One of “Those Days”…

imageWe all have them, those days that make us want to pull our hair out or hide under the bed and cry while guzzling wine and stuffing chocolate in our mouths. It doesn’t mean we’re bad moms, or that we have bad kids. Life as a human isn’t perfect every moment. And, we are all human, and various things in life happen as a human. Imperfect, hair pulling, loud, messy life things.

imageIt’s one of those imperfect days in my house. My children slept in, and, silly me, I foolishly thought that this predicted cheery moods and smiling faces. No, no, not so much, not today anyway. It began with my son not even wanting to be put down while I went to the bathroom, sobbing in a crumpled heap as if I had abandoned him on a remote island, while in reality he was squeezed on the floor between my legs for barely 30 seconds while I attempted to pee with the force of Niagara Falls in order to get the job done as quickly as possible.

imageMy poor miserably teething daughter fell asleep again moments after she had awakened, and as the day would tell, nothing soothed her gums but boob, boob, and more boob. Don’t get me wrong, I love nursing, and I’m very thankful to be able to shove boobs in babies mouths when the going gets tough, but I’ve spent today in a confusing state of constant dehydration while my eyeballs simultaneously float out of my head from needing to pee while being stuck under constantly nursing babies, and I’m also quite sure my nipples are no longer nipples for they’ve been sucked into sore raw straws, or possibly they may even be gone altogether. Frankly, I’m afraid to look.

Moments ago my son was enthusiastically waving a baby wipe around (it’s better than the dirty diaper I discovered he was swashing around prior, thankfully not a poopy one), and my daughter was yodeling her best imitation of “I’m a banshee being hung by my toenails” while I changed her diaper with the urgency of an Indy 500 pit stop. Currently they are in blissfully quiet repose, on my boobs of course. imageThe playroom is a wreck, there’s dirty laundry hiding in more crannies than I’m willing to admit, and my sustenance today has been a weird mix of peanut butter and chugged water, but, as my family likes to say, it’s 5:00 somewhere and if wine is dehydrating I guess I’ll just have to drink some extra to compensate. Here’s to you, mamas, and those days that do eventually end. Cheers!

On the Nursing of Babes in Public

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imageWhen the twins were first born, I didn’t give much thought to the whole nursing in public thing. I did have to adjust quickly to feeding them in front of people as I went back to teaching three weeks postpartum (not out of preference) and at three weeks babies eat constantly. (Mine still seem to be doing that…but I digress). I used a cover while teaching and just sort of took it as it came. While aware of the #normalizebreastfeeding movement I didn’t give it much thought until later when I realized if I was to ever leave the house my exclusively breastfed babies were going to end up eating in front of a lot more people than just my students.

imageSo I invested in a second cover, this wonderful infinity scarf thing, and went on my merry way. It worked great, for a while, then my sweet nurslings started protesting the cover. They’d latch, get all comfy and the milk rolling, and then suddenly flail in panic like a crazed monkey with nine arms and there I was wet, vulnerable, exposed and squirting milk anywhere but my baby’s mouth while trying desperately to grab the cover that had somehow wrapped its way around my baby’s butt and my head. Not cool. I quickly realized it was time for Plan B. I tried the two shirt method. Instantly I had glorious results. While they would still pop off at the worst of times and I usually had a sliver of imageboob exposed (my daughter especially loves to hold the top shirt in the air and stare while she eats) I could quickly slide my top shirt down protecting my especially sensitive parts. Success.

While I did get a little psyched out reading the many horror stories shared on social media of nursing mamas getting shamed, having twins forced me to quickly change my mindset. Within a very short period of time, my boobs went from me perceiving them as a sacred and protected private part of my anatomy to a handy useful tool to be shoved in babies mouths at a moments notice no matter where I was or who was present. In short, I no longer gave a rats patoot.

imageYes I still use a cover when teaching and in situations where it’s not about me and might cause an issue (church, some weddings, etc) but now I nurse wherever, whenever, and I really do not care. Motherhood will force you to prioritize and let me tell you, my priority is my screaming baby not the general populace and their ever present opinion. And being a mommy, well it’s helped me take myself a LOT less seriously these days. I have fed these babies while walking through airports, festivals, in coffee shops, grocery shopping, on boats, in cars, while hiking, swimming and in pretty much every position and situation except standing on my head (which I have seen people do, but I am not that talented). imageThat much repetition of anything will get you over your nerves quickly. My boobs are for my babies, and my children matter more to me than anyone’s opinion.

And I’ve had a very positive experience for the most part. Just yesterday a woman approached me in Costco while I was feeding my daughter and told me I was a super hero. Of course I’ve received some negative looks and even some negative feedback from people I know, but for the most part it’s been smooth sailing. There will always be a naysayer, that’s life. No, I don’t go around flopping my boobs about freely and unrestrained, but once again, motherhood came through for me and shattered my previous idyllic and unrealistic mindset. The babies must eat, and short of me becoming a hermit, they’re going to eat in a vast majority of different places and in front of many different people.

imageAnd until we’re done nursing that means I’ll be feeding them in a zillion different situations. And really, what are we worried about? In a world of issues, how is nursing babies something that is worth picking on! If someone deems it worthy of their time to look down on me for nursing my baby I feel badly for them. Clearly they haven’t had a kiddo to rearrange their priorities enough. If my sitting on a park bench nursing my baby bothers you, go to the other side of the park. There are more benches. You can probably find someone else to stare at and condemn.

So go forth and feed those babies without fear, mamas. Your journey is about you and your baby, not anyone else. And really, if anyone is judging you for nourishing your child, clearly you’re not their problem.
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I Woke Up Like This?

imageMorning has been an adventure in my house this morning. I would love to paint you a blissful picture of me waking up, romantically tousled hair and smelling like the clean linen sheets I arose from. Perhaps I am peacefully having a lovely cup of steaming coffee, one baby nursing while the other plays. But realty is that my hair looks like a nest the birds abandoned, I have milk crusted in unmentionable places, and even my four month old son is afraid of my armpits. The coffee is cold, my daughter vomited on the bathroom floor, my son pooped in his bath, the cats are screaming because I forgot to buy their food yesterday and you don’t even want to know how long it is taking to make this post.

I will (hopefully) eventually shower soon, I’ll skip the mascara because who knows where that went, and I might even get to warm up that coffee.

A little chaotic? Sure, but that’s ok. I woke up like this.

Errands, well planned chaos?

imageGetting out of the house and in and out of stores has become a bit more challenging these days. I will readily admit that if it were both possible and economically reasonable I would probably order everything online and have it delivered to my door step. And by everything, I mean, everything. Is it possible to have a smooth trip running around town doing errands wth babies in tow? Of course! But, mildly put, today was not that day.

The fact is, most of the time my errands consist of speedy, sometimes loud and often chaotic, dashes in and out of stores. No longer do I walk the aisles, I bounce up and down them in an effort to soothe fussy babes, all while trying to remember why I went down that aisle in the first place. When the cashier asks the typical, “did you find everything ok?” I survey the pile of groceries that multiplied in a seemingly miraculous manner, “oh yes…” I reply, wondering why exactly I thought I needed 7 bags of cheese. Then the dreaded, “did you bring your own bags?” I respond with an embarrassed “well yes but no because I left them right inside the door as I was dashing my twins one by one to the car in a desperate effort to finally get out the door but don’t worry I will recycle these”. The cashier nods in a condescending manner, as if they’ve heard this story many times before. I want to say, look lady, YOU try remembering bags on your way out the door with two babies but instead I just smile and know that one day if they have children, they too will forget their bags at times.

Today my husband came with me for errands, and having two people wrangling two babies undeniably makes it infinitely easier. But even that cannot prevent the chaos that insists on presenting itself at times. Knowing well the baby hunger game, I fed and diaper changed both babies in the car immediately before attempting the quick shopping we had to do. This entailed popping into one store for some bandana baby bibs I been coveting, (ha, like I “pop” in and out of anywhere these days),  grabbing a few groceries and some food for the cats. Despite having been fed less than five minutes previously, my little girl decided to wail her heart out incessantly the minute I put her in the carrier, and no, I am not one of those blissfully talented souls who can feed in the baby carrier. My baby boy, who was being carried by my husband, was on one of his infamous ‘nap strikes’ and had also begun crying inconsolably.

We briefly considered throwing in the towel and going home, but decided since we were already there, to brave it and just go for it. And let me tell you, if you think people don’t look at you enough with twins, try walking around with WAILING twins. One bonus, folks do tend to let you cut in line at the cashier, probably out of a desire to have the screaming go away. You know what’s fun? Bouncing, shushing, and trying to check out all at once. It’s great fun, really. You can imagine the looks on the cashiers faces.

We did all make it home in one piece, the babies resumed their more cheerful demeanors, and all was far more calm than just an hour before. We had survived the outing and the nosy fellow shoppers who all forget the concept of personal space the minute they see a baby, but that is another story for another day.