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breastfeeding, Mom Stuff, Not Pleased

I am SO SICK OF BOOBS. Apparently Ruby is too. So we’re making some changes.

July 13, 2013

Can I be totally honest with you guys right now? Breastfeeding this child has been a super hell. Like the whole thing. Supahhell. And my trade for the fiery hotness has been the happiest sweetest little girl on earth. Breastfeeding G was cake, but he was here as a personal representative from the Superhell.

You win some you lose some I guess. But I’ve been extra miserable feeding Ruby. So much so that I’ve been counting down the months until she’s a year old and I can quit this bitch.

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And then I thought…wait. If I’m miserable, something needs to change. And yesterday it did.

But let me back up a bit. I haven’t shared my breastfeeding journey with everyone fully because I fear the judgement. I know that I’m making a choice to breastfeed and I know that I’m choosing to take the hardest path possible.  I have my reasons, and they may not be your reasons. But that doesn’t make it less reason-y.

But back to the judgement.  Judge my overly planned outfit to sit at home and never see anyone besides babies, my inability to adequately shave my armpits correctly, my choice to smile without showing teeth. But judge me as a mother, and I melt into a pile of Ecto Cooler.

So yeah. Breastfeeding makes me a sensitive sally.

Ruby has tongue tie. She also has lip tie. Her tongue tie was cut when she was tiny. It reattached. It reattached after lots of therapy to keep it from doing so. She’s now too old to have it cut again unless we get in the car and travel FAR away to a specialist…where it could reattach again. Ruby can not digest dairy, soy, cocoa, eggs and most grains at a minimum. If I do eat these foods she breaks out in full body eczema and just stops pooping all together. When she does poop it will be the color of leprechaun tears. Ruby cries when I nurse her. She sees the breast and cries. She hates nursing still. I can only nurse her *sometimes* in her bedroom, in her chair, in the dark, with white noise, with no toddlers or dads around. She will not nurse in public. She will not nurse downstairs. She will nurse at 3am and 4am and 5am and 515am and 516am. Because of all of this my supply goes up and down almost weekly.

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I stress about if she’s getting enough, just how damaged her gut is based on all of her reactions. I stress about if I should just give her formula. I tried giving it to her and she spit it out. I stress about if she’s gaining weight. I stress about never sleeping ever again.

But again, all of this is my choice. I choose to breastfeed her because it’s what I truly believe is best for her based on her damaged gut.

But I just couldn’t deal anymore. After I barely could pump and ounce I decided we were making a change. I’m now an exclusive pumper. And I’m more scared of this than I was in 1999 after Blair Witch Project.

EXCLUSIVE PUMPING. That means that I pump all the milk, I feed the milk in the bottle and I clean all the shit. WITH a toddler. But guys…I don’t have a choice anymore. If I want to keep breastfeeding her, I need to deal with the hand that we’ve been dealt and get this girl to gain some weight and not despise eating.

So yesterday I was home with the 2 kids and I set my pump station up in the living room with my hands free set up. No relaxing bedroom, deep breathing pumping shit. This was mommybuildatower mommyplaytrains mommyrubyiseatingaleaf pumping. And like I thought I would, I pumped barely 2 ounces.

Dude, I hate that hands free shit. You have to get like fully naked, strap it on, slip the pumps into the slits so it fits juuust right over your nipples. I googled some images of this so I could see what I needed to do. And man, apparently there are a lot of wonderful things you can do while you are pumping:

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You can check your instagram feed with attitude.

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You can stand in the middle of your room and booz it up

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You can catch up on your Short Hair Cuts for Straight Girl magazine

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You can sexy skype with your favorite fetish group. Put a cardigan on though, it’s nipply.

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When they ask “what are you wearing?” You can give a super interesting answer.

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You can look at lady faces in your magazine while drinking out of your nipple ombre mug.

Here’s the prob I have with this. Stare at my milk bags all day. Everyone this side of the Atlantic has seen them. I do not care. But my stomach? Um no. Everyone of these bitches has a Kelly Kapowski middrift on except the booz hound who is wearing some contraption that I don’t have time for. I’m not interested in getting 80’s naked 6 times a day in my living room.

But to be fair, I have been meaning to catch up on my lady face magazine.

I mean seriously, if these are the things you are doing while pumping, just hold the damn pump. I’m chasing after a toddler who insists that pooping under his train table is way more appropriate than an actual potty.

So far I have not been able to figure out leaving the house while pumping every 2 hours and then feeding a bottle. People say “pump in the car”. I say I’d prefer to not be 80’s naked anywhere, but I’m going to say that my car tops that list.

My body is like freaked out by the whole thing too. I’m getting maybe 2oz at a time. I’m eating oatmeal out my ass, I’m drinking sick teas, I’m taking supplments that I think are called galactalogues?? It’s a word that means milk maker. B says it’s where aliens come from. I say come closer B so I can punch you in the mouth.

So I’m bringing all of this to you friends and friends of friends. I know many of you out there have been there and done that. I need your best tips to make this as easy as possible.

Help a pumper out.

This face needs it

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tear.

PS I have to get my wisdom teeth out. I’m 32. More on that bullshit another time.

PPS The baby pageant is back in town. It’s redemption time. More on that awesomeness another another time.

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After my day is done and I need to not think about lady boobs for 45 seconds. I do the smartest thing ever. I read this. GUYS, if you don’t know about Honest Toddler, I do not know what sort of life you are living. Honest Toddler tweets things like -“This isn’t a restaurant.” And it never will be. Not with those recipes- And also this -Old MacDonald Had A Farm sounds like an episode of Cribs set to music. We get it. You’re rich.- And everytime I pee my pants and then say DAMN IT WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT. Well I’ve been reading the Honest Toddler book and it’s pretty much the best thing ever. If you haven’t read it YOU MUST. My non child life is Real Housewives and this book. You will thank me. Also buy it for your friends. Then they will thank you.

Can I be totally honest with you guys right now? Breastfeeding this child has been a super hell. Like…

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Awesome things, babies, breastfeeding, Mom Stuff

48 hours away from the baby. A little diarrhea, a few tears. And I’ll also tell you about the kids.

June 17, 2013

Guys, we survived. Babies, boobs and all the other B things. We made it the 48 hours apart. I diarrhead 90 times about it. But we did it.

For those catching up, this was my first time away from almost 7 month old Ruby. G was all, bitch please, I got this. He did.not.care. He was only interested in his Nana and what toys he could steal from her.

B and I were prepping to travel 5 hours to Connecticut to a wedding on Fisher’s Island. I pumped for FOUR months to get enough for the 48 hours away from the Rub-ster. And of course my supply drops right before we leave from stress. But we kissed our kiddos goodbye, handed over the NINE page instruction manual that came with our children in their boxes and peaced out.

I cried for 19 seconds in the car. Would Ruby ever nurse again? She loves that damn bottle and hates my boobs. Would she think I left her forever? Would she grow fangs and vampire bite me when I got home? The answer to one of these is yes.

Dudes. Connecticut is no joke. and Fisher’s Island is seriously no joke. It’s like if Martha’s Vineyard and the secret service had a baby. Because it’s super private, super fancy and super northeast coast. You have to take a boat to get there and  you have to be the king of something to live there. It’s BEAUTIFUL and I told B to get his shit together now so we could live there. He gave me his “sign up for match.com already” look.

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Now my task was to pump every 3 hours. But then I changed my mind and pumped every 2 hours because I’m a sadist and because I was so paranoid about my milk going away forever. I’ve never been in this sort of long term pumping situation before. It’s some real shit people. I’m pumping in bathroom stalls, backseats of cars, random bedrooms, under tables, on the backs of unicorns. Everywhere. I pumped. And pumping is a funny little thing. Your boobs totally get stage fright in weird places. You’re like I KNOW you have milk in there LET ME HAVE IT. And your boobs are all, NO, it’s weird here! I refuse to let go. And so you do things like watch videos of babies. Talk gently to your boobs. Take yoga breaths. Buy them Tiffany’s. Whatever it takes. And sometimes they cooperate.

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So there I am on more boats back and forth than I can count, a no-cell phone allowed country club, in 2 fancy dresses with a tow along cooler and my giant pump bag. Every single person at that wedding knew that I was pumping. It usually went like this…

Man: We’d like everyone to be seated now for dinner please.

B: I’m waiting for my wife, she’s pumping.

Man: Pumping?

B: Yes, pumping.

Man: Oh you have a baby?

B: Yep and she’s pumping.

———

Lady: What’s that bag?

Me: My pump

Lady: Your pump?

Me: Yes my pump.

Lady: Oh you have a baby?

Me: Yes and I’m pumping.

Probably this happened 74 times. And you know what? I wasn’t embarrassed at all. I was actually proud of myself for committing and I was proud to let the world know about it. I usually got a “good for you”. But man, it wasn’t easy. Especially leaving at 10am for bridesmaid stuff the day of the wedding and getting home at 2am. That’s a lot of swishy sloshy milk to carry around. But I did it.

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And when it was all said and done, the following things happened:

1) I actually increased my supply. Ruby is a shitty nurser so pumping religiously every 2 hours while taking Mother’s Milk Plus like doubled my supply. Winner winner breastmilk dinner.

2) I actually relaxed. I know. It shocked me too. Wedding stuff can be stressful for people. My dress is stained, the makeup lady is a bitch, I forgot my earrings. Whatever. I became the calm, problem solver. Everything was easy. Do you know why? Because ANYTHING without two kids IS easy. And everything is solvable. This is why moms should rule the world.

3) I slept. More than I have in 9 months.

4) I drank. More than I have in 9 months.

5) I wore heels. More than I have in 9 months.

6) I dressed up and had fancy hair and fancy bags and fancy clothes (thank you Rent The Runway yet again for that yellow dress, bag and necklace). And it was awesome.

7) I actually got to talk to adults for more than 3 minutes without a mommymommymommyMOMMY in the background. I spent great time with my family and it was something that I’ll never forget.

And when we returned, Ruby had drank all but 3 ounces of the pumped milk. She woke up once a night. And was so happy to see me that she gave me her first FOR REAL arms wrapped tight, head in my neck hug. And it was awesome. G was all, whatever, I have diggers to attend to.

However she grew like 4 more teeth. And yes, she has vampire fangs now. HISSSSSSSSSSS.

We came home on Father’s Day.

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So if I can do it,  you can do it too. So pack up your pump and head out to Dollywood or something weird. You deserve it.

Back to real life. Back to cleaning out the poop from under my nails.

Cinderella is home from the ball. And my prince smells like beer farts.

xoxo

MODG

PS. I will be a bridesmaid in your wedding as well for a small fee. I accept gift cards and cakes.

 

Guys, we survived. Babies, boobs and all the other B things. We made it the 48 hours apart. I…

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babies, breastfeeding, Mom Stuff

How to leave your kids and not diarrhea poop about it. No, you tell me how. I don’t know.

June 5, 2013

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I need a friend. I need a friend to be like, dude CHILL. Can you be that friend for me? Internet friends are the new real life human.

See, I’m on my 2nd child. This we know. But aren’t 2nd time moms supposed to be like, relaxed about stuff? Aren’t they supposed to look at all those silly first time moms and giggle at their sheer panic over that rash that is actually strawberry smeared on their face and remarkably unstained designer Polo shirt? Why am I not giggling? I WANT TO F-ING GIGGLE.

I’m leaving the chitlins for the first time overnight. Actually for 2 nights. Am I a wreck. I’m a panicked, stress acne, nerve diarrhea wreck. AND I’ve been pumping for THREE months to get enough milk for this one teeny baby trip.

I’m in a wedding. And it’s going to be shmance. And it’s on a fancy northeast island. And I get to be with B. And I get to drink alcohol. And I get to wear clothes without wearing a baby carrier. I should be jazzed right? TELL ME I SHOULD BE JAZZED.

So here’s what’s been going on. I haven’t blogged much about it because it’s a sensitive topic with me. I’m having trouble finding the humor in it. And the last thing I wanted was a bunch of snappy comments telling me that I should stop breastfeeding. Ruby is a terrible nurser. TERRIBLE. She nurses for 45 seconds then wants to look around. She squirms until I pick her up to see what’s going on. I’ve tried the dark room, the quiet room and it SORT of works. But accomplishing darkness and any sort of attempt at quiet with a 2 year old is a joke.

But it was sort of a wake up call when at her 5 month check up, she had dropped from the 90th percentile to the 30th. I had to get it together and I had to get this child to eat. So from then on, her “good” nursing sessions were in the middle of the night. I KNOW. JUST KILL ME. But she nursed best when she was sleepy. And at her next appointment she was up to the 45th percentile.

But I’m on edge about it guys. I mean, it’s like my most important job to grow this child. And now I’m leaving her for 2 days and she’s going to get a glorious bottle, which she loves. I mean she can guzzle that shit without any stupid waiting around for let-downs, without staring at the back of a chair or MAYBE if she’s lucky, whatever cool necklace I’m wearing. So when I come back, is she going to keep nursing or tell me to beat it?

We just started feeding her solids. Scratch that. I tried feeding her solids and she glued her lips shut. So we’re doing Baby Led Weaning again (where babies feed themselves whole foods). But with her being such a calorie asshole, I wanted to shove some calorie goodness down her throat myself. But no, Ruby has other plans.

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Those plans include diminishing my milk supply. Because she hates nursing, my supply drops constantly unless I take a boat load of supplements and eat oatmeal constantly. So pumping enough for this trip has been brutal. But I THINK we did it. THINK. I have no idea.

And then? The next weekend? We have ANOTHER wedding. And no I can’t skip it. Do you know why? It’s SINGLE GUY’S WEDDING! I mean do you believe it? He’s getting married. I obviously have to be there.

So now it’s your turn. Tell me to calm down. Tell me it will be fine. Tell me that she will be ok while I’m away and eat and sleep and STILL eat and sleep when I come home. Tell me I look good in salmon. I mean, ok you don’t have to. But you can.

I asked B to do the same:

Me: I’m nervous about leaving Ruby for this long. I’m being crazy right?

B: Yeah I’m nervous too. 2 days will be tough.

Me: Um, you are the rational one. So tell me IT’S FINE.

B: It’s just a long time.

Me: YOU ARE NOT HELPING

B: Yeah I’m nervous.

Me: I hate you. I need to talk to my internet friends. They get me.

B: ….

So you’re up.

thanks.

 

 

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I need a friend. I need a friend to be like, dude CHILL. Can you be that friend for…

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Awesome things, Dramababy, Mom Stuff, Toddlers

The 14 things I can do without a toddler. Oh I didn’t tell you? I’m on TODDLERCATION.

May 9, 2013

B and others who know me in real life say that I overshare.

Duh B and others.

Hi, I write MODGblog.

But I posted this on facebook Sunday:

“Today I cried a little as my best boy got on an airplane and left mommy for a week. Then I pooped by myself for the first time in 5 months and got over it.”

I’m not sure what’s overshare-y about that. Poop is poop and it comes out of everyone’s butts. But it’s time to talk about what that post was really about.

I AM TODDLER-LESS FOR THE WEEK. Let that sink in a little.

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For those of you who have a toddler and a baby…especially an active toddler with an affinity for construction equipment and destruction, you know what I’m saying.

I am here with Ruby and no G. This is the first time I’ve been away from him since our babymoon to Miami and the 2nd time total ever. I didn’t really know what that meant until he left. It means a lot of things. It means that I miss him dearly. Let’s get that out of the way. But it also means these things. These things that I now can do and some that I can’t do now that the 2 year old has peaced.

  • I can walk into the kitchen, open up all the cabinets, open the drawer full of knives and walk away. I can even yell at the top of my lungs THE DRAWER OF KNIVES IS OPEN AND NO ONE IS WATCHING! SHARP THINGS ARE EVERYWHERE!
  • I can freely eat cookies at 11am, 1pm, 4pm, and 8pm without sharing. Also without hiding. Also in my bed. Also on the toilet.
  • I can shower. Like during waking hours. And then if I feel like it, I can put eyeshadow on without someone seriously trying to convince me that it’s actually not eyeshadow, but paint for coloring books and maybe the wall.
  • I can pull into my driveway and open my garage for easy house access and walk directly into my house immediately upon arrival. The opposing scenario is this: TOYS MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY PLAY TOYS. TOYS TOYS. NO INSIDE. TOYS. NO LUNCH. NO FEED RUBY. TOYS.  (the damn toys are in the garage in case you didn’t put that together)
  • I can go to the mall as I please during waking hours and not Jim’s Bouncy Run Around Be Crazy Play Land to get out energy, ensuring long toddler naps. In fact, I can just stare at the wall and not move at all.
  • OR I CAN JUST SLEEP.
  • I can walk up and down the stairs, holding things in my hands. I do not in fact need any free baby gate opening or closing hands. BECAUSE I DON’T NEED BABY GATES. Swing wide, sweet baby gates. Swing wide and free.
  • I can choose an outfit based on pure style and awesomeness and not based on how easily ketchup and yogurt stains will be removed from the fabric.
  • I can take 56 minutes deciding on that outfit if I so choose to.
  • I can watch TV during waking hours. That TV program can include vampires, nudity, and the words shit and asshole. And I have no idea what project Bob the Builder is building.
  • Similarly I do not have to watch on tv any cats in hats or any mentally disturbed men in yellow who regularly talk to monkeys.
  • I can bring a purse with me that isn’t the size of New Mexico and waterproof. I don’t have anyone digging through it for snacks. I can put it on the floor if I want. I can put makeup in it. I do not have 5 trucks and a train in it.
  • There are currently no sticks or rocks in my car.
  • And yes, I can poop in private.

PRIVATE. I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT IN PRIVATE.

I want to be clear about something, I haven’t been able to do any of these things in 2 years. G is a wonderful nut of a child and was a very colicky baby. I couldn’t put him down for a second. I was overwhelmed as a new mom and freaked out. Ruby is chill and goes with the flow. And for that reason, I’m relaxed. I literally feel like I’m on vacation.

I remember blogging about how hard motherhood was when I had G. I remember a specific comment that said “dude, what are you complaining about? You have 1 child.” But now that I have Ruby? I’d like to say F you to that commenter. ALL BABIES ARE NOT CREATED EQUAL. Yes 1 baby in general is pretty easy. But 1 G equals 7 regular babies. I really didn’t fully know how stressed I was until this very moment.

Moms, if you have a toddler and a baby, I fully recommend a toddler vacation. Get the kid to the grandparents for a week. It will change you.

Moms, stand on your couch and hold your cookie high. Shout to the world FREEDOM. I AM FREE.

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If you need me, I’ll be watching Vampire Diaries on really loud while sharpening my knives.

xoxo

MODG

 

____________

In honor of mom freedom, this post is brought to you by Laura Prell Massage Therapy. This one is for my local moms. If you’re toddler isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, get your ass to get a massage. It’s sort of weird getting a massage at a place you don’t know about for the first time. You don’t know where those hands have been and you are not so sure about being naked around them. I’m here to give you a solid thumbs up for Laura. She’s local to downtown Phoenixville, PA and is super affordable. Highly recommend.

Now go get a massage. Bring the cookie.

 

 

B and others who know me in real life say that I overshare. Duh B and others. Hi, I…

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babies, hippie stuff, Mom Stuff, You think you know but you have no idea

Ruby vs. The Sleep. One has come out on top.

May 8, 2013

Maybe I should always include a giveaway in my controversial posts. Maybe I should also specifically instruct everyone to not be an asshole in the comments regularly. I say this because ALL 328 comments left on the last post were supportive, positive and encouraging. Thank you for that.

Let’s get something clear people, whether a mom formula feeds, breast feeds, co-sleeps, cries it out, feeds solids at 4 months or 14 months, every one of those moms really thinks they are doing the best thing for their kid. And not like, sort of best thing for their kid but secretly good for mom too. No really like, best thing for their kid.

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The mom who feeds their kids solids early may think that their kid will sleep better and be a happier  healthier baby who will meet milestones faster. The mom who feeds formula may have a baby who gets eczema and diarrhea from breast milk and they just want their baby better. And the mom who cries it out probably just wants their baby to sleep better and this solution was the last straw. NOT the first option. I’m guessing that mom, me included, rocked their baby 4 thousand times, replaced paci’s 7070 times, co-slept and straight up held the child for hours on end. But something had to give. Because maybe that mom has a toddler too who needs their mom. And that baby just needs to sleep.

Do I sound extra explainy? I know. That’s because I got a lot of flack for the last post. Not from you guys who read, and know me. I’ll just leave it at that. But it was brutal and not fair.

So this is another PSA to remind us all (myself included) to NOT JUDGE MOMS. I’m looking at you hippies.

There is a new breed of hippie out there. Not the peace and love ones but one I’ll call the hippie snob. The hippie who turns up their nose at formula moms or cry it out moms and say things like…oh this makes my heart hurt (or much much worse). Because they think the rest of us just don’t know any better. And it reeks of judgey.

As a card carrying scoby growing, kombucha drinking, muscle tested hippie, I’m ashamed of this group. It’s giving us all a bad name. Because you can be a hippie mom and have to make tough choices. And this is ok. Because every single one of us IS TRYING TO DO THE BEST THING FOR OUR KIDS. So worry about you and your kids and not mine and not hers or hers or HERS.

With that being said, here’s what’s been going on in the MODG house.

Night 1: Nursed Ruby to very very sleepy, put her in the crib without paci. She cried. A lot. I went in at 5 minutes “it’s ok Ruby, I’m here in the next room, you’re doing so great. I’m so proud of you. Close your eyes and rest. I love you”. Then again in 5 minutes. Then again in 10 minutes. And then she was asleep.

Naps the next day we didn’t do any crying. My sleep lady and I didn’t think it was fair to throw her all in at once and we wanted her to be well rested for the sleep learning at night. So I rocked, and paci’d and nursed.  All crap naps all day.

**This is when I got the flack for my last post and as MUCH as I wanted to brush it off. It stuck with me. Because no mom who ever hears their child cry thinks “this is awesome!”. No, it’s hard. But change in general is hard. So when people are telling me I’m a horrible mother, it’s creeping in. And for that reason…night 2 happened.

Night 2: Nursed to drowsy, put her in the crib. She cries. I gave her the paci. I caved with the criticism ringing in my ears. She went to sleep. Now you may think: well all that matters is that she’s sleeping right? No the point is for her to learn to self soothe. And when that paci falls out, who is going to be there at 1am 2am 3am 4am 5am 6am to put it back? You? Oh ok, cool.

Naps the next day status quo. Crap.

Night 3: I got a virtual kick in the ass from my sleep lady who told me the WORST thing I can do is not send a consistent message. It’s confusing to a baby why sometimes they get the paci and sometimes they don’t. She’s totally right and I want this to be as easy on her as possible. No paci. Checked in 5 minutes, another 5. Asleep.

Naps still a bitch

Night 4: Nursed, no paci and NO CRYING. SHE IS HAPPY IN HER CRIB. SHE IS BABBLING. SHE IS ASLEEP IN 5 MINUTES. SHE SELF SOOTHED. You guys, she did it.

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I want to point out that I included 2 dream feeds throughout each night and if she woke up any more times, I went in and nursed her. The purpose of the crying was just to get her to learn how to sleep on her own. Ruby’s weight hasn’t been where is should be so it’s important that she gets lots of night milk too, which I’m sort of whatever fine with.

But that my friends, is what cry it out can look like. It’s not always putting baby in a room and walking away. In my opinion, it’s the most gentle way of teaching a baby about sleep.

Next we need to tackle naps. We are still cat nappers. And it’s GD torture. And the poor little thing is so tired by the end of the day.

So let’s recap people.

Don’t judge a mom by her cover. Judge her by her mom jeans.

Just kidding.

sort of.

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And the winner of the super duper mother’s day necklace from Adorn 512 is from a commenter who was so supportive and so positive and so thoughtful in her comment, that it really helped me through a difficult week. And for that reason, she is the winner of the necklace. She is more than deserving. Jaime, email me at modgblog at gmail dot com.

Jaime May 4, 2013 at 2:41 pm
It seems like you might need some encouragement from someone who has a bit of distance from this issue, because that is all I have to offer, but I can’t give you any sleep back.
My kids are 14 (boy) and 16 (girl). They are right this minute on a “bro-date” going to lunch and comic book stores for free comic day while I am home sick. They hang out all the time and set aside time for each other on purpose. I have been down the road you are on and I have to tell you to stick with it.
It doesn’t seem like it right this minute, but what you are trying to teach your kids is to be self-reliant. This is the very beginning of that journey. Get your kid to learn she won’t die if she goes to sleep by herself. The other thing that happens completely by accident at the exact same time is: you learn your kid can sleep by herself without you and no one will die.
These kinds of things are going to keep coming up and you’ll have to keep deciding when the right time is. When my daughter turned 16 she wasn’t quite ready to drive our car, which is a stick shift, alone. We talked. We agreed. We kept working at it. Then one day, I handed her the keys and asked her to use all she has learned and do her best to be safe and responsible. She wasn’t all the way ready – she never will be – and neither will I, but there is a day you have to say you’ve gotten everything I can show you and now it is time.
My daughter is going to college in a year. While a part of me thinks that I’d love for her to be useless without me so I could always be there for everything, what I really want to do is send a confident, smart, lovely girl into the world and hope she can rely on herself because I showed her that she can.
So, ditch the pacifier, bungee your boobs down if you have to, get earplugs and get started. You have to commit and not look back and remember the goal is about her. She will only cry louder and longer if you cave in. This isn’t about convenience or cruelty and everyone will benefit from it. Keep up the good fight.

 

Sleepy baby love,

MODG

 

Maybe I should always include a giveaway in my controversial posts. Maybe I should also specifically instruct everyone to…

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