Thursday, January 28, 2010

I frequently drop food on my baby

It's a hazard of breastfeeding. And let's be honest: he does it to himself.

Seriously, he has all day - and all night too - to snack and nibble whenever he likes. I even make it easy for him by wearing these quick-snap nursing bras and fancy shirts with holes in them.

So, of course, he waits until dinner (or breakfast or lunch) is just being served, tasty and hot, my mouth watering (because if you've ever been a breastfeeding mom you know how hungry you can be). He waits until just this moment to be milk fussy. The kind of unrelentingly fussy that can only be quieted by a boob in his little mouth.

I'm left with no choice but to feed him. Promptly. Lest our dinner be accompanied by whiny shrieks and crying. The thing is, I don't mind. No big deal. We're pro at this now after all. Latch on there kiddo!. Go to town! But don't expect me to postpone my dinner.

And this is when the spilling starts. It depends on what I'm eating, but as a rule, the more red the meal, the more of it I will spill. The other day it was chili. Directly onto Sam's nose and my white nursing bra. He didn't seem to mind. Most times the dribbles and spills just end up on his jammies. No harm done. Though I've lost some of my precious food.

I think I will have to patent a bib for nursing moms. To protect our babies while we eat. Look for it at retailers near you : )

Sunday, January 24, 2010

How friday nights have changed

I am starting this blog in honour of my (and my husband's) recent inauguration into parenthood.

I did not keep a pregnancy journal, nor do I keep a baby journal (I've already missed documenting the milestones of Sam's first smile, laugh, roll over), but the more I think about it, the more I realize that there are certain things I want to remember about these gorgeous days of Sam's early life. Or maybe I just want to share all the little observances and daily minutia that I find so incredibly lovable, and laughable (and my friends are tired of hearing about them).

** there is a fabulously funny stand-up sketch by comedian David Cross where he bemoans the loss of his friendship with a buddy who recently had a kid - "I'll stare at grapes with you!! WTF happened to our friendship, man?!?" **

Anyway - I was never a particularly rowdy girl. I've been with my high school sweetheart for 13 years and we are fairly settled, though social, people. We live in the 'burbs; we're both professionals; we like wine but don't drink or party excessively.

A Friday night 10 years ago would have seen us out at a movie theatre enjoying the latest Bruckheimer action flick. Sans wine.

Seven years ago I was deep into nursing school, writing papers every night of the week, including Friday. Enjoying wine regularly.

Five years ago I was working five out of every 10 Friday nights at the Children's Hospital. Once again sans wine.

We might have spent a Friday night two years ago at a hockey game or concert drinking wine from plastic cups.

On a Friday night almost exactly one year ago I was enjoying dinner with friends hoping that no one noticed I was avoiding the wine as I had just that day found out I was pregnant.

And Friday of last week saw us gleeful over a baby in bed by 7:30, a bowl of popcorn, and an anticipated bedtime of 10:30 for ourselves. There was no wine that night, but there is some in the cupboard!

We're tired and broke, but overall I don't feel like we've changed all that much - even if our Friday nights have.

If you decide to follow this blog, you can look froward to posts detailing my insights and anxieties as a new mom; some reflective posts on my pregnancy; and some reality checks regarding what kind of parent I thought I would be and the parent that I am becoming.

I'm not a professional writer by any stretch, but I hope to make the posts fun for me to write and funny for you to read. Maybe you're a fan of me and my little family personally, or maybe your another mom out there looking for someone with whom to relate. Either way, welcome! And Thanks for Reading : )

Oh - and here's a pic of my muse (being tickled just before his bath).