Monthly Archives: March 2009

Conversation with a Three-Year-Old

Cakie: These are white broccolli trees.

Me: They’re called caulifower.  They’re yummy.

Cakie: I don’t want them.

Me: I’m going to eat mine.  [chew chew]  Mmmm.  They taste so creamy.

Cakie:  I don’t even want those.

Me: [Changing the subject.]  What do you want to be when you grow up?

Cakie: A daddy.

Me:  I think you will be a wonderful daddy.  And what will you say to your kids to get them to eat their vegetables.

Cakie:  They taste so creamy.



Filed under my son

Dear Trucker (8 Months)

Dear Trucker,

Let’s talk about how you communicate.  You do.  You always have.  From the moment you made my water break right after Grandma told you  through the phone on my belly to be born,  you have been listening and “talking.”  Very early on, you started sticking your tongue out at people.  You wanted them to do it back.  And if they did, you did it back to them.  Most babies do this a little, I think. But you are still doing it.  I think it is your way of saying “Yo.”

You’ve become a little Mommy’s boy.  Yeah, I’m the one they call Mommy.  I hear poor Mama at least once a day say something like, “She’s just leaving the room for a second, baby.  Pull yourself together.”

You make the loudest sometimes whiniest screeching noises.  We’ve taken to calling you Sleestak.  It was a name we also called your brother for a while.  I don’t remember how old he was.  I guess you just want us to know that you want your needs to be met.  Or that you don’t like the fact that I’m leaving the room for a minute.  Or that you like to make that noise to hear yourself.

No more calm diaper changes for you either, buddy.  You really really really want to spin around and crawl regardless of whether or not there is a diaper full of poo right under your legs.  So.  Yeah.  That can get messy.

Have I mentioned your cuteness?  You are so cute.  Cute as a button.  And your hair is crazy.  That’s what Cakie likes to say.  The other day I caught him trying to brush your hair while saying, “Hold still!  Hold still.  Your hair is craaaazy.”  I even cut it once. One would never know, but I did.

I can’t believe you are eight months old already.  I just received an email… a whole “conversation” of emails written between Nelly and I the week before you were born.  Mommy was sure you’d arrive a month late.  Ha.  But it is so funny for me to think about the time before I knew you.  It was only nine months ago.  Nine months ago, at time I call ‘The Dark Ages.’  Because I had never seen you, my light.



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Filed under my hon, my second son, my son, Trucker

A Lot Can Happen In 10 Days

I haven’t blogged for 10 days?  That’s crazy.

The first big development is that I am suddenly and inexplicably OVER pumping.  Oh.  Ver.  I want to throw the thing out the window.  Hate.  Hate hate hate it.  I was appreciating the zen and the connection to my baby yadda yadda.  Suddenly it feels more hard  than calm.  More ouch than ahhh.  But.  I will push through this.  It must be hormonal or something.  I’m finding it especially difficult to sit through the last five minutes.  Does anyone know anything about this?  I pump for 15 minutes each time.  The theory being that my brea$ts will empty, thus stimulating more milk production.  But the most milk comes out in the first 8 minutes.  The rest of the time I’m crawling out of my skin.  If I pump for a shorter time, will my milkies go away?  Please say no.

The second thing is the BEST.  Date night.  My honey and I have a good friend who lives across the street.  But we never saw much of her because she is highly allergic to my big fat cat, Domingo Perezoso.  (Perhaps I’ll post a picture.)  So our friend, blog name Titi Lisa, got herself some allergy drugs that actually work.  And for two Fridays IN A ROW, she has babysat for us.  I went out with my honey. On a date.  Two weeks in a row.  Sounds like not such a big deal, but we have gone as long as nine months without a single childless dinner out when Cakie was little.  We just suck at getting sitters and sticking to our promise of one date night a month.  So here’s my unsolicited mommy a$$vice du jour:  date night.  Do it.  Do it often.  Do it for each other.  It is worth every penny.  If you can get someone to do it for free, so much the better.

I’m actually working on getting a sitter again this Friday.  Since it is restaurant week here in Brooklyn and we haven’t actually seen a movie in those two previous Fridays.  I’ll give more details on the actual dates soon.  They were actually kind of funny in an embarrassing lame-a$$ way.

On that note, I bring you Domingo:

(I don’t know how to turn it right side round, so tilt your head.)



Filed under b00b food, Domingo, my hon, NYC What is it about you?

B00b or Powder?

At my fabulous playgroup this week, one of my friends, who had read my blog about the daycare providers (or maybe it was one of my other friends,) mentioned this article:

“The Case Against Breastfeeding”  is a good read and brings up some interesting points.  I think the author is really trying to not feel pressured to breastfeed.  So she did some research and found that breastfeeding is not necessarily the magical elixir that much of the literature leads us to believe it is.  She goes on to hint that having breastfeeding as an only option doesn’t allow households to share in the work equally between both partners and establishes the breastfeeding mother as the only  “expert.”  She tries to make breastfeeding-as-the-only-option seem somehow anti-feminist.  It really was interesting.   I feel that if a person doesn’t want to breastfeed, or if she has trouble and chooses to go with formula, that that is her prerogative and I’m not going to tiptoe away from her on the playground because of it.  That said, the bottom line for me is that it is cheaper, way cheaper than formula.  And I find it easier.  I think also the author may be more modest than me because it doesn’t bother me at all (almost) to just whip out the b00b and feed my babe.  She seems to be sick of it.  Which is fine.  I don’t love pumping.  But I do love that it makes me sit still for an extra 15 minutes three times a day.  And it makes me feel connected to Trucker.  I don’t know why, but it does.  The bottom line about the article seems to be that women shouldn’t feel trapped into breastfeeding.  I agree.  But I also highly recommend doing it for as long as you feel comfortable.  Because it is so snuggy.

Formula is not a feminist statement.  Choosing how to feed your child and not feeling bad about it is.


Filed under b00b food

Two Quick Things

1. I hate being a bitch at work.  I was a bitch at work today.  It sucks. Teachers should get one day off a month for PMS.

2. I spilled breast milk today.  It was just a little.  About an ounce.  It happened in slow motion with an echo effect as I said, “Noooooooo oooo oooo ooooo!”

I didn’t cry.

It made the day even worse.


Filed under b00b food, teaching

Why Breastmilk? My Real Reason.

My baby is seven months old.  He will be eight months old next week.  I went back to work when he was six months old.  So for the past two months I have been pumping breastmilk three times a day on workdays.  I’ve been hooking myself up to a machine that basically hurts, and tethers me to one spot, makes me look like a damn fool, and gives me empathy for dairy cows.  Aside from that I’ve been sterilizing bottles and pump parts many many times a day.

My day care providers, I’m sure, find it a little trying to defrost the milk in time for the baby to get hungry, but before he starts crying for the bottle.  I’m sure formula would be easier for them.  Which is why one of them has been saying to me, “Bring in a can of formula.  He has to get used to the taste.”  Right.  Not so much.  Since I plan to feed him primarily breastmilk until he is a year old.  After that he can have cow’s milk.  So no, he doesn’t need to get used to the taste.  Then the other day they told me the famous last words, “Bring more milk.”  I had been bringing in 12 ounces a day.  That’s how much I make a day.  Now they wanted 16.  I went online to research how much milk a baby his age needs.  They said 19-25 oz a day.  So 16 seemed like too much.  I called my doctor for backup.  He did not provide it.

Doc: Is he sleeping through the night now?

Me (proudly):  Yes!  he just started sleeping through this week.

Doc:  So, actually most of his eating will happen between nine and five.  Sixteen ounces may be erring on the side of too much, but I think you should send that much.  I know you think breastmilk is the best thing for him.  But you also don’t want him to go hungry.

Me: Hufff.

So I brought some formula to day care.  I said to the has-to-get-a-taste-for-it lady, “One bottle a day!  Only one!  And only if he’s hungry after the breastmilk, or if I need to come late.”  Then the other daycare provider came in, saw the formula and said, “No more breast milk for you!”  And touched my baby on the nose.  Yeah.  She really did that.  So I said it again, “NO.  Only ONE bottle of formula a day.  I’m only giving it to you because I can’t make 16 oz of breastmilk a day.  I’m not physically able to do it.  You need to feed him all the breastmilk I send.”

“Ok, ok.  Yes, yes,”  they said and shuffled me out the door.

So I went home and wrote a letter to the owner of the day care outlining how they should use the formula and emphasizing that I plan to feed him breast milk until he is one year old.

Here’s the thing I realized throughout this:  I’m not feeding him breastmilk because it is the best food for him.  I mean, yeah, that’s important.  But when I became threatened by the daycare ladies’ desire to ween my baby, I realized that it is because the milk is me.  And he needs me.  And the pump is him and I need him.  And without the pump and  the milk, I am completely seperate from my baby all day.  So that’s why I insist upon the breastmilk.  That is my real reason.


Filed under b00b food

Question for the Wise Wymmmmmyn of the IVP

A good friend was just kinda sorta diagnosed with “pre-mature ovarian failure,”  also known as pre-mature menopause.  This partial diagnosis was based on “unusually high” FSH levels.  Day three (or four) was a level of 28.  Are there other factors that you know of that might contribute to high FSH levels?  What should she ask her doctor when she meets her tomorrow?  Is there anything she can do aside from hormone replacement therapy?  Do any of you know of either a really good gyno or natural practitioner in the SF Bay area who can give her either a reliable second opinion or a non-hormone-replacement treatment option?

All hail the IVP.  I know you will have some answers for us.

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