Highly reactive to:
Egg White
Egg Yolk
Garlic
Kamut
Pineapple
Rye
Spelt
Wheat Gliadin
Wheat Gluten
Whole Wheat

Moderately reactive to:
Almond
Cantaloupe
Chili Pepper
Grapefruit
Orange

This makes life difficult… to say the least.

The first thing is, is that I cannot get enough protein into that kid without egg, so his vegetarianism is out of the picture. He doesn’t like lentils and beans enough and I am not comfortable to feed him more soy than I already am (which isn’t much; he gets tofu about twice a week).

Second: a gluten AND egg AND garlic sensitivity? IT IS SUCH A PAIN IN THE AAAASSSSSS.

Third: I’m going to wean him. I can’t go egg and gluten free (for I would most certainly die) and even the trace amounts he’d get from his one or two nursing sessions per day is enough to mess up his new diet enough to cancel out all the work we’ve got to put into it. So, by the end of the month we should be all done. Crazy.

Forth: Thank god for Naturopaths, without seeing a Naturopath this never would have been solved. Every SINGLE doctor I’ve taken Ash to, from my family doctor to a Pediatrician to several allergy specialists have not taken me seriously, told me he’s too young for allergies or sensitivities, told me that some steroid cream will do the trick (starting at six months he’d break out in eczema when he – or I – had banana), rather than figuring out what was CAUSING it.

I cannot recommend Naturopaths enough. They’ve changed the way I look at food and how it effects our bodies. They look deeper into things and get at the ROOT of the issue, rather than how doctors approach health issues, which tends to be just by slapping a band-aid on it and calling it a day. Seeing a Naturopath has changed our lives, and I encourage every single person- whether you have health issues or not- to go and see one to improve your quality of living. They’re usually covered by insurance plans, in case you’re wondering. With their help and eliminating all of these stresses to his system, we’re hoping Ash will have full hearing soon and his nose will stop being runny all the time.

So far the introduction of poultry and fish has not gone so well:

The past couple of months have been a blur. A stressful blur full of “what? huh? pardon? whadyousay?” You are having some serious issues being able to hear, especially when there’s background noise like when you’re in the car or the bathtub. It was noticeable a couple of months ago, but it seems to be getting worse by the day and it’s scary. Your father and I have taken you to two doctors and are still waiting to be scheduled in to see a specialist. We’re both hoping it’s nothing serious, possibly brought on by an undiagnosed food sensitivity causing some fluid buildup in your ears, but we’re scared. Very, very scared.

I’ll say key words when I’m near you, things like, “Ash do you want some candy?” and I have to raise my voice in order for you to be able to hear me. It’s not like I’m whispering, it’s not like you’re far away- we’ll be beside each other and I’ll say it at a normal volume, and there’s absolutely no response from you at all. No acknowledgment that I just offered you candy, not a glance my way, not a “huh? wha?” from you, nothing.

Please be okay.

You’ve gained a lot of fine motor control over the past couple of months and have even started drawing- ACTUAL DRAWINGS! These are the first two recognizable things you ever drew: The first is a copy of my stick person (you added on another set of arms) and then a pair of boobs. We have your father to thank for that one…

Then, shortly after you drew these pictures you drew on the glass door a “person.” How cool! You did it all by yourself!

I have some big news. It’s taken more than 2.5 years, but you’re finally, FINALLLLY SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT! All it took was for me to stop nursing at night… who knew? Yes, the night weaning process was slightly brutal and took too long, but I don’t look back at it with any ill feelings, even though you certainly had a hard time with it at first, and now it’s over and done with and it’s lovely. And we sleep better than ever. I don’t regret nursing on demand for all of those years, it felt right at the time and I stopped when I was tired of it. Also, for the record, I don’t feel ANY more well-rested now that I’m sleeping a solid seven or eight hours rather than being woken up every 1.5-2 hours for a quick nurse.

Nursing isn’t the cure-all like it used to be, though. It no longer puts you to sleep at night (though it does for your naps), and so I think it may be soon time to stop completely. I feel like it’s time (though I have been saying that for months now!).

It’s spring here now, and we’ve been planting in the garden and you’ve been very helpful with watering and watching the plants grow. I am excited for the summer so that we can go swimming and play outside more. You’re very good on your two-wheeler bicycle (with training wheels).

Your father and I love you so much. We love to see you grow and learn and mimic us (the other night we noticed that when I’d lift up the bun on my burger you’d do exactly the same thing seconds after looking at me do it… small things like that). I love to see you learn to read. I love to hear you talk about getting older, “on my next birthday, when I’m THREE, I’m going to get Bill and Ben, Percy, blue Sally and JAMES!!”

You never cease to amaze me, you’re the light in every single one of my days. I love you so much.

Love,
Mama

Mission: COMPLETE.

Most nights, unless I’m totally exhausted and fall asleep with him, we nurse for 15 minutes, cuddle for another five minutes, I’ll give him a one-minute warning, he’ll ask for another minute of cuddles, and then I’ll go, promising to be back soon and we’ll cuddle all night long. “Cuddle all night long!” he’ll repeat back, and then I’ll get up, close the door, and that’s it.

Spending 20 minutes every night is probably cumbersome for many parents out there, but it’s always my favorite part of the day. It’s time for me to lay in silence with my son, nourish him, sometimes we get silly, sometimes we whisper secrets, sometimes I rub his back, sometimes I just hold him, but I always love it (as long as it doesn’t last 45 minutes, because when bedtime takes that long, I cannot enjoy it, no matter how hard I try, and I get quite pissed and then send Clive in to finish up).

Since cutting out night nursing my milk supply has dropped and my boobs have shrunk down to a C again (they were very likely more than a DDD two years ago), and Ash can spend a lot of time suckling and there’s not a lot of swallowing happening. The other night I counted how many tongue thrusts between swallows, and they were few and far between- 27 tongue thrusts at one point, less than a second between each one. He’s not getting a lot of milk at all, and at this point I’m feeling…

done.

I never wanted to wean Ash (I wanted it to be a mutual decision), but I’m feeling ok(ish) with the idea that it can probably happen soon(ish). He’s showing no desire to stop nursing, so I’m afraid that this will pretty much be a one-sided decision, and that fact alone makes me sad, as I’ve always followed his lead with everything, actively WEANING makes me feel like I’m doing something unnatural. But at the same time, he’s 2.5 years old and I’ve passed my goal of two years nursing and looking at that alone, I should feel okay about it… but I don’t.

I’m so proud of nursing a toddler (though, I was proud throughout the whole thing), proud that I made it through, proud that I do what’s right for HIM, what benefits OUR health and our relationship, proud that I’ve been able to get past the first six weeks, past mastitis, past the insane amounts of plugged ducts, past the engorgement after going back to work, past the wakeup calls every 1.5 hours for his entire life, past EVERYTHING and most importantly, done what his little unselfish body wants and needs.

Someone said to me that when I’m done nursing I’ll probably have a kind of identity crisis because it is so much of who I am (I’ve never known motherhood without it, after all), it’s what I identify with, it’s what I believe in, what I’m passionate about. The thought does scare me a little (to the non-nursing people out there, I don’t expect you to get it, and maybe to the some of the nursing people reading, you may not get it either).

So, back to what I was saying at the start of this entry, Ash just went to bed. This was my first night putting him to sleep without giving him milk. I told him that we should just cuddle. He grabbed onto them as he usually does and asked if they were “dirty” (???) and so I said that they were (uh, they’re not) and he asked why, so I said that it was because I didn’t have a shower today. He was okay with that. No tears. No whining. I told him that mama milk is for little boys, but he’s a big boy. He said it was for big boys too, but still was okay with me saying no. I have been telling him that milk is for babies and little boys a lot lately, and I feel so gross by telling him that, lying to him, manipulating him into thinking he’s not welcome to it.

So, I feel quite done with nursing, but there is another side to this, which I will write about in order to be completely honest with myself.

Since night weaning I’ve been gaining weight. Nursing burns off a lot of calories, especially when nursing every couple of hours), and nothing else about my lifestyle has changed, but I’m heavier than I used to be a couple of months ago, heavier so that my favorite pants do not fit like they used to, heavier so that my face looks chubby, heavier so that the scale is more than it has been since I was pretty newly post partum (I lost all my weight within about three weeks except for about 5-10lbs), and ugh, it makes me feel so awful about myself that I’m willing to do just about anything to take it off (haha, as any of us fatties like to say, “except eat right and exercise”), including wean. Many of my friends shed like 10-20lbs quickly after weaning because their hormones changed away from being a nursing woman to being just a woman, and I crave a quick fix like that for these sneaky extra pounds that have been creeping on, slowly but surely.

What a horrible, horrible, selfish reason to want to wean. And the worst part is, is that I actually think that my body won’t shed those pounds just from weaning ANYWAY. But I hope, and I dream, and I think, “if I could just wean, I would be thinner.”

I’ve struggled with weight ever since I can remember, mostly the head-fuckery of it all, thinking I’m fat when I’m really not (14 years old and 112lbs I remember how fat I thought my thighs were), getting fat and being in denial, and every single time my weight went down it was not because of any exercise, or really any diet change. It was just my body adjusting somehow and the weight coming off by itself. Every time I have tried exercising and dieting, nothing has changed. I did 21 days of “The 30 Day Shred” and lost nothing, so stopped doing it. Clive and I would do weight lifting classes twice a week and a yoga/pilates/tai chi class every week and my body didn’t change at all. The only time I lost weight on purpose was when I was smoking a LOT, drinking a LOT of caffeine and was able to beat my sugar addiction for the first time in my life. Then people told me I looked unhealthy (which I didn’t), because they weren’t used to seeing me at a fairly normal weight.

Anyway, I’m looking for a quick fix, and for some reason I think that weaning will be it, and I know in a few months when Ash is off the boob and I’m still as heavy (if not heavier), I’ll be kicking myself and hating my motivations even more. Fuck body issues. FUCK THEM.

You’ve changed so much in the past two months, it’s hard to remember how you once were! You’re entirely a little boy now, full sentences, complete grasp on language, and your information-sponge brain is CRAZY COOL.

“Don’t say no, that’s not very nice!!” is what I hear about 10x a day, including if I’m just answering a question your father has asked me like, “did you read this book?” You say that sentence with such gusto and determination- especially when I’m telling you no when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be, that we’ve had to start saying other things rather than no, such as “RED LIGHT!” (thanks, day care!) or moving your attention to something you are allowed to do. No one wants to hear the word no so often, so I don’t blame you.

Sometimes at night when I come to bed and you stir awake, or if you’re having a hard time falling asleep and I’m feeling especially patient, you and I will whisper. I’ll tell you a story from when I was a little girl, or we’ll talk about things that you like, like your toys. You’re completely captive, silent, still, and we focus on each other and I feel the bond between us growing stronger and stronger. I love this quiet time.

My mom told me that when her kids were about your age, her grandfather said to her that she didn’t know it yet, but this is the best time of her parenthood. I thought about that, and knew that my great-grandfather was right; you’re safe, I know where you are at all times, you’re too young to know how big and scary the world is, the things that make you the happiest are raisins and dinky cars. Your life is simple, beautiful, and because of that, so is mine.

You understand plays on language now, like if your father says “Value Village, not Val-ME Village!” You get a kick out of it! Same with “me too, me three” etc.

Your hobbies are still the same as they have been since you were six months old. Cars. Trucks. Trains. We went bowling with your uncle Jarrod in your 29th month, and with some help and not sticking to the three-ball rule, you scored higher than anyone else! We’re also really, really bad! You are getting better and better with knowing car names, car logos and now the makes of cars. When we’re driving, you’ll go “Ford. Honda. Mazda.” about all of the passing cars. You can tell what a brand new dinky car is just by the shape of it (which passes my knowledge of cars), proven the night that your uncle brought you a brand new yellow car, and your dad asked you, “look at this car and tell us what kind it is.” You studied the front (not seeing the logo) and confidently said, “Porche.” Easy. You’ve got a major collection of them now, and your favorite just happens to be a piece of crap plastic one with eyes that looks like it’s from the movie Cars. Of course. Thanks for that, Disney.

There were a few big snowstorms in the past couple of months, and you always love to come outside and help us with your little wooden shovel. Sometimes you last two minutes, sometimes 45. The snowstorm in the pictures below was the worst one of the year, and even though it doesn’t LOOK like that much snow, shovelling took us two hours!

Okay, here’s the parenting part of your newsletter, more importantly the breastfeeding part I know you’ll probably cringe at once you’re older: NO MORE NIGHT NURSING. We’re done! Kaput! Over! Finito!!! It was a loonnnng process to cut it out completely, but in the end, totally worth it and you are sleeping so much more soundly and I feel totally comfortable knowing that you had it for so long and I sacrificed so much sleep for your health for nearly 2.5 years, but I’m THRILLED that it’s over. It was hard on both of us, because you did get so sad when I first started trying to cut it out, and then you got so so so angry with me, but then you started getting used to being told no, not yet, soon, and eventually I stopped saying “soon” and just said no, and you didn’t complain, and then we were offically done with nursing after 7:30pm! You will still ask for it at least once while we’re sleeping, but I just say that the “milkies are sleeping” and you accept that pretty much without a fuss, and then we go back to sleep. Now, if I could get your hand away from cupping my boobs, I’d be happy!

You still nurse before bed, but we’re actually getting you to fall asleep without a boob in your mouth. Usually it’s with a dinky car or your two bears Cheswick and Maroon, I lay with you for a while after a short nursing session (there’s hardly any milk there, I don’t even let down anymore), and after a while I say, “one more minute and then I’m going to go” and you say “okay.” And then when I get up to go, you beg, “one more minute of cuddles!” and I stay for one more minute and then kiss you goodnight and tell you that I’ll be back soon and then we’ll cuddle all night long (to which you say, “yeah, cuddle all night long!”), and then you easily fall asleep alone, happy!

We bought you a big boy bed in February, and you started your night off in that bed, in your own room for about a week before you started fighting sleep so much that you wouldn’t go to sleep until 11pm. So, you’re not ready to leave the family bed. I’m a-ok with that, because the first night we started you off there I thought that I could keep you there until morning (theoretically) and you know what? I totally cried. So when it came time for me to go to bed, I picked you up, apologized to your dad, and brought you back into bed with me. The rest of the nights I promised you that I’d bring you back into the big bed again to help ease the transition, and you actually stopped fighting going to your big boy bed to sleep, but then as soon as you started refusing sleep, well, that was it for me. There’s plenty of time before you should sleep in your own bed, and I’m in no rush. Especially now that you’re sleeping all night long.

Last month we battled a pretty major flu. It kept you home from school for a week, and I think your dad was home from work for three days too. Your dad barfed on the floor, you just slept. The worst day was when you slept for 19 hours. You were awake from noon till 5pm, and that was it for the entire day. You didn’t talk, you didn’t move, you just sat or laid there. You did throw up once, and you did have a fever, but it was scary just because of how much you weren’t yourself. Seeing you ill is hard on everyone.

You can go to the bathroom by yourself now, you can pull your pants on and off, you even got changed into your pajama bottoms all by yourself this month, and even though it shouldn’t excite me this much, I was like, “HOLY MOTHER, ASH!!! You are AMAZING!!!”

Last month we did a few activities, like visiting the science center:

and go skating, which you liked just as much as you did last year:

and explore the icicles, which really are cool, even to me!

Now that the weather is warming up, I’m hoping we’ll have more days at the park, less time shovelling snow. I long for the days we spent at the playground, even though this winter was relatively snowless. You and I go to the library every week to pick up new books, which you listen to and memorize within two reads, and even though our weeks all tend to blend into one another, you never really seem bored. You really love to go to Value Village with your dad on Saturdays (and as a family on Sundays), you like to wade in the pool with me on Wednesdays (though you’re still pretty scared of the deep water and do not enjoy anything remotely like swimming), but we can’t wait to bring you to the lakes again, your dad wants to take you fishing, and it makes me realize how much of a little boy you are when I see you running and jumping and sliding down slides all by yourself now.

Your favorite foods are: raisins, cereal, goat’s cheese, kamut noodles (with tomato sauce or pesto), soy milk, mozzarella cheese, Vinta crackers, anything sweet, toast and tofu. You don’t eat a lot of vegetables. You’ve been taking a multi-vitamin for the past several months, and is always the first thing you in the morning, “Tiiiiiiime to geeeet uuuuuup. I want a bear vitamin!” and we’ve recently started you on some fish oil to get your omega 3s, because you weren’t getting them from any other source.

Your Nana keeps saying, “I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with him!” Sometimes, when I think about how far you’ve come, my mind is blown too. It’s gone by so fast, you’re such a big boy now, with real friends and likes and dislikes, with talents and interests. It’s so amazing to watch you grow and learn. You even spelled “up” last month. We were sounding out the word and I asked you which letters were in the word up and you said “U P!”

There aren’t two prouder parents than your dad and I.

Love,
Mama

If I was a betting lady, I’d say (with fingers crossed) that night nursing may be coming to a close.

I’ve been trying to slow down for months (hell, years) now, but was always met with so much resistance (read: THE DEVASTATION! the wails! the earth-crumbling tears!) that I figured that it was just easier to go with it and keep him happy and asleep and when he was ready, it would stop.

Well, the past few months have been hard, with me spending my days and then evenings working so much, to be woken up every two hours through the night to nurse (and then to have the demand to “switch sides!” vocalized by a little 27lb man), I just was too tired to keep up with it, so started saying “no.” Again, with the wails. Some nights I stuck with it, and just tried to comfort him other ways, some nights I just gave in, and some nights I tried to say no, but then would give up and pretend like I was just saying no until he said “the magic word.” He smartened up pretty quickly and would then ask, “milk please!!!”

Then he started getting angry when I’d tell him no, and the hitting started. For a few weeks, he’d fling his arms and legs out, with the intention of hurting me, getting back at me for telling him no. Then the hitting suddenly stopped, and in the past week or so, I’ve been able to tell him “soon” instead of no, and have successfully switched it from every two hours to ONCE a night, usually between 4:30-4:40am. He still demands to be cuddled and to “touch them” (his words, not mine), and if he could sleep with each hand cupping a boob all night long, that’s exactly what he would do. I figure this will slowly stop too, and then we’ll be done with nursing.

My milk supply is quickly depleting. Clive mentioned the other day that my boobs are almost back to their normal size (which was a C, they’re currently a D), and because it’s happened so gradually, I’ve hardly noticed. I’m working on a blurb book for Ash and came across this photo of him and my ENORMOUS BOOBS and could hardly believe it. I always thought there were a DD at their biggest, but he’s about two months old in that picture, and they’re way bigger than a DD. I remember looking down at my newborn and realizing that my boob was about twice as big as his head, but seriously- those suckers are huuuuge. I do not miss them.

Now, whether I’ll miss nursing is hard to say. I mean, of course I will. I almost feel “ready” to let it go. I never offer Ash the boob, he always comes to me, but I dread the idea of trying to get him to nap during the day or to fall asleep at night without the power of my milk. Clive can get him to go to sleep on his days solo with him, but only by driving him around (the beloved “Drive of Shame”), and that is not a reasonable alternative for me.

I’ve given up hope that he’ll get the chicken pox before we’re done nursing- there was a major attempt at a small Pox Party before Christmas, but nothing came of it, but he’s sick right now and his appetite is absolutely gone (yesterday he ate about 30 raisins, and today he drank diluted apple juice and french fries), so I’m happy that he’s getting a least a little bit of my milk, albeit a very small amount- at least it’s best possible thing he could ever ingest.

It’s the small changes I notice; when he’s hurt now he doesn’t immediately ask for milk. When he’s hungry he doesn’t immediately ask for milk. When he comes home from school he doesn’t immediately ask for milk. When he stirs in the middle of the night he doesn’t immediately ask for milk. I’m 100% following his lead on this one, and I’d be happy to nurse once a day for the next year, but I have a sneaking suspicion that that won’t be happening.

But then, I spoke to a woman on the telephone on Saturday who wouldn’t stop praising my “10 Things I’d Wish I’d Known” post over at the Nurtured blog, everything felt right again. The owner and I (and the rest of the girls, of course) really try to make the store feel more like a community of like-minded (or open-minded) parents, rather than just a store. When we first opened I really pushed to have a breastfeeding support group the owner found a volunteer doula (who is a mom of five) and is just as passionate about breastfeeding as I am and is FAR more knowledgeable than I am, and it’s been up and running since the early summer. When I see new moms come into the store looking totally desperate and then they spend some time with the facilitator and leave looking like new life and hope has been breathed into them, it’s amazing. I feel so privileged to be part of this center of natural parenting in Halifax.

Anyway, in case you can’t find it, my Ten Things entry is below:

A little backstory: I was like April- and probably like most women out there- I did my research before giving birth. Actually, I did a LOT of research. Before having my son, I was in the IT field, and the job I had “allowed” me to spend seven hours a day reading- and that’s what I did. I read every single thing I could about being pregnant and giving birth. Every book, website and online forum that I could get my hands on, I absorbed. I absolutely loved reading about it, and so for eight months- no word of a lie- I read about being pregnant.

What I didn’t read much about was what to expect post-partum. I blame it on the fact that there isn’t a lot out there about it. It doesn’t makes sense! Our bodies go through the most major change it can in a very short period of time- the transition from going from pregnant to not pregnant and that’s enormous!

Forget the birth, you’re warned that it’s probably going to be the hardest thing you’ll ever go through, and it IS hard for most of us, it’s the next couple of weeks- or months sometimes- that can really effect you as a person.

I had a 35-hour labour with 2.5 hours of pushing and a successful vaginal birth with no episiotomy or forceps or other intervention. I did have an epidural after 22 hours, which wore off before my son was born, and I turned down all the other pain medication they offered me.

Here’s what I wish I would have known:

1) How brutal my recovery was going to be. Along with a long labour, my son was posterior, and although he flipped just before exiting my body, he sprained something in my tail bone area and I was unable to walk for about six weeks because of the extreme amount of pain that even just standing caused me.

The swelling that comes along with a vaginal birth was something I was unprepared for. I remember my doctor commenting on it when she was stitching up my small tears, and the nurses recoiling at the sight of me when they would come in to check on the size of my uterus and the condition of my vagina after I gave birth (which they will do to you, too). The swelling only lasted about a week, but everything was unrecognizable and uncomfortable. I remember taking a mirror out on day four and was horrified- and the swelling had decreased a lot at that point! I was terrified that things were not ever going to look the same again.

2) That you can bleed for six weeks straight. Oh, how I wish that I would have had cloth pads for my recovery time. No tampons, no Diva Cup, you’re committed to wearing a pad 24/7 for your entire post partum bleeding. The thread from my stitches would get stuck to the weave in the plastic pads, and would pull and darn near kill me. (I only use the cloth pads and diva cup for my period now, and I will never, ever go back to plastic and tampons! April and I joke that the cloth pads are like “sitting on a cloud!”)

3) Cosleeping feels good. I figured it would, it was one of the things that I knew I was going to do before my son was born, but it’s still one of my very favorite things about being a parent. Though I know it’s not for everyone, it really made my nursing relationship easy. My son has never cried at night- not once- because I was always there for him. It was easy for me to get to him before he got upset, which meant less stress for me and more sleep for everyone.

4) Are you in your first trimester and eating everything? Or do you remember the constant hunger that your pea-sized baby caused you to have? It’s NOTHING compared to breastfeeding hunger. I was never full, I was constantly stuffing my face, only to be finished a full meal and be starving all over again. Feeding that little baby gives you a good guilt-free reason to eat whatever you want to. Cherish it!

5) Do you know why you’re going to be constantly hungry? Because that baby WILL ALSO BE CONSTANTLY HUNGRY. I hear it time and time again at Nurtured- moms coming in, thinking that they’re doing something wrong, that their milk isn’t working, that there has to be something more they can do to make that baby eat less often. Honey, I feel for you, because just like yours- and everyone else’s- babies eat ALL THE TIME. Nursing every half hour for an hour and a half? Normal! Especially during growth spurts (the most desperate moms I see are the ones around the 10-14 day mark, which was also my lowest point. Day 10 was the worst day I’ve ever had as a parent, because I literally nursed from 9pm-6am non-stop).

6) I was lucky and didn’t suffer from an ounce of post-partum depression. Instead, I saw everything through rose coloured glasses. I was high for days, weeks, heck, I KNOW I don’t see the world like I used to. My child, my beautiful child. Everything he did and does is magnificant. And you will probably feel the same way too. However, there are devastating lows. That day 10 I was talking about? I was throwing pillows at the wall, yelling, swearing, because I just.wanted.to.go.to.sleep. When it’s good, it’s great, and when it’s bad, it’s bad. Hormones rushing, sleep deprivation like you’ve never experienced in your life, and someone else- who is a mere eight pounds- is suddenly your boss… I’m telling you now, you’re going to be up and down, down and down. Love like you never though possible, and stress like you’ve never experienced in your life. If you feel out of control, go and seek help, immediately. Please.

The biggest thing that helped me was just “surrendering.” It’s something I’ve always practiced once I realized that it was the easiest thing to do. If my son wanted to be awake in the middle of the night and he was just NOT falling asleep and I was getting more and more irratated, I would surrender and just get up with him. Giving in to what he wanted- even if I didn’t want to or see the sense in it- that was my answer. If he didn’t want to stop nursing for three hours, and I spent the first two hours gritting my teeth and muttering under my breath to just be DONE ALREADY, I’d surrender and spend my last hour giving in. It took lots of reminding myself- but they are never trying to inconvenience you, they are never trying to manipulate you- their wants are their needs. Period. Let them tell you when they need to eat or sleep, don’t try to control them, because it’s just going to be more of a headache.

7) You’re going to be invisible. Pregnant women are complimented and stared at and spoken to and asked questions and worshiped. YOU WILL NOT EXIST when that baby is born. If you’re lucky like I was and had a mother who made it a point to greet me before the child, who nurtured me before anyone else, then it will be a little more bearable. Find those people and spend as much time with them, because everyone else will see the baby and you will be forgotten. Strangers will ask you the same questions over and over, “boy or girl, how old are they, what’s their name” instead of your usual “when are you due, do you know the sex” etc etc.

I got so used to being invisible in fact, that when I went back to work after 18 months I felt totally NAKED when I walked down the street without my kid. It took me weeks to get over it, because I was so used to being ignored and having everyone past me, and at my child. They finally saw ME as a person, not just as someone’s mom.

I would get so annoyed at strangers who would tell me, “Cherish this time” because I really felt like I was, but I really didn’t know how fast it would all go. They tell you that, too, but it’s true. One of the best things I ever did was write my son a very detailed monthly newsletter with pictures and stories and details about that month’s achievements. I love to look back and have a record of his development, otherwise I would have forgotten so many of the small details.

9) Happiest Baby on the Block is my very favorite book to recommend to pregnant women and new parents. It saved my butt. (There’s even a DVD!) It’s got methods to decrease the crying (and therefore stress) in the first three months in plain and simple language. It lets you know key tricks (swaddling, side/stomach position, shushing sounds, swinging, sucking) that seem like common sense, but in that sleep deprevation haze may not be clear. It was one of the very best parenting books I’ve ever read.

10) Don’t get too comfortable. If you have a great night of sleep, it doesn’t mean the next night is going to be the same. My son is 28 months old and has slept through the night six times. SIX. I found myself thinking after each night that he’d sleep through that things were going to stay that way. Lo and behold, the next night wouldn’t be the same as the night before, so I stopped setting myself up for dissapointment and I just rolled with it. I took every night, good or bad, for what it was, and never tried to predict what the next night was going to be.

I guess to sum things up, I’ll say: It’s hard. It’s wonderful, but hard. Follow their lead, TRUST YOUR BODY (especially your breasts!) and get as much support as you can. “This too shall pass.”

You’re going to be great!! You’re already great! Way to go!

You’re 28 months old today! Outside of Christmas, it’s been a pretty uneventful month, with us hunkering down and trying to make it through these cold days.

This month we made our very first snowman together, which you named “Frosty,” of course. You got a kick out of him, especially watching him melt in the warmer days following the snowstorm.

Christmas this year was fun and I spoiled you. Lots of cars and trucks, some knitted play food (a sandwich, a cookie, a strawberry- inspired by the fact that you’d bring me car tires piled high and tell me that it was a sandwich), a puzzle and your biggest present was a wooden parking garage. You were very excited to see it, and you’ve hooked it up to your train tracks and play with it as often as you can.

After our own little Christmas here at our house we went to my mother’s house, your Nana’s, with the rest of the family. Ambera and Oliver, Jarrod and Ellie (who are expecting their first baby this spring), and Nana and Dee. We opened more presents and ate dinner and played with toys.

This was the first Christmas I’ve been really excited for in years and years, and I know it’s just going to keep getting better. I love seeing the world from your eyes.

I had a week-long vacation between Christmas and New Years, so you and I got to spend a lot of quality time together. It was lovely. One of those days was really warm, so we packed everyone up and went to Peggy’s Cove. You really loved the lighthouse and waves (this was your second or third time there), and your dad was helping you “jump” over all the big rocks. You laughed the whole time.

This month you started the “watch me, mama!” phase as you do something random and make me watch you intently. I remember it well from my own childhood, but definitely not this early. I used to make my mom rate my dives into the water from 1-10 and cartwheels and whatever else. You don’t need anything like that (yet), but you enjoy my attention. You tend to be much more self-sufficient while you’re alone with your dad- he can leave you alone in your room while you play with cars and he surfs the internet or naps on the couch. When you’re with me, it’s all me, all the time. If I try to check my email, you drive your cars on my keyboard or directly in front of me, if not ON me.

You know a zillion songs. School taught you all a ton of carols, and you love Wheels on the Bus, Five Little Ducks, Do You Know the Muffin Man, The Itsy Bitsy Spider, the list goes on. Every single common song out there that’s meant for kids your age, you know it off by heart. You’ve also started singing, not just reciting.

In our basement is where you and your dad hang out in the mornings, and there’s a tricycle, wagon, bicycle with training wheels, your ride-on lawnmower that you got for Christmas from Nana and Dee and your beloved plasma car you got for your birthday. You’ve mastered it, and like pushing it with your feet more than how it was designed to work, and you’ve gotten fantastic at what you and your dad call the “power slide.” Your dad now makes you wear your helmet, which was this crazy ugly plastic and Styrofoam thing, until your dad spray painted it black and stenciled your name on it.

You also like to pretend to have fallen off your plasma car. Your father is very obviously concerned bout your well being.

We had a big snowstorm this month, and you really liked “helping” shovel, and so your dad bought you your very own little shovel, but here you are with a big one when you and I went out together.

One of my favorite things about you getting older is your ability to express yourself so that I get to learn more and more about who you are and how you feel. Your emotions are out there for everyone to see, right on the surface, ready to boil over, regardless of whether it’s tears or laughter.

My very favorite part of the day is when you come home from school in your father’s arms, and he sets you down on the kitchen floor, where I’m waiting, kneeling down with my arms outstretched, and you run into them with a huge smile and collapse into me with the weight of your entire body and a huge smile on your face, and I cover you with as many kisses as you’ll let me give you. I had no idea how much that moment meant to you as well until one day when I was on the telephone when you came home, and we missed our reuniting hug and then you wouldn’t speak to me or look at me for far too long. I promise to never miss another hug the instant you walk into the house after a long day of being away from me. You need it as much as I do.
I love you.

Love,
Mama

In my house we do not talk about poop. This is always the way it’s been, I have never found it interesting or necessary or funny to talk about. My brother and sister, on the other hand- hysterical with laughter about toilet humor, even now in their mid-twenties.

It is not discussed between Clive and I, basically ever. Even though in the BVI he was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, and poop NEEDED to be talked about. We also lived in a bachelor apartment and so it’s not like it could be totally avoided because, well, ya know. When I got pregnant I said to him one day, “you know, when he’s born we’re going to have to talk about poop.” “No we’re not.” “Um, yes we are.” The birth of Ash has forced us to talk about poop, but it’s always a very matter-of-fact kind of conversation, no laughing, no jokes, just “did he poop?” “yes.” “okay.” It’s just something that happens, there’s nothing else to it.

And I’d like to keep it that way. I do not like to think about my significant other on the toilet. Actually, my ex used to pee sitting down and it grossed me out so much that it was one of the main reasons I couldn’t see myself with him for the rest of my life. No, I just do not need to think about you in that context. Never would I ever want to purposely look at your poop, unlike some couples do (WHY GODDAMMIT, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?) or poop with the door open, no thanks.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when at 27.5 months old, Ash says his very first poop joke.

Conversation goes:

From the back seat. “Milk.”
“What?”
“Milk.”
“What kind of milk? Cows milk, soy milk, rice milk?”
“Boobie milk!”
“No, no boobie milk [I don't nurse during the day], how about some rice milk?”
“No thank you. Boobie milk!”
“How about elephant milk? Butterfly milk? Octopus milk? Fire breathing dragon milk?”
“hahahhaa noooooo!”
“Kitten milk? Cheswick [his bear] milk? Puppy Mathias [his stuffed dog] milk?”
“Nooo! How about POOPY MILK???! Yuck, gross! eckkkk, ewww! pth pthhhh yucky!!!”

I guess it’s inevitable, raising a kid – especially a boy!

Really, really tired.

He wakes up every 1.5-2 hours every night for MILK MAMA MILLLLLLLLK, cuddle,cuddle, millllllk! Please? Littlebit? Littlebit? WHAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Once upon a time we’d hardly wake up, but now that he’s so verbal, I get a lot of whining about milk, literally crying about wanting milk, even if there’s not a wait for it. He won’t take no for an answer, at least not easily. I tell him that the milkies need a break, I tell him that when the sun is up he can have milk, I tell him a flat out no, I tell him he can have more later. He just keeps waking up and wanting it, and frankly, no matter how much I am tired of these mini night nursing sessions, it’s far easier to just give him milk than to fight it.

He never asks during the day to have milk, unless he’s really hurt or really tired. He just gets it before naps and bedtime. It’s an easy fix, and I love the power that nursing has. The biggest thing is that he’s making the rules- I figure I’ll go along for the ride until he’s done. My goal was two years, and now that I’ve made that I feel good about whatever is next.

But this nighttime thing is killing me.

For a while putting him on his little mattress beside our king mattress solved it, because he wasn’t waking up as often, but now his big thing is that he just wants to be the Little Spoon, and constantly asks me to cuddle. He’s also in this grabby stage where he just wants to rub my boobs, which I hateHATE, and do not allow, but he sometimes gets to do it in the middle of my deep sleep until I’m snapped out of it.

He’s old enough to understand what no is. I just can’t bear to hear his heartbreaking cries when I tell him that I don’t want to nurse at that moment. My milk is decreasing in supply, the vein in my chest that appeared hours after Ash was born is no longer bulging. I’m not a 36DD anymore, but rather just a 32 or 34D, and there’s no engorgement like there used to be.

It’s still cold and flu season which makes me want to keep nursing basically as much as he wants, but I have no idea how much nutrition he’s actually getting.

I don’t want to stop nursing altogether, I just want to get a full night’s sleep.

Does anyone have any tips who has been there? Just look at how happy my boobs make him! (Here he is coping a feel.)