Friday, February 17, 2012

"Breastfeeding makes you skinny" and other hipster lies.

I've been thinking about this blog for a little while and I haven't written it because I was trying to figure out a way to write it without offending people, then I realized that this is my own damn blog and if people are offended by my opinions then they can beat it.  However, I'm not nearly as hardcore of a non-carer what others think as I would like to let on or believe really, so let me first write this disclaimer before I get in to the opinion part...

 I can coexist with people who have different opinions than I do.  In fact, my own husband and I are on complete opposite political spectrums and we don't even believe in the same God.  Okay, well technically he is the same God, but you know, the J-Man, the dude that died on the cross to save our souls so we could have eternal life and all that?  The guy who my entire childhood foundation for life was built?  Yeah, my husband...not so much, not buying into the whole "Jesus" thing.  So, if he and I can live together and actually love each other through all of our differences on opinion, then surely, my friends and I can think differently about other things like child rearing and coexist and even respect one another.

There. Now, that being said, let me go ahead and say that if your child is able to walk up to you and ask you to please remove your top so he/she can suck your breast for milk in any way shape or form...I think you are CAAARAAZAY.  Also, let's get one big lie out the way here, "breastfeeding makes you skinny".  This is a complete bold faced lie made up by those militant crazy ladies from the La Leche League trying to get women to breast feed.  Not only does breast feeding NOT make you skinny (unless of course you were a complete skeleton to begin with and if so then why are you reading this blog because we are definitely not friends), but it makes you fatter or at least less skinny because each and every time you finish breastfeeding your little nugget, you are starving beyond any comprehension of a normal human.  You will dig through the garbage to find something edible, you will eat a living animal if it comes in your path.  Nothing will stop you from ingesting food and large quantities.  Try eating less while you breastfeed...I dare you.  Also, try working out with those huge ass knockers full of milk bouncing around.  I tried running one time and I could barely walk or stand up straight for a week.  Not to mention, while I was running a lady drove by me after I had been in motion for all of 8 seconds and yelled, "keep it up, you're almost there.

I breast fed L & C for 6 months.  I was committed to doing it and let me say, the bonding and all of that are great but for the most part, it sucked big time.  Let's just skip over the first part where you spend 99% of your first month figuring out how to get the baby (or babies) to latch, stay latched, and wonder if they are even getting anything out.  Blisters form on your nipples and they crack and bleed.  Each and every time the baby latches on you are in excruciating pain and want to cry, scream, cuss everyone on the planet out and sometimes you can even get something really awesome call mastitis which feels like the flu and is an infected milk duct. We know, we know, it's the best thing for your baby...blah, blah, blah.  I did it.  I wanted to do it for them, but let me tell you, I would NEVER judge anyone who didn't do it.  In hindsight, I wonder if I could have been a better mom had I been more worried about L & C's well being more than my constant obsession over whether I had enough milk and the endless cycle of bfing, pumping, cleaning, storing, etc. 

I'm going to say a dirty word now so all of you granola loving hipsters close your ears...BABYWISE.  Yep, I said it and I live by it.  I fully endorse this book and if you are one of those hipsters and you didn't close your eyes or ears, then let me ask...have you even read it?  In my experience most of the people who hate the book (and there are lots and lots who have a full on hatred for it), have not even read it.  The book is about a blend of what the baby tells you he/she needs and parental assessment.  My hubs and I followed it and it saved our life.  Some people think the book says don't hold your child and let them cry and pretty much just about die of starvation.  These people need to get a grip.  These are the same people who are letting their toddlers milk them like cattle and who are sleeping in the "family bed" with their children.  Don't even get me started on that complete insanity.  If you are "wearing" your child in a sling on your body for hours and hours each day, don't be surprised when he/she still lives in your basement when he/she is 30 years old, jobless, and asks you to hit up the grocery store to restock all their favorite items (organic only of course). 

Discipline is another hot button in our society these days.  Frankly, I don't see a lot of parents doing it at all.  I mean, sure you have the Walmart spectrum of some parents full on beating their kids in aisle 3 (disgusting and SO WRONG) and then you have the mother who is being beaten and told what to do by her bratty kid, looking broken and saying, "Please respect me, Stephen." as little Stevie is throwing everything off the shelf and telling his mother to "SHUT UP" (true sighting).  I am currently struggling with discipline in my own home because I have 13 month olds who hit, steal toys, etc. on the regular and don't seem to really get why they can't do it.  I know they are young, but we are starting the discipline now with not allowing toy stealing, hitting, etc.  We grab their hands, point, and give a firm, "NO".  They cry, throw themselves on the ground, scream, and we ignore.  Soon, we will step it up to time out land.  I hope more parents are disciplining their children because there really is nothing worse than a horrible brat of a kid and I can't help but believe that if you start from birth letting your kid call all the shots while you snap to it trying to fulfil their every need before you upset them one tiny bit, that you really are just breeding a generation of entitled bratty know it alls who think the world revolves around them and are the bane of society.  But again, that is just my humble opinion. 

So, all of you folks out there who differ from my opinion, can't we all just coexist and get along?  I'll do my part to ensure my kids are not the brattiest in the play group...and if they are, which I am sure they will be at some point, I WILL discipline them.  I respect each and every parent for their decisions because in the end, this having and raising kids thing is HARD.  It is way harder than most people (including me) realize before they do it.  To each his own, and do whatever you believe is right.  We can still be friends...but if you are in Target (because I don't really go to Walmart) and little Stevie is being a ginormous B-RAT and you are sweetly begging him to "respect you" when you have never demanded his respect or parented him since HE is clearly in charge, not you...then I will most definitely be silently judging you.

Monday, January 9, 2012

A year in the life of a REAL mom with twins

Okay, so it's been over a year since I've blogged and I've been thinking about updating but it seems so overwhelming because let's face it, a ton of shit has gone down, and I mean that quite literally.  I finally decided to put my fears aside of summing up childbirth and making it a whole year with twins.  I have to admit that I was also intimidated because in case you haven't noticed I tend to be most parts sarcastic with a couple heaping doses of judgy, irritated, and stone heartyness and people don't like that so much when you are talking about child birthing and rearing.  Also, have I lost my funny mojo because I'm a mother?  What if I accidentally start shitting out rainbows and sunshine while talking about my darling little nuggets and can't stop myself from regaling you with their hilarious little antics.

In the past, I had friends who were straight shooters, friends who never minded telling me my ass looked fat in those pants or that it was time to ditch the perm when I had rocked it 5 or 10 years later than everyone else, friends who, I was sure would give me the real story on labor, delivery, recovery and life after kids.  I would always wait patiently after these friends disappeared into a hibernation of sorts.  They were in the newborn cocoon, and I would wait patiently to hear the scoop, only to have them emerge into this new weird alien mother butterfly where all they could talk about was the special love of their loins.  How I couldn't possibly understand what a precious gift from God a child truly is and there it was, I had lost them forever.

Yes, to some extent I get it.  I get the love thing, and the awe thing.  It used to annoy the shit out of me how people think their snot-nosed, large eared, dopey kid is the cutest little specimen on the planet and surely everyone wants to be subjected to the little drooly thing all the time at every occasion.  Now I have one of the drooliest kids on the planet and one that sports a pretty major dopey look most waking hours of the day and of course I think they are the two most precious (a word I despise), adorable, sweethearts in the world. But, do you want to hear all about how they melted my stone cold heart into mush and how I love them more than life and all of their cute antics like how my daughter just learned how to stomp her feet when we sing "If You're Happy and you Know it", and she does it really fast like she's dancing a little jig, or how my son just learned how to say the word, "ball", and he follows a rolling soccer ball around the house saying "bah, bah", with that said dopey grin on his face, or did that just make you throw up in your mouth a little and you want to know what the hell happened to the girl who spills the real shit?

Well gang, here I am...let me get down to business and sum up the past year...

Last 4 weeks of pregnancy-Ouch my back! Ouch my hips! No, that can't be what my ass looks like in the mirror! Damn, I have to pee! Ugh, I can't take a dump! Damn, I have to pee!  Get these demon seeds out of my body!!!!!! 

Childbirth- Holy shitballs, ouch, ouch...what the F***###$$$$$?! 

Leaving the hospital- No, please don't make us leave.  I promise you won't even really know we are here, we'll just hang out in this room here and clean up after ourselves, just please don't make us do this on our own!

Coming home-Awwww, this is awesome, we can do this.  We are a real family now.  We got this, no worries!

24 Hours after that- "Hi Mom, um yeah, it's me...we actually do want you to come help us, we just realized we have no clue what the hell we are doing with one infant much less two.  Is there any chance you can launch yourself in a rocket ship and be here in say, the next 12 seconds?"

Breastfeeding-Holy shitballs, ouch, ouch...what the F***###$$$$?!

Months 1-3-sleep 1 hour, wake up and take care of the the excruciating waking hours you will learn what it feels like to be in actual physical pain from exhaustion, hallucinate from lack of sleep, hate your husband and everything he stands for as a human being, contemplate running away, eat raw cookie dough or anything else that is remotely edible and will take less than 32 seconds to cook, realize your husband hates you and the person you are to the core and can't believe the two of you ever thought you could rear children together since you clearly do not agree on whether the sky is even blue, not take a shower for many many days in a row, get puked, peed, and shit on, love your husband and can't believe how much you hated him just 14 minutes before that, get hemorrhoids that will turn your asshole inside out and look like you planted enough grapes to possibly start a winery on your bunghole, wonder if your ankles will forever look like sequoias and your feet look like they belong in Bedrock, fantasize about torturing and then murdering any other mother who brags about her kids sleeping through the night from day 1, and last but certainly not least, bid your youth and every freedom that comes with it, a big fat farewell forever.

Any Months after that (it all starts to become a blur)-go back to work, spill pumped milk all over your lap at least once a day, pump in the car to the delight of many passing truckers, let your children cry it out because you are too exhausted to go up to that god damn nursery one more time, feel mommy guilt for letting them cry it out, but not enough to do anything about it, realize the crying it out method worked because they now sleep through the night, feel like a failure as a mother, employee, and wife at any given moment of any given day, but realize that it really is all worth it even though your body will most certainly never be the same and you've aged about 10 years in the last one.  Have strangers say things to you that make you want to strangle them like, "wow, you have your hands full" as they are letting the door slam in your face while you're balancing a double stroller, diaper bag, purse, and a shopping cart full of groceries.

When people say that having kids is hard, believe them.  I didn't, not really anyway.  I don't think you can ever prepare yourself for it and I read at least 72 books telling me how hard it was going to be.  Incredibly, my only sibling, Melissa, is currently 13 weeks pregnant with twins.  I am so excited for her but I hope I don't ruin it for her with all of my negative stories.  I am trying to prepare her for what it will be like when in reality, there really is no way to prepare for it.  You just have to go through it.  A good friend gave me a bag that had the words, "keep calm and carry on" on the front.  I can't tell you how often I stared at those words during the first few months of late nights and frantic moments.  It sounds so simple, but it really was profound for me in my darkest of moments.  Then again, if that doesn't work, there is always large quantities of Xanex and Vodka.

Last week we celebrated the twins' first birthday.  We enjoyed giving them gifts.  They enjoyed playing with the wrapping paper and eating fist fulls of cake.  They are the greatest gift I have ever been given and the hardest thing I've ever done.  Thanks L &'s to another year of fun, and plenty more material for this blog. Cheers!