We spent Saturday night with our dear friend Amy and her family. This is her darling 6-year-old daughter Ashley as she lost her first tooth. I’m filming. You can hear Greyson and Amy laughing.
I love Ashley’s face when the tooth came out. It’s that wonderful holey grin of First Graders around the globe. Losing your first tooth is a funny rite of passage we all remember so well. I’m so glad we were there to see her face full of excitement as she realized it was coming out, the hesitation that it will hurt, the pride of finally seeing the tooth out, and anticipation knowing the Tooth Fairy was coming tonight. (The Tooth Fairy’s going rate in 2011 is pretty good. I hear it’s up to $2 a tooth! Charlotte’s teeth may not be worth that much. We’ll see in 6 years.)
What you don’t see in this video is poor Ashley’s panic at seeing blood afterward. Clearly it didn’t hurt her when the tooth came out, but somehow the sight of blood made this incident suddenly painful and traumatic instead of fun and exciting. Amy calmed her down with the promise of a Popsicle and some mama hugs.
As cute as Ashley’s face was, what I’ll remember about this night was Amy’s face. It was full of a mix of motherly emotions I’m coming to understand. Amy’s face showed pride that her child was growing up, hesitation that it seemed to be happening so fast, and pain that her baby may be feeling pain.
I understand those feelings now as I watch my baby get ever closer to rolling over. “Look at my baby! Developing and growing. She’s beautiful. But, oh my God! She’s growing up so fast! I’m not ready for this.”
Ashley and Amy, thanks for letting us be part of this moment as we start witnessing Charlotte’s childhood milestones. I know I won’t be the only mother with mixed emotions showing on her face.
The breast-bottle debate has bogged our blogosphere for some time. But, I have to weigh in after I read something that made me SO MAD!
My sister grew up with Lauren. Lauren just had an adorable little boy named Camden just after Charlotte was born. Lauren wrote on her blog about a woman in line with her at Walmart who saw baby formula in her cart. She asked Lauren, “Are you really not breastfeeding?” EXCUSE ME?! Who does this lady think she is?! (I had a million flashbacks to the string of weird comments I experienced while innocently making my pregnant way around our city.) Why would this person feel the need to say something like that to a young, sleep deprived, new mama?! Did she not stop to think that maybe the pediatrician recommended this for her child?! Lauren was supplementing her breast milk to help Camden gain weight. Some times breastfeeding isn’t what works for some mothers and babies. That’s okay. Hello!? That’s why they make formula. Oh, and by-the-way lady, it’s baby formula. It’s not poison.
If you see a baby with this bottle, speak up. Otherwise, shut it!
Right now, I’m an exclusive breastfeeding mom. I would never make another mom feel bad because she uses formula. I’m not a better mom than her for breastfeeding. If I’m being really honest about it, I breastfeed for 4 reasons:
I’m lazy: Sanitizing bottles and mixing formula, uuggghh! That’s so much effort! I really need my precious time to fool around on the Internet. Pumping milk is bad enough. I can’t be bothered with measuring out formula too. It’s much easier to just be like, “Here kid, have a boob.”
I’m vain: The doctor said it would help me lose weight. She was right! Boo Yah! And, here I thought I was gonna have to do P90X after the baby was born. Uggh! P90X! That’s so much effort! (See above L-A-Z-Y.)
I have a lousy immune system: Remember that kid in Elementary school who got perfect attendance awards at the end of the school year? Yeah, that was never me. I caught every cold and every bout of Strep Throat that went around. I took Amoxicillin like Flintstones Vitamins. Maybe I should have had more Barneys and Dinos. My mom said breastfeeding the first 7 months of my life was good for me and helped keep me from getting sick. I hope Charlotte didn’t inherit my immune system. I’ve read evidence breastfeeding can help keep a baby from getting sick, but formula babies are getting plenty of vitamins too.
I’m lucky: Yeah, that’s right. Just lucky. I’m lucky my baby is a good little booby eater. Latching and let-down has gone okay so far, aside from some early cracking and bleeding. That healed up, and now we’re doing fine.
What if when I go back to work I have to start giving Charlotte formula because my milk supply can’t keep up? I’ll do my best, but I may have to supplement. I refuse to feel guilty about this. I also refuse to have a stranger make me feel guilty about this. Hey lady, if you want to preach about the benefits of breastfeeding, get a blog like the rest of us.
One week from today I drag my poor tired body out of bed at 2:00am. In one week I’ll pump milk for my baby as I put on make-up, hopefully without crying it all off in the process. One week from today I’ll put rollers in my hair, and suck down as much coffee as allowed for a nursing mother.
Then, I’ll leave her. I’ll leave my tiny sleeping baby in my suit and high heels to join the world I left in late October. I think that’s when I may physically feel my heart break. I’ll feel the same stomach lurch every working mother feels. But, this is MY baby. This is MY time to feel this way, and I’m dreading it.
In my head, I know she’ll be fine. Greyson will take her to her new school where she’ll be with other babies who’s mothers had to leave them too. She’ll learn social skills and build up her little immune system by catching every cold that goes around. She’ll be fine. I’ll be there around 1:00pm or 2:00pm to pick her up. She’ll do great.
There are some things I’m looking forward to about going back to work. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, I want to continue to make strides. We’ll get on a schedule in our house. Albeit a very early schedule, but a schedule is a good thing.
In one week I’ll shake the cobwebs in my new “mommy brain” and put on my game face. But, make no mistake, behind that game face I’ll be thinking of this face…
“She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family.” Proverbs 31:15
I’m Amy…new mother, wife, journalist, blogger, dog owner, and coffee enthusiast. Add this to my list of titles…paci retriever. In the past two months I have learned to catch a spit-out pacifier in midair. I have dug them from under sofas and between seat cushions. I have pacifiers in my purse and tucked away in every room in our house. They especially accumulate in the kitchen where they will go in the dishwasher, again. Most often they’re coated with a layer of dust and dog hair. (I do always clean them once they hit the ground. I heard this quirk stops after the first baby.)
Oh, how I wish Charlotte could hold and retrieve her own paci! We’re watching a Maggie episode of “The Simpsons” tonight to see if she picks up any binky-handling tips.
Honestly, I’m okay with being a paci retriever for now. I’ll tell you why. In the hospital I noticed Charlotte attempting to suck on her hand. This of course meant she was hungry and I fed her. However, it got me to thinking about thumb sucking. The next time I saw her hand go for her mouth, and she had been recently fed, I immediately went for the paci. Fortunately she’s taking them.
I do not want a thumbsucker! I don’t think it’s cute. I think it’s gross. Sorry. I know lots of you have adorable little thumbsuckers in your house, but that’s just my opinion. Are paci’s any more sanitary than thumbs? Probably not, but I still find it disgusting. Remember that kid in 1st grade who still sucked their thumb? Remember the torture that 6-year-old endured being called a “baby”? You can take away a paci, but you can’t cut off a kid’s thumb. Can I train my daughter to be a paci baby? I don’t know, but I’m gonna give it a try.
How do you wean a paci addict by toddlerhood? My cousin Teresa weaned her son off pacifiers by having him give them to Charlotte. She and her husband explained to their son that he was a big boy now and didn’t need a binky, but Charlotte is a baby and needed them.
Cousin Fletcher handing over his binkys to Charlotte, officially making him a “Big Boy”. I heard that night was a rough one for mom and dad, but now he’s doing well in a binky-free home.
Plus, there’s evidence pacifier use may reduce SIDS. I think that’s why they gave one to her in the nursery at the hospital. So far we’ve avoided any nipple confusion between breast, bottle and pacifier.
So, just call me Marge. I’m continuing my attempts to raise a little Maggie Simpson.
Charlotte likes the MAM brand pacis the best. I like them because they come with the little carrying case.
I wanted to make last night special for my football fan. We ate at one of the best steakhouses in Raleigh. I had the chef prepare a special dish for us. Duck. As in Oregon Duck!
At the beginning of the football season Greyson used to rub my swollen belly for good luck. Last night he kissed what he calls “Auburn’s good luck charm” after a National Championship win.
