03 June 2014

At Least There Are Ruffle Butts

This is my third post of the morning, my friends. I wanted to write, but I felt too complainy, so I penned these two happy little philosophical posts, one about supporting fellow moms and one about community.

But they felt really insincere. I'm totally not feeling them today. There's too much real life going on. Like, we had to put our cat down and this morning Abigail was calling her name and searching the apartment for her and I totally broke down in tears again. And I %&#$(@*$ hate breastfeeding for lots of reasons you don't blast on the Internet. I hated bottlefeeding Abigail and thought breastfeeding would solve all my woes. But it turns out breastfeeding has it's own set of issues. And I'm not giving up breastfeeding as I hate it less than I hate bottlefeeding, but I'm just venting because if I even think about my body when I'm breastfeeding the damn ducts plug up. I'm still not sleeping at night, showering is a joke, and I keep stress-eating this stupid banana split pie that I don't even like, but my grandmother thinks I do, so she keeps buying it for me. Too much real life, ya know?

But today was Eleanor's newborn photoshoot and the photographer is one of those friendly, outgoing, great-with-kids kinds of people who totally makes you feel at ease when your baby is sobbing hysterically and your toddler is throwing stuffed animals at the cat and you're having a hot flash and sweating profusely. There is something about seeing other people play with your kids and call them cute that endears them to you, ya know? And eventually Eleanor calmed down and she took about a thousand pictures and when she showed me a few, Eleanor totally looked like a happy, calm, inquisitive baby. And so we had some of those moments. Moments where I can forget that Eleanor's a world-class crier who thinks I'm a human pacifier. Or that Abigail ripped her pigtails out about two seconds after I put them in. Or that I was "this close" to calling my mom this morning and begging her to come visit me and bring me coffee and something chocolatey.

Sometimes it takes someone else's perspective to make you take a step back. And even if everything sucks, sometimes stepping back makes you realize that you were having an awesome hair day last Sunday

Or that she looks really cute in her first pair of flip-flop sandals.

Because even if they wake up four times a night to nurse (in between the nursing her to sleep at bedtime and nursing her when she gets up for the morning), they look so cute in pink diaper covers.

(Whipped that little number up last night when I realized I didn't have any newborn-sized diaper covers for today's shoot. It was the first time I broke out my crochet hook since her birth. I think it came out amazing).

We've been spending a lot of time in the trenches of young-child parenting lately, and sometimes I really need a reality check. Stop and admire the ruffle butts. And the pink stripes. And the high bun. The tears won't last forever and either will the ruffle butts.


Amelia Bentrup said...

I'm so sorry about youe cat.

You are really in the hardest place of parenting...I found two kids about that distance apart to be hard, bard, bard, hard. It really is hard. And, ruffle butts to make things much more bearable..as they are just darn cute.

And, great job on the diaper cover, I'm super impressed with it!

Liz said...

Leaky boobs, sour milk bras, plugged ducts. What's not to love about breastfeeding??? The ever present risk of constipation is my personal favorite! Have you mastered the killer look every breastfeeding mother gives her husband when he attempts to hand over the screaming baby with the suggestion that she's hungry??? It's hard to hold that one in.

Sacrifice. Sigh.

I'm sorry to hear about you kitty. Was he (she?) the one with all of the health problems?

Jacqueline said...

Yes, it was the fluffy, white, epileptic kitty : ( Abigail loved her with her whole toddler heart and it was a very depressing day. Poor things, both of them.

Anonymous said...

Water is not only the essence of wetness, it's the essence of life -your baby's and your own. So drink oodles of it! I cannot drink alcohol for st least six months after having a baby because breastfeeding dehydrates me so much. I've learned to drink an absurd amount if water every day.

Also, do you have a pump? I ask because of your persistent plugged duct woes. My body tends to overproduce, so I need to pump every day or so to keep the plugging away and so I can sleep at night without excruciating pain.

Lastly, I am sorry about your cat. My first and last real pet was a rooster, and after witnessing his demise (nothing out of the ordinary for a chicken, mind you) I never bonded with an animal again. But I can sympathize.

Here's to the pangs of post-childbirth! ;-) TB

Jacqueline said...

I do have a pump, but I don't think overproduction is my problem. I would pump the side with mastitis after Eleanor would eat and I was always surprised at how little I could get out. I think oversensitivity is my problem. I get plugged ducts from my bras and supporting the breast when she eats. I honestly had plugged ducts in the shape of my thumb! Ugh, it's been a struggle, but I think I'm nearing a solution.

Anonymous said...

God bless you, Jacqueline! I'm always in awe of women who duke it out and work through breastfeeding difficulties. My third had a latch problem that caused me serious pain, and a few weeks in I wanted so much to give up and give him a bottle. I know a mom up here who has three kids under the age of three, and #3 was born without his rear soft palate, so she pumps every two hours, day and night, to give him mamma's milk from a special bottle. Again, I'm in awe of her dedication and willingness to sacrifice to provide the best nourishment for her Little One. TB