We made it through the Christmas concert alive. We got both children to the church in one piece (Anne crying, Henry saying he was nervous). Anne flirted with the people in the pew behind us for a time, and then began fussing just as the concert was starting. After guzzling 4 ounces of pumped milk, she fussed some more before falling asleep. Hank went up for his big moment of glory, singing "Sweetly Slumber" with his class, which I have to admit, wasn't the best Christmas song I've ever heard. But certainly, the children singing it were adorable. Anne slept for the remainder of the concert, and Hank looked pink-cheeked. When we left, Hank felt relieved in the car while Anne howled all the way home. Mike got Hank into bed and I nursed Anne down. Thankfully, both went to sleep with a minimum of fuss.
After that, Mike and I both settled in happily with drinks to chat and watch some tv together. I pulled my latest gift sock out, and I could see Mike giving it the evil eye. I know that he teasingly thinks that my affections have transferred from their rightful place with him to my knitting.
"Oh, do you want to move down here..."
"I'M ON A DEADLINE."
Which, you know, I am. But I compromised by working on my sock for a bit and then putting it away for some quality cuddling time. My husband is very cute.
Totally unrelated to the above, but it was on my mind (I do this a lot), I thought I'd write just a short spell on breastfeeding. Anne will be 7 months old on Sunday, and I haven't written about it in awhile, so I thought it would be worthwhile. We're still very much nursing. She does get 1 solid "meal" per day, since she was 5 months old or so. It's either a fruit or vegetable. And she likes them, for the most part. She nurses the rest of the time, or is fed pumped milk by her daddy during the day.
With Henry, I loved nursing. I never considered quitting prior to a year, and was happy to go to 18 months if he had kept going. He ended up weaning around 15 months. I was devastated when he did so. With Anne? It's a bit different. :) I do also love nursing her, but she's a LOT more difficult to nurse than her brother. Read: PAINFUL. I've had cracked and bleeding nipples with her, and soreness I never experienced with Henry. Her current thing is to push against me with her hand and pull in the opposite direction with her mouth as she nurses. As you can imagine, this is a great big OW. I feel like I'm wrestling with her a lot as she nurses. Although I enjoy the closeness I share with her, and I'll be honest, breastfeeding is actually *easier* than formula feeding since you don't have to mix anything (and you wash a lot less bottles), and certainly cheaper, I'm just not enjoying it the way I did last time. She's also still a spit up machine when she nurses, whereas when she takes a bottle, nary a bit of spittle in sight.
I set my original goal at 6 months, and we've surpassed that. My new goal is 8 months. I'll re-evaluate then. I'll go monthly at that point. But I can tell, I'm getting ready to wean her. Breastfeeding should be mutually desired, and right now, it's not so much a warm and fuzzy on my end. Pumping is also wearing thin. I have to pump twice a day at work, and it's a bit of a production. It's not terrible, and I would never consider not breastfeeding at all (no judging, I just want to breastfeed my babies for at least 6 months) but I'm ready to cut her loose.
She's terribly, terribly cute though.
Sounds like you have a nursling just like mine. I almost never enjoyed nursing him! Always restless, tugging, pulling, pushing, squirming, and worst of all, grabbing hair.ReplyDelete
I kind of thought all babies did that. The thought that Henry didn't is encouraging to me ... maybe the next one will be an easy baby to nurse!