Father's Day is hard to "celebrate" when your Father isn't here...

I can't believe I haven't bought a Father's Day card or gift for my Dad for two years straight now.  I know it's not about the gifts or anything, but it was just one of those extra days that I'd get to tell him that I love and appreciate him and heck, thank him for bringing me into this world.  And yes, I usually did that with a crude or funny t-shirt that he'd wear until the armpits were worn through.

So instead when I cried today I dropped to my knees and sent a ferverent prayer up to Heaven that God would somehow let my Dad hear my voice telling him how very, very much I miss him and thank him for teaching me how to live this life graciously and wholeheartedly.  Then I realized that it wouldn't really matter because I should have told him more when he was here with us on earth and because I say that in my heart each and every day. 

Sometimes I feel crazy because I see something on the news or G does something new and hilarious and I still think, "I've got to tell Dad."  I wonder if that's ever going to stop?  I worry that I'm already forgetting the sounds of him and that scares the heck out of me.  I never want to lose that - even if I live to be 100.  Why does this still have to be so hard after 16 months?

It's official :( 06/24/08-06/18/10

G woke up in the early morning hours of the 18th and he was shaking and crying and begging for baba.  So I gave him and let him have it.  He popped off in about 2 minutes and said, "All done momma."  Okay, I offered him the other and he didn't even spend a minute on it and said, "More all done."  Well after he went back to sleep he woke up that morning and didn't even notice the baba's, then at naptime he asked for them again and I let him do it, since he'd already done it that day anyway.  He didn't spent more than a minute before telling me, "All done."  Alrighty then.  He had a hard time going down for bed and he asked, yet again for the baba.  He spent about five minutes on both of them and they didn't do their usual magic and he said, "All done."  He patted them and laid his head on them and went to sleep that way.

My poor body was having a hard time yesterday and today so today (06/20/10) decided to bite the bullet and I took my first dose of methotrexate.  That means it's official - we're done breastfeeding.

He asked for baba once and I made him a sippy instead and he was perfectly content.  Otherwise he's snuggled up to me a few times and put his hand down my shirt and that's all.  I love it.  I love that he did it his way, on his terms (mostly).  I am so proud of myself for hanging on for so long, even when some days the pain was more than I thought I could take.  Weaning was gentle and gradual and everything I had hoped it would be.  But I'm going to miss it something terrible.

Too good to not share!

The direct link can be found here: http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/104478/public_breastfeeding_naysayers_your_guide?utm_medium=sm&utm_source=facebook&utm_content=socialshare_thestir_baby


When a mother is breastfeeding her child in a public space, these simple courtesies will help you in any situation.

1. When you happen to see a mother feeding and you make eye contact but are unsure of what to do, just smile (perhaps give a nod). CAUTION: Do not grin, she may get the impression you are a perv.

2. When you happen to get flashed (as can happen with a mobile, fussy, or curious baby), do not panic. It was an accident, not a deliberate attempt to ruin your lunch. The world survived Janet's wardrobe malfunction and your eyes will not bleed and your dinner will not spoil. After all, there is that other table with the public display of thong that you are ignoring quite nicely. Remember that your eyes are on her breasts, but her breasts aren't on your table. Turn your eyes back to your plate and resume eating.

3. When you happen to see that a mother sitting near you is struggling, sweating, and looks about to cry because the hooter hideawayer is not pleasing the baby, you can: Offer to put the titty-tent over your own head, or you can tell her not to worry about the cover and offer to stand as a shield so that she can latch the baby with a bit more freedom.

4. When you feel the compulsion to scowl because your gaze wandered to a nursing mother, remember that you were born with a neck. Turn your head before you frown.  Frowning causes wrinkles.

5. When you see a mother feeding her baby in the bathroom (and you happen to be under the impression that the bathroom makes for fine dining), offer to bring your soup and sandwich into the lavatory so that you can chit-chat in side by side commodes. Otherwise, assure her that she doesn't need to nurse in an unsanitary place. Inform her that other people just don't know proper etiquette and she isn't the one being offensive. Offer to walk her out of the cloud of stench into the fresh air.    

6. When you see that a woman has more breast exposed than you think is decent, ask yourself these questions: Is it more than you see on a public beach? Is it more than the bra-less double-D Harvard college nymph in the size small tank top? If the answer is no, zip your lip and turn your head. After all, are you going to walk up to those other women and tell them to cover it up? Just because the breastfeeder looks like an easy target, it doesn't mean you need to aim and fire.

7. When you see that the feed-ee is older than you think they should be to be nursing, only say something or give a disapproving snort if you're willing to write a check on the spot for the cost of formula for the next year and a half. You may also offer a cashier's check, money order, pre-paid credit card, or cash.

Road trip with Linda & Rod!

My Dad's oldest sister Linda sent me an email a few days ago wanting to know if G and I wanted to go with them to Libby after church on Sunday - if Ed wasn't working of course he'd be invited too.  Well Ed was working but I figured why not go with them?  Linda was laid off from her nursing job in Missoula and so she decided to look elsewhere even though she's only a few years away from retiring.  Her sister, my Aunt Kris, set her up an interview at the hospital she works at in Tennessee.  Well Linda got hired and her and Rodney are moving out there now.  I am going to miss them something fierce and I kick myself all the time because we've been here for a year and have only seen them maybe 5 times, and how many times were we in Missoula over the last year. 

Anyway, before I start to cry thinking about that, let me continue.  G and I have been attending church with Linda & Rod for a few months now and so after church we just piled in their car and off the four of us went to Libby.  We drove the "fun" way across I90 to St. Regis and then up to Paradise and on 200 to the Bull Lake Highway.  We got to Libby just in time to get out to Kathy's house since she was throwing a BBQ for Eric and Carrie.  Carrie and the kids have moved back up to Libby from Texas because Eric's being deployed to the Middle East again.  At Kathy's house were her and her husband Tim, Katie & her husband Ryan plus their two boys Cooper & Layne, Aunt Brenda, Uncle Bruce and his wife Penney, and then us plus the Eric & Carrie Viking empire.

I was excited to get to see G play with his second cousins but was kind of disappointed.  One of the older boys kept bossing G around and wouldn't let him do hardly anything, including playing with toys...until I stepped in and told him to leave G alone.  Then the next kidlet nearest G in age (who will be 3 in 3 months) did nothing but take every toy away from G.  I sat back and watched the interactions, trying to let them be kids and establish their own relationship.  But after about the tenth time G had a toy taken away from him another one of the older boys (brother to the 3 year old) stepped in and talked to him about the importance of sharing and everything, take the toy back and giving it to G.  G surprised me, he was non-confrontational and so laid back.  When a toy was taken away he just went and found something else to do.  He got into all sorts of stuff in Kathy's very animated back yard but the hardest part was keeping him from throwing big rocks into the koi pond.  I only hope that he didn't kill any of the fish!  G never stopped moving from the time we got there at about 5 pm until we left at about 9 pm. 

Linda went to the cemetary and I showed her where Dad's headstone was, which is just one headstone away from his brother Mike (Linda's brother) and my Grandpa Bob (Linda's dad).  We stood and talked until poor Uncle Rodney and G (who were both in the car) started to get mad and yell at us.  We got to Grandma's house and I laid G down on the bed in what's always been referred to as "the girls room."  G was asleep in probably less than 15 minutes.  Instead of going to sleep myself I stayed up for a few more hours reading a magazine and watching TV.  G was woken up several times during the night since Grandma's house sits across the highway from train tracks and a railroad crossing where they sound their horn, even in the dead of night.  He'd say groggily, "choo choo?"  And I'd say, "Yes sweetheart, go back to sleep."  I used to LOVE staying at my Grandma's house because between the trains and the sounds of the highway I was comforted by the noise.  Now that I've lived in the middle of nowhere for a year - it's HARD to sleep through all that!!! 

The next morning when we woke up G and I got our day rocking.  Linda went and bought some donuts for us all and then G and I took off for the railroad tracks.  He's never seen a real train travelling up close and personal so my goal was to show him one.  We walked across the highway, through the field to Pamida, across the Pamida parking lot and behind it to where the tracks are.  We waited and waited for a train but I gave up after about an hour and a half.  We did wander the tracks though and found all sorts of treasures like rusty bolts and railroad tie spikes.  I let G keep two of the spikes to bring home with him.  We checked to see if there was anything cool at Pamida (there wasn't, big surprise) and then we went back to Grandma's house.  Since we were vehicle-less (I am sure had I asked Linda would have let me take her car) G and I went back outside to "play."  I'm a little nervous to let him do his G thing (run crazy) at Grandma's house since it sits right on a busy busy highway and since G has no fear.  So I sat him on my lap on the front porch and we watched all the cars go by.  G's got everything down to "Ca" (car) and "Big ca" (big car).  Semi's are big cars in case you wanted to know.  Then we took a walk down the crossover road and went back.  We sat under the chinese maple in the front yard (shade!) and watched more cars go by.  G was content to just sit in my lap and talk about letters and colors, etc...and I taught him to do the fist pump thing and say, "Honk honk" at the semi's.  We only got 2 out of probably 15 semi's to honk at us but it was worth it because G got all excited about it.  I took G inside and Linda was reading a book, Grandma was napping in her chair and Uncle Rodney was asleep on the couch watching C-Span.  G and I went upstairs and laid down and we were both asleep in no time.

I got woken up by a cell phone call but thankfully it didn't wake G up.  I wandered downstairs and found that Linda had gotten the fixings for ham sandwiches and some potato salad.  She even said, "Oh and I got you a Pepsi too."  How nice is it to have someone take care of you like that?  I had some lunch and kept listening for G to wake up.  He woke up about an hour later and he ate the other half of Granny Great's sandwich.  We went out and played some more before Linda started packing up to leave.  We took the same way back to Missoula. 

It was so nice to spend that time with them and it was actually pretty relaxing since G was pretty sweet and calm most of the time.  He's been kind of a terror lately so it was nice to "enjoy" mommying him.  Linda and I got to talk about all sorts of stuff which only exacerbated the fact that I'm going to miss having her closeby.  They are pulling out of town on the 25th of June, which is less than 2 weeks away.  G actually says, "Rodney" so I know he's going to notice that they're gone as well.  But I am so thankful that we got just 36 extra hours with them! 

Drawing to a close...

Today marks one full week of no booby - no nap, no bedtime, nothing. My poor boobuh's are getting engorged and hurting. I "put them away" and it appears to be an out of sight out of mind kind of thing. Before now I'd wear tank tops and such and I've been making it a point to wear regular shirts to where you can't see cleavage or anything. He's "asked" about five times but it was super super easy to redirect him by just kissing him and telling him that big boys who peep in the potty don't need to have the boobuh and that boobuh's are for babies. I've redirected him by playing on the swingset when he asks for the boobuh, or by grabbing a book to read instead, or by giving him a sippy cup.  He seems fine with it and most times he'll just lay his head on my chest and pat them or stick his hand down my shirt and just leave it there. I've put him down for 7 naps and 5 bedtimes without booby, just cuddling up with him on his new big boy bed.


I think I really am ready. I hurt.all.the.time. My hands are so swollen that it's hard to grasp anything and my hips hurt so bad all day long that it hurts to even walk to the kitchen. In fact I went to pull him out of the tub night before last and when I stood up with him my right hip gave out and I fell back into a wall. By the end of the day my feet are so swollen that they feel like they're on fire. And I'm ready to lose this weight, to have my joints move more fluidly so that just simply activity doesn't cause me pain. That's only going to be achieved by going back on the methotrexate and the only thing stopping me from going back on it is the fact that I'm BFing.  I hate RA and all it entails.  Going back on the methotrexate means one thing to me - that I'm done having children.  It is a drug that is way too dangerous to a fetus, baby, matters of conception, whatever and so if I start taking it now, and with our past struggles of getting pregnant, I'm done.  I will never again feel the joy of being kicked from the inside, the elation at hearing my babies first cry, the terror of knowing that I'm responsible for this very new and very fragile life.  That's a hard realization to come to and a hard dream to let float away.  I should just be thankful that I got to have G.  He is a miracle in so many ways and I know that pouring my heart into him will get me through the disappointment of never being able to give him a brother or sister to grow old with and share memories with.   

Over the last two years I've been ridiculed for nursing in public, for nursing period (because it's "gross"), for nursing beyond one year old, etc...and I've stuck through it all.  I found myself educating others (men and women) on the benefits of breastfeeding, including explaining that the WHO (World Health Organization) recommends breastfeeding for AT LEAST two years because of what it does for baby and that the longer a woman breastfeeds the lower her risk goes for breast cancer.  I figure that if I've made breastfeeding seem normal to one person then I'm proud of my becoming a lactivist of sorts.  If one person close to me chooses to breastfeed their child because they saw how important it was to us, then I'll be a very happy girl.  I don't judge other women but I just wish that women would educate themselves about what's best for baby rather than let the media tell them what they should do.  It's a personal choice and like I've been saying for the last two years -- about all things parenting, not just breastfeeding -- "My baby - my rules." 

I almost made it to two years, and if I offered the boobuh he'd happily take it. I'm trying to not let that magic number 24 months be important to me but it kind of is. I miss it already and it's not even officially "done." I cannot believe how important BFing became to me. Before he was born I knew I wanted to try but told myself that if it didn't work, that'd be okay too. I'm just glad that he was a champion nurser from day one and man oh man did we make a great team.  He started out as 7 pounds, 10 ounces and 20.5 inches long and at almost 2 years old he's 30 pounds and 37" tall and my body did that. My body took something smaller than a grain of rice and through 39 weeks of gestation and 100+ weeks of breastfeeding turned that grain of rice into a strong, intelligent, thriving and healthy little boy. What a miracle creation is!

I want to cry

Why does he have to grow up so fast???  When I went into town on Tuesday I went ahead and bought the twin mattresses for G's "big big boy bed."  Ed hasn't even come close to starting to build his bed but I figured that it might be easier for me to get G to sleep without the booby if I can lay down and snuggle with him.  And, well, let's face it.  Toddler beds aren't meant to support 30 pounds of little boy and 170 pounds of big fat momma.  I got a great deal on the bed (cost me $225 for a $399 bed because it was the floor model) and it was what I wanted - firm but still soft.  Grandma Shirley had already picked up some Cars sheets when they were on sale about a month ago so those were ready to go and I had just happened to be lucky enough to find a Thomas twin comforter at TJ Maxx last week that was on clearance for a measley $15.  I wanted to go with a plain colored comforter and a set of Thomas sheets and a set of Cars sheets but oh well.  Between the Cars sheets, the Thomas comforter and the fleece Elmo blanket it looks like the TV threw up all over the bed, but he loves it. 

On Wednesday Ed broke down G's 3 in 1.  My sage mommy advice for pending parents - don't waste you money on a 3 in 1.  By 3 in 1 I mean it's a crib, then a toddler bed (with side rail) and then the headboard and footboard for a double bed.  G was a beaver as a babe and so what would be the head and footboard have been gnawed pretty well since the wood was soft.  He spent 14 months (from 5.5 months to 20 months) in the crib and then a whopping 4 months in the toddler bed.  He's just too tall for the toddler bed and I am tired of trying to cram my fat self into it when he wants to be snuggled.  If we were having another baby I would happily keep it for that little one as it is a beautiful crib/toddler bed.  But since Ed's 110% sure that I only get to birth a baby once, I guess it's time to pass it along so that it can be loved by a new family.  I haven't decided yet if I should hold onto it for any nieces or nephews that might come my way or if I should sell it or what.   

It's so strange to me that his crib/toddler bed is gone though.  Ed and I bought it 2 years before G was even conceived - at the beginning of our TTC journey and I remember seeing it in the garage every once in a while and Ed asking me, after more than a year of TTC, what we were going to do with "the damn thing" if we couldn't have a baby.  I told him that we'd gift it to someone else because even if I didn't have a baby to put in it some day it still brought me hope.  Thankfully awhile later God saw fit to bless us with our little turkey butt boy.  But now it's been a part of my life for four years!!!  I can admit ... I'll miss it and what it stood for and the memories it holds.  When we brought G home and he was only a few days old I put him in there and could not believe how huge it looked with his tiny little body in it.  That changed so ridiculously fast.  I've spent hours and hours of my life rocking a little boy right next to that crib before putting him in it. 

But he loves his new twin bed.  He transitioned from the crib to the toddler bed (the same bed just without the full front rail (the toddler bed just meant a little half wall to keep kiddo in) really easily.  He skipped a nap for some reason yesterday so he fell asleep on Ed at 6:30 last night.  Then at 7:30 he was awake and SCREAMING.  I think it was a night terror because he never opened his eyes and he was pushing me away and trying to get away from me.  I finally calmed him down and I went back to work.  Then at about 8:15 he woke up again.  I curled up in his bed with him and got him back to sleep and almost fell asleep myself!  And now it's almost 7 am and I hear him stirring.  I wonder if his thought upon waking will be, "Whoa, where did all this bed come from?"  I wonder how long it will be before he figures out that it's fun to jump on the bed?

I'll have to come back to this and post a picture or two but right now blogger and I aren't getting along.

Growing older = growing into a big weenie!

Recovering from surgery this time SUCKS.  I have been completely miserable, to the point that I thought for sure that I had the flu.  I am tired all the time, my head and ear hurt and thanks to the pain meds I am now backed up tighter than the first guy through the door on SWAT.  I tried every remedy possible to help me in that department but ended up having to go to the dreaded stimulant laxative.  So now my stomach has been killing me for 3 days thanks to that.  I would happily stop taking any of the Lortab but my ear itself still hurts hurts and it causes the left side of my head to ache something terrible.  At least the packing seems to have dislodged, which means there is a lot less pressure.  But it's still bleeding pretty good. 

Ed still feels like dog snot from his surgery too but he's back to work.  It doesn't help that Crash has suddenly decided now is a good time for regression in the potty training department and he likes to wake us up several times a night just to go out and pee.  I let him take a nap with me once and now he seems to think he should sleep in the bed with me whenever he pleases.  I think not.  I did not miss this part of puppydom. 

It's taking all of my energy all day just to stay awake so interacting and playing with G has been brutal.  I hope this stops soon because he doesn't deserve a mommy who is a bump on a log.  It doesn't help that it's been raining nonstop for almost a week now.  I need to find G some rain boots.  He's got a raincoat but no hat or boots. 

Is it naptime yet? 

tru dat!

If this isn't a true depiction of my little booby monster I don't know what is.  I thought for sure he was getting close to weaning but now all of a sudden he's asking for baba several times a day, sometimes throwing a fit when I try to redirect him.  Ed's very much done with me BFing but I've always maintained that this is about G (and maybe me).  I am now telling him that "baba is only for nigh-night, are you ready to nigh-night?"  Usually he isn't (of course) so he backs off but sometimes he just has to have it right then, right now.  He is three weeks shy of two years old.  I'm pretty damn proud of the two of us but the thought of never again putting a babe to my breast makes me so sad :(