I spent years in customer service, 6 of those years in call centers alone. (No, I’m not one that called during dinner to ask you if you wanted to upgrade your cable.) Being in the “professional communication” business for so long, I’ve heard a lot; lots of funny things, silly things, smart things, and downright stupid things. Believe it or not, there is such a thing as a stupid question. However, nothing could have prepared me for some of the stupid crap people would start spouting at my offspring once he made his arrival. *insert facepalm here* Here are some of my (least) favorite. Did she pinch you? Yes. Because I enjoy torturing my child. (Hint: that's sarcasm.) Is she starving you?/Mama’s starving you to death! This was said – nay, repeated – at my most vulnerable. Bean was not even a month old yet, and we were still working on the whole breastfeeding thing. Even though he was weighing in well and gaining to his pediatrician's delight, I was still terrified that I wasn't doing it right. While I knew that the family member saying it was obviously joking, it still felt like a sucker punch to the gut every time either phrase left her mouth. It's something you don't ever say to a parent of a new baby. Just don't. Isyewagooboi I'm not native to this area. I'm still learning the local dialect. For example, where I'm from, to "wear someone out" means to make a person tired. Here, it means a good spanking. So if I told my mom I was taking my sisters to the park to wear them out, it would make sense to her, but if I told my neighbor the same thing, they'd be worried for my sisters. I believe "isyewagooboi" means "are you a good boy," but I'm not entirely sure. However, and I say this with no disrespect, I cannot talk to my child like that and expect him to learn to speak properly. So don’t be surprised if you use baby talk with my Bean and see me visibly cringe. Isn't your mama so mean? Again, yes, I just loooooove to make my child cry. This has been said to him multiple times when I’ve needed to lay Bean down for some reason, typically for a diaper change in a public restroom. I would think that being a mean mama would be to make him sit in his own filth for extended periods of time, not removing him from it. Of course he’s going to cry, he’d much rather be held. But the sooner you get out of his face telling him that I’m being mean to him, the sooner I can get him back in my arms. You’re too pretty to be a boy! Why does being a pretty baby negate his gender? Of course he’s gorgeous, he takes after his daddy! But being pretty isn’t simply a feminine quality, just as handsome is not a strictly masculine quality. I can understand this one a little better, though. I’m totally jealous of his eyelashes, too. As the non-confrontational passive aggressive person that I am, I generally smile and nod while avoiding eye contact, and then write about it. What are some of the craziest/silliest/weirdest things people have said to your infant/child? What was your response, and what do you wish you had said?
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Today marks 5 months of breastfeeding for me and Bean. I cannot believe how quickly the time has gone! As the saying goes, the days are so long and the years are so short. I mean, seriously, he was just born yesterday (right?), and it'll be Christmas in a few weeks. I'm sure I was told plenty about breastfeeding while I was pregnant. Honestly, I don't know how much went in one ear and out the other. Here are 5 things that nobody told me about breastfeeding (or maybe they did and I just don't remember): 5 Things Nobody Told Me About Breastfeeding1. Nobody told me that it would suck my brain dry. I mean it. I'd been in the professional communication field for almost a decade prior to Bean's birth. I had a great vocabulary and was a great articulator. Now I can't remember my name half the time. Or how old I am. I'll get stuck in the middle of a story and not be able to finish because my mind can't remember a simple word. Instead, I'll spend an hour trying to explain the word I'm looking for. 2. Nobody told me how soon nursling gymnastics (a.k.a. Gymnurstics) would start. About a month ago, Bean started rolling around in my arms into completely contorted positions while nursing. And heaven forbid I try to move him into what I think would be a more comfortable position. He MUST stay in his desired contortion until he's done. 3. Nobody told me how exhausting it would be. Especially when he is going through a growth spurt. He stays attached at the boob. All. Day. Long. And now we think he's teething, because he's been super fussy and clingy. I'm grateful that we co-sleep, because I can't imagine having to get up multiple times a night to get him out of a crib. Even still, he's gone from sleeping 4 hours through the night back to being up every 2 hours. I'm a sleepy mama. 4. Nobody told me how much it would annoy me. Not all the time, but sometimes. Sometimes, I just need to pee. Or eat. Or take a 5 minute shower instead of a 2 minute shower. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Mamas with babies (especially breastfed) should have a pass to wear Depends. 5. Nobody told me how much I would love it. This is all of the time. I'm constantly in awe of how my body continues to grow this amazing tiny human. He is alive and thriving because of me. It's incredible. I am excited for him to start exploring the world of solid foods, but I'm already dreading when this part of our relationship ends. When our eyes connect, I know that he loves me. When he smiles and makes happy noises when he's full, I know that he's saying, "Thank you, mama." When he falls asleep with his hand on my chest, I know that he feels comfortable and well taken care of. ********************* In celebration of reaching our 5 month mark, I am giving away a box of Lanisol Disposable Nursing Pads and a weighted nursing cover. The nursing pads were amazing and I used them constantly while we were in the hospital our first couple weeks home. I have since switched to washable, but I still keep some as back-up. Since this is not a sponsored giveaway, simply leave a comment on this post telling me your favorite, least favorite, or craziest thing about breastfeeding, or what you're most looking forward to about it. I'll be doing a good ole fashioned drawing Monday morning. Drawing will be closed Monday, 11.17.14, at 10am EDT. Good luck! One of the hardest meals for me to get to is breakfast. I was raised on big, hearty breakfasts, and the fact that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. With an infant, even a bowl of cereal can be challenging, especially now since he's trying to grab our utensils, so making a full-on breakfast is generally out of the question. Since that is the easiest meal for me to skip, I decided to hit up good ole Pinterest in hopes of solving my breakfasty dilemma. My search landed me with several oatmeal muffin recipes. Being gluten free, this was awesome for me, because gf rolled oats have become a staple in our home. I love rolled oats because they're a great source of fiber and good source of protein. They're a more complex carbohydrate, so, as long as you don't add too much sugar, there's no crash 20 minutes later. Yesterday, Bear had off for Veteran's Day. I decided to make one of the muffin recipes, since Bean had someone to give him his morning snuggles (: The first recipe to jump out at me was the Oatmeal Spice Muffins from Money Saving Mom. Oh. My. Remember the cinnamon and spice instant oatmeal we ate as kids? That's these muffins, but at a whole other level. Not only was I able to make these gluten free WITHOUT having to use any gluten free flour ($$$$), I was able to make them dairy free, too, by subbing with reduced sugar vanilla almond milk for regular milk, and coconut oil for the butter. I also added the chopped pecans. Don't skimp. Do the pecans. Trust me. Even though we were able to have a full egg and sausage breakfast, Bear and I ate over half the batch of muffins within an hour. Yeah, they were that good. The muffins themselves aren't very sweet at all, and the cinnamon sugar on top adds just enough sweetness to send you to your happy place. Because they're made with oat flour (I was able to grind my oats in the blender), they were dense but spongy. They were awesome with coffee, and I can't stop thinking about how amazing they would be with a chai latte. *drool* My plan, though, is to make as many muffins as I can at once during Bean's nap time, and throw them in the freezer so I can grab one or two to toss in the microwave, while still holding Bean. So the true test came this morning, when I nuked one of the few muffins left over. In a minute, it was as warm and steamy as it had been coming out of the oven. It was just as moist and delicious, and the texture was the same as yesterday! It was perfect!
For anyone who is allergic to cinnamon, you can sub with allspice! I'm also thinking of other variations that could be made to this recipe, like adding a handful of chopped raisins. What variations would you make? Any breakfast muffin recipes that you love? Please share! In one week from today, Bean will be 5 months old. 5. Months. Where does the time go?! My baby is no longer a squish. More and more often, I'm catching glimpses of the little boy that he is growing into. I beg him at least once a day to stay a baby just a little while longer... He is now rolling over for realsies. Like, all over the place. He's been able to roll over for a while now, but usually needed encouragement. Now he's a pro, and we can't keep him in one place if we lay him down. Seriously, he'll roll from one side of the living room to the other! Diaper changes are becoming quite a challenge now that he has discovered his new talent. In addition to rolling, he's also scooching around while on his back, although I'm not sure how he's doing it. It's always when I look away for a second. I'll lay him on a blanket or his play mat, with his head in the middle, and, a minute later, his head will be off the blanket/mat and on the floor. He's mastered pushing himself up while on his belly. When he was smaller, he hated tummy time. I felt like the meanest mommy putting him on his belly. It would last maybe 15 seconds, and the whole time I tried to convince him (and myself) that it was necessary and good for him. Turns out it actually wasn't, because we wear him, and babies that are worn don't need tummy time. But now I can't keep him off his tummy. Half the time we lay him on his back, he's on his tummy in seconds, doing the half-body push up. In yoga, it's called the cobra pose. Bean is getting better at grabbing and holding onto things, including his feet. He still likes to pat/smack me and Bear, but he's nicer to his toys. He's been able to grab the hanging toys on his play mat and pull them down to his mouth. He even managed to get a toe in his mouth yesterday! He's babbling away; and, since discovering his tongue, likes to do so with his tongue stuck out. Adorbs. His favorite sounds are: "dadada" and "lalalala" and "weoisakdfjoiwlekng". Yeah, I can't even hope to replicate some of the sounds he makes. I don't understand how he does it. But he is very vocal and loves to talk to us, his toys, and his reflection in the mirror. We haven't counted anything he's said as his first word, since he's not associating the sounds he makes with anything yet. I'm still holding out for that word to be "mama." :P “They” say a lot of things about breastfeeding. “Breast is best,” and “You won’t get your period as long as you breastfeed!” I’ll be honest, the one that made me the happiest was, “You’ll lose so much weight breastfeeding!”
See, I’ve had this thing since I was young. It’s not a very nice thing. But it’s a thing that has made me obsess about my body, specifically my weight. This is a thing that has sent me to the hospital. A thing that has turned me to skin and bones, and at other times a blimp. A thing that, after years of therapy, still creeps into the back of my mind and whispers terrible things in my ear. A thing that I’ll never conquer, and can barely control. A thing that made me hate myself and how I look. A thing that can make me cry or rage when I look in a mirror or see a picture of myself. This thing? Eating disorders. Anorexia and Bulimia and Body Dysmorphic Disorder, all wrapped up together in a Monster I seem to have caged most of the time, but manages to escape on occasion. My own mental bully that has grown up with me from age 10, when my thyroid (unbeknownst to myself or my doctors) stopped working like it was supposed to. I’ve been “overweight” most of my life, “obese” according to the BMI charts, which I try to tell myself is bull shit because my mom says I have an “athletic build” and I don’t look good at what they consider a “healthy weight.” Sheesh, that’s a lot of quotation marks. Last summer, I finally figured out everything that was wrong with me. I found an exercise routine that worked, ate healthy, cut out gluten, and finally got on the right thyroid medication. In just over a month, I dropped 25 lbs, and was only 25 lbs away from my goal weight. I would have kept going, but I found out that I was pregnant with Bean. Pregnancy has been the only time I have been truly happy with my body. I managed to continue eating healthy for the most part, and it didn’t bother me to gain the 35 or so lbs I did. I did not keep a vigorous exercise routine, but Bear and I took walks all the time. I loved watching my baby bump grow in the mirror. I was grateful that I didn’t seem to gain much anywhere else. I didn’t always feel great, but I felt great about my body. I would have walked around without a shirt on at all times, if it were socially acceptable. I did miss exercising like I used to, though. I was looking forward to Bean being born and getting back into it a few weeks later, as soon as I had the go-ahead from my midwife. I imagined hitting it hard with Jillian Michael’s while Bean watched from his swing or bouncer. I wanted to be at my previous goal weight by Christmas of this year, and I just knew between breastfeeding and exercising, I’d get there. So much for that. I’m currently 4 ½ months postpartum and I still can’t even walk for too long. And I’m not talking fast-paced, supercharged power walking. I’m talking about an evening stroll through town like Bear and I used to do while I was pregnant. It hurts too much to walk for long, much less even thinking about real exercise. I can’t even do yoga for more than a few minutes. I look in the mirror and all I can see is that c-section shelf, something that I will probably always have, a flab of skin to hang over the top of my mom jeans (jk, I’ll NEVER wear mom jeans…). And the numbers on the scale, they haven’t gone down since a week after Bean’s birth. The pain, the physical pain, is still excruciating some days. Some days, it’s all I can do to cart Bean around. Chunker. It’s also frustrating. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. It’s another thing that didn’t go according to plan. And the physical pain is a constant reminder, something that I carry with my constantly, making it feel like nothing went right. It translates into emotional pain, which is excruciating, too. So, on top of the postpartum anxiety and PTSD that I am working through, the Monster comes back. Taunts me. Makes me obsessed with the numbers on the scale. Makes me justify when Bean doesn’t want to be put down so that I don’t have to make something for myself to eat. Makes me angry when I look in the mirror. Makes me avoid having my picture taken (we still don’t have a real family picture). I know I can’t live like this. I can’t keep stepping on the scale multiple times a day. I can’t keep skipping meals. I cannot obsess about my now-matronly body. And I need your help. I’m sharing this to make myself accountable to you, my reader. I’m putting away the scale. I am making an effort to plan my meals and have healthy snacks available for myself. I will tell myself, out loud, affirmations any time I look in the mirror. I will do my best to live a healthy lifestyle without obsessing about my weight or shape. This is hard. This is very, very hard. But I know that I am not the only one out there who feels like this. If you feel the same in any way, I would like to invite you to join me. Let’s take this journey together, to learn to love our bodies, stretch marks and scars and all. Fall - my favorite time of the year! I love the colors, the smells, the apple cider, playing in the leaves, the pictures... :D I adore these two. I got to meet little Teagan and her sweet mama earlier this year, and it's amazed me how much she's grown in the short months that I've known her. Big brother Brolin is a super fun bundle of pure energy! I mean, just how cute are these two?! Mama sent me the following picture from last year and asked me if there was anything similar during our shoot. And, indeed, there was. I guess some things never change ;)
I got my start in professional photography working in a studio where I mostly photographed children. When I received my first DSLR, I started doing band photography, because that was what I was into at the time. When I got a little older, I started doing engagement photography, because I was surrounded by college student love. I eventually started doing wedding photography. Now that I've had a baby myself, I feel like I'm going back to my roots by going back to children/family photography. I've been blessed by the opportunity to work with 3 families in the past 2 weeks, including the Kiser boys. These two kept me on my toes! It was amazing! Love these boys! Thank you for bringing them out, Kristin!
So, this isn't a Pinterest recipe. Things have been a little crazy, so I've been slacking on trying new things. BUT! I still have an awesome recipe for you. This is a potnasty creation. You read that right: potnasty. Basically, that's when you throw a bunch of stuff in a pot a hope for the best. In this case, we got what we hoped for. The only thing with potnasty is there's no specific measurements, so you kinda have to eye it. For this, I wanted enough to last me and Bear a few days, so I threw 4 chicken breasts in the bottom of the crock pot with about 4 tbs of olive oil, just enough to keep it from sticking. I added some pepper, a good coat of paprika, a few dashes of chili powder, and a decent amount of cumin. I told you, potnasty. If I had to guess, 1/2 tsp pepper, 1 tbs paprika, 1/2 tbs chili powder, and 1 tbs cumin. I then added about half a box (2 cups) of chicken broth and set the crock pot to high. After about 4 hours, the chicken falls apart! So I shredded it with a couple forks. I diced up a large onion and a couple of bell peppers, minced several cloves of garlic, and threw all of that in the crock pot. I added about a cup of sliced mushrooms, 1 can of navy beans, 1 can of black beans, and a drained can of corn (I did not drain the beans). I topped it off with the remaining chicken broth. Popped the lid back on and waited. Which was hard, because it smelled AWESOME. And it was. Even more so the next day. In fact, we both almost ate it for breakfast.
I guess it could technically be called soup, because it wasn't very thick. However, you could easily add a few tablespoons of corn starch to thicken it when you add all of the veggies. Try it out and tell me what you think! Also, does your family have any potnasty recipes? Share them in the comments! Our Bean is 4 months old now! Where does the time go?! *ugly cries* He's growing and developing in so many ways, physically and mentally, that it's blowing my mind. He's grown another half inch in 2 weeks, and is officially double his birth weight! Hurray for mama milk! He had his 4 month appointment last week, and his pediatrician was thoroughly impressed at his head control and general awareness. She says he's growing beautifully! Bean has become even more aware of colors and designs, he loves to reach out at mine and Bear's tattoos, always with a look of extreme interest and concentration. He will point at and pat our tattoos for several minutes. He also loves the brightly colored mural at the pediatrician's office, and apparently loves my bright pink bathrobe. Haha! He's become increasingly independent in play, enjoying his doorway bouncer and activity mat. He even enjoys tummy time now! He is holding his head up SO well and loves to "talk" and laugh at mama and papa while on his tummy. Bean also loves sitting up, though he still needs a little support.
This guy is going to be Bear's adrenaline junkie buddy!! He loves being spun around and falling backward from a sitting position on the bed, and being "tossed" up in the air. He's also starting to get a better grasp on things, quite literally. He is more aware than ever of his hands, and loves to grab at his toys, try to hold a cup during bath time (which he LOVES), and even his feet! It makes me sad to see him getting so big so quickly, but I'm so proud of his accomplishments already, and can't wait to see what comes next. EDITED TO ADD: So yeah, I'm totally in denial. Bean has been watching us eat with great interest. Just last week, he reached for Bear's chicken chili. Not once, not twice, but three times. I am so not ready for this! Losing the baby weight. Baby wearing. Strollers. Baby food. Baby cereal. Exclusively breast-fed. Pumping a freezer full. Vaccinating. No-vax. Delayed/selective vax. Cloth diapering. Disposable diapers. Co-sleeping. Living crunchy. All-natural. Formula-fed. Home birth. Hospital birth. Natural. Unmedicated. Epidural. Scheduled cesarean section.
Did any of these make you cringe, just a little? If you're a mama, then you most likely answered yes. Maybe you cringed because it was something you're entirely against; but, if you're like me, you cringed because you feel guilty about doing/not doing one or more of the aforementioned things. Why? What makes us feel guilty? Sure, the media can be blamed some, with tabloids blaring how so-and-so has her pre-baby body back just weeks after birth. But I think it's much closer to home. In fact, it's in our homes. It's you, and it's me. Yes, us. We do this to ourselves and each other. Every time we judge another mom for doing something differently than we would, we're bringing her down. I once read a comment that said, "Motherhood is the nastiest competitive sport I've ever played." Ouch. Just because another mother chooses differently for herself and/or her child doesn't mean she's wrong. Maybe she's spent hours agonizing over the decision. Maybe she's shed tears over the overwhelming amount of information. Maybe she hasn't done any research at all; she may not even realize there's research she could do. Maybe she has complete trust in her caregivers and simply gone with their suggestions. Who knows, besides these women themselves? And unless they offer their reasoning unsolicited to us, it's none of our business. Does that mean if we see a need, we shouldn't offer to help? Absolutely not! But, I'm begging you, do it in a loving, gentle, kind way. Chewing out another mom for doing things differently only serves to take her down and destroy our solidarity as mothers. The worst, I think, is ourselves, though. We scroll through Instagram feeds and Pinterest boards and BCC chat rooms and Facebook groups, and see all the happy, all if the good stuff, all the moms that have "got this down." Nothing ever seems to go wrong in their perfectly organized and chevronned homes. The perfect hair and makeup selfies with their babies adds to the disillusionment. We begin to feel inadequate. Less-than. Simply not enough. Let me tell you... There are dishes in my sink. Dirty clothes piled up in front of the washer, and clean clothes in baskets and on top of (rather than in) the dresser. I cloth diaper, MOST of the time. I use disposable wipes. We chose to selectively delay vaccinations. We co-sleep. Bean has had less than 5 bottles in his 4 month existence earthside, and all of them were breast milk. I tried to pump a freezer stash in case of emergency, and I have MAYBE ten ounces, because I don't respond well to a pump, and Bean gets upset that something else is taking his milk, and it makes my boobs hurt. I use essential oils and prefer natural remedies, but I'll take Tylenol if I have to. We bath Bean nightly with organic castile soap. Bean and I do baby yoga sometimes, and other times we dance around to Rob Zombie. I deferred the circumcision decision to Bear, and he chose no circumcision for Bean. We planned a home birth, but ended up with a c-section. We plan to have a home birth with our next, should we be blessed with another child. Some things, like the dishes and laundry, are just a part of life. The other things are personal decisions. NONE OF THESE THINGS REQUIRE EXPLANATION OR JUSTIFICATION, TO MYSELF OR TO ANYONE ELSE. None of these make me better or worse than anyone else, just different. None of these things make me a bad mom, either; they just mean I'm human. We need each other, and that means we need to stop beating each other up. And we need to get past the rose-colored screens, and realize that the Facebook and Pinterest moms are just as human as we are, and stop beating ourselves up. Let's work on building up our community of moms. I guess what I'm driving at is this: You are not in this alone, you are doing the best that you can for yourself and your family, and you are more than enough. <3 |
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AuthorMama Bear of one Baby Bear, Bean, who both love Papa Bear, and live in a crafty, gluten-free cozy den. Archives
June 2017
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