If a blog shows up on the interwebs, and no one gets linked to read it...

So lately, it feels like I have a lot of insightful stuff to say. The current state of things leaves me with no one I can spew my knowledge onto that would retain and use it. My daughter thinks I'm a weirdo, my son is distracted by everything and goes ape shit if you try to take his pee-catcher away (this is so I can put on a dry one, I don't condone gratuitous nudity in this house... uphill battle) and the Y-chromosome is wallowing in a shallow puddle of high school level emo puke right now. More and more, I find myself turning my friends who live in that gray box on the desk. Yes, I think it's safe to say that I've never met 80% of those I call friends face to face. I've also never heard most of their voices. It's great that the miles and oceans that separate us mean nothing thanks to the glorious Internet.

Uhhh... insightful stuff. Right. Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead for tonight and just get some comments. So, read this blog, and give me a gem I can wax poetic on. I like playing Devil's advocate, so it would not be that difficult for me to say, oh, defend pro-life agenda, or argue against gay marriage. Politics are no fun though, because there are too many people in politics with no sense of humor. I enjoy making fun of people who think they are a bigger deal than they really are (Snooki) and pointing out people who should be a bigger deal, but aren't (Rosetta the Fairy).

I guess if it means I get to think about something that isn't involving human beings under 40 inches tall, we're all good.

The Current State of Things

My stress level has been mounting slowly. Getting little man on any kind of schedule is proving to be futile, since i don't have much time to devote to him when i'm not doing something else, like dishes, or laundry, or keeping the monster out of the DVD closet. Then i found this article on La Leche League's website, and i feel a little better. I could have written it myself, but i didn't so i must give credit where it is due! I'm only posting a few excerpts here, the ones that especially apply to me.

So I Nursed Him Every 45 Minutes
By Elizabeth N. Baldwin, Esq.

I nursed my first child every 45 minutes--big deal. Boy, was it! I never expected a child of mine to be so demanding. He had to nurse every 45 minutes or else ... else he'd scream till the end of time. Or so I thought; I never found out. After all, if I let him nurse every 45 minutes, he was in seventh heaven, so who was I to complain?

Luckily, for my son's sake, I trusted those darn instincts I didn't think I had, and I let him just nurse and nap in my arms whenever he wanted to by day, and nurse and sleep beside me whenever he wanted to at night. Those instincts, however, were not easy to distinguish from messages I had carried since childhood. These were ingrained so deeply that they felt like instincts, yet they were really more like old tapes running over and over, criticizing, judging, and blaming at every provocation. My instincts told me to keep my thoughts to myself. And I learned to do just that, and to let my instincts guide me.

My instincts told me that my precious little baby needed to nurse whenever he wanted to. After all, he had spent nine months inside me, and I was all he knew. Whenever I looked at the peaceful, happy expression on his face as he nursed, I could imagine him feeling as though he were back in the womb--hearing my heart beating, my stomach gurgling, the sound of my breathing, and feeling attached to me! Yes, my instincts told me that if he was happy in my arms, then that is where he needed to be.

After I figured out what my instincts were, I came upon a greater challenge: learning to trust them. How hard this was amid the advice I was getting from family and friends, even from hospital staff and doctors. "That baby couldn't be hungry again--you must not have enough milk!" I was told, and "Maybe he wouldn't be so needy if you'd go longer between feedings." Nearly all their counsel went against my instincts, and suggested that I was doing something wrong.

Several critics cast doubt on my own well-being. Some said that remaining constantly available to my son would make me nervous and anxious, and would stop my milk from letting down. Others suggested that if I didn't allow someone else to take care of my baby from time to time, I would get stressed out or depressed, which would "mess up" my hormones. Yet, for me, depression would result from not responding the way my "hormones" were telling me to; it seemed as though nature was screaming at me to listen to my baby. I felt much less stress as soon as I realized that it was OK for him to be needy, and OK for me to be responsive. If anything was making me anxious and nervous, it was their words. Being responsive felt right--more right than anything I had ever done in my life.

And yes, I was even accused of being a martyr, of suffering for my child. This one amused me as I watched non-nursing friends sterilizing bottles, preparing formula, carting around small kitchens in their diaper bags, and treating constipation, diarrhea, and other common side effects of formula. On the flip side, I was accused of taking the easy way out, as if something so effortless for a mother could not be good for her child! The insinuation was that because my son fell asleep at the breast in 30 seconds, I was breastfeeding because I was lazy.

As for me, I continued to listen to my instincts. I let the dishes, work, and social times slide, knowing that they would always be there whereas my baby would not. I let the nights go by with varying amounts of sleep, and the days roll on with little sense of accomplishment. And looking back, I want to shout with joy that I did. My precious infant who nursed every 45 minutes grew and grew--into an independent, happy, intelligent, and confident nine year old with compassion in his heart and affection in his acts.

It's not easy to find insight at 3AM when nothing you do seems to make your angelic baby happy, and instead you're left with this demon child, who seems to be suckling the very life right out of you. Hormones and the demands of irrational toddlers muddle up the mess even farther. This thing they call motherhood is far from easy!! I'm really glad no one told me that though, because then I would never get to hear "Ma maaaaaaaaaaa" for an alarm clock. I think i'll have to come back and read this a lot over the next few days, just to remind myself. Again. and again.

okay, so i'm gonna get back into blogging.

i'll work on pics, and stuff.. but so far, this pregnancy and school is kicking my ass. so is my lazy-as-hell fiance, so whatever.

we might end up kinda snowed in tomorrow, so blah.

in the meantime, see me at the forum

Trying a new approach.

It's impossible to get anyone to notice crap anymore.

http://wickedpenguin.proboards92.com/index.cgi

Check it out.

woo... hoo?

Well, there it is. The proof I needed that my not-so-useful other half is a total idiot. I told him noooooooooo, this is a bad time, but would he listen?? Of course not! His testosterone filled ego couldn't take another turn down. And on the best of weeks.. I find out his super sperm have struck again. This will be the THIRD time that his Hitler found my Poland.

I'm excited, I really am.. but the timing for all of this is HORRIBLE! I am trying to keep it all together, and be the rock that I have always been in this family, because I am nothing if not sane, and a peacekeeper, and the level headed one.. you may even call me the damper. But sometimes I think that if I wasn't, Brad would float off like a balloon.

So, how do you deal with this kind of shock? A total disruption of the carefully laid plans you have made? You don't. So far, I have misrepesented the truth to all of my family about this because I am fairly certain I know how they'll take it. Not well. At this point, I'm still expecting something to go wrong anyway, I keep getting cramps when I sneeze (and when I don't sneeze) so there could always be nothing to tell them anyway. Besides, I have my girls, and they always understand, and listen, and sympathize when I need them to. My world would be empty without them.

Here's a cheer to Mary.. I think we'll be getting closer in the months to come. Thanks for sharing this ride with me!

Next issue: Sisters and the relationship you have....

One year

It's almost been one whole year since she was born. It feels like yesterday, and it feels like 2 years. Most days I'm glad to have her, some days I wish she'd go. When I'm out, I wish there was nothing to come to. That I just stay out and see and talk to whomever I like to. But invariably I would miss her. And how can you just come back after a week and explain why you've been gone? I could never do that to her.... but the consequences I am wreaking on myself have yet to be seen.

Now the happy girl wants to play. I'll be back...

Attachment.

I love my daughter. Deeply truly ferociously love her. So why is it i just want to walk away from her when she's being so clingy and awful?? I c
an't

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(that was her playing with the number pad)

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I am not allowed to pee. I can't make myself anything to eat. Even when I manage to make food, she insists on eating it, or grabbing at my hands until i spill it. Her father is home now, and we got a box in the mail from his mom, so she's over there all interested in that right now. But that unfailing, patient love mom's are supposed to feel is failing me. Maybe its the lack of help that I have during the day, I have a household to clean and run, and the only thing i get to run is my daughter around the floor. I love being home with her, and knowing that she's getting all the love and attention i have to give her, but the few hours a week that I get to myself are just not enough. I'm afraid that I may be too selfish to live up to this amazing job.