Weaning at work....or not

Well, I tried weaning myself from pumping at work, but I'm not so sure it was a great idea. For the first time in what seems like A-G-E-S, I had a plugged duct this weekend. I was trying to come up with imaginitive ways to describe the excruciating pain to Nate. It's like a baseball stuck in your boob. It's like having a ginormous zit that is too deep to pop underneath your armpit. It's like sticking a pin in your bottom lip. It's like...

...okay, well, enough for now. Suffice it to say that I was a little grumpy this weekend. (And a little angry that the Booby Monster returned.) Eden eventually worked it out (I spent several delirious hours on Saturday dreaming about the phrase "worked it out" in this application and wishing it would be my happy luck) and all is better now. The sun has returned to the sky. The earth is once again spinning on it's axis. The planets have all realigned.

So you might wonder why I tried weaning myself from pumping at work. (Or maybe not. But I'm going to tell you anyway.) See, I love having a break at work, but I've pretty much stopped producing milk while I'm away from Eden. Our bodies are crazy smart this way. I used to absolutely obsess about keeping my milk supply up when I first came back to work and was a breastfeeding newbie. For the first three months or so (or maybe it was five-ish months? hm, don't remember) I would pump three times a day at work, and eventually worked up to bringing home about 10 ounces.

Ten ounces of pure gold. Precious, precious drops that took a lot of care and attention to extract from my being.

After Eden had been on solids for awhile (and now that she is old enough to drink cow's milk if she wants it) I cut back to one or two pumpings a day. Some days I would get busy and forget to pump at all. Eden still nurses four to six times a day on days I work, so I knew she was getting plenty of milk. And on the weekends or random days off she will nurse six to eight times or more, and I still have plenty of milk. So it seemed my body, the incredible milking machine, just knew when to turn production on and off.

I'm not really sure why this weekend was different. Maybe it was because Friday started off a little emotional for both of us; perhaps I made more milk because of that? Maybe I subconciously didn't offer her that side often enough since a little scratch from her sharp little fingernails had made it a little sore? Whatever the reason, it was painful enough that I think I'm going to pump at least on Mondays and Fridays now, to give my body a little bit of "easing into" the work week.

That, and I should probably pay a little bit more attention to my warning signals, e.g. IF IT HURTS, PUMP IT OUT. (You'd think I would have heard those warning bells on Friday, but No-ooo-oooo!).

In other news, I'm excited because this week I have a guest post published on one of my favorite blogs, http://www.hobomama.com/. I found Hobo Mama awhile back while trowling around online searching for explanations about some personal parenting choices of mine that modern society seems to raise an eyebrow at. (Things like sleeping together as a family, extended nursing, baby wearing, and the like.) If you're visiting my blog as a result of that, welcome! If you're one of my regular readers, be sure to check out Hobo Mama's site, too!

All of Fourteen Months

Forgot to post this one. She'll be 15 months next week. Oh, well. Better late than never!

"I swear," Nate says as he comes in the door at dinnertime after teaching, "I think she got older while we were gone today."

Well, yeah. She did. (We all did.) But - oh my goodness - she did!! Sometimes she seems to change so quickly she's an older baby in the short time it takes me to take a shower.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm too much of a pushover. I ran across this online:

"By the time your child is six, you will have reached what one psychologist we talked to calls "planned detachment." Your child will check in for breakfast, be out the door, check in for lunch, and be gone again. You'll say "You're looking well, dear," you'll write a note to remind him of chores, and finally at dinner you'll get to talk some. After dinner some card playing, singing, or other family-oriented activity reconnects you with the individual who used to stick to you like Velcro."

Okay. I can deal with that. Just knowing I'll be in the shower missing her in six short years makes the 2-minute-quickies-so-I-don't-have-a-FULL-on-tantrum a little easier to deal with.  ;)

The same article also said this:

"The time between the ages of fourteen and eighteen months is very hard for mothers. The high-energy toddler wants to do everything, but he still needs mother involved "big time." Mothers of one-year-olds need to gear up for this marathon spurt of giving, because the tendency is to think "Ah, now he's one – I'll be able to ease off." You will eventually, but not yet. Hang in there through age eighteen months, then be alert for signs that your toddler is trying to make space between you."

Now, I know every baby is different (and I would like to add that "hard" does not necessarily = "unpleasant." Being a mommy is wonderful, but it is hard!) but I think this is a great description of where we're at. Me, looking forward to getting different things done more often, like dishes, ironing, and (gasp!) maybe an art project or two. Eden, getting into anything and everything but sticking really close to Mommy (the velcro analogy is spot-on). It's so helpful to read things like this because it reminds me that every moment is precious, so fleeting, and worth remembering.

The 2-Mile Walk

Four kids.
One wagon.
One stroller.
Three mamas.
One dog.
A package of crackers.
One big sky,
Full of clouds.
Leaves and leaves and leaves
As far as the eye can see.

The 2-Mile Walk