Pulling all the toys out at once is his favorite thing
but he flashes his "up to no good" smile and I cant help but laugh
Christmas Eve
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Perfect 10
My little man turned 10 months old yesterday!! We celebrated with another trip to the doctor for...take a guess...poop. I am happy to report that he didn't loose any weight despite not keeping much of anything in him this last week. He is feeling much better now and is back to his old "not sleeping" self (more on that in a future post). We had a nice quiet weekend and Connor got to go swimming with his cousins again. Even though it always feels like summer in Florida, Memorial Day will always be the start of summer for me. Which only means my munchkin's 1st birthday is right around the corner! We can't wait!
Pulling all the toys out at once is his favorite thing
but he flashes his "up to no good" smile and I cant help but laugh
Pulling all the toys out at once is his favorite thing
but he flashes his "up to no good" smile and I cant help but laugh
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Poopapalooza
I have coined this week "poopapalooza". I assume you can deduce why. My poor kid has never had an easy time with digestion. In fact, he eats prunes 4 times a week to help him in that area, so you can imagine my shock when the complete opposite hit home this week. I could not have ever imagined that so much poop could come out of someone so little. So on this, the eve of munchkin's 10 month birthday, my wish for him is a poop free day tomorrow. I am sure he needs a break, after all he has been putting on quiet a show for 3 days now.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Always room for a lefty on the roster
So it seems to me that Connor has a preference for his left hand. We have noticed that he favors picking things up with his left hand and eating with his left hand. Although possibly most important, he throws with his left hand. Mark continues to remind him, as he cheers him on when Connor throws toys around the room, "there's always room on the roster for a lefty." Who knows if he will be left handed, or in our dreams, be a left-handed pitcher for the Red Sox, but he already looks ADORABLE in his hat and jersey! 
Eating out at our home away from home, Boston's on the Beach
Connor's reaction to finding out the Sox, Celtics and Bruins were all on the same night!
If only he could speak; he's giving the evil eye to a Yankee fan
Saturday, May 1, 2010
To wean or not to wean, that is the question
Disclaimer: this post will contain discussion on breastfeeding, hormones, emotions, and other "womanly" topics, so if you are not even comfortable with the aforementioned words please click here www.espn.com to get your dose of testosterone and do not read any further.
That being said, Connor is officially weaned and has been for a month now. This decision did not come easily. In fact, I probably should have made it sooner, but I simply could not let go. Ill start this by going back to the beginning, mostly for my own record because I am sure I will not even remember half of this by the time baby #2 comes (years from now; don't get excited Mom). I was naive when I was pregnant and truly thought that breastfeeding would be a breeze. After all, it was the most natural thing to do. Our bodies are made to do it and it will come to me and baby easily. LIE. Breastfeeding is not easy. It's the opposite actually. It is hard, very hard. It is a lot of work. There is no book or class that can prepare you for it. I feel that way and I consider myself one of the lucky ones; I had it pretty easy.
Connor gave me no trouble at all. He latched perfectly from the first time and I never had any major issues. I did, however, have an ass for a pediatrician, who at Connor's week 2 appointment made me feel like I was inadequate. Connor was back to exactly birth weight by week 2, which is all they ask for. This was not good enough for our pediatrician who wanted him at half a pound over birth weight and he told me to supplement. Being the scared 1st time mother I was, I did just that. Something I will always regret, but I did it none the less. I didn't give him much, maybe 2oz-3oz of formula at night, but I still wish I never did. After I fired said pediatrician when Connor was a month old (that's a whole other story), I started believing in myself a little more. It also helped that I was going to a breastfeeding support group every week. I truly believe that was the best thing I ever did. Not only did I learn from it, but I never felt alone. I could go there and spew all my fears and have 10 other women who understood EXACTLY what I was saying. It also gave me a place to go. I could get out of the house and go somewhere that it was perfectly acceptable to breastfeed and no one cared if your baby cried. Plus, I could weigh Connor every week to make sure he was gaining weight. This did wonders for the anxiety I had over never having enough. He was always fine. He never gained much, but it was always good enough. He was a wicked slow eater though and he would take his sweet time. This was the exhausting part. He would eat for an hour, then 2 hours later (if not sooner) eat again. I felt like that was pretty much all I did all day and night - and it was. My days were consumed by breastfeeding and so were the nights, but I really never minded that much because I was glad I was even able to do it.
When I was on maternity, we did ok. I always worried that he was still hungry or I didn't have enough for him (thanks Dr. Amoretti), but we made it through. Then I went back to work. At first things were good. I was pumping and I was getting enough for all his bottles at daycare by pumping 3 times at work (every 3 hours). This is a job in and of itself. I am so lucky to have a boss that didn't care that an hour and a half of my day was spent attached to a pump in a locked office (sometimes his office when I had nowhere else to go). Again, I had it easy. Pumping was annoying and I hated every minute of it, but I did it. After about a month, Connor started demanding more in his bottles and "the girls" could not keep up. I would have to add another pump in at night in order to make sure he had enough bottles for daycare. I did this for a while. Then around month 6, I could not even keep up by doing another pump, so he got one bottle of formula at school. I still kept pumping. I would lug that thing into work everyday with the little cooler and all the parts and keep on pumping. Then I started getting less and less at each session. It got to the point, where I would pump for 20 minutes and get an ounce and a half TOTAL!!!! It was at this point that I decided this had to stop. It was downright depressing. Every time I saw that, I wanted to cry. I was doing so much work and I was getting nothing. I was letting down my baby and I couldn't figure out why my body was letting me down. I started giving him bottles of formula at school, but still breastfeeding when I was with him. This, however, was not going well either. He would get extremely frustrated with me and literally pound at my chest to get more of a let down. He would fling his head back and cry. I started trying to pump all the time and give him breast milk in a bottle, so I would know he was getting enough to be full. This did not last long either, as I would need to pump twice to get one bottle, so I would still have to supplement. I decide in month 7 that this whole charade had to end. My body wasn't producing enough and my son was not happy; therefore I was not happy. After a long email chain with Joanna, she helped me realize that it was OK to stop. I had done my best and gave my son a great start. I slowly started to feel proud instead of wanting to cry everyday (which is how I felt every single day since I went back to work).
I started weaning him in March and it did not take long at all. This only affirmed my decision to stop. I barely felt engorged. I cut out feedings after a day or two and soon we were completely weaned, except for the early morning feed. I could not stop everything just yet. I couldn't let go, so I would get him when he woke up around 5-5:30am and bring him to my bed and feed him. I knew that I didn't have much left in there, but he didn't need much at that time. We both sort of did it more for comfort than for nutrition. However, we stopped that by the end of March too and by the time I went to Jersey for my birthday we were all done. No pump to pack, no breastfeeding wrap for the plane. Just me, my happy little man, and his bottles.
Now, I anxiously await the return of "my friend" and have already seen my hormones fiercely out of whack. I was downright nasty two weeks ago to everyone and I could feel myself having no patience with anyone or anything. I hope this doesn't last too long because I may loose my job and husband if it does, but this is just another thing to add to the joys of being a woman.
I must say for all the crap that us women deal with, I wouldn't trade it for anything because we are lucky enough to be able to be mothers. I got to experience pregnancy, which is a phenomenon like no other. I carried Connor and nurtured him for 9 months. I gave birth to him and cannot even explain how amazing it is to feel an instant love for someone. I will spend the rest of my life nurturing, loving, teaching, and caring for him and I consider myself the luckiest person in the world for that. So bring on the hormones and crazy emotions because I am lucky enough to be a mother (to the most amazing little man) and experience everything that comes along with it.
I know it's about a week early, but Happy Mother's Day to all of you who are as lucky I as I am.
And boy am I lucky...
That being said, Connor is officially weaned and has been for a month now. This decision did not come easily. In fact, I probably should have made it sooner, but I simply could not let go. Ill start this by going back to the beginning, mostly for my own record because I am sure I will not even remember half of this by the time baby #2 comes (years from now; don't get excited Mom). I was naive when I was pregnant and truly thought that breastfeeding would be a breeze. After all, it was the most natural thing to do. Our bodies are made to do it and it will come to me and baby easily. LIE. Breastfeeding is not easy. It's the opposite actually. It is hard, very hard. It is a lot of work. There is no book or class that can prepare you for it. I feel that way and I consider myself one of the lucky ones; I had it pretty easy.
Connor gave me no trouble at all. He latched perfectly from the first time and I never had any major issues. I did, however, have an ass for a pediatrician, who at Connor's week 2 appointment made me feel like I was inadequate. Connor was back to exactly birth weight by week 2, which is all they ask for. This was not good enough for our pediatrician who wanted him at half a pound over birth weight and he told me to supplement. Being the scared 1st time mother I was, I did just that. Something I will always regret, but I did it none the less. I didn't give him much, maybe 2oz-3oz of formula at night, but I still wish I never did. After I fired said pediatrician when Connor was a month old (that's a whole other story), I started believing in myself a little more. It also helped that I was going to a breastfeeding support group every week. I truly believe that was the best thing I ever did. Not only did I learn from it, but I never felt alone. I could go there and spew all my fears and have 10 other women who understood EXACTLY what I was saying. It also gave me a place to go. I could get out of the house and go somewhere that it was perfectly acceptable to breastfeed and no one cared if your baby cried. Plus, I could weigh Connor every week to make sure he was gaining weight. This did wonders for the anxiety I had over never having enough. He was always fine. He never gained much, but it was always good enough. He was a wicked slow eater though and he would take his sweet time. This was the exhausting part. He would eat for an hour, then 2 hours later (if not sooner) eat again. I felt like that was pretty much all I did all day and night - and it was. My days were consumed by breastfeeding and so were the nights, but I really never minded that much because I was glad I was even able to do it.
When I was on maternity, we did ok. I always worried that he was still hungry or I didn't have enough for him (thanks Dr. Amoretti), but we made it through. Then I went back to work. At first things were good. I was pumping and I was getting enough for all his bottles at daycare by pumping 3 times at work (every 3 hours). This is a job in and of itself. I am so lucky to have a boss that didn't care that an hour and a half of my day was spent attached to a pump in a locked office (sometimes his office when I had nowhere else to go). Again, I had it easy. Pumping was annoying and I hated every minute of it, but I did it. After about a month, Connor started demanding more in his bottles and "the girls" could not keep up. I would have to add another pump in at night in order to make sure he had enough bottles for daycare. I did this for a while. Then around month 6, I could not even keep up by doing another pump, so he got one bottle of formula at school. I still kept pumping. I would lug that thing into work everyday with the little cooler and all the parts and keep on pumping. Then I started getting less and less at each session. It got to the point, where I would pump for 20 minutes and get an ounce and a half TOTAL!!!! It was at this point that I decided this had to stop. It was downright depressing. Every time I saw that, I wanted to cry. I was doing so much work and I was getting nothing. I was letting down my baby and I couldn't figure out why my body was letting me down. I started giving him bottles of formula at school, but still breastfeeding when I was with him. This, however, was not going well either. He would get extremely frustrated with me and literally pound at my chest to get more of a let down. He would fling his head back and cry. I started trying to pump all the time and give him breast milk in a bottle, so I would know he was getting enough to be full. This did not last long either, as I would need to pump twice to get one bottle, so I would still have to supplement. I decide in month 7 that this whole charade had to end. My body wasn't producing enough and my son was not happy; therefore I was not happy. After a long email chain with Joanna, she helped me realize that it was OK to stop. I had done my best and gave my son a great start. I slowly started to feel proud instead of wanting to cry everyday (which is how I felt every single day since I went back to work).
I started weaning him in March and it did not take long at all. This only affirmed my decision to stop. I barely felt engorged. I cut out feedings after a day or two and soon we were completely weaned, except for the early morning feed. I could not stop everything just yet. I couldn't let go, so I would get him when he woke up around 5-5:30am and bring him to my bed and feed him. I knew that I didn't have much left in there, but he didn't need much at that time. We both sort of did it more for comfort than for nutrition. However, we stopped that by the end of March too and by the time I went to Jersey for my birthday we were all done. No pump to pack, no breastfeeding wrap for the plane. Just me, my happy little man, and his bottles.
Now, I anxiously await the return of "my friend" and have already seen my hormones fiercely out of whack. I was downright nasty two weeks ago to everyone and I could feel myself having no patience with anyone or anything. I hope this doesn't last too long because I may loose my job and husband if it does, but this is just another thing to add to the joys of being a woman.
I must say for all the crap that us women deal with, I wouldn't trade it for anything because we are lucky enough to be able to be mothers. I got to experience pregnancy, which is a phenomenon like no other. I carried Connor and nurtured him for 9 months. I gave birth to him and cannot even explain how amazing it is to feel an instant love for someone. I will spend the rest of my life nurturing, loving, teaching, and caring for him and I consider myself the luckiest person in the world for that. So bring on the hormones and crazy emotions because I am lucky enough to be a mother (to the most amazing little man) and experience everything that comes along with it.
I know it's about a week early, but Happy Mother's Day to all of you who are as lucky I as I am.
And boy am I lucky...
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