to get ice cream. I got kiddie cones for the kids and my friend got a giant, chocolate-y waffle cone. The Goose finished her kid cone in a nano-second and turned her eyes (and stomach) on her new best friend- the person with giant, chocolate-y waffle cone.

Goose leaned in for a giant bite out of the cone and put her entire face from nose to chin inside the waffle and right as she was was pulling her face out of the cone I was all "dude, her mouth was totally on my boob earlier. You know what's on your ice cream now? My boob."

Good times.



p.s. tons of Firm, preschool, and NYC trip updates to come!!!!

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.

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.

Lactivism at its finest

"Ewwwwwww! I can't believe you're still nursing her! She's almost two... she has teeth... that's just gross!"



"Yeah, well, you're gross."

Real moms don't always nurse

But sometimes they do.

This isn't part of the Real moms meme but in keeping with the theme (and my strong desire to show off my new favorite pictire!!):

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.

The file grows larger...

File this under things I never thought I would hear/say:



"Do you know what dingleberries are?"

"No, what?"

"You know, when poop gets stuck on your butt hair."

"Oh, yeah.... I hate that."




Tha little gem of a conversation was overheard at work!!!


Oh, and I was also sent an e-mail asking about extended breastfeeding that Blew. My. Mind.

You can read more about it here.

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.

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.

Just Doing My Part

To make sure that I don't kicked off any airplanes AND to make sure that everyone who reads this blog knows I have something shoved up my behind:



Dude, what is up with my face??

But more importantly, what is what with that ultra cool green and white polka-dotted thingy I have tied around my neck? That, my friends, is a lila bean; a stylish cover-up for nursing moms. The Lactivist was so kind to share that the makers of lila bean were looking for bloggers who breastfeed to share their product with for FREE!!

Now I haven't been much for nursing covers in the past but seeing as how I know there is a positive correlation between an increase in Grace's age and an increase in disapproval of breastfeeding among the ignorant masses, I thought it was time to look into something that would allow for Grace to have continued access to the boobages anytime and anywhere without people likening my feeding a child with my breast to showing my anus or to child abuse.

Enter lila bean.

It somes in a handy dandy carrying case so hopefully it won't go the way of my hotsling- battered and wrinkled at the bottom of the diaper bag coated in cheerios sludge- and it beats out the standard blanket by having an open collar so Grace will be surrounded by fabric but not covered. The need for a child to breathe while breastfeeding has been taken into account by the design team.




Now, if only lila bean could cure the major case of cooties in our house, we would go on an outing and take the lila bean on her first test drive.

I'll keep you posted!

Boobs on Planes

With all the hub-bub over the mom getting kicked off the Delta flight for breastfeeding her 22 month old child, it brings to mind the age old breastfeeding in public question:

What's the big fucking deal?

Honestly, folks, I dropped an eff-bomb so you know I'm fo real. Why do people have such a problem with a boob being used as nature intended? I know there is the whole boob=sex thing so if Beavis and Butthead want to sit over in the corner and "heh heh heh heh, dude, that baby is sucking on her boob, heh heh heh heh heh" while I nurse then fine; but adults offended by breastfeeding? I don't get it.

How is Sandra Bullock leaning over and showing off her obviously enhanced ta-tas more acceptable than a mother nursing a baby???. I bet if the woman who was asked to leave the flight for breastfeeding had been dressed like Sandra on the cover of Vanity Fair rather than breasfeeding she wouldn't have been asked to leave.

Double standard much?

What is interesting to me is that I uploaded some fabulous photos of the kiddos into Flickr over the weekend and as you all know, with Flickr, you can see how many times a photo has been viewed.

The beautiful profile of the Goose- viewed ten times

Brother and sister golden hair- viewed four times

My 16 month old nursing(and I enhanced the photo to the point that what small amount of small breast is shown is just a white blur)- viewed two hundred and eighty six times.

Women are getting kicked out of restaurants and off of airplanes for doing exactly what I was doing in that photo- supposedly because breastfeeding is gross and people shouldn't have to see it- but my photo has been viewed TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX times in less than a week.

What's with all the interest, folks?

Ogan-a-what?

The local news station is going to be at my house- AT. MY. HOUSE.- in 13 hours to interview me for a piece on organic baby food and extended breastfeeding!!!!!! I am fuh-reaking out.

Why am I freaking out? Four reasons:

For one, I talked to the chick at 5:00 pm today- TODAY.- to set this whole thing up

For two, all of a sudden I know nothing about nutrition and/or organic food

For three, I have NOTHING TO WEAR (help!!!! what do I wear!?!)

For four, my house smells like chihuahua pee!!!!


WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

She'll take her's to go

Tonight I was going through Grace's room looking for some of Gavin's old stuff to give to a coworker. Grace was "helping" me by going through all of the drawers in the changing table, throwing everything on the floor, and screaming when I put it all back.

Just as I was finishing up, Grace came across two Gerber pacifiers that I bought when the Gavinator was just a few weeks old. Gavin was never really into pacifiers but I was going crazy (and by crazy, I mean effing out of my mind nuts) having him attached to my boob 24/7 so the husband and I scoured Babies-R-Us for breastfeeding-safe pacifiers. We found the Gerber pacifiers that promised to mimic the mother's nipple and not interfere with breastfeeding so we bought them, boiled them, cooled and dried them, and offered them to the Gavinator who promptly spit them out. He never showed any interest at all in them even though the husband and I all but atempted to duct tape them to his mouth. Mimic a mother's nipples my ass... or so I thought.

I never even bothered introducing a pacifier to Grace but tonight, at the ripe old age of 16 months, she instanty fell head over heals in love with the two Gerber pacifiers. At first she just held them in her hands- she rolled them around and pinched and pulled at the "nipples"- and then she began sucking on one while "twiddling" the other. My first thought was that I felt REALLY sorry for the poor sap who was stuck nursing her and then, when I realized that her latch on the Gerber paci was the exact latch she used when nursing, my second thought was so sorry I ever doubted you, Gerber. Your pacis really do mimic the real deal Holyfield.

Grace ran around for a good half an hour sucking on one paci while twiddling the other. While the "girls" enjoyed the long overdue break (usually she is nursing on one and twiddling the other while attempting to run around), I think they were a little bit jealous. Just for kicks, I asked Grace if she wanted to nurse and she pushed me away and took off with her pacis.

Hmmmmmm, while I know that anecdote does not equal datum; I feel that my experience blows a big ol' hole in the breastfeeding = bonding theory. After 16 months of unlimited access to the boobages, just like that, the Goosers passed me up in favor of two dusty Gerber pacifiers.

I eventually took the pacifiers away which left her in one giant kicking and screaming puddle of Goose but at this stage in the game, I'm not going to encourage her to trade in one habit for another. Besides, I'm less portable so as she is gaining independence, she is losing interest (she has cut way back since my trip to KC) and hey, at least I provide some nutritional benefits.

Take that Gerber.

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?

KC and random thoughts

Two weeks from now I'll be landing in Kansas City and I am fuh-reaked out. Not so much because I'm all Nostradamus-like and predicting my demise in a fiery plance crash but because I have never, ever, ever, ever been away from my kiddos longer than an 8-9 hour work day. More importantly, the Goose has never been away from the boobs for longer than an 8-9 hour work day. I plan on bringing my trusty old Pump In Style for one last run to keep my milk supply up and prevent complications from having the boobages out of service for so long (at 15 months, the Goose still nurses 4-8 times a day) but I haven't pumped in 3 months and honestly, I find the idea of hooking myself up to the horns again to be rather daunting.

I pumped three times a day for ten months at work and there was never a pumping session that I didn't have pumping anxiety: will I respond to the pump, will I empty the breastedess, will I throw myself out the window after listening to the monontanous hum of the PIS for 20 minutes, and will I, in my cow-like glory, begin to chew my own curd after unhooking myself from the pump? Pumping still scares the bajeezies out of me and I'm not looking forward to it. I mean, how will the PIS feel about coming out of retirement? Let's take her feelings into account, shall we? I never dreamed when I decided to take this course in Kansas City that I would still be nursing this much and while it is a longshot, I can't help but worry that my absense will force the Goose to wean. I know I shouldn't be worried because she has gotten a ton o' breastmilk and either way it would be all good but I hate the idea of forcing it on her so I can further my career.

A career that strongly advocates breastfeeding yet encourages me to gain continuing education hours and maintain a professional portfolio in my area of expertise while putting the bread and butter (or is that olive oil?) on our table.

I'm also worried about the class. I just received the test booklet a couple weeks ago and the test booket is about as thick as this:



I passed the pretest with flying colors but I still need to complete all the activities, attend the class, and then pass the post-test before I become certified in pediatric and adolescent weight management. Of course you know, even with my certification, I will still need to provide a butt load of links before I make any claims over the Feeding Choices Debate Board. I wouldn't have it any other way, though!

I really hope I get to meet Abby when I'm in Kansas City!!!

I am worried about how the husband will handle my absence. Not that I think he will cry himself to sleep every night wondering why for art did his soul mate have to travel so far but how will he handle the monsters for three days straight with zero assistance? Will Gavin wind up in juvie? Will I come home to find the husband shirtless and rocking back and forth in the corner muutering to himself while Grace sucks on his teet because when push came to shove, she figured out how to induce lactation? Maybe I'm giving myself way to much credit but as someone who is venturing out of town solo with the kiddos tomorrow (and as the only one who has gone anywhere solo with the kids and spent an extended amount of time alone with them), I know how attractive crack cocaine and tequila shots can look after two days straight with the kids and no help. I can't imagine three days straight... and I have the boobs!

Some other random thoughts, has anyone heard The Killers new song? I. Am. Diggin'. It. So much so that it is my new profile song. I tend to try and stay away from popular music; instead opting for the likes of Leatherbag and Imogen Heap but I *heart* (sorry Jill) The Killers' new song.

Speaking of music, I gotta ask this question muy importante: are you a Delilah or a John Tesh Radio Show kind of love song person? We had this discussion at work and I am by far and away a Delilah kind of girl but I was markedly outnumbered by the John Tesh variety of love song addicts. Don't get me wrong, Delilah is so sugary sweet that she makes me want to eat my own vomit but damn if she doesn't have THE PERFECT SONG for every occasion and situation. She is like a lovesong Jedi. You don't beieve me? Test her. Call her up and tell her that your sister just died and you honored her dying wish and donated her organs and her heart was transplanted into a young man who- thanks to your sister- was able to win the gold medal in the Olympic long jump and you would like her to play a song to honor your sister and Delilah will play "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" by Celine Dion. Delilah is THAT good.

Shut up. You know what I'm talking about and you know you're one or the other. We all are.

So tell me, Delilah or John?