Tag: nursing

End of the Nursing Epoch

Epoch ep·och (ˈe-pək, ˈe-ˌpäk) | an event or a time marked by an event that begins a new period or development | an extended period of time usually characterized by a distinctive development or by a memorable series of events | a division of geologic time less than a period and greater than an age

GeneNursing2013I knew the time was coming. And in many ways I was so very ready — to have my body back (more or less), to not be tied as intensely, as literally, to someone else. On a more practical note I am profoundly relieved to not have any more f*%#ing yeast infections on my nipples. Good times!

And yet, and yet … as I write this I feel the prickle of tears and have been a puddle of moodiness for the past couple of months as Gene weaned himself. And now it is complete. No more milk. He already forgets how to latch so when he tests out the boobs in a moment of half-sleep it feels weird for both of us and he smiles up at me and says, “done!” and snuggles in for huggy-loveies (how did I become the lady that says things like that?! But I did. Ah well.)

The end of an era, though “era” doesn’t seem like a big and juicy enough word for this event in my life. Inside it feels like a seismic shift, and the landscape of my body has altered quickly. My natural small-boob-ed-ness is returning, though things are settling a lot lower on the map of course! I walk around and feel freer, but also bereft. It’s evolution, I delight in Gene’s growth and enjoy his wee-man-ness as he finds his words and his sense of humour finds legs. He’ll be two years old in a few days. And yet.

Gene weaned in his own time, he was ready and he’s fine, I just need a little time to find my feet on the other side of this epoch in my life and body. Less than a period and greater than an age, I am ever grateful and powerfully changed for this time in my life.

A friend posted a link on Facebook to a lovely blog about mothering though somehow I found my way to this post accidentally, though so appropriately. It really moved me, it’s beautifully, hilariously written. Worth a read if you want some more on the topic.

Velcro Baby and Love Letters with a 4-year-old

A love letter “posted” in a bike basket full of flowers. All photos in this post by Lindsay Zier-Vogel, the Love Letterer herself!

 

 

I haven’t written specifically about the kids or the mothering in a while. We are truckin’ along and I am riding the ever shifting balance of being home with two energetic, gorgeous boys. Gene is now 9-months-old and he is suddenly Captain Velcro, meaning he’s stuck to me like glue every waking moment. He’s utterly content if he’s on me, but the minute I try to leave — and by leave, I mean to go, say, get the mail or make some lunch, something innocent and necessary like that — he’s panicing, weeping, wailing piercingly, heartrendingly. He falls asleep clutching a handful of my breast in case the food source should try and sneak off whilst he’s at rest! He’s realized in earnest that I can disappear and that he doesn’t know when I’ll be back. And this consciousness has led to paranoia on a grand scale! Of course it’s normal and good and I’m so glad to see him evolve, even if sometimes I find myself trying to go pee with an infant stuck to me, which is no easy feat. I surrender a lot these days and just lie on the floor or in bed and let him satellite around me, maybe fold laundry or read but often just be there (at the cost of cleanliness or order in the house, but this too shall pass!) We have lots of giggles and gazing sessions together and he continues to charm me silly.

Then there’s Rudi, now 4 years old. He’s suddenly so grown up! He’s still got his powerful will Will WILL intact but I am finding that the near constant butting of heads that we’ve been playing at for the past few months is easing up. He is more independent than ever, he makes his own toast now and is so proud to “make breakfast!” He is a little more logical, a little more worldly. He can wait when I ask him too, knowing that it won’t be interminable. And we are starting to have little moments of, for lack of a better way to put it, hanging out. As mom and son rather than mom and toddler. I take him out once in a while without Gene because even though I’m with both boys all day, my attention is divided and Gene usually gets more of me. So I jumped at the opportunity to take Rudi to go Love Lettering last week with my friend, the indomitable artist Lindsay Zier-Vogel.

Choosing his Love Lettering materials carefully.

The Love Lettering Project is a community arts project bringing love letters to strangers. Lindsay’s been at it for eight years now and gained all sorts of local and national attention last year. The project grows by leaps and bounds each year and I “love” it (a-ha-ha). This year, she’s setting up at various community events, inviting people to write a love letter to something they love about their city and then leave it anonymously for someone to find — which will surly brighten the days of all involved! Rudi and I went to The Avro in Toronto’s East end for PAL-SAC‘s (Post A Letter Social Activity Club) night hosting The Love Lettering Project. We chatted, he had water in a pint glass, worked diligently on a love letter to The Secret Park (which is near our house, but I can’t say where exactly, what with it being Secret and all) and chatted up the locals. Then we went for burnt-marshmallow ice cream at Ed’s. It was a good night!

Working oh-so carefully on his Love Letter to The Secret Park in Toronto. I love the white finger tips on his left hand!

I loved being able to chat with Rudi without the divided attention necessary when I’m  solo with the two boys. We are so much calmer together when we’re alone together. I think there’s a lesson in there for me somewhere! I’m sure it has a lot to do with my tension level. I am constantly amazed by what mirrors we are as parents. Rudi so often reflects how I am, and he’s got keen senses, because I can’t be faking calm, he’ll still pick up on the turmoil underneath if it’s there. So cheers to one-on-one dates with 4-year-olds, with sons, and cheers to love letters. And to velcro, can’t forget the velcro …

Love Letter accomplished and sealed. Now time for delivery …

Adventures in …

… BABY FOOD!

My little Gene-bean is now 6 1/2 months old. He’s been gnawing on veggies, toast crusts, fruit, hunks of meat, generally taste-testing anything we’re eating for the past few weeks. With his big brother Rudi, I did the widely perscribed and accepted intro to eating through a series of different cereal, but I found it oh so bland, boring, messy and altogther uninspired. So with Gene, we’re trying something different — he’s eating what we’re eating (within reason!).

I was making soup last week so I separated out some yams and turnips before fancying up my seasoning and blended them on their own. And then I borrowed a technique from my dear friend Angela: once blended, take a spoon and throw down “splats” (splat being the technical term in this highly technical and specific process, ahem) of blended veggies on a wax paper covered cookie sheet. Then freeze said splats, remove them from the sheet and have baby-sized splats stored in tupperware or freezer bags, ready to pop into a pot for a 2 minute warming and presto! Super gorgeous baby food. And I only have to make a batch every couple of weeks. Awesome. Here’s Gene’s first ever round of yams and turnips:

… TRAVELLING WITH A SOOTHER!

I was very judgemental about soothers/pacifiers/dummies before I had Rudi. Then I had Rudi. And he was a sucker. And anything that soothed my baby made sense, so I gave and a soother family we became. I feel just fine about it! To each his/her (pronouns just for you Angela, bloody capital-F Feminist!) own I truly feel. But I digress, this adventure is not about to soother or not to soother, it’s about how to hang onto the dang things if you use ’em.

Gene and I got on a plane 3 days ago. The day before, as I watched the soother fall out of his mouth and roll around and around my (obviously sparklingly clean, ahem ahem) dining room floor I remembered: I needed a soother holder, I had no time, I didn’t want to spend $9 on some ribbon and a clip, I sew. I added it up, looked around, saw my beloved sheep-and-black-sheep ribbon roll, some twill tape from a 4-pack of Beau’s beer and a sports lanyard of my husband’s.

I knew what I had to do.

The clip from the lanyard was quickly cut off, the ribbon sized up against Gene’s (unaturally, hilariously long) torso, the twill tape turned inside-out so as to appear plain and un-beer-related. I sewed, I came up with this:

It works like a charm and I got compliments all over the airport. Notes to future travelling self: 1. shoulda brought an order form, 2. need to take business cards.

… BEING QUIETLY AWESOME FOR YOURSELF!

Sometimes you need to add a little personal-awesome to your ensemble for yourself. A private joke for you. I like love adore Harry Potter.  I must not tell lies. So when I got an awesome faux patent diaper bag just before Gene was born, I knew I had to jazz the lameish logo up a bit. So naturally I sourced a Gryffindor patch and sewed that sucker right over the offending label.

And now I am infinitely cooler as I walk along with my bulging bag. Almost no one has noticed, but I love it. It’s like wearing leopard underwear, privately knowing that you’ve spiced, jazzed, expelliarmused it up a notch!

Rearview Fridays: A Felted Marcel!

Here we are at Rearview Friday already! Today I present a recent project, my needle-felted Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. Do you know Marcel? If not, you should check him out immediately as he’s charming beyond words! There’s also a sequel, Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Two, and a book Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Things About Me.

Rudi’s dance teacher is also a good friend of mine and in December at the end of his first term as a dance student, I made her a felt Marcel as a  thank you present (I’m a big believer in teacher gifting). I got a needle felting kit from a friend a while ago and I just love it! Needle felting is like painting and sculpting at the same time and it pays off quickly. Plus it’s fun to jam a barbed needle into a hunk of wool over and over til it’s felt, great for letting off frustrations.

This week kicked my behind a bit, strange weather, a family trip to the dentist (Rudi yelled so long and loud they decided to try again in 6 months!) and epic bodily function marathons that went something like this: baby Gene poops through his diaper, then vomits copiously across the space I sleep while I’m getting a wet cloth and a new diaper, now Rudi needs to poop in the toilet but he can’t get his pants undone, okay, Rudi’s pants are off, he’s taking care of business, Gene is now diapered, vomit wiped up, Gene poops again, I wipe him and leave him for 3 minutes of naked bum time thinking, “how much more poop could there be?” (error), Rudi, bless his heart, has peed on the seat and left the water running but at least that means he washed his hands, wipe up pee, turn off tap, back to Gene, he’s peed right over the waterproof mat onto the space where I sleep and pooped on the mat, soak up pee, toss mat in laundry, Gene is diapered again, Rudi is hollering from downstairs about a granola bar, Gene poops again, violently, straight out the back of the new diaper then immediately rolls (his new trick that I don’t yet anticipate) leaving baby-poo streaks where I sleep, now I need to pee, dream of a nap for a moment, remember I need to pump milk so I can teach dance on Saturday morning, open the granola bar, now I’ve forgotten to change the sheets, by the time it’s bed time I really don’t care, so I sleep in the traces of poop and pee and vomit. I probably need a shower.

Now that’s not a complaint, it’s a share that hopefully reminds me and maybe helps someone else to remember about the sometimes-madness of parenthood. There was a lot of laughing and sighing involved, I  just had to surrender to the ridiculousness of the moments and pretty much walked away from all blogging, business planning and actual sewing for the week. That’s part of being where I am right now, and so I laugh, sigh, occasionally cry (though not very often, there’s no time for drama folks!), lie on my back to stretch or “sleep” for 5 minutes when I can and am grateful that other people are honest in conversation and books and on blogs about the merciless pace that comes with young children. Plans, as well laid and measured and modest though they may be, often just go sideways. So I’m side-stepping, doing the grape vine through it all, and a plate or two may break, just sayin’.

Happy weekend, here’s to a cozy, calm weekend. Ha ha (about the calm part anyways).

Cutting, tweeting, pinning

After a lot of days spent reading about business models for crafters while nursing my now 4-month-old and stolen moments with the computer working on my website and familiarizing with wordpress, my challenge to myself this week is to actually get some production started. I need to feel the balance rebalancing — the admin matching the actual making, and admin’s been winning for a while. So I’ve been cutting …

CUTTING: … that’s right, I’ve been cutting out burping pads — next the linings, then the sewing, last the quilting, but due to small boys at home, I’m setting modest goals, and this week it’s to simply cut!

TWEETING: And I’m on Twitter at last at last – I popped my tweet cherry yesterday! It’s sort of wonderful and awful all at the same time to have joined yet another form of social media, but I can see how it’ll be useful and I admit it’s addictively fun — that’s partly why I resisted! Follow me for goodness’ sake! [Truth: I actually caved and joined for Dane Joseph McKellen, but that’s a story for another day …]

PINNING: As for the pinning, my friend, the lovely and stylish Ray Hogg told me about Pinterest, and I’m in love. It’s a bulletin board of things you find online, plus you can follow other cool people’s boards thus increasing your knowledge of awesome on the internet. I’ve said goodbye to sending emails to myself of great url’s that I don’t want to forget. I highly recommend. Here’s one of my pages!