Monday, February 21, 2011

Similiac is Whack

One of the most annoying questions that the Wifey receives is "are you still breastfeeding?" But it's not the question itself that is annoying, it's the way  it is asked that annoys me. The question about breastfeeding gets asked as if the Wifey was Frodo Baggins and the villagers were still in disbelief that a hobbit was on a quest across Middle Earth to destroy the ring. It's as if breastfeeding is the impossible, daunting task in which only the chosen one can see it through.

It just seems like nowadays babies and formula go hand in hand. Even hospitals send you home with Similac as a parting gift. I never knew the benefits for babies drinking straight from the tap but it really does all make sense.

The sake of convenience has paved a nice road for the ease of synthetics. But I just don't see how formula feeding is easier than breastfeeding. You know how motor oil companies have those commercials where they take engines running conventional motor oil and pit them against ones that are wearing synthetic? They should do that with breastfeeding. With formula you have to bring out the bottle, the formula, the water, and the measuring cup. Then you have to measure the powder, then pour it in the bottle, and then shake it and then the baby can finally eat. But with a breastfeeding mother, all she has to do is three simple steps:

1) whip boob out
2) smash baby face to boob
3) return boob

Of course she should always make sure there aren't any pervs who are watching. I will be honest, I still get uncomfortable when the Wifey breastfeeds in public. If there is a designated nursing area, I usually prefer to go in there but I won't object if she has to do it in the open. The Baby needs to eat and I will take that over a screaming baby any day of the week.

And there are even times that the Baby is feeding right next to me and I don't even realize it. Granted, I am probably deeply immersed in some Call of Duty and I will glance over and say, "she's done eating already?" and then I go back to demonstrating my dominance over 14 year old nerds who's head would explode if they saw a breast in real life.

But now as the Baby's appetite has expanded to solid foods, her desire for the milk has gone down. I predict she will be 95% weened off before her first birthday. That has always been the target date for the Wifey but I can tell deep down inside that she doesn't want to lose that. There is a bond that is formed between the mother and child. Even though it only lasts a few minutes, there is an incredibly strong connection. I can shove Oreos in the Baby's mouth all day long and have some type of bond but we all know Oreos are better with milk.

If there is anything about raising a child that the Wifey is adamant about, it's about breastfeeding. She is passionate. If there was a fantasy football league for breastfeeding, she would be in 10 leagues and kick ass in all of them. She would be that guy. She even has friends - some she has never met before in real life, just via internet - that solicit advice from her. I've even been told that she is their savior. I sometimes think of my wife as a self appointed authority of breastfeeding. She has formed a gang of breastfeeding women (lactivists is what they liked to be called, crazy women) and she is their leader. The Bloods, Crips, and the Milks.

Breastfeeding isn't easy. And I understand that are circumstances that a mother can't do it. But then there are those who refuse to try. It's a frustrating thing to do; an arduous task that just never ends when the baby is first born. There was a time that I yelled at the Wifey and suggested she stop and just do formula. She gave me a look and that was the last I mentioned that alternative.

But the best thing about breastfeeding is I don't have to get off the couch to get a bottle.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Cat is Away

My dad came into town this weekend so the Wifey and the Baby figured it would be a perfect time to hop on a plane and go to Boston. I'm probably the only one in the family who still talks to my dad on a regular basis (he lives in Florida) even though I only call once a week. It's not too bad. He usually forgets everything I told him the week before so I just repeat the same story to him for a few months and he likes to tell me the same stories. It's kinda like Groundhog Day, except with broken English and an Asian accent.

This is only the second time that I have been away from the family - the first was when the Baby was only a few months old. It's different now because I've really gotten to know her and just truly enjoy watching her learn new things. We're still working on teaching her new tricks so we can show her off at parties but it's the new motor skills or figuring out a toy that is the most fun to watch. We bought her a toy drum that she loves. She can't walk but she likes to stand up and slide the drum across the floor. She also has this creepy Winnie the Pooh walker toy that she just loves. It has a little mirror on it so she kisses it every time she sees it. But then we started playing with this one toy where you just press a button and an animal pops out. We sat together for about 45 minutes the other day as I pushed the button and she closed the animal that pops out.

In car rides, the Baby usually sings to us and she has a book that she thumbs through. But recently she has begun to randomly laugh and it lasts a few minutes. But then we'll start to laugh and then she laughs even more but its an obvious fake laughter but it sure is entertaining. She even looks back at us in her little mirror and smiles and then shyly turns her head.

But for now, they are in Boston enjoying great food and family and I get to listen to my dad on repeat.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Bittersweet

Well a few weeks ago, I had the fortunate/unfortunate dilemma of losing my job. It was unfortunate because it really put a damper on our financial situation but it was fortunate that I got to hang out with the Baby so much.

We had a nice routine of her yelling around 630AM, I go to her room to get her and she falls back asleep in the bed with me and we cuddle until about 830AM-900AM. From there she'll eat her two bananas and cereal and talk to me about nonsense. I then dig through all her clothes hoping to find something to match or face ridicule from the Wifey. But most of the time she just wears her pajamas all day like I do. We'll then take a small cat nap at noon for an hour or two and then wake up for more lunch and playtime.  We then make a small trip to the mailbox to check the mail and also see the neighborhood ducks. Then 3PM rolls around and she takes her extended nap with me until 6 or 7PM.

I've learned that she loves cuddling and she hates her feet being covered, whether it's with socks of a blanket. And when she sleeps, she sweats like a fat guy when she's too hot. Her favorite game is eating cheerios on the ground and she loves taking out all the clean clothes from the laundry basket. In fact, she loves removing everything out of boxes. And lastly, when the Wifey gets home, I no longer exist.

The Baby has become my best friend and now I have to go back to work. I will probably miss her first steps and she'll probably forget how much fun it is nap with me. And there is no way I can compete with the Wifey and her milk jugs. I guess I will just have to buy her things.

Finally, there is one thing that the Baby absolutely adores and it's a Sesame Street video of counting coins. The Baby will literally stop everything once she hears the music.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Quick Update

After a week of illness, a blood test, and a chest x-ray, it was determined that the Baby had pneumonia. The Wifey, using her superpowers of maternal instincts, figured it was pneumonia but the Baby hadn't shown any clear symptoms minus her cough. A little dosage of Amoxicillin and the Baby was back to normal in a couple of days.

And it was a world of difference from a sick baby and a healthy baby. When the Baby was sick, she would just snuggle up to us and put her head down. She refused to eat anything but the breast milk, and she slept for 90% of the day. She didn't smile, she didn't laugh and it was just hard for the Wifey and I because we just wanted the crazy happy baby we know. The telltale sign we had that the Baby was getting better was when she started heading for the window above our bed. Every morning when the Baby wakes up, she immediately makes a mad dash, climbing our bodies and the pillows to look out the window. And we knew she was back to normal when we saw her appetite had returned.

One of the most common things that people tell us is that the Baby is still so petite. And then after watching her eat, people tell us how amazing it is to see her eat so much food. She will eat two whole bananas, cereal, and a bottle of milk for breakfast. And for dinner she will eat an entire grilled chicken breast, vegetables, pasta, and apple sauce.

It's no surprise that the first word the Baby coherently uses is "more". She knows not to ask for more until all her food is gone, even though her cheeks would be stuffed with food. The Baby also does a little nod and a dance when she asks for more food as well. The Baby has gotten pretty good at saying "mom" and "dad" and knows who is who. But apparently the Baby is much too mature to say "mommy" or "dada", it's a distinct "mom" and "dad".

In other news, the Baby is inching closer to taking her first steps. She can go from sitting to standing on her own and just stands there yelling at us.

But for now, here are some pictures from when the Baby was sick. What a miserable little wreck.