Week 10: The Eat Beast Cometh

14 pounds, 7 ounces. That's what breast milk will do for you. This is nature's protein shake. (My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard? No? Ok. I'll stop.)

Desmond went in for his two-month checkup: Everything is as it should be and he is growing gigantically. Measuring in at over 23 inches he is nearly as tall as his best buddy, Jake, who is six months older.  He has grown out of almost all the 0-3 clothes and earned the nickname "Eat Beast".

The stats:

Date		Visit		Weight
6/17/2011		Birth		9 pounds 4.8 oz
21-Jun		First Dr. Visit		9 pounds 2 oz
7/6/2011		Second Dr. Visit		9 pounds 12 oz
29-Jul		Visit to midwives		10 pounds 11 oz
8/24/2011		Two Month Well Baby Visit		14 pounds 7 oz

I make mommy's arms tired.

TWO MONTHS!

Two whole months have flown by and every time I turn around Desmond is bigger. We have gotten the hang of this breastfeeding thing, have gotten used to the cushy cloth diapers and have come to agree that zippers are far superior to snaps on clothes when one party involved wants to get the baby dressed, already, and the other one wants to wiggle. 

Sleep, and creating a routine for sleep is the next big hurdle.  I won't be going back to work for a few more weeks and though getting the fella to sleep is sometimes a challenge, Des and I are equally lazy in the morning and have shared the sofa for many a mid-morning nap. Laziness seems to be hereditary.

 

Week 7: Sweden, Babywearing and Dads

If we lived in Sweden, I wouldn't be going back to work for a long time.  This past week NPR ran a story about maternity leave around the word, (a map can be found here) and if we were to reside in Stockholm, we would be entitled to benefits that can cover up to 480 calendar days. Two months are reserved for the father. Not bad.

I have been having a lot of conversations about the division of labor when there is a newborn at home and everyone seems to agree: Moms have to to the bulk of the work where baby is concerned. The pregnancy part, the delivery, the breastfeeding part, it just seems to work out this way. This naturally leaves some new dads wondering where they fit in, but things are about to change, thanks to one Tom F, husband of one of my oldest friends.

Mr. F. is father to two beautiful kids, both under age 5. He was quick to pick up on the fact that caring for a newborn is very mom-centered and watched as his wife carried their kiddos around in an baby sling. I can do that, he thought and strapped on the baby carrier and quickly renamed it: the DUDE-terus! Figuring this was the closest he would come to knowing what carrying an infant is like Mr. F. happily wore both of his children.

Hearing this, Rob strapped on Desmond this weekend and quickly realized what I had known for weeks already: its really hard to sit down to a meal and not drop food on the baby's head. That is why the baby gets a bath before bed, so we can get the salad dressing out of his hair and the crumbs from behind his ears.

And the carrier we use, why, its called a Baby Bjorn, and comes from of all places, Sweden.

Week 5: The Taste of Breast Milk

No, I have not taken the time to sample my own breastmilk, and I can't really tell you what it tastes like, despite the fact that Desmond has projectile vomited into my mouth. (If you want an answer, though, keep reading.)  I am not one of those poor women stopped by the TSA and forced to drink the baby's only food source, nor am I one of those people who rushed to the chance to try Breast Milk Ice Cream.  My dairy products, as strange as it is when you really take the time to think about it, will continue to come from the cow.

Breast feeding is HARD WORK. If you have done it, I commend you. If you haven't and you plan to, I am not trying to discourage you, (do it! Its the best thing for you and your baby and I am six weeks post-postpartum and I haven't been this skinny since I don't know when. I have to buy new pants as none of my old clothes fit!) but there is a reality to the whole mess:

1. There will be a teacup sized human latched onto your body for hours everyday and well into the wee hours of the morning.  The word "latched" makes me think of this.

2. Breast pumps are medieval torture devices. They are loud, they can be uncomfortable and if I wasn't spending so much time with the babe stuck to my boob I might be one of those enterprising mommy-tycoons that reinvents this for the good of humanity. 

3. Everyone can choose when to wean their kids.  In my mind, when Desmond is old enough to walk over to me and request a boob using multiple words to express his desire he should be cut off.  I'm talking to you, lady at the DMV who was unable to fill out your paperwork because your kindergartner was attached to you by the face.

4. Props to the La Leche League for championing and promoting breast feeding; However when you live in a conservative backwater as I do there are plenty of people who will give you the stinkeye as you try to discreetly feed the baby anywhere outside your own home. The thought of a BREAST or a NIPPLE potentially exposed in PUBLIC! My God, won't someone think of the children!

Which brings me here:  While at a cookout at a friends home this weekend I excused myself to discreetly feed Desmond on a porch swing and was shortly surrounded and kept company by a bunch of ladies who are all moms and who had also breastfed in their day. They gave me tips, encouragement and told me how they all coped being home with their newborn children. 

One close friend told me that her son (who is now my age) nursed well into his second year.  When asked by another child who either was not breast-fed or was too small to remember, "what does it taste like?" my pre-school aged friend responded after a thoughtful pause, "It tastes like sugar and rainbows!"

One Month Old!

Desmond is a whole month old today!

In celebration here is a list of things Des loves:

• Warm baths
• Poking himself in the eyes
• Boob
• Binky
• Making faces
• Staring at the ceiling fan

Also, there are those things that don't appeal:

• Being naked
• Cold water/cold wet wipes
• Rollerblading
• Mani/Pedis
• Pop Country
• Cilantro

You can't win them all, I guess.

Week 3: Pictures!

This was a busy week for Desmond: Weekend visit from one grandma, a photo shoot with the other Grandma and family, a dip in a pool, a cookout, lunch dates, making new friends, grabbing my hair, and (still) constant eating. Check out a few of the highlights taken by Rob's Aunt Marion- pictures are better than anytthing I can report on...

Week 2: Eat, Play, Love.

 Desmond is spending July 4th weekend doing some of his favorite things:
eating, napping, eating, visiting friends, eating, sticking his fingers in his mouth when hes not eating, hiccuping, making eyes at the ladies and eating.


Desmond is already above his birth weight and doing well. His belly-button stump has fallen off (a yucky process this- the little brown thing that fell off the baby will forever be known as 'baby jerky',) and sleeps long enough that neither Rob or I are total basket cases.


As far as being a nursing mom: I was hungry when I was pregnant, but nothing like this; I have seriously considered getting in the car at three AM to find a cheese-steak sub.  Also, I never thought I might welcome having a third nipple.