Saturday, September 15, 2007

The Glamorous Life

Just a short rant here about how the milk, it is in. And about how the kid, he is hungry- but only for the boob. Eli is a breast man. He loathes bottles and pacifiers; they are his NEMESIS, his arch enemy, and he will fight them to the death. Which means that while theoretically, I could pump and have bottles at the ready for other people to occasionally take one of the daily dozen feedings, in reality, there is only one person on the face of this earth who can feed my son. That person is me. I'd be the girl who, last night at an office party, sat propped in a corner, forcing her eyelids open by raising her eyebrows in order to not appear drugged. I also tried not to engage in conversation as I could not recall a single person's name. I forget important information like my daughter's age and birthday (in front of the Kindermusik teacher- nice,) and words like "mailbox" (what, it's a hard word!) My brains are being slowly, methodically leached from my body through my nipples.
My son, besides being a picky eater, is a grazer. He does not wake up, get hungry, eat for fifteen minutes from each side, burp, and then happily stare into space for another two hours until his next feeding. He wakes up hungry, eats for about two minutes, falls asleep. I play with his cheek and try to wake him up, change his diaper to try to wake him up, convince him to drink for another three minutes or so at the other side, and then he's napping again. Ten minutes later, when I have finally given up and packed the girls away, he's awake again and starving. And so on and so forth. I feel like a human pacifier. A soggy, gross one, which leaks milk all over the couch and the bedsheets from whichever side I happen to be laying on.
Oh, and how's this as an example of both my mommy brainedness and my glamorishousness? This morning, a half hour before Addy's first swim class at the Y, I'm packing her up to go and suddenly realize that her swim diapers and bathing suit are still at my mom's house. Where they have a pool. Where I thought it would be SO convenient to store all the swimming paraphernalia. So I'm flapping around crazily in my nursing gown and hot pink slippers, throwing half-dressed children into their car seats and tearing out of the driveway towards my mom's, which luckily is about five minutes away.
I managed to get there, get the stuff, and get back in about ten minutes, which means it is now roughly fifteen minutes until the start of class. The Y is approximately fifteen minutes from our house. So Jim and I are putting forth this amazing team effort, with me changing a poopy diaper and putting on a swimmie diaper while Addy stands there in bewilderment, and Jim pulling her dress over her head and gathering up swim trunks and beach towels and keys and hustling them both out the door. The poor kid looked dazed, yet smiled and waved weakly at me through the slamming door. Her first experience with the Y is off to a swell start!
Also, for a quick pick-me-up, there's nothing like being made to feel like a drug addict by the nurse on the other end of the phone. See, I finally got up the nerve to call and ask if I could get more of my prescription, right? And good old Mary Lou (yes, I knew her, which made it that much worse) pauses, then says rather severely, "Well, I'm pretty sure he's not going to order more of that. Those are very strong narcotics you were taking. I'll ask, but it's very doubtful. Call back later- maybe he can prescribe something that's milder." Guess who hung up sheepishly and never called back?

15 comments:

Jess said...

Call back! That woman is just being interfering. Even if you get something milder, it's better than nothing.

Anonymous said...

WHY do they do that with medication, WHY?? Obviously we are not having babies just to score narcotics.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, can you imagine someone who would have a baby just to score narcotics? Seriously. What a bitch. I think you should call back, too.

I feel your pain on being The Boob Machine. Peanut despised bottles and pacifiers as well which has sort of make me feel completely tethered to her in a sometimes suffocating kind of way. No babysitter, no time alone, ever, for Mommy. Sigh. We're almost at one year, thank the gods, and I am ready for some weaning!!

RachelAnn said...

Oh hunny I love you I'm sorry you're having such a crappy time right now!!! Sorry I haven't called all week it has been a crazy crazy week for me with barely time to breath but I'll see you tomorrow!! xoxo

mamashine said...

That sucks. I'll be glad to mail you my leftover painkillers. :)

Anonymous said...

I say we all gather up our left over Darvocet and Vicodin and mail it to Sarah. Take that, Mary Lou!!!

bananafana said...

my son was a grazer the exact same way - even at the hospital I got NO sleep because he wouldn't eat for long enough and they kept making me wake him up to try again. each attempt to wake him up took over an hour and when we finally gave up it was time to start over. We bought EVERY type of pacifier there was praying he would take one with no luck.
I'd gladly send you any narcotics I have - except the percocet. I'm hording those (even my husband's old ones). I say ask again and take anything you can get!

Mommy Daisy said...

Oh boy. It's too bad they won't give you more meds if you need them. And I had to work really hard with Zachariah to get him to eat in one sitting too. It was a long hard road breastfeeding that one (here's hoping it will be easier next time). Too bad about the not taking a pacifier even. Yikes. This too shall pass.

Funny story about the "mommy fog" though.

ttsc said...

Happy Belated Birthday!

jen said...

Happy Birthday! ;)

also call her back! the hell with what she thinks. I hope you are feeling less pained by now though.

Your son sound like mine. That boy would have been such a happy baby if only I allowed him to stay attached to the boob 24 hours a day! Not sucking mind you.. just to have it there.. in his mouth.. just in case...

justme said...

my daughter turns a year on the 29th...i am still nursing in the am and pm, she refused bottles...it was hell....i finally started the cup early...she still hardly takes any milk from the cup. she LOVES her mama, i tell ya...no one else will do. at a year she is getting better. enjoying your blog

Marie Green said...

This too shall pass.

It's so hard to remember that while you are in it though, right? I remember the newborn stage well. And often not fondly, especially the first time around.

Dress him in cute clothes and take his picture. That always helped me! =)

Black Sheeped said...

Poor doggie. I'd take in about fifty million dogs if J would let me. And if we had room. As it is, our house is small enough we are constantly being covered lovingly in a blanket of fur.

Erin said...

Oh man, those days of trying to nurse a sleeeepy baby are *tough*.

You definetly deserve your drugs. You know better than she does how you're feeling.

d e v a n said...

UGH! having a baby hurts, dammit!