Consider this your warning. I will likely be telling you this during my hospital stay when I have baby #2.
This baby has 36 hours to figure out how to latch and nurse properly. If she doesn’t get it, I’m going to pump. I’m sure you will have an opinion on this. I’m sure you will try to use it to influence me. I simply do not care what it is.
Last time around, the nurses gave my daughter a few ounces of formula while I napped. I didn’t need your snippy little comment about that later. If you had a problem with it, you should have said something to the nurse who gave it to her, not me. I was not even conscious when it happened. The baby was turning yellow and was obviously hungry. So she ate. I, her mother, was not bothered by it. So I don’t know why you should be.
All parties also became extremely frustrated in our previous experience as well, including the baby, my husband, the hospital staff and me. I reached a point where I was dreading my child waking up because I didn’t want to deal with it. Motherhood should not feel that way. Enjoying your child is imperative. When I finally decided to pump exclusively, I felt as though a gigantic weight had left my shoulders. I relaxed and had fun with my baby.
I'm not the picture of dietary health. If my child has to supplement with formula, it might actually be better than passing along all the processed foods that I consume. After having major surgery, I don't foresee having the ability or even the desire to go out and shop and cook fresh foods. I can barely do that now with a toddler. It's baby formula, with iron, vitamins and nutrients. It's not like I'm slapping a nipple on a bottle of Clorox.
I don’t want to hear that it’s “double duty” or “a lot of work.” It’s not. With my pump, I can produce twice as much milk in 20 minutes than she would likely take in a 45 minute nursing session. My husband can give her a bottle while I rest and recover. I can store the excess milk for a later time, which will keep her fed longer. I know exactly how much she has eaten, if it’s too much or too little. My first child also slept through the night by 11 weeks. Many breastfed children have trouble sleeping because the parents are unable to monitor and control how full the baby’s stomachs are. I never had that problem and was able to sleep well throughout the night as well.
And I never had to whip out my boob in public. Sure, carrying milk around can be a pain in the ass. But with two kids under the age of two, I don’t think I’m going to be going too many places anyway.
You may be an expert on nursing but I am the expert of my family. I managed to make this work last time and I’m willing to try again. Ultimately, I am the one who is going to have to live with the decision. My child and I will later be forgotten and inconsequential to you. I know it’s your job but this is my life.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Finding My Niche
Over the weekend, I attended a writers’ conference. One of the seminars centered upon building a brand and finding your niche. It was a great presentation but it left me feeling a little lost.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic. The mom that’s different or alternative.
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
Monday, April 5, 2010
An Open Letter To The Church Ladies
Dear Church Ladies:
Today I attended services at The Church of the Good Shepherd UCC in Alburtis, PA. I don’t consider myself to be a particularly religious person. I grew up Catholic and hold a lot of bitter sentiments toward the church's ideology. My husband is a member of your church and would like to raise our children to believe in God and Jesus Christ. I’m not opposed to the idea. I think that churches can teach positive values. Since your sect seems fairly open minded in regards to women and homosexuals, I feel most comfortable with your beliefs.
I’m not all that thrilled with your congregation, however. As an outsider and self proclaimed “Chreastian” (someone who tends to only attend services for Christmas and Easter), I just don’t feel very welcome in your church. One of the first women that spoke to me started asking questions about my daughter. They were not your typical, “What’s her name? How old is she?” kind of questions. I believe the exact question was, “You don’t bring her here much, do you?” My response was that we were just coming out of a long winter where she did not have a flu shot. I also told her that I am pregnant and also did not get a flu shot. I don’t think I’ve even gone to a grocery store since October. The flu in our house this winter would have been disastrous, possibly even dangerous. She didn’t say much else but when it came time for the neighborly “peace of Christ be with you” handshake part of the service her eyes immediately dropped to my bulging tummy and my ring finger. Isn’t it good manners to make eye contact when shaking someone’s hand?
The minister was fairly friendly today, although on other occasions he has passed along a guilt trip for not showing up. I know it’s his job to make sure people attend services. I won’t keep showing up if you’re going to be an ass to me. But I won’t dwell on past incidents since today you were cool. You didn’t even beg for money during your sermon, which from what I hear is commonplace. I don’t know if your wife was in attendance today or not. It seems that other times I have been there she was missing. I will forgive this, though, as I’m sure she’s very busy keeping that glass house of yours clean.
I do have to call the minister’s leadership into question as it appears that he lets a lot of you Church Ladies, especially those of you involved with the various choirs, run the show. I chose to attend Christmas services at a different church this year because your choir chose to have its cantata on Christmas Eve rather than a traditional service. To me, this gives the impression of wanting to show off to the people who don’t attend services as much, capturing a bigger audience. The problem with this is that I have a toddler and another baby on the way. Stretching what could be a 45-minute service out to an hour and a half is taxing on her and taxing me, especially my balance and bladder. I had to hold both the baby and my pee for a very long time this morning. I also got a little dizzy. And I was patiently waiting for my daughter to throw a fit or blow out the diaper under her pristine white bloomers. But we got lucky today. Since I only attend services twice a year, I have no reason to believe that this is not typical. I can’t make it through the hour and a half every week. I just can’t. As I mentioned before, I grew up Catholic. We had services on Saturday nights so that we wouldn’t have to get up early on Sundays. Those services also only lasted 25 minutes or so. I’m conditioned for a sprint, not a marathon.
Perhaps if I got the warm fuzzy feeling at your church, I would visit more often. Perhaps if we could compromise on how long and involved the service is, I’d feel more comfortable and even enjoy what’s going on. But this just feels like an awkward chore, or like high school gym class all over again. Everyone is checking me out and it’s too long and physically laborious. I guess I’ll just see you all again at Christmas, unless you decide to do the Cantata again.
Love,
A Chreastian
Today I attended services at The Church of the Good Shepherd UCC in Alburtis, PA. I don’t consider myself to be a particularly religious person. I grew up Catholic and hold a lot of bitter sentiments toward the church's ideology. My husband is a member of your church and would like to raise our children to believe in God and Jesus Christ. I’m not opposed to the idea. I think that churches can teach positive values. Since your sect seems fairly open minded in regards to women and homosexuals, I feel most comfortable with your beliefs.
I’m not all that thrilled with your congregation, however. As an outsider and self proclaimed “Chreastian” (someone who tends to only attend services for Christmas and Easter), I just don’t feel very welcome in your church. One of the first women that spoke to me started asking questions about my daughter. They were not your typical, “What’s her name? How old is she?” kind of questions. I believe the exact question was, “You don’t bring her here much, do you?” My response was that we were just coming out of a long winter where she did not have a flu shot. I also told her that I am pregnant and also did not get a flu shot. I don’t think I’ve even gone to a grocery store since October. The flu in our house this winter would have been disastrous, possibly even dangerous. She didn’t say much else but when it came time for the neighborly “peace of Christ be with you” handshake part of the service her eyes immediately dropped to my bulging tummy and my ring finger. Isn’t it good manners to make eye contact when shaking someone’s hand?
The minister was fairly friendly today, although on other occasions he has passed along a guilt trip for not showing up. I know it’s his job to make sure people attend services. I won’t keep showing up if you’re going to be an ass to me. But I won’t dwell on past incidents since today you were cool. You didn’t even beg for money during your sermon, which from what I hear is commonplace. I don’t know if your wife was in attendance today or not. It seems that other times I have been there she was missing. I will forgive this, though, as I’m sure she’s very busy keeping that glass house of yours clean.
I do have to call the minister’s leadership into question as it appears that he lets a lot of you Church Ladies, especially those of you involved with the various choirs, run the show. I chose to attend Christmas services at a different church this year because your choir chose to have its cantata on Christmas Eve rather than a traditional service. To me, this gives the impression of wanting to show off to the people who don’t attend services as much, capturing a bigger audience. The problem with this is that I have a toddler and another baby on the way. Stretching what could be a 45-minute service out to an hour and a half is taxing on her and taxing me, especially my balance and bladder. I had to hold both the baby and my pee for a very long time this morning. I also got a little dizzy. And I was patiently waiting for my daughter to throw a fit or blow out the diaper under her pristine white bloomers. But we got lucky today. Since I only attend services twice a year, I have no reason to believe that this is not typical. I can’t make it through the hour and a half every week. I just can’t. As I mentioned before, I grew up Catholic. We had services on Saturday nights so that we wouldn’t have to get up early on Sundays. Those services also only lasted 25 minutes or so. I’m conditioned for a sprint, not a marathon.
Perhaps if I got the warm fuzzy feeling at your church, I would visit more often. Perhaps if we could compromise on how long and involved the service is, I’d feel more comfortable and even enjoy what’s going on. But this just feels like an awkward chore, or like high school gym class all over again. Everyone is checking me out and it’s too long and physically laborious. I guess I’ll just see you all again at Christmas, unless you decide to do the Cantata again.
Love,
A Chreastian
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