sueeeus

Hello there, Mister Squishy Pants.  Or is it Mister Stinky Pants?  It’s safe to say that if you are Mister Squishy Pants, then you are most definitely Mister Stinky Pants.  And vice versa.  Not that anybody’s complaining.  We like to know that all systems are go, yes we do.  So we don’t mind.  We don’t mind one bit.  And we try hard not to take these things for granted any more.  Now that we know about that pesky little vertebrae that we hope is well on its way to behaving and filling in properly.

You are growing and learning by leaps and bounds now!  In the last few weeks you’ve sprouted more teeth.  I see three, and several more just lurking beneath the surface.  And you’re such a giggle box!  Some babies are miserable when teething, but not you!  You giggle and shriek and squirm and kick.  You are so full of life, my beautiful boy.

You especially love it when I hold you under your armpits and swing you like a pendulum.  Tick Tock!  You giggle and kick the air and squirm and shriek and your smile goes from forever to forever.  You are contagious, and you make me feel so good.

You are an expert at rolling over and spinning circles, and you’ve just figured out how to move forward, instead of only backwards.  Oh boy.  You go straight for the baskets of DVDs.  Because you know you’re not supposed to.  And you press the red button on the toy dinosaur to make him roar.  How can you be so smart?!  You’re a genius!

You love your turquoise blue blankie, too.  You know which one it is, and you grab it and pull it over your head when you want to go to sleep.  I always pull it back, because I don’t like you to cover your face.  But I have to check on you often, because you are a stubborn little guy, and pull it right back over your face.

Finally, you wake only once in the night for another bottle, and finally you take more than four ounces!  So it’s only 5 or 6, but it keeps you satisfied for longer, and that means I get to sleep a teensy bit more, and for that, I am so very happy!  No shaking your bottle and splashing your milk all over your head, though.  You’re not allowed to play with your milk.  Nope, not allowed.

I’m glad you like your binky.  I know it may not be the best thing, but I prefer to keep that in your mouth while you’re exploring, because I’d rather you NOT put other things in your mouth that you find during your adventures.  Your brother has a tendency to leave a trail, similar to the wake of a tornado, so for everyone’s safety, the binky is best.  What?  You think I want to spend every waking moment following your brother with a broom or a vacuum?  I thought I would have been able to teach him to clean up after himself by now, but he’s very head strong.  Like his dad.  And so are you.  I can only imagine what’s in store.

Soon you will learn to sit yourself from a stand or a crawl.  You are already trying.  You might not be happy when that happens, because I will keep putting you back on your tummy.  That’s what I’m going to do.   Just so you know.  We’re going to give that pesky little vertebrae every chance we can to fill out the way it should.  You might thank me when you’re 40.  Maybe.

You have the look of a deep thinker, too.  You are so different from your brother, the boisterous bull in a china shop boy.  You are boisterous, but in a different way.  There’s something about you, my LB.   Something about you.  And I, I am smitten, over and over again.  First with your brother — I didn’t think I could be any more smitten, and then you came along and I’m smitten all that much more.

Nine months!  Happy Nine Months, my beautiful boy!

I have the weaning blues.

LB isn’t calling the shots here. It’s all on me, since I pump exclusively. Something about dropping supply just gets to me. Maybe it’s because of how hard I work to maintain supply, it seems so contrary to intentionally reduce it. Part of me wants to be done, and to have that part of my life back, but part of me doesn’t want to let go. It’s all wrapped up in ‘this is my last baby, this is the last time I will ever get to do this’. I suppose that’s the source of the blues — I won’t be down this path again and it’s so hard and sad to close this door. I’m currently at 3x/day now, and working on dropping to 2x.  I have only managed to stretch to 9.5 hours, but yesterday hit a new low of 21 ounces, down from over 40, and with that, the blues hit me hard.

In a way, I’m sort of addicted to pumping now and keep calculating in my head how I can keep things going if I just stick to 2x, once I get there, or even 1x. But then, if the supply is so low by then, part of me says why even bother trying to keep at it and why not just get my freedom back.

I EP’ed for a full year with BB, and never had these blues.   Maybe because I was hoping to have more kids, and/or maybe because I never did make enough to give him 100%. I pumped 75% and supplemented with formula 25%, and when I decided to wean at the one year mark, it was easy as cake to dry up and be done. No emotional issues whatsoever (other than the obsession of milk production consuming my life for an entire year; I suppose if I went through my archives, they may tell a different story). This time is so different for me. I’m 44 now, have two beautiful boys, and the baby window is closed. If I’d been able to have kids earlier in life, I might have tried for 3 or 4, but as it turns out, it was a miracle for me to get what I got. I am eternally grateful and blessed for the opportunity to be a mother.

Anyhow, it’s probably normal to get the weaning blues. Hormones are undoubtedly shifting, and there’s the whole letting go thing.

I have a smokin’ hot new hairdo, though, and that makes me feel happy.  It’s the short choppy number again.  I really like short, these last several years.

The Mac photo booth is a lot of fun, too.

I prefer PC to Mac, for the most part.  If I were only going to play with Photo Booth, surf the web, and sync my iTouch, then I’d use the Mac — it handles those things nicely.  But I like my PC better for photo editing and general file keeping.  So I hop back and forth between both worlds, which for me is kind of annoying.  I’m the girl who likes to stay put, after all.

blahblahblah

And if I quit pumping, I won’t be playing with Photo Booth at midnight any more.  Or Facebook, for that matter.  Or Scrabble.  Or WordTwist.  Or Scramble.  Or Pathwords.  (I’m easily addicted to word games.)  The plus side is that I may actually be getting some more SLEEP!  I might even get my libido back.

Did I say that out loud?

I sure hope LB likes the milk I have stored in the freezer.