Weaning Woes

I am weaning my sweet Nico. He is 10 1/2 months old now and, according to our pediatrician, can have cow's milk. I just wanted to avoid the whole formula thing b/c I think formula smells gross (there's something about the smell of it that makes me gag), and each time I gave Nico formula his poop turned black and he was super constipated. But the time has come.

Let me say that I am ready to wean. One, I am NOT going to pump breastmilk in the disgusting bathroom of our teacher's lounge ever again. I had to do it for six months with each kid, and it was gross. Two, I am very ready to have my body fully back. I have been pregnant or breastfeeding since February 2006 (this includes my miscarriage) with only two 3 month breaks; I am ready to be done. Lastly, Nico won't really nurse during the day anymore. As much as breasts are much easier to tote around than milk and bottles, he is simply not getting any milk from me during the day b/c he's too interested to everyone else and moving. Did I mention he finally started crawling last week? Yep. The boy is inchworming at lightening speed.

I am gradually stopping pumping. Last week I stopped the 11pm pump. This week I stopped one daytime pump. Next week I'm going to try not to pump during the day. This is all pretty painful. My breasts get full (which is just ironic b/c I was barely producing any milk--why do they feel so full?), it feels like I can't breathe, if Alexandra or Nico bump one of my breasts I want to cry, and I'm depressed. Yep, depressed.

I'm not depressed b/c I'm weaning or that Nico is growing up. I love that baby boy so much and I will miss the intimacy of nursing, but he is such a hugger that I think he'll always cuddle with me. Also, I'm so excited to see him develop into a toddler, then a boy. But I am literally physiologically depressed. My hormones are going bonkers, my thicker, curly hair is all falling out (Cathleen--it's like you said!), and I feel crampy and period-y (Haven't had my period in 19 months--glorious). I'm melancholy for no reason. I'm whiny. I'm bitchy. I'm just fun in female form.

Thank god for the internet to justify my insanity. This is from kellymom.com, the best breastfeeding website in the world:

It's not unusual to feel tearful, sad or mildly depressed after weaning; some moms also experience mood swings. These feelings are usually short-term and should go away in a few weeks. This is caused, in part, by hormonal changes. One of the changes that occurs with weaning is a drop in prolactin levels. Prolactin, the hormone that stimulates milk production, also brings with it a feeling of well-being, calmness and relaxation. The faster the weaning process the more abrupt the shift in hormone levels, and the more likely that you will experience adverse effects.

So please excuse any crazy, blue, or nasty blog posts--it's my hormones. I'm having weaning woes.

(Photo of Alexandra nursing tiny baby right when Nico came home. I wonder if she'll continue to nurse her babies when I'm done?)

No (more) Exit

When I was pregnant with Nico, Alexandra thrilled at pulling me out of bed in the morning. She would approach the side of the bed, inform me that it was time to get up,and I'd moan "Oh, I need help, can you pull me out of bed?" and she'd giggle and grab my hand, helping (?) me hoist my enormousness out of bed. It was supercute.

She still comes in to wake me, and today I asked her to pull me out of bed. I said, "Remember when Nico was in my belly and you would pull me up out of bed?" to which she replied, "Nico was in your belly, but he came out. I was in your belly, too, and I came out. Now EVERYONE (emphasis here) is out of mommy's belly!"

As much as her statement makes my belly sound like a clown car, how true she is. Adam's scheduled for vasectomy on August 31st. Nobody else is exiting this body. Everyone is out of my belly.

An Open Letter...

...to everyone who tells me that I wouldn't be so broke if I didn't live in NYC.

Hi Guys,
Let me preface this by saying that I realize I have been very whiny lately about our finances (or lack thereof). Both Adam and I are continuously appalled that we have such a ridiculous amount of education, are both firmly established in our respective professions, make decent salaries compared to the rest of the nation/world (although they seem somewhat paltry compared to our peers here in the City), and we are broke broke broke. And I'm not talking broke like, "Man, think we're going to have to skip the Opera this year." I'm talking broke like need to budget to buy Adam a new pair of Camper shoes. Yep. But, our biggest monthly expense is daycare, so we take solace in the fact that this financial crisis is finite. Bring on the public schools, baby.

But I am here to clarify the fallibility of everyone's asinine idea that if we left our glorious City we would suddenly have a surplus of money. Let me explain why you are wrong, so you can all stop suggesting that we relocate to NC, CT, Philly, etc.

1. We would have to buy TWO CARS and then insure TWO CARS. We have no car payments now, no car insurance. Yes, renting is a killer when we have to do it, but it's nothing compared to car payments/insurance. Nothing. And multiply that by two. That would be CRAZY.

2. Our rent is wicked cheap here. Believe it or not, our rent is at least $500 less than most of our friends. We live in an awesome neighborhood, our apt is small but the layout is good and it works for now, and if we were to go elsewhere there is NO WAY we'd have rent and/or a mortgage this cheap. So nix that idea.

3. Yes, childcare might be cheaper. I'll give you that. Right now we pay $2600/month for full-time (40 hours/week) childcare for both kids, Nico's childcare includes his food/milk for the day and music class once a week. Alexandra's childcare does not include food, but she gets yoga class, music class, and Spanish and Italian classes very week. Some say if we moved near family they could watch the kids. Nah. Neither family would take on full-time daycare of our kids, and I can't blame them--it's beyond exhausting. I can barely do it, why would I expect someone twice my age to?

And, adding this later here, do y'all know how much teachers make in the Southern states? JACKSH*T. So if I were to move South and teach, my salary would be less than half of what it is now. With no union. No thank you. Don't even mention academic jobs. There aren't any!

4. Our college loan payments, a nice chunk of our income each month, would not disappear if we left New York. Those suckers will follow us forever until 2017. Again, a finite expense--only 7 more years to go!

So all of you who keep hinting or demanding that our financial struggles are because we live in NYC, you are wrong. They are due to childcare costs and college loans, two variables we can't change right now. Believe me. Adam and I have examined this closely. Multiple times. We appreciate your concern, but your solution is not a solution. And, honestly, why would we chose to be broke anywhere else but in the greatest city in our country?

Love, Lori

(ps: I imagine this dollar sign is saying, "See you--a bit--in two years when Alexandra goes to kindergarten, and then a bit more in two more years when Nico goes to kindergarten, and then in full in 2017 when you've paid off those graduate degrees!")

Mini Me

I have been getting lots of comments lately that Nico looks like me. I can't explain how happy that makes me. After having Alexandra, who is a mini-Adam, it is strangely justifying to have a child who resembles me. A validation of sorts.

But while Nico is my doppelganger in male form, Alexandra is me in spirit. My mom tells anyone that'll listen the story of me exerting my independence right before kindergarten started. My mom had arranged for a car pool, and when she told me about it I told her, "No, I'm going to walk to school with the big kids. I am going to meet them and walk." And, sure enough, I did. I have never taken a car pool to school in my life. I always walked and arranged my own transportation.

Alexandra is currently obsessed with crossing the street without holding our hands. Of course, there's no way in Hades that is happening anytime soon, but she is obsessed with it. It comes up daily. Right now she's riding her new scooter (thanks grandma and grandpa!) to daycare daily. When we cross the street on the walk home, I use one hand to push Nico's stroller, one hand to hold one handle of the scooter, and she holds the other scooter handle (the scooter in between us). She thinks she is all grown doing this and beams at me while we inch across the crosswalk.

Last Friday, as we shared a mango Italian ice, she said:

"If I eat all this icee, I'll grow up and be big and I can cross the street all by myself. And I'll walk to daycare all by myself. And then, I'll go home from daycare all by myself and I'll pick up Nico and bring him home."

I just had to look at her and smile. Miss Independent already.

And, oh how I wish she could just stroll home from daycare AND grab Nico on the way!

NYC sometimes sucks

There are some things in this city that just plain suck. Example A: the NYC Office of Vital Records.

There were TWO mistakes on Nico's birth certificate. They listed my birth city as Washington, CA (instead of Washington, DC) and they made Adam's birth year 1974 when it's 1975 (yep, he's a year younger than me. meow!). Not big things, but I figured they needed to be corrected. We sent in the corrections forms in October. They came back b/c Adam had not signed the photocopy of his driver's license. Ugh. Sent them back in January. Still NO birth certificate.

So, I decided to get on it this summer. Called July 1st. Said they'd call back after looking into it. Of course, that didn't happen. Called yesterday. Estimated wait time was 48 minutes. Eff that. Called this morning. Estimated wait time 11 minutes. Got a woman on the line, she put me on hold for about 4 minutes after I told her my situation, and then she hung up on me! Dammit! Just called back. Estimated wait time is now 60 minutes. Mother effers.

Nico has not had a birth certificate since he was born. We have a xeroxed copy of his original, but that a cup of coffee won't get you anything. Guess I'll have to go down there and stand in line. Cheese is Christ.

Found this link appropriate today. I'm going to be sure to take a photo of the Dept of Vital Records with my long middle finger in front of it when my sorry self spends a day in line there.

And seriously, cabbies, could you NOT go to BP at this particular moment in history, please?

Bummed

Just found out that the playground that we go to about 5 times a week both to play and for our Farmer's Market (JJ Byrne Playground on 5th Ave) will be under construction from September 2010 until Spring 2012. That. Totally. Blows.

Add that to the public library that's across the street from us that closed in Fall of 2009 and will be closed for two years.

I know both these places need to be renovated, but for the love of my sanity do you have to close both at the same freakin' time? And can't you wait until my kids are no longer so small and go to daycare right en route to the playground? Seriously, once JJ Byrne will reopen exactly when Nico no longer goes to daycare on 5th Ave. Perfect.

Sooooooooooooooooo bummed. If our rent wasn't so ridiculously reasonable I'd seriously consider moving. Ugh.

The Boxing Ring of Motherhood

Motherhood is like boxing, and the mom is the one always getting beat up on. Now I'm not talking about the metaphorical boxing that pregnancy and nursing have on one's body, like the sagging boobs, broken vaginas, and abs that simply refuse to resume their original form. I am talking LITERAL blood and stitches and broken bones, etc.

This first occurred to me at the end of Alexandra's nursing, when she was almost one year old, when one morning while nursing her in bed she stood up and then fell over like a giant tree, her skull coming into direct contact with the bridge of my nose. For those who know me, my nose was broken when I was six-ish by my dad when he threw a softball and my uncoordinated self (or was it is lack of athleticism?) caught it with my nose. Hence the huge a** hump on my already sizable schnoz. Never fixed. So when Alexandra came falling down on me, after the stars cleared and the throbbing in my head slightly subsided, I fantasized of my long overdue nose job but I'm too chicken. I had two lightly blackened eyes after her fall and had to ice my nose all day at work.

Today, again, she struck. I took her to the playground to frolic in the fountain and she was so happy. The mist was blowing off the fountain, she ran over to hug me, I leaned down to kiss her and BAM! She jumped up. My entire lip split open, my eyes welled over with tears, I grabbed my mouth fearing it was going to gush blood (it didn't gush, but did bleed quite a bit) and a super nice dad behind me offered me his frozen water bottle saying, "That sucks...." OUCH. Now I have a half-inch split on the inside of my lip where my teeth cut it in half and my outer lip is pretty swollen on the left size, making me look like a lip plumping gone bad. But it's healing fast. Like strange vampire fast. Go figure.

Motherhood is not for wimps, I tell ya.

(Took a pix of my lip but it was too gross to post)