A little bit about breastfeeding:

It is the absolute best. Once OG got her P’s and Q’s together and figured out how to eat, we’ve been crushing it. I love that I don’t have to bring bottles everywhere, I love that she eats quickly (albeit noisily like a pig snarfling around in slop), I love that her little legs kick in excitement when she sees my boob come out (ok that’s a little weird), I love that I can feed her anywhere, any time, and under almost any circumstance with minimal effort. I love that it’s free! I love that no matter what I’m doing, or how gross and fat and junk foodie I’m being, my body keeps making perfect delicious and nutritious food for her without prompting. I love that I lost most of my baby weight in like a week and that I can eat like a suckling sow and not gain anything. I love that we get to spend that time together each day and night, I love that she sometimes stops eating and pops off the teet to grin at me like a creepy weirdo with milk dripping down her fat little cheeks. I love that although at first this definitely did not seem like a natural thing in the slightest, once we got the hang of it, it really does seem like the most natural thing in the world.

HOWEVER. Where we are at now did not come easily. In fact, it sucked major balls and believe me when I say I had my little paw half in the formula can multiple times a day while we were working out these kinks. I must have said to Gates at least a million times that I totally get why people use formula from the beginning, and I definitely get why people give up on breastfeeding and switch to formula when stuff gets rocky. There was a stretch of probably 4 weeks in there where she was literally eating every hour or more around the clock and I kept thinking, “Ok, this is it, I just can’t do it anymore, I am literally going to die if she doesn’t give me a break…”, and there were much snuffling and many tears, and quite a few ugly cries, and I am really not sure why I kept going, but I think maybe I had this feeling deep down that it was going to get better… and when it did it was glorious. I’ve also been totally OMG amazingly freaking unbelievably lucky that I haven’t had any pain or discomfort with breastfeeding at all, especially considering she was on my nip so often without breaks. When I hear people talk about bleeding and cracked nipples, and mastitis, and painful latches, and all sorts of other terrors I feel like I really didn’t even have it that bad, when I thought that things were really bad. The most uncomfortable I’ve been is when the little starfish sleeps so long (like a whopping 3 hours) that my boobs are like WHAT IS HAPPENING WHERE IS THE BABY and become porn-star giant while I sleep and then spring a leak and I wake up drenched in milk and cleavage. Not too shabby.

ALSO – I’ve never had anyone shame me while breastfeeding in public. Especially in the hormone crazed early days, I really don’t know how I would have handled that. I probably would have just wrapped the baby up in a napkin and left her Moses in the reeds style on the shamer’s table and ran for the woods. In the early days you are literally insane, and you are just doing your best to keep your screaming demon alive, and if you do decide to brace the outside world and enjoy a moment or two in public – you are already filled with mega panic about poop blowouts, or inconsolable baby meltdowns, or spit up disasters, etc etc, and you are probably hardly even enjoying your moment wherever you are, because you are either praying your kid doesn’t wake up and start screaming, or you are fitfully trying to get them to keep their damn pacifier in their mouth so they won’t start screaming, and even if you timed it absolutely perfectly with the baby being diaper changed and fed literally right before you left for your destination (this is a real feat and you should absolutely reward yourself accordingly when achieved), babies will be stupid babies – and sometimes no matter how recently they just ate, when they are hungry they are hungry dammit so unless you think the restaurant (or store, bar, coffee shop, etc) full of people would be cool listening to a baby screeching for the remainder of your time there, you better be getting the hungry baby some food ASAP. Now, I’m not on some pro-public breastfeeding mission in life. I have no problem doing it, but I also would rather not have to feed the kid at all when I’m trying to enjoy a lunch of pork belly poutine and a beer at 10 o’clock in the morning. But I do think it is ridiculous how many people care or are bothered by public breastfeeding, yes, absolutely. Why does anyone even notice someone breastfeeding their kid… like are you that bored doing whatever you’re doing that your eyes scan a room looking for a frantic and embarrassed mother trying desperately to provide nourishment for their starving and screaming child so that you can tell them how offensive you find it? I’ve heard many stories from friends about horrible things strangers have said to them while they breastfed, and I thank my lucky stars we live in Bayview, where nearly everyone is a liberal hippie, there is a taco truck on every corner, and I could pull my girls out pretty much anywhere breastfeeding or not and probably no one would bat an eye. I’ve breastfed OG in almost every bar and restaurant around Bayview that we frequent and we’ve gotten nary a stare. It’s awesome. And for anyone out there who is thinking, why don’t you just bring a bottle of pumped milk to feed her in public and avoid this entire narrative: 1) We do and we have, but guess what you can’t do while feeding a bottle to a baby? Use your hands. Aka drink dat beer. 2) She takes FOREVER with her bottle and she also hates it, so it is much more of a production for me to try to force that on to her than to just slip her under my shirt for a quick graze. And 3) All her fussing trying to refuse a bottle  makes me sad, which makes my hormones prepare for battle, which causes me to leak breastmilk like crazy. That is not a fun situation for having to walk outside on a balmy Wisconsin winter below zero day. Surprisingly, and sadly, the only people who have made negative comments to me about breastfeeding are people who are not strangers. If only they knew literally how little I care about literally anything literally anyone says.

IN CONCLUSION:

Breastfeeding was way harder to master than I ever imagined and so kudos are due to everyone I know who has done it. Thanks Mom, for breastfeeding all 5 of us. It’s a full time second job, and by Fred you already had 4 other full time jobs – so, what I’m trying to say is – DAMN, GIRL! And for anyone reading this who is rolling their eyes and thinking this whole thing I’m writing about is dumb – it probably is, but you probably are too.

WHEW, now that that’s off my chest – LITERALLY – BAHAHAHAHAHA – we can talk about other things that no one cares about.

For instance: in an effort to get back to a point in my life where I am not winded moving from a sitting to standing position, and because this is the most accurate meme of my life-

– I bought a package of workouts and shakes that you always see people peddling on Facebook. Even though I roll my eyes constantly with every invite I get to yet another stick on nail/neon patterned legging/skin clearing solution/sex toy bonanza/magic skinny pill solution online event/”party”, I do think it is pretty cool that I know a few people who have turned their online herbs and spices sales into an actual business that generates income… sometimes I imagine what sort of thing I could do online to make a little extra cash… but I can think of like maybe a maximum of 3 people who would pay me to do something like write a customized inappropriate poem for them. Or would buy a book of the hilarious lyrics that I have written to the tune of popular nursery rhymes/lullabies. I didn’t actually do that intending to be clever, I just have a terrible memory for those and it happened out of necessity. Baby clam loves the songs I sing to her, but they are going to need a quick censor in about 6 months when she starts working on her verbal skills… A little taste:

Here we go round the mullberry bush, the mullberry bush, the mullberry bush,

Here we go round the mullberry bush, I’m going to fucking kill the dogggggy!

                     

Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock –

The clock struck 3, I have to pee,

Please go the hell to SLEEEEEP!

                                          

And that all time classical French tune Frère Jacques –

Little lady, little lady, poopy pants, poopy pants, 

Mommy needs a cocktail, mommy needs a cocktail, 

Bagger Vance, Bagger Vance. 

 Little one went to a trial day at daycare so we could make sure it was a good fit. What that means, I have no idea… it’s not like kid can express her opinion about it, and was the daycare provider going to be like, “I’m sorry ma’am, but this baby is too much of a baby for me to babysit… and I don’t care for her Bernie Sanders onesies”. Even though we had met her a few times before, it was bizarre and scary leaving her for the day with a nice stranger from Craigslist. I pretended like I was on my way to work so I could make sure the timing would be okay for the real deal and then guilt shopped $200 worth of baby clothes at Kohl’s. I picked up around the house, I pumped, I did laundry, I packed for our trip to Minneapolis, I did my best not to stress or worry about her, finally looked at the clock and like 45 minutes of the day had passed. Everyone kept telling me – go do something for yourself! But what does that mean like am I even a person anymore… do I like things? In the end I settled on having my eyebrows abused by the nice Indian lady down the block and sat down for a gourmet meal straight from my college days:

I took a shower so long that I felt the shame of every water starved nation in absolutely every fiber of my warm and relaxed body, and I counted down the minutes until I could go pick her up. And of course the day went great and OG was loved on all day and within an hour of being home I was ready for a break again. Lol, such is life.

We took our longest car trip yet and beeb was a freaking CHAMP in the car as per usual. She slept literally the entire time we were in the car, so we woke her up to eat about halfway to the cities and on our return trip in exotic Tomah, WI – where there are TWO Kwik Trips on the same block, which tickles me to no end. Minneapolis was the perfect weekend getaway – and OG was able to meet her remaining 2 uncles who hadn’t yet been blessed by her presence. She went to the Mall of America, she screamed for Nana and Papa while they babysat and we went to an Improv show, she met the last of our Framily and checked Surly off her brewery bucket list, she witnessed that unbelievable field goal by Mason Crosby, and she did not wake up a single person in the household besides me for feedings both nights we were there. Impressive beyond belief.

I decided we were going to get her to enjoy being babyworn, so we could get out and about without the stroller in the delightfully globally warmed January weather. Many YouTube videos later and after much screaming on her end, I think we finally sort of have a hold that she will tolerate. Have you ever used one of these?? LOOK AT THIS MADDNESS:

The wrap is basically a long AF expensive piece of fabric. It is literally the length of our living room. And somehow you finagle it to carry your child around in. Bizarre. But we kinda, sorta, get it. And it has been way easier to manage her in that thing on a walk with our crazy dog than with the stroller.

Look at me, sort of momming all over the place!

And here we are in my last week of maternity leave! Cannot believe how fast that flew, but totally loving life with a 3 month old. She is just the coolest little person! Way cooler than she was as a scrawny, screaming newborn… shhh don’t tell her.