Friday, September 24, 2010

The Truth About Breastfeeding

Here is a little tidbit of truth that most mothers won't tell you.  If you breastfeed your child, you can save money and sleep through the night.  When my daughter was born, I had decided I was going to stay at home with her.  I figured she could be my job, and I was right... Boy, was I right.  When they say 24 hours a day, they mean it.  She had to be fed every 3 hours a night.  If you have never had a child, you could not imagine the severity of waking up two, or three, times a night to feed your child. 
I never thought I would breastfeed my children because I figured I devoted my body for 10 months to the nourishment of a baby.  I wanted my body back.  But, my husband believed it was important for a "bonding" experience between mother and child.  I thought his reasoning was sound, and adorable, so I thought I would at least give it a try. 
Let me tell you, it was the best decision I made, and have yet to make, during my tenure as a mother. 
I should mention that to say my breasts are large is an understatement.  My breasts are ungainly and, for the most part, have been a hindrance on my life.  When I was breast feeding my daughter, they finally made sense.  My breasts served a purpose.  Now, breast size means nothing when it comes to breast feeding. Small and medium tits work fine.  I have always hated my boobs but, for once, I could understand their purpose... Anyway, I felt more comfortable with my body when I was breast feeding.  The bonding experience is not just a bunch of new age babble.  It is real.  When it was time to wean my little girl, it was harder on me than it was on my daughter.  For 6 months of her life, she needed me to survive... Literally!  When she got hungry, only I could provide her sustenance.  But, that's not what I wanted to tell you.
What I want to express...
What I want to say is that breast feeding is so simple, it is almost unreal.  My friend had a baby 3 months before me and she did not breast feed.  When her baby cried, during the night, she had to get up, go downstairs, make a bottle, warm it, and come back up to feed the baby.  Not to mention the bottles she then had to clean.  When you breast feed, all you need is you and a baby.  I could lay on my side, lay my baby next to me, and presto!  We could fall back to sleep together.  I am a pretty light, to moderate, sleeper so I didn't have to worry about rolling over on her.  God, it was so easy. 
The other thing I wanted to talk about is the cost.  When my daughter was 6 months old, I learned a shocking truth... Formula is $7 a bottle.  She drank about a bottle and a half a day.  That was a huge pain in the ass. 
As you know, I am pregnant again, and I hope that my son is as easy to feed as my daughter was.  They say it is a different experience with every baby.  I welcome that experience.  I definitely recommend breast feeding to all the reasonable mother's out there.  It is not just a "spiritual" experience.  For me, it was the right choice.  If you are lazy and cheap, like me, give it a try. 

Friday, September 10, 2010

How Difficult Can It Be???

Have you ever tried to potty train a child?  I have lived through many tragedies and hardships.  I consider myself a strong person, but the chore of potty training my two year old is testing my fortitude.  This is like torture and... what's worse than torture?  My little trainee is probably the best specimen I could ask for.  She questions the fundamentals of this process.  How can I explain it in a way that applies as little shame as possible to the act of shitting one's pants?  I have to iterate to her the possibility of using the potty as a cleaner, more mature, way of evacuating the bowels and bladder.  I, as a "good" mother, don't want my little girl to feel bad about slipping up. 
The issue at this point, about day 5... who the hell knows, for sure?..., is her inability to properly gauge when it is time to go potty.  She senses the "need" about 5 minutes too early, and abandons the endevour about 30 seconds too early.  She decides her need to pee-pee is a false alarm, walks away, and pisses on the carpet about five feet from the potty.  This happens about thirty times from seven A.M. til three P.M.  I am afraid, by day 8 or so, I will have lost my ability to use the potty.  I have never felt this level of frustration in my life.  She has to go "pee-pee, poo-poo, potty, doo-doo, YUCK!" about every ten minutes, and has to shed all garments in order to mentally prepare herself to eventually lose heart and abandon this process, altogether.  Nine tenths of my days are spent chasing a two year old, naked, child up and down hallways... all around the fucking place.  She is like an evil little devil cherub who's lost her wings, bobbing and weaving.  She is cursing and swearing in her little gibberish language. 
I long to spank her... 
How evil would it be to spank a beautiful little, angel faced, girl just for not knowing how to use a toilet?  My mind is going...
The worst part of this whole thing is that my daughter is having a ball.  She never becomes frustrated.  She uses every opportunity to get buck naked and streak all over the place.  She loves it... loves it. 
God love her. 
God help me!

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Toddlers, Tiaras, and Childsploitation!

Is there a more horrifying form of child abuse, aside from molestation? I saw a beautiful little three year old crying because she didn't win a crown.  She didn't win a crown! As I watch this train wreck of a show, my two year old lays on the bed covered in peach juice.  She doesn't understand the point of the show.  Why aren't we watching "Nemo"?  Why, the hell, aren't we watching "Nemo"?  I think I am mezmerized by this show to see how low the parents will sink.  How badly they will behave?  Could you imagine spray tanning your three year old?  What the fuck?  I don't care who they are, or what their particular malfunctions are. These parents are sick!  Brow beating a baby until she suffers and emotional break, in front of a bunch of pageant moms and pedophiles, should be punishable by law.  Today, there is a marathon of hearbreak and abuse.  I think I am finished.  It's my own fault.  I watch too much TV.  My daughter is diving head first into a crate of toys, and I am wasting my time watching this shit on TV.  I do have an additional question... How do these ogres have such beautiful little girls.  I am no prize, I know that, but these broads are rough.  They need to stop worrying about buying false teeth for their little girls, and get their own teeth looked after.  I have such a hatred and disdain for these sick bitches, I don't feel bad about expressing it.  I know that these types of people have been around forever, but I don't understand the need to put them on TV.  If this wasn't on, there might be something good on.  I watch crap, and this is too shitty for me!  Oh well!  I think I'll take my daughter's advice.  We'll watch "Nemo"... I think I am going to try to talk her into "Monster's Inc.", instead.

Friday, September 3, 2010

My Days as a Shut In

The new school year has started, and I am left to give every waking second to my daughter, the housework and my gestating baby boy.  I couldn't be happier!  I am an introvert at heart.  It seems that, without having to empathize with the problems of others, I don't really have anything to worry about.  The days just fly by.  I should feel... ashamed?... I guess most people would say that I should surround myself with people.  Don't get me wrong.  I have friends, but I don't interject myself into the lives of others.  I don't care if no one thinks about me during the day.  I know my husband thinks about me.  I know my daughter thinks about me... or what I can do for her, rather!  I am content with that.  When the time comes that I can be alone with my daughter and an unfolded pile of laundry, or a bowl full of potatoes that need peeling, I feel really zen.  I feel lucky to have such well defined goals.  I feel indulged with the idea that I don't have to conquer anything too complex.  I know that the time will come that I will need to battle a crisis, or cry for the persecuted of the world, but today I don't have to do that. 
For most of my life, I have been raised to believe that I should be more social.  I have never felt that way.  I know that probably no one will read this blog, but that doesn't change the fact that I am writing it.  I am probably just selfish, but I am okay with that too.  Who am I hurting? 
I went to Wal-Mart last night and had an hour, or so, to myself.  I pondered whether, or not, to buy some rust-colored Better Homes and Gardens throw pillows.  That was the extent of my evening.  I didn't buy them, by the way.  Pillows are another post, altogether!
I think I am finally happy with myself.  I am in love with my babies and my husband.  I love them and worry about them, and I know that they love me.  What else do I need. 
I know I sound way too happy.  I am not on drugs.  I will write plenty of "bitchy" posts.  I figured I would give my readers, and myself, a break.
Well... My little girl is begging for Cheetos.  Duty Calls! 

Thursday, September 2, 2010

What's Going On?

I promised myself I would not allow my frustration and hormonal changes to inspire my blog, but I have been freaked out for a few days now, and I have to purge.  I am not an idiot.  I don't spare myself the tragedies of the world.  I saw a program on TV, the other day, about a big problem in Tanzania.  I am normally not too shocked about anything, but I was so disheartened by this program.  I wished, after having watched the show, that I hadn't watched it. 
Apparently, a lot of people in Tanzania are born with albinism.  They have no pigment in their bodies.  The sun and bright lights are dangerous to these people.  But, the main thing they have to worry about is being killed and having their bones and organs sold to witch doctors!  It is a superstition in the region that albino blood and bones are blessed by "God".  These witch doctors purchase human body parts as if they were buying a cut up chicken.  At the time of the documentary, a four year old albino girl had gone missing.  Before the end of the documentary, they found her dead in the street... with her throat cut and her legs cut off.  How horrifying!  What a tragic story. 
As a parent, I have to wonder about the destruction that desperation and religion cause when paired together.  I worry, so much, about the state of the world in which my children live.  I also have to ask myself, what do I have to worry about that is as bad as having a child that is being watched and potentially hunted, every day, for his/her body parts.  I feel so helpless and hopeless.  I do lose sleep for that state of the human race.  I hope that our children, the children of the world, will be a little more industrious than we have been.  Maybe, they will be able to change things.
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