Last week my mother-in-law and I went out to lunch before visiting a friend and her new baby in the hospital. Nothing fancy, just a local diner. Well, right on cue like always, baby girl decided, just as the waitress brought our food, that she was hungry too. I knew I had to perform the dreaded task of breastfeeding in public. It's not that I was ashamed or against it at all. I never had a problem with women breastfeeding in public. I mean, babies have to eat too, right? But I dreaded it for two reasons.
For one, breastfeeding under a cover in front of strangers is an art form. One which I did not think I was graceful enough to perform. You have to shuffle through the diaper bag to find your Udder Cover (no, I didn't make that up. It's actually called an Udder Cover!), strap it around your neck, make sure you are completely covered before you start unclipping your nursing top and bra, whip it out, and gracefully position your fussy baby on your boob with very little visual. And you have to do this within seconds because baby's volume can go from 0-100 before you can unfold your napkin and place it in your lap. Basically, you want to get it done before people start staring. It's like working the pit stop at Nascar, only partly blindfolded!
The other reason I was nervous about Breastfeeding in public was that, although I was completely comfortable with the concept, I was worried about the people around me. Would I get looks of disgust? Would the manager come out and ask me to leave because other patrons are "offended" by my child's need for sustenance?
Oh no, not this momma! In my brain, I was fully prepared to go head-to-head with any anti-PDN (Public Displays of Nutrition) jerks! My quick-witted one-liners were packed and ready for rapid fire! Here are just a few that sprung up in my mind:
-"Why, yes I am Breastfeeding my child. It's what mammals do to feed their young. Maybe one day, when you evolve and catch up, you'll understand."
-"well, I thought the way you inhaled that burger was quite disgusting as well, but I was kind enough to keep that to myself. Oh, by the way, you got a little something in your beard."
(That one could work for a man or a woman! BURN!)
-"I'm sorry. You are right. I'm being incredibly rude. I should have brought enough for everyone!"
(Then I'd squirt 'em in the eye... hehe)
After I hit him between the eyes with my best comeback, I'd pack the baby in the stroller, leave the bill unpaid and storm out letting everyone know that I was on my way to write horrible reviews on Yelp and Urban Spoon, all while whipping out not one, but TWO boobs and turn it into a dramatic Western style shoot out exit.
Ok, I'm letting my imagination get ahead of me there, but you get the picture... Right?
You'll be happy to know that my first PDN experience went very smoothly. There were no dirty looks and I didn't have to call the local news network. No one really even noticed! And I was able to eat with just my left hand (yeah, I was that good!). The only comments I got when I was done were about how beautiful my daughter was. [insert collective "awwwwe" here]
While I'm glad PDN is accepted, at least at that establishment, a little part of me wishes I could have used one of those lines on some ignorant fool. Mom Power!
Do you have any good comebacks that you've used or plan to use should you find yourself in this situation? Leave a comment to share them with other mommas!
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
Human Metronome
I just love this AT&T commercial. I bet every parent out there can watch this and totally see themselves in their shoes. Once you find something that lulls your baby to sleep, no matter where you are or what you're doing, you don't want to interrupt it for fear of what kind of state your little angel will be in if she were to suddenly wake up.
But what I find so funny about the commercial is how the mom is rocking in perfect sync with dad, even though he's the one holding the baby! I do that all the time and I don't even realize it! I'm a human metronome! I don't even have to be in the same room with my baby and I still find myself swaying back and forth as if I can telepathically rock her to sleep wherever she is.
In case you haven't seen it yet, here it is:
But what I find so funny about the commercial is how the mom is rocking in perfect sync with dad, even though he's the one holding the baby! I do that all the time and I don't even realize it! I'm a human metronome! I don't even have to be in the same room with my baby and I still find myself swaying back and forth as if I can telepathically rock her to sleep wherever she is.
In case you haven't seen it yet, here it is:
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Let Daddy Sleep
I know a lot of moms just read that title and said "whaaaaa?" Yeah, I know, men have it so easy right? They plant their seed and then... well, that's pretty much all they're required to do. But if you ask me, that's not an easy thing to do. Not the planting of the seed part (we can't exactly call that a 'chore' now, can we?), but the sitting back, feeling helpless part. I mean think about it. Let's say you are a big time advertising creative and you've just come up with the most amazing slogan for a brand new product. It's perfect. You spent months doing market research to finally arrive at your idea and the client loves it. Then you are told you are not allowed to be a part of the rest of the creative process. You can't choose the font or the color. You can't go to commercial shoots or oversee print production. You have to trust that someone else can take over from there and take good care of your brain child. Maybe I'm just a control freak, but that would drive me fucking crazy! Now, imagine that with your child!
I give my husband so much credit. He, and I'm sure a lot of other great daddies out there, wants to be a part of everything. In the beginning, he would wake up with me every hour and a half and offer whatever he could to help; a glass of water, a back rub, just sitting with me while I breast fed. But we soon realized that this was not only a bad idea, it was flat out dangerous!
First of all, the last thing I wanted at those crazy hours of the night was a back rub, especially from someone who is only half conscious. And while it was sweet that he wanted to keep me company, I really didn't need someone staring at me while I breast fed. I mean, let's face it, there wasn't exactly intelligent conversations happening at 2 am. It was more like:
Hubby: "Does that hurt?"
Me: "Yup."
Hubby: "Oh, that sucks. Sorry."
I love when other women tell me that their lovely husbands would do diaper changes at night and then hand off the baby so they can breastfeed from bed. That's very sweet and all, but it just couldn't work in my house. For one, that would really only give me like 3 extra minutes of sleep. And two, there's no way I can breastfeed in bed at night. Aside from being afraid of falling asleep and losing our child in a sea of blankets, we share our bed with a 40 lb dog who, although is very gentle with her new little sister during the day, doesn't seem to give a shit about where she steps at night as long as she finds a comfy spot between us.
When my husband was getting up with me in the middle of the night, we realized that the days were much more difficult. I think it's just innate for women to be able to handle the sleep deprivation that comes with motherhood. Men, not so much. It was both comical and scary how absent-minded my hubby was on just 2-3 hours of sleep. I would ask him to get me a burp cloth and he would wander into the kitchen, open the fridge and yell "What kind of yogurt did you want?" Don't get me wrong, I have my share of blank stares and forgetful moments too, but when we are both walking around like zombies, it's just a recipe for disaster. Our child was never actually in any danger, but it was seriously like we were both drunk all the time. Not like pass-out drunk, just a little tipsy.
So the moral of my story is let daddy sleep. I felt much more comfortable knowing that our child had at least one fully conscious and reliable parent. That way I could take naps while hubby was home and he can have special bonding time with the little peanut. And I don't have to worry about him basting our child and putting the turkey down for a nap!
I give my husband so much credit. He, and I'm sure a lot of other great daddies out there, wants to be a part of everything. In the beginning, he would wake up with me every hour and a half and offer whatever he could to help; a glass of water, a back rub, just sitting with me while I breast fed. But we soon realized that this was not only a bad idea, it was flat out dangerous!
First of all, the last thing I wanted at those crazy hours of the night was a back rub, especially from someone who is only half conscious. And while it was sweet that he wanted to keep me company, I really didn't need someone staring at me while I breast fed. I mean, let's face it, there wasn't exactly intelligent conversations happening at 2 am. It was more like:
Hubby: "Does that hurt?"
Me: "Yup."
Hubby: "Oh, that sucks. Sorry."
I love when other women tell me that their lovely husbands would do diaper changes at night and then hand off the baby so they can breastfeed from bed. That's very sweet and all, but it just couldn't work in my house. For one, that would really only give me like 3 extra minutes of sleep. And two, there's no way I can breastfeed in bed at night. Aside from being afraid of falling asleep and losing our child in a sea of blankets, we share our bed with a 40 lb dog who, although is very gentle with her new little sister during the day, doesn't seem to give a shit about where she steps at night as long as she finds a comfy spot between us.
When my husband was getting up with me in the middle of the night, we realized that the days were much more difficult. I think it's just innate for women to be able to handle the sleep deprivation that comes with motherhood. Men, not so much. It was both comical and scary how absent-minded my hubby was on just 2-3 hours of sleep. I would ask him to get me a burp cloth and he would wander into the kitchen, open the fridge and yell "What kind of yogurt did you want?" Don't get me wrong, I have my share of blank stares and forgetful moments too, but when we are both walking around like zombies, it's just a recipe for disaster. Our child was never actually in any danger, but it was seriously like we were both drunk all the time. Not like pass-out drunk, just a little tipsy.
So the moral of my story is let daddy sleep. I felt much more comfortable knowing that our child had at least one fully conscious and reliable parent. That way I could take naps while hubby was home and he can have special bonding time with the little peanut. And I don't have to worry about him basting our child and putting the turkey down for a nap!
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Boob Camp
Before our little bean was born, we wanted to arm ourselves with as much information as possible to avoid any major parenting fuck-ups. We bought books, asked other parents we know lots of questions (thanks, sis! You know you have always been my primary resource!), and even signed up for all the Expecting Parents classes offered at the hospital. Those classes were very helpful in easing some of the fears/concerns we had about childbirth and the days that follow. But the one class that I was really anxious to take, both because I was totally clueless on the subject and because I was too embarrassed to ask other women about, was the Breastfeeding class. Boob Camp, as I refer to it.
Boob Camp is a 3 hour crash course in all things booby. Gentlemen (if there are any of you reading this blog), it's not as cool as you might think. And yes, I did make my husband come with me. We had to sign up in advance to ensure a spot in the class. I imagine tickets to that concert get sold out pretty quickly! Looking at the class schedule online we saw that, wouldn't you know, the only class that we were able to attend fell on my birthday! Yup, that's what I always dreamed of doing on my 31st birthday, watching a movie featuring other women's boobs (lots of them!) with my husband. It was at that moment that I realized life as we knew it would never be the same.
Aside from the creepy animated baby on screen demonstrating the correct and incorrect way to latch, the class wasn't so bad. And there were actually quite a few men there with their wives (I'm still not sure if I should be surprised by that). Anyway, I learned a lot about my boobs that day. It turns out, they are even more powerful than I thought! I walked away feeling like yeah, I got this!
Then the baby was born and everything I learned in those classes managed to crawl into a crevasse so deep in my brain it was impossible to retrieve. I knew nothing all over again. I had to call in the big guns for reinforcement. I had to call the Lactation Specialist at the hospital, or as I like to refer to her the Boob Camp Counselor.
The doctors told us baby girl was losing a little more weight than normal in the first 24 hours and that it might be due to improper latching. Talk about a blow to my new-mom ego! I felt like I got a big red F on my New Mom exam and it hasn't even been a full 24 hours! I was determined to do whatever it took the fix the problem... So in walks the Camp Counselor. She didn't hesitate one bit. We barely introduced ourselves before she had her hands on my boobs! Once again, gentlemen, it's not what you think. There was nothing pretty, or even remotely sexy about what happened there.
I'm glad she was there to help, but looking back, I still can't believe I let her, a total stranger, get all up in my business like that! It just goes to show the lengths women will go to to take care of their babies.
It turned out that it was nothing that me or my baby was doing wrong. Her frenulum (the tiny piece of skin that attaches the tongue to the bottom of your mouth) was a bit too long and was making it difficult for her to fully stick out her tongue and get a good latch. We opted to have the doctor cut it (a very quick and painless procedure) and almost immediately after, we saw a huge improvement with her feeding.
In all seriousness though, Breastfeeding is truly an amazing thing. Even now, at 3:57 am, I can honestly say that I enjoy those moments with my daughter. I'm not just feeding her, I'm bonding with her in a way that no one else on this planet can. There is nothing more peaceful than to look down and see your little one gazing back at you or gently falling asleep in your arms... except those times when she flails her little arms uncontrollably and grabs a handful of nipple. That fucking hurts!
Boob Camp is a 3 hour crash course in all things booby. Gentlemen (if there are any of you reading this blog), it's not as cool as you might think. And yes, I did make my husband come with me. We had to sign up in advance to ensure a spot in the class. I imagine tickets to that concert get sold out pretty quickly! Looking at the class schedule online we saw that, wouldn't you know, the only class that we were able to attend fell on my birthday! Yup, that's what I always dreamed of doing on my 31st birthday, watching a movie featuring other women's boobs (lots of them!) with my husband. It was at that moment that I realized life as we knew it would never be the same.
Aside from the creepy animated baby on screen demonstrating the correct and incorrect way to latch, the class wasn't so bad. And there were actually quite a few men there with their wives (I'm still not sure if I should be surprised by that). Anyway, I learned a lot about my boobs that day. It turns out, they are even more powerful than I thought! I walked away feeling like yeah, I got this!
Then the baby was born and everything I learned in those classes managed to crawl into a crevasse so deep in my brain it was impossible to retrieve. I knew nothing all over again. I had to call in the big guns for reinforcement. I had to call the Lactation Specialist at the hospital, or as I like to refer to her the Boob Camp Counselor.
The doctors told us baby girl was losing a little more weight than normal in the first 24 hours and that it might be due to improper latching. Talk about a blow to my new-mom ego! I felt like I got a big red F on my New Mom exam and it hasn't even been a full 24 hours! I was determined to do whatever it took the fix the problem... So in walks the Camp Counselor. She didn't hesitate one bit. We barely introduced ourselves before she had her hands on my boobs! Once again, gentlemen, it's not what you think. There was nothing pretty, or even remotely sexy about what happened there.
I'm glad she was there to help, but looking back, I still can't believe I let her, a total stranger, get all up in my business like that! It just goes to show the lengths women will go to to take care of their babies.
It turned out that it was nothing that me or my baby was doing wrong. Her frenulum (the tiny piece of skin that attaches the tongue to the bottom of your mouth) was a bit too long and was making it difficult for her to fully stick out her tongue and get a good latch. We opted to have the doctor cut it (a very quick and painless procedure) and almost immediately after, we saw a huge improvement with her feeding.
In all seriousness though, Breastfeeding is truly an amazing thing. Even now, at 3:57 am, I can honestly say that I enjoy those moments with my daughter. I'm not just feeding her, I'm bonding with her in a way that no one else on this planet can. There is nothing more peaceful than to look down and see your little one gazing back at you or gently falling asleep in your arms... except those times when she flails her little arms uncontrollably and grabs a handful of nipple. That fucking hurts!
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Why Baby Farts?
Ok, so I probably should have started off with this post. Let me explain why I chose the name Baby Farts for my blog. Well, for one, is there anything cuter than a baby fart? I mean, come on! I giggle every single time our darling little 9 lb. 10 oz. daughter, with her dainty little features, scrunches her little chicken legs way up into her chest and just let's one rip. A loud one. You can hear her farts from the other room! But she doesn't care. It makes her feel good. She will even give a little smile when she's done. Precious.
But the real reason I chose that title comes from one tiny moment of our parenting experience so far. When our baby was about 2 weeks old, my husband and I found ourselves in a total "what the fuck?" moment. You know those moments... It's 3am and your baby has been crying for the past 96 hours straight (ok, maybe it was 2 hours, but at 3am everything seems like an eternity!). You've tried everything; diaper, feed, burp, rock, sing, swing, swaddle... Nothing works and you are just like "What the fuck? Why won't this child get tired already?" Yup, it was one of those nights. We were in her beautifully decorated nursery, me in the glider, screaming baby in my arms, and my husband on the ottoman facing me, feeling totally helpless. Both of us completely drained from sleep deprivation and on the verge of tears, feeling completely defeated and ready to admit that we were failures. Then, all of a sudden, baby girl lets out the loudest, longest fart you can imagine. And what do you know? She immediately calmed down right after! Just like that, one fart and all was right with the world again. My husband and I just looked at each other and laughed. For a long time. We weren't bad parents. Our baby didn't hate us. She was just gassy!
I hope other parents have moments like that. Not the screaming baby at 3am part (although it's inevitable. That will happen!), but the moments where you stop and laugh a little. And if you can't laugh at yourself as you grow into your parent hat, I hope that you can laugh at me and the stories I share on this blog. Remember to stop and enjoy the little things, like baby farts, because before too long, your baby will grow up and her farts will start to smell. And there's nothing cute about that!
But the real reason I chose that title comes from one tiny moment of our parenting experience so far. When our baby was about 2 weeks old, my husband and I found ourselves in a total "what the fuck?" moment. You know those moments... It's 3am and your baby has been crying for the past 96 hours straight (ok, maybe it was 2 hours, but at 3am everything seems like an eternity!). You've tried everything; diaper, feed, burp, rock, sing, swing, swaddle... Nothing works and you are just like "What the fuck? Why won't this child get tired already?" Yup, it was one of those nights. We were in her beautifully decorated nursery, me in the glider, screaming baby in my arms, and my husband on the ottoman facing me, feeling totally helpless. Both of us completely drained from sleep deprivation and on the verge of tears, feeling completely defeated and ready to admit that we were failures. Then, all of a sudden, baby girl lets out the loudest, longest fart you can imagine. And what do you know? She immediately calmed down right after! Just like that, one fart and all was right with the world again. My husband and I just looked at each other and laughed. For a long time. We weren't bad parents. Our baby didn't hate us. She was just gassy!
I hope other parents have moments like that. Not the screaming baby at 3am part (although it's inevitable. That will happen!), but the moments where you stop and laugh a little. And if you can't laugh at yourself as you grow into your parent hat, I hope that you can laugh at me and the stories I share on this blog. Remember to stop and enjoy the little things, like baby farts, because before too long, your baby will grow up and her farts will start to smell. And there's nothing cute about that!
Words of Wisdom... So They Say
As soon as the bump is even slightly visible, people can't help but offer advice and words of wisdom for the mom-to-be. I totally get it now. Having been a mom for all of 6 1/2 weeks now, I just love telling other people about what I've learned and figured out along the way. Like the time I thought our daughter had some kind of kidney disease because her pee had a very strong smell, only to find out (thanks to my brilliant husband) that it was just the smell of the color-changing strip in her diaper that also emits an odor when wet... Mystery solved. Paranoia subsided (at least for now). In telling that story, maybe I've saved one of my mom-to-be friends the headache and stress that I went through prior to solving that mystery. Or maybe they just think I'm crazy.
I'm sure moms out there have a million stories and tricks-of-the-trade that would really help a first-time mommy. So then why do they always give the same piece of advice? Why do they all stick to "Sleep when the baby sleeps!"? That gem of advice is total bullshit. Did all veteran moms get together and decide to keep their real tricks top secret and let the new moms figure it out on their own? I can hear them now, "Let that bitch figure it out for herself. I had to!"
It's not impossible to sleep when the baby sleeps. I've done it quite a few times. A 1-2 hour nap in the middle of the day can be glorious. But guess what. When you wake up, the laundry is still sitting in the washer, dishes are still in the sink, dinner has not yet been started, and you haven't even taken a shower. All of which still needs to get done no matter how tired you are. Only now you have to complete these tasks with one hand because you're holding a screaming baby in the other.
Fuck that. I'm going to break the silence and offer my two pieces of advice that I think will actually help a new mom.
#1 Don't read.
#2 Trust your instincts.
Let me explain, especially that first one. Being a teacher that one was even hard for me to type. What I mean is stop buying the parenting books and by all means stay away from online blogs (except this one of course). Don't ask Siri or a search engine how to raise your child or to diagnose a problem. It will only open a Pandora's box of other things to worry about, like the stinky pee story I told you about earlier. Instead, go to the people you trust. I mean actual people. People that you know, like your family and friends. Not Dr. Oz or Oprah. The people that know you well will know how to respond to your crazy, irrational new-mom concerns. They may even have some answers for you.
As for that second piece of advice, it's true you really do have motherly instincts. It wasn't until I started listening to those instincts that I started really feeling comfortable as a mother and things started to get a little easier. We've gotten so used to turning to the Internet for answers that we've forgotten that we actually already have some of them. It may take some trial and error, but go with what you feel in your gut is right for your child.
I'm still learning everyday. I get excited when things go really well and frustrated when the shit hits the fan. But I've come to realize that that is what parenthood is all about. It's a crazy roller coaster. Enjoy the ride!
I'm sure moms out there have a million stories and tricks-of-the-trade that would really help a first-time mommy. So then why do they always give the same piece of advice? Why do they all stick to "Sleep when the baby sleeps!"? That gem of advice is total bullshit. Did all veteran moms get together and decide to keep their real tricks top secret and let the new moms figure it out on their own? I can hear them now, "Let that bitch figure it out for herself. I had to!"
It's not impossible to sleep when the baby sleeps. I've done it quite a few times. A 1-2 hour nap in the middle of the day can be glorious. But guess what. When you wake up, the laundry is still sitting in the washer, dishes are still in the sink, dinner has not yet been started, and you haven't even taken a shower. All of which still needs to get done no matter how tired you are. Only now you have to complete these tasks with one hand because you're holding a screaming baby in the other.
Fuck that. I'm going to break the silence and offer my two pieces of advice that I think will actually help a new mom.
#1 Don't read.
#2 Trust your instincts.
Let me explain, especially that first one. Being a teacher that one was even hard for me to type. What I mean is stop buying the parenting books and by all means stay away from online blogs (except this one of course). Don't ask Siri or a search engine how to raise your child or to diagnose a problem. It will only open a Pandora's box of other things to worry about, like the stinky pee story I told you about earlier. Instead, go to the people you trust. I mean actual people. People that you know, like your family and friends. Not Dr. Oz or Oprah. The people that know you well will know how to respond to your crazy, irrational new-mom concerns. They may even have some answers for you.
As for that second piece of advice, it's true you really do have motherly instincts. It wasn't until I started listening to those instincts that I started really feeling comfortable as a mother and things started to get a little easier. We've gotten so used to turning to the Internet for answers that we've forgotten that we actually already have some of them. It may take some trial and error, but go with what you feel in your gut is right for your child.
I'm still learning everyday. I get excited when things go really well and frustrated when the shit hits the fan. But I've come to realize that that is what parenthood is all about. It's a crazy roller coaster. Enjoy the ride!
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