Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Nasty Dragons or just my kids? Which would you rather have for a day?

Today I was the first day since becoming a nursing mother I have ever wished that I was a formula feeder.  Which made me a bit queasy.

Now before all you parents out there who are formula feeders get all up in my business, let it be known that I totally support formula feeders!  If it is what works best for your family then it is obviously the best choice!

Now, enough about you, let’s get back to me.

I love nursing. The bonding time with my girly truly is special. And I feel a bit smug over Ben that he doesn’t get that time.  So why did I hate it today you ask?

Well let me describe the last three days. That’s right 3 DAYS! 

Step 1: Make/eat breakfast while listening to Aubrey whine that she only wants ‘orgrits’ with the background medley sounds of Elise screeching that I stepped out of her sight.
Step 2: Get dressed. Simple enough, right? WRONG!  This is where we will insert the music of Aubrey wailing about that I did not put her in a Pink Dress. 
Step 3:  Look longingly at the wall and consider slowly banging my own head against it.

Banishing the Nasty Dragons

Step 4: Let’s try and get out of the house surely that will help.  WRONG O again!  The whining from Aubrey at least stops at this point. Instead she turns into an Academy award-winning actress. She puts on a good show for the public, spinning dance moves, singing, telling great expressive stories about towers, princesses and Nasty Dragons!  Literally, and I do not exaggerate, the second the public is out of sight the whining and crying starts again.
Step 5:  Make supper. By now Elise is in full on screech owl mode. If I step out of sight or am not touching her she screams as though she is being hurt. Great huge sobs. With giant alligator tears that would usually stop me in my tracks and initiate snuggle time.  That swiftly goes out the door the second you have two children and they are both in full on terrorize mode!
Step 6: Eat said supper.  This should be a peaceful time, one where Ben and I enjoy a glass of wine chitchat and laugh merrily throwing our heads back in joy.  So wrong, so very wrong.  This is the time Ben starts trying every bribe tactic with Aubs (who normally is a great eater) to eat anything on her plate. Usually the only thing that finally works is him motioning to take the food off her plate, which makes her grab it and he replies all affronted “Aubs that is MY food!”
Step 7: Bath time. Screeching, screaming, yelling, laughing, crying, tears, screeching, hold your breath kinda crying, bath done.
Step 8: Bedtime. This actually goes fairly easily. Likely because they are both exhausted from literally never ceasing the crying and whining all day long. I seriously mean they do it all day long!
Step 9: Midnight. This is when the bedtime thing goes terribly awry. Aubs freaks out and insists on coming to bed with me. No big deal I don’t mind snuggling her. But the last three days has been torture. She literally is whining and crying in her sleep. I mean it She has her eyes closed and heavily breathing and still whines and moans and complains, just long enough to wake Elise up.  And funny enough the minute Elise is awake Aubs is asleep. I lay Elise down and we cycle through this dreamland until we start over at Step 1!

So nursing.

Yeah today I wanted to hand over both the girls to Ben and leave for the day. Or even just the evening. But I exclusively nurse. Which means I am tied to the Screech Owl for another 5 months. I know many of you are thinking, “just give her a bottle!”  And a sane person would. But if you kindly look to your right at my bio you will see I have never claimed to be sane, not once. 


  1. If I looked that cute as a princess, I would spend all day banishing nasty dragons too!

  2. Sane is boring anyway. I just found your blog from the bump. I'm having a rough day and one of those "why do I EBF?" moments. Bleh

  3. Hey Melissa, thanks for the comment! I hate those days. It's even worse when you have had no sleep to have at least half a chance at being sane!