While feeding Loretta

Don't read if you don't like talking about breastfeeding. There. There's my disclaimer.

Ok, here's the deal: I don't like breastfeeding. Actually, I lean towards dislike. At first I felt guilty for thinking that, so I never said it out loud. But then I realized I don't really have to like it. I am not a bad mom for it being one of my less loved roles, nor does it make one a good mom just because she loves it. I wanted to love it, I just don't. 

With William, I attempted to nurse him but we had a few forces against us and after 3 weeks of emotional and mental trauma over milk that never came, his wise pediatrician gave.me the most comforting advice and I gave it up. I always wished I had been able to, but giving it up was the best choice I could have made at that point. I was focusing so much on his caloric intake, and my inability to provide it, that I was missing out on bonding with my new baby.

With Charles, it worked! I was so over the moon with excitement that it took me a couple of months to realize I actually didn't like it. Sure, I liked providing everything he needed. I liked not paying $30/week for his food. I liked not washing 6 bottles every day. But I didn't like the act of feeding him. I planned to stop around 6 months, but before I had the opportunity to make that conscious decision it was made for me: I got pregnant and my body quit making milk. Can't explain it. Doesn't always happen that way, but it did for me. Again, I spent 3 weeks constantly trying everything I could to get it back - but it was gone. Then, at the advice of a loving friend, I gave up. And again, at that moment, there was no wiser choice. It felt like such a loss of control and failure to not make a conscious decision on when to stop, but like all decisions in life - it wasn't really mine to make.

Then there was Loretta. Just like with Charles, it worked! And while I was happy it worked for all of the reasons I already knew, I also already knew I wasn't a big fan. I don't like nursing in front of anyone. If I had it my way I wouldn't even do it in front of anyone. I'm not attempting to not-offend others, and I'm not so self loving that I think anyone actually cares, but I do. I just don't like it. I don't like having to think about where we are going at what times and mapping out a nursing path. I don't like covering up, and I don't like being uncovered. And pumping. Enough said there, right? Point is - There are a lot of things I just don't like about it.

So yesterday, while I was nursing Loretta, I caught myself in a perplexing mind trap: I wanted her to grow up a bit so we were past the breast milk/formula stage, and yet I wanted her tiny fingers to never grow at all. I wanted her precious little nose to stay just how it is. I didn't want her to stop fitting on one arm. I didn't want her to grow up to walk and run and go to kindergarten. I just wanted her to freeze and be my newborn baby forever.

So even though at times I'm tired of nursing her, or wish I wasn't, or counting down the days until I won't - I need to remind myself that one day I'll wish I was. I'll wish I was the only one who got her 3am giggles. I'll wish I was the only one who could (almost) always soothe her. It's a trap, this parenthood thing. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. I enjoy every stage and watching them grow, but I don't want them to ever grow at all. It is possible this is the last of our Wallis babies, so I cherish each moment just a little bit longer. 

I don't like breastfeeding. But I'm still very thankful that I can, and do. I have guilted myself too much over the fact that I didn't LOVE pregnancy (what, with the emotions, cramps, lack of good sleep, and endless heartburn) and I don't LOVE breastfeeding. Look at that mom over there, she does. Aren't we supposed to? But then I realized - I love my babies. That's what I'm 'supposed' to do.

It's a BIG Day!

Today is a BIG day. A big day for so many reasons!

My junior year of high school on August 24 I remember rushing out of band practice as fast as I could. I didn't chat with everyone for the extra five minutes because I needed to go home. I had a phone call to make.

There was this boy just down the road who was turning 18, and I needed to call and tell him happy birthday. It didn't matter that we hadn't talked in over a year, or that he probably had a girlfriend, or that he may not even remember my name. I needed to wish him a happy birthday. Because that's what I did. I always thought of him on August 24, or when our football teams played against each other, or when I drove past his neighborhood. And because in those days we had to dial phone numbers by hand, I still know the number i called. I had to call and tell Austin happy birthday.

Today my wonderful husband turns 33. Gasp! So old :) Today we celebrate the fourth birthday in a row together, which I'm so thankful for! Today we get to celebrate the leader of our family and our house, and my favorite person in this whole world.

But, that's not the only reason it's a big day. Today the second biggest boy in our house starts KINDERGARTEN. I'm actually writing this post in advance because I'm not sure I'll be able to write about starting kindergarten on the ACTUAL day he starts kindergarten, but by the time you read this he will, in fact, already have started. He'll be in the works. He'll be an elementary schooler. How did that happen? Wasn't it just a few short months ago when we brought him home from the hospital? When he took his first steps? I know - i know it sounds cliche, but really - that's how it feels! I can close my eyes and see him standing in his bathtub fully clothed, washing his "buddies". Or sometimes when I am holding Charles as he sleeps on my shoulder, if I close my eyes I trick myself and think that's baby William drooling on my neck. How is he in kindergarten?

He's been in preschool and day care since he was 3 months old, so naively I used to think him going to kindergarten wouldn't be that big of a deal for me. But then I walked in the GiGANTIC school for meet the teacher night, where I will just drop him off and let him enter in like leading him into a pack of wolves. I saw the cafeteria the size of Texas. I saw the 5th graders walking around like they owned the place. My baby isn't ready for that! My baby still needs the miniature potties with 2 toilets and no door because supervision is required. My baby still needs to be playing on the playground all day. My baby isn't big enough!

And boy do I worry. What if he doesn't make friends? What if he gets bored because he's too smart? What if he gets in trouble because he's bored? What if he gets made fun of for being so smart? Or - gasp - What if he makes fun of other kids? What if he isn't polite to his teacher? What if he bullies kids on the playground? What if he gets bullied? What then? The teacher told me that for math they'll start with identifying the numbers 1-5. William did that when he was 2. She said, "sometimes kids already know that, so I'll push them to go to 10 or maybe even 20". William did that when he was 3. William does addition and subtraction. He's too smart. I don't say this as if I'm bragging because my kid is better than others - he's not better. He may be smarter, but that doesn't mean better and it certainly doesn't mean easier. But what if he gets lost in all of this? While his friends are learning number 10 what if he stares blankly at the wall and is stunted? These are the things that keep me up at night.

But, despite that, today is a big day for our big boy. I know he will be ok. If my above worries come to fruition we will navigate them as needed. If he's too smart and needs extra work, we'll do that. If he needs to be placed in another class, or homeschooled, or if he's just fine right where he is - we will navigate it as it comes. After meet-the-teacher night he told me he started to get a little bit scared, and I reminded him what the Bible says in Joshua: the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. I was speaking to myself more than him I think, but it's true. God already has it mapped out for us. He knows what challenges we will face, what successes we will see, and He knows what we need. So I just need to take a sip of coffee and breathe. He's got it.

As if the birthday of my love and the first day of kindergarten for the boy who made me a mom aren't enough to make a day big, it's also a big day because it is finally...FINALLY...the start of our new "normal". Over the last 3 months we have had an emergency c section, extended stay in the hospital, packed up our home and said goodbye to some of the most influential people in our lives, lived in my mom's house for a month, bought a new house, lived amongst boxes and have slowly started to make this new place our home. Our new normal is different, but I am so happy to finally have something that resembles a normal life. A routine. A schedule. Today is the first day I will work from home for my expected length of time, attempt to reach my goals of working out, blogging, taking care of the house, and picking kids up earlier so we don't have such a rushed life like we have in the past. Today is the day we get to start this new schedule which came by such a blessing from God. God calls some moms to work, some to stay home to work with the kids, and He has called me to do a little of both right now. Today is the day that really gets to start.

Whew. A birthday, kindergarten, and a bold call from God. I think I need a nap!