Extended Nursing

I was Skype-ing with my dad the other day so he could see the baby, and I mentioned that my little one has become quite the distracted nurser- she wants to play or sing or wiggle while she is nursing, making it much more difficult to focus on nursing. My dad suggested that meant it would be a great time to wean her.

What?

OK, so let me just put this out there. I love nursing my baby. Love it. It's had it's highs and lows, and sometimes it's awful when she wants to nurse when I'm doing important things like peeing (since she follows me into the bathroom now), but it's been awesome.

Nonetheless, nursing has been great and I feel privileged to be able to do it. And my baby loves it too, even though she is distracted. She still nurses, it's just that now, instead of taking ten minutes to nurse and be done, we nurse in about thirty second intervals, over the course of about 45 minutes, with frequent breaks for crawling, wiggling, or just smiling up at me. The books say that it's a phase...

Suffice to say, we're not weaning anytime soon.

But... When to wean? I have talked with many people about weaning, the right time, and how to go about it. An I've realized that there is no "right" time except when one or both of us is ready. I have talked with people who weaned at 3 months, 9 months, 12, 18 months, up to 3-4 years in age.   I have read the opinions of the AAP and WHO, who recommend 12-24 months, and continued nursing as long as is mutually desirable, thanks to the continued health benefits- both physically and mentally.  When babies are left to wean on their own, they will generally do so between 2.5 and 7 years.  While I can't imagine the idea of nursing a first grader, nursing a toddler is definitely doable.  So... I imagine it will be somewhere between the two :).

Also, this picture is awesome.

Why this job will make me crazy

I ran a call a while back on a teenager. Seemed fairly straightforward, didn't think much of it, except there was one abnormality, so I asked for a follow up.

I got my follow-up today. Kid has cancer, pretty much everywhere. Prognosis is poor.  The kid's gonna die.  That sucks. 


These are the sorts of things that I just sort of tuck away and pretend don't exist. I remember the fearful look in the mother's eyes, and hope, pray, and beg that I never face that fear. I do that "bottling it up" thing that they tell us not to.  Because if I think about all of the bad things that could happen to my little one, I get really sad. 

So I don't.  It's a choice.  I stay focused on the amazing things that my baby girl is doing.  I smile at her and tell her every day that I love her.  I cuddle her constantly.  I make an effort to make each day count, to be happy (as opposed to grumpy)  for her (and because of her!), and to do fun things with her, in case one day all one of us has left is memories...

I'm rambling. 

The point of this post is that it's easy for me to go on about my job pretending like all I ever do is take care of the toe pains and drunks, but occasionally I do see some medically interesting things that suck for patients and families.  And the things that suck are the things that I like to pretend won't happen to me, my family, or anyone close to me.  And when my job bursts my happy little bubble of ignorance, and I have to deal with the sucky parts of life, it really bums me out, and will, eventually, make me go crazy. 

So invest in Xanax now, 'cause one day, I'll probably need it. That or maybe large quantities of cupcakes...

Also check out this TED Talk:  http://blog.ted.com/2011/04/22/3-things-i-learned-while-my-plane-crashed-ric-elias-on-ted-com/ .  It's topical.

That annoying laugh

You know when you're out in public and you hear someone with just an awful laugh? One that's really annoying?

I have just realized that I am that person.

As an adult, I haven't found myself laughing on camera much, so I only know what my laugh sounds like inside my head.

Which is apparently much different from what it sounds like outside of my head.

So I have little video snippets of the baby, who now makes me laugh when she smiles, which means my laugh is on the video. I noticed it a couple of weeks ago, but was desperately hoping it was just a fluke.

Nope.

I have a less than cool laugh. It sounds like Goofy (from mickey mouse) struggling to breathe and laugh at the same time, with an occasional snort.

Why could I not remain blissfully ignorant of my annoying laugh? Is it there all the time? I mean, I don't snort all the time, so maybe it's not that bad?

Oh well. Only one thing to do about it. Laugh out loud so everyone can laugh at me AND with me... And I will pretend like I don't know about it :).

I'm not ready for this!

My husband and I were having some cuddle time while sitting on the floor watching the baby crawl all over her toys.  We were talking about how great a little crawler she's become, and in a fairly rapid manner.  She started really getting her belly up off the floor while she was staying with my parents (end of february), and over the course of about two weeks has become quite proficient at crawling.  As we are discussing this, she apparently noticed the lights on the TV box on the entertainment center, and made a bee-line for it.  The TV box is up about 2 feet off the ground on a shelf, and underneath it is a cabinet with glass-insert doors.  Instead of stopping when she got there, she situated herself sitting on her legs, leaned into the doors and put her little hands up as high as she could, and used the friction of her hands against the glass as a way to pull herself up.  As soon as I saw her starting into this motion I went over to her to prevent any catastrophic falls, but I didn't stop her, and lo and behold, she got to her feet and was able to reach the lights and buttons.

Lord help us.

The kid clearly didn't read the "childhood milestones" book that says that I am supposed to get another month to child proof my house before she really starts moving around on her own.

But what's worse (perhaps?) is the fact that it makes me realize how quickly the time goes (so cliche, I know).  Seven months have flown by, and I tried to do everything I could to just enjoy the time we have had together.  But I already miss her sleeping curled up on my chest (though I don't miss the fact that it was the ONLY place she would sleep), and I miss the tiny little diapers (that didn't stink nearly as bad).  I miss the wonder with which she stared at her hands, and that very first smile and coo (and now she won't stop talking!!)... Bittersweet must be a word that was coined specifically for parenting, because I've never felt anything so bittersweet in my life.

I'm pretty much gonna be a washed up wreck when she starts walking.

I'll be that parent who can't hold it together at the first day of preschool, or Kindergarten graduation, and every other milestone my child reaches.  Yup.  I'll be THAT mom.  Maybe I'll remember to keep kleenex with me...

Boogers.

So we are up in the mountains where it's delightfully cold, and what happens? Noses start running. Normally up there the air is dry enough that everything that would normally run out evaporates before it even thinks about coming out the nose, but not this time.

Not really a huge deal- we grabbed a box of kleenex from the hotel, tossed it in the car, and usually remembered to keep Kleenex in our pockets just in case.

Except once- the first day we dropped the boy off at ski lessons. The boy is 7, and generally does a good job of wiping his nose when asked, but as the namesake for "snot-nosed kids," the boy is notoriously bad about wiping his nose on his own, and if he does, it's almost always with his sleeve.

So we are just about to leave the boy at his lesson when he turns around to say goodbyes and sniffles his nose, as he has been doing. Just as I start to lean in for a little peck on the cheek with good luck wishes, I notice the giant green booger hanging out of his nose. As I turn to his dad to ask if he has a tissue, it gets worse. That's when the snot bubble appears. The ugly, nasty green snot bubble that grows in and out with each breath the kid takes.

My husband and I just look at each other- me with the, "your kid, your booger" look, and him with the, "ewwww! Snot bubble!" look, and both of us come to the realization that we can't just leave him that way. And, to top it off, neither of us has a Kleenex. The kid looks like a miniature marshmallow man in his puffed up, shiny slick snow gear, so his sleeve isn't exactly an option...

After a brief stare down, I realize that my own time to ski is being wasted on this nasty booger bubble, not to mention the poor kid standing there looking defeated and slightly embarrassed by this thing, and I do the grossest thing I can possibly think of and wipe the darn thing off with my bare fingers. I wiped it off in the snow before my brain had time to process the fact that the child's boogers were on my bare fingers. Then I threw up in my mouth a little and promptly informed my husband that he owes me big for that one.

I'm not sure I had ever seen quite the look on my husbands face. It was some combination of thankfulness, disgust, and shock and awe.

I'm shuddering just thinking about it. Moral of the story: keep Kleenex handy at all times...

What I didn't expect about being a new mom

As a first time mom, I prepped like crazy for the baby. I made sure the nursery was painted (not that I did much painting myself!), made sure it was stocked with every gadget that would make my life easier, and made sure it was color coordinated in shades of purple and lavender for my little love bug.

And we don't use it.

Well, not for it's intended purpose. We do change diapers in there because it's all set up for it, but other than that, I have a nursery full of boxes, and the boxes are full of clothes that don't fit in one way or another. The crib has been a great place to keep clean clothes, since I don't have time to put them away. And it's not like we are using the crib.

Makes me glad we used hand-me-down furniture in there.

I think I have managed to actually use most of the other gadgets. Yes, I use the wipe warmer. I hate dropping the drawers to pee at night, and would love a heated toilet seat. I can only assume that my daughter gets a bit of a chill when I expose her legs and booty to the air conditioned house after she has been bundled up in soft fleecy warmth.

What other stuff did I buy and not use? The baby bathtub. Bassinet with stand, sheets, and pad. Pack and play (there's still hope for that one though!). Baby nail clippers- they got used once. Nipped the poor kid's finger. Not sure who cried harder...

Also various bottles and nipples that she didn't like (never buy a 3-pack of bottles until you're sure the baby will like that brand), pacifiers she won't take, and cutesy dresses that she doesn't wear because she usually spits up or smears sweet potatoes on them anyway.

So- if there's a next time, I will be sure to spend my money on what's important- prenatal massages and college savings...

The Moment When...

The moment when you're walking out of the daycare center, with a screaming child in your arms who hasn't napped all day, refused to eat lunch, who is clawing at your face, pulling your hair, and making it generally difficult to carry ski boots back to the hotel room...

And then you look back at the other screaming child from the infant room, smacking his mother for trying to put his hat on him, and realize that someone else on this planet is experiencing the exact same thing...

... It makes you realize that you're not alone in your kiddo battles.  And that it's OK.