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Archive for the ‘breastfeeding’ Category

Actually, Hadley Stilwell’s designs are very flattering and simple, perfect for back to work. Since it seems close to impossible to find nursing tops that are not hideous or that don’t stretch out in weird unnatractive ways, I thought I would feature these. They also have a great black jacket that looks like it could be a staple.

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I’m not sure if you’ve seen the show Futurama, but there was a great bit in an old episode. The main character, Philip Fry, (who is human) moves in with Bender (who is a robot). And Fry asks Bender, “where’s the bathroom?”

Bender: “The What-room?”

Fry: “The bathroom.”

Bender: “The Room-what?”

Fry: “The bathroom.”

Bender: “The What-What?”

I always thought that was hilarious. A few years later, on an episode of SNL, Keenan Thompson, playing a woman said, “whoa. It’s hot in here. I need some paper towels for my underboobs!”

I said: “What boobs?”

My husband said, “Underboobs.”

Me: “Boobs-what?”

My husband: “Underboobs!”

Me “Where-what?”

But now I know what underboobs are. Speaking of, we need to stock up on some paper towels.

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So we had a six year old visiting us this weekend, and he was very curious about the baby. He wanted to touch her and hold her and read to her and feed her half his slice of pizza.

When told that she only eats milk, he asked, “what’s her favorite flavor?”

I was stumped for a moment.

“I like strawberry,” he said. “If she drinks only milk, maybe it’s best if she has chocolate one day, and strawberry the next. Otherwise she’ll get bored.”

Duly noted.

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I still can’t believe that my body makes milk.

I know, I know, most natural thing in the world, et cetera.

But until a few months ago, I still associated milk with super market aisles.

And every time I pump milk, I’m like, “holy cow, look at that!”

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I always sort-of gagged when I saw the expression “liquid gold” to describe “mother’s milk.” It’s just too precious and cutesie and oh, gag me it’s all too saccharine sweet for pink-adorable-little-baby.

But then last night, my husband did a night feeding, and left over an ounce of milk out in a bottle on the counter top… to rot and turn to ick. I was so furious. I found myself saying to him, “this is like liquid gold, honey. You wouldn’t just throw out a bar of gold, would you?!”

He just looked at me like I was crazy. He’ll never know how difficult it is to drink glass upon glass of water and juice, to eat and eat even as I’m trying (and completely failing) to lose weight all in order to “keep up my milk supply.” Mine will vanish if I so much as forget to eat lunch, so I am vigilant. And, fortunately, it’s Girl Scout Cookie season.

Maybe it’s just the gold part of the expression that bugs me so much. I’m more of a silver girl really. Or perhaps it’s diamonds I love to think of… yes, diamonds will do.

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Poot City

Can I tell you something personal? It’s kinda gross. Since I became pregnant I’ve had a problem with… farting. Yes, now I regularly sound like my obnoxious younger brother at a Boy Scout retreat.

I have tried to vary what I eat (one day I ate only carbs to see if it helped… nope!) I have cut out broccoli and other harsh leafy greens, given up beans; no luck. I wonder if it could possibly, possibly have anything to do with the whole pregnancy/breastfeeding thing. I do know it’s fairly normal to have a pooty behind during pregnancy, but after?

Why does no one talk about this? (Ha, maybe I can guess). Does this happen to everyone? Is it just me? Am I in fact cursed with (as my mother calls it) the Farting Gene?!

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Wine Time

I had an Aunt named Gracie who was know for saying “four o’ clock–wine time!” at that exact time each day. Gracie was a lot of fun. Everyone liked her.

However, as I am usually up from two a.m. until eight a.m. with the small creature as she wails and wants to eat and spits up and wants to eat and wails, I feel like wine by ten a.m. So, the new phrase is clearly “ten o’ clock–wine time!”

If only, if only…

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