isupportredfridays_edited-1 Join me by wearing red on red shirt Friday! Pray for my brother-in-law's safe return as well as the rest of our troops!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

March Super MOM of the MONTH!

It's easy to get caught up in the daily life of growing toddlerhood with an almost 5 year old and a very energetic 3 year old, so much so that it's easy to forget the olden days when they were teeny tiny and even, when there was just one and he was teeny tiny.

I started reading a blog a little while back of a mom-to-be recently turned "new mommy" and I read her tales of new motherhood and it takes me back to that place.

A place where providing even just the basics for your baby, like the millions of feedings, was complicated but also a place where there was so much softness and sweetness.

Her blog reminds me of those days, the days where you'd rejoice over each ounce your baby gained, over each ounce of milk pumped or fed, where there was struggle and choices over whether to nurse or whether to stop and there was struggle with how to nurse and how to stop and there was chafing and cracking and bleeding of your unmentionable parts and a little bit of extra leftover from being pregnant for what felt like 100 years.

And then the gear.

All the gear.

The strollers, the diaper bags, the bottles, the nipples, the breast pads, the breast pump and all of its tubing and parts heretowith, the Lanisoh, the ridiculous bras in every shape, the diaper genie and its awful inevitable stench, the diapers, the wipes, the Bjorn, the baby sling, granny panties, binkies, pack n play, swings, bouncy seats, bassinets, monitors, bottle warmers, etc etc etc etc ETC!

The baby.

Right after a bath, all dried and lotioned and in his little sleepsack, swaddled and sleeping, so sweet and delicious.

Then screaming.

Then soothed and fed and rocked and sung to and sweet and delicious once more.

Then poop and even moreso the "blowout" poop requiring the outfit change (and another bath.)

All of which you become immune to and even sort of secretly think is cute even though you are totally grossed out by other kids' poop.

The smiles.

Ohhh that toothless gummy grin. How I loved it so.

Tiny bald little heads with peach fuzzies so soft. I could rub and sniff that little baby's head all day.

Barely squeezing in time for a shower which really could make or break the day.

Sleepless nights. I never really got the hang of those.

Leakage.

Pictures.

Snuggles.

As hard as it was, I loved that time so so much.

And I love reading through the early momness of my bloggy friend, Bug's Mom, over at "My Life With Bug."

Bug's Mom wears a cape every single day.

One post in particular that made me cry out loud was in the beginning where she talked about her struggles with breastfeeding. How she'd found comfort and support from her mother while she cried and sought help from lactation consultants to support groups to figure this thing out.

Nursing is "supposed" to be so easy but sometimes it just plain isn't and when it isn't, it could be heartbreaking and heartwrenching and even the decision to give up is heartwrenching. It took weeks before my second son figured it out, even weeks after I went to the front desk of the hospital all post-partumy and crying, demanding to see a lactation consultant NOW because I needed HELP! One of the hardest times in my life!

I admire Bug's Mom because somehow she stuck it out and bam. 4 (long) weeks later, success.

Honestly, Bug's Mom would wear a cape whether she nursed or not in my book, because working through that decision alone takes courage and strength and undoubtedly comes with tears and crazy amounts of feelings.

Bug's Mom, you wear a cape, today and every day.

I salute you! And new mommies everywhere!

Here's your button!
Supermom_edited-1

This is not an easy job but you do it with such grace. One handed breakfasts and all.

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