This is so good. It's adapted from a recipe in Better Homes & Gardens, and today I just layered it like a lasagna because I forgot to heat up the tortillas and they were stiff and cracked. It was sooo good, and my kids loved it! (Which is super rare.)
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/2-1 chopped onion
3 good-sized garlic cloves
a few tbsp. EVOO
1 bell pepper, chopped
3 oz cream cheese, softened
1 tbsp. milk
a little bit of ground cumin
a couple handfuls of fresh spinach, chopped
corn tortillas
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 8-ounce carton of sour cream
1 cup milk
shredded "fiesta" cheese
salt and pepper to taste
Chop the chicken and toss with salt, pepper, and a tiny bit of cumin (a little goes a very long way), then cook over medium to medium-high heat along with the onion, garlic, and bell pepper.
Meanwhile, stir together the cream cheese and 1 tbsp milk with about a 1/4 tsp. cumin. Then add the chicken and veggies. For traditional enchiladas, warm the tortillas roll up about 3 tsp. of the filling mixture in each, and place seam down in a greased baking dish. For the layered kind, cut the tortillas in half and layer like a lasagna. Then, for the sauce, combine the soup, milk, and sour cream in a bowl and pour over the top. Cover the pan with foil and bake in a 350* oven for 30-35 minutes, then remove and cover the top with cheese, then return the pan to the oven to melt the cheese for a few minutes. You can serve with shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes on top, I bet that'd be really good.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Plan.
May 21--Em's last day of school.
May 22--Daddy flies in from Houston.
May 23-27--Pack up the POD and clean up the house.
May 28--Hop in the car and head to southern Indiana to visit my sister.
June 1--Head to Campbell.
June 2 (maybe 3)--Head to Texas.
June 15--AARON!!!
June 21--Head to Washington.
June 27--Arrive in Washington.
June 30--Our 9th anniversary.
July 3--Lilith Fair.
Wow, this summer's going to leave me exhausted.
May 22--Daddy flies in from Houston.
May 23-27--Pack up the POD and clean up the house.
May 28--Hop in the car and head to southern Indiana to visit my sister.
June 1--Head to Campbell.
June 2 (maybe 3)--Head to Texas.
June 15--AARON!!!
June 21--Head to Washington.
June 27--Arrive in Washington.
June 30--Our 9th anniversary.
July 3--Lilith Fair.
Wow, this summer's going to leave me exhausted.
Friday, April 16, 2010
My Walls are Bare and White.
Some people's home are lovely. Pretty colors on the walls. Picture frames full of their family's precious memories. Decorative plates hanging around, big initials of their last names behind the TV, centerpieces, candles, all kinds of pretty things. And every time I walk into the home of someone with a beautiful, cozy, homey home, I admire their pretty walls and pictures and candles, and wonder why in the world my home doesn't look this way? Now, anyone who knows me knows that housekeeping is not my strong suit, so maybe I should be more focused on getting the dirty clothes off the floor, but this blog is about my walls, not my floor.
I want pretty walls. I have spent my entire life renting, so maybe that has something to do with the white. The only time I remember painting was when I was pregnant with Emily. They would let you paint as long as you painted it back to white before you left. Her room was more of an alcove, and I didn't want it to be all pink. I tried a green, but Aaron said it looked like a hospital, so I picked blue. My parents and sister all helped us. We painted the whole thing blue, with big fluffy clouds, green grass, butterflies, bugs, and a big yellow sun. , I loved that room. It was beautiful, and everyone who loved my baby had contributed. We never did have to paint over it, because they decided to tear down the married student housing and no one would be renting after us. I remember the day I drove past and it had been torn down. I cried, and I tried digging through the rubble for a piece of the wall, but it was too deep. Maybe that's why I never put my heart into decorating again, because my little Betsy heart was so broken by my baby's room's destruction.
My mom never really decorated, either. The only thing I really remember hanging on the walls were these candle sconces. They were black wrought iron, with these little orange glass votive holders. I loved those things.
For spring break, I visited my friend Laura. Laura's home is beautiful! She has a big "P" on her wall behind her TV. She has end tables that match the TV stand. Her dining room is this lovely shade of green, and she has pictures everywhere; on the walls, on the tables, in the guest room. Her home is just lovely! She just has an eye for decorating. She can go to Hobby Lobby and randomly pick something out that will just go. I'm so jealous of that! I don't have the eye like she does. I'm so afraid of putting a bunch of stuff on my walls and having it be a big discordant mess. I was talking about this with my friend Tosha. We both talked about how we don't have that eye and we are jealous of those who do. But at least Tosha has some nice stuff on her walls! I have nothing, except the guidon that 5th Group gave Aaron when he left. It's great, I just need more.
I know we are moving in two months, but I figure now is as good a time to start this process as any. We are a military family. We move a lot; at least every few years. It's time to stop treating our homes as temporary, and time to make each place we live feel like what will be our home, for however long it is our home. And this is our home, for the next two months. It's time to make our home feel like a home.
I want pretty walls. I have spent my entire life renting, so maybe that has something to do with the white. The only time I remember painting was when I was pregnant with Emily. They would let you paint as long as you painted it back to white before you left. Her room was more of an alcove, and I didn't want it to be all pink. I tried a green, but Aaron said it looked like a hospital, so I picked blue. My parents and sister all helped us. We painted the whole thing blue, with big fluffy clouds, green grass, butterflies, bugs, and a big yellow sun. , I loved that room. It was beautiful, and everyone who loved my baby had contributed. We never did have to paint over it, because they decided to tear down the married student housing and no one would be renting after us. I remember the day I drove past and it had been torn down. I cried, and I tried digging through the rubble for a piece of the wall, but it was too deep. Maybe that's why I never put my heart into decorating again, because my little Betsy heart was so broken by my baby's room's destruction.
My mom never really decorated, either. The only thing I really remember hanging on the walls were these candle sconces. They were black wrought iron, with these little orange glass votive holders. I loved those things.
For spring break, I visited my friend Laura. Laura's home is beautiful! She has a big "P" on her wall behind her TV. She has end tables that match the TV stand. Her dining room is this lovely shade of green, and she has pictures everywhere; on the walls, on the tables, in the guest room. Her home is just lovely! She just has an eye for decorating. She can go to Hobby Lobby and randomly pick something out that will just go. I'm so jealous of that! I don't have the eye like she does. I'm so afraid of putting a bunch of stuff on my walls and having it be a big discordant mess. I was talking about this with my friend Tosha. We both talked about how we don't have that eye and we are jealous of those who do. But at least Tosha has some nice stuff on her walls! I have nothing, except the guidon that 5th Group gave Aaron when he left. It's great, I just need more.
I know we are moving in two months, but I figure now is as good a time to start this process as any. We are a military family. We move a lot; at least every few years. It's time to stop treating our homes as temporary, and time to make each place we live feel like what will be our home, for however long it is our home. And this is our home, for the next two months. It's time to make our home feel like a home.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Best Friends
When I was a little girl, my brother had a best friend. They had been best friends ever since we were all little children. They were inseperable, did everything together. They stayed close up until they were in their late teens, I believe. And I, as the token little sister, of course loved him. But that's beside the point. I was always jealous of their relationship. I'd read books and see movies and TV shows with people who had been best friends all their lives, from early childhood into adulthood, and I wished I had someone like that. My life has been, more or less, a series of best friends, and I always kept hoping that each one would be my last.
My first "best friend" I remember was when I was in elementary school. A girl named Kim Brooks who told me she wouldn't be my friend if I wore my seat belt on the school bus. haha.
I met Barbara in 4th grade. We were both tomboyish and sat at the "boys" table at lunch, and couldn't stand girl friendships. I stayed up all night for the first time with her. We watched Chucky together. She taught me how to shave my legs. Around the middle of 6th grade, we were still friends but had grown apart some. We hung out with the same people and sat together at lunch, but that intense "best friend" thing was gone. I was very good friends with a few girls; Anna, Angelene, and Leslie, and went through phases with all of them. Anna and I were very close, but then she moved away suddenly in 7th grade. Leslie and I fought a lot, and Angelene and I were close but didn't have that same bond. Her mom wouldn't let her come to my house because I lived in the ghetto. :( I also spent a lot of time during this time with Joy, who lived in my apartment complex and I loved but was also a little intimidated by.
Around the middle of 7th grade, I became close with a girl at church named Nancy. Up until this point we'd been kind of enemies, but of course I can't remember why now. She and I had a very dramatic, intense relationship. I think a lot of it was personality and a lot was going through really big firsts together. We were best friends through most of high school, and up until I got married. We went through a lot of really heavy stuff together, and toward the end I really just had to step back in order to deal with my own emotions and goals. We still talk, but not often.
Right after I met Aaron, I met Tosha. She was funny, refreshing, and pretty much my exact opposite. So of course we clicked right away. She opened my mind and taught me to think ina new way. She was with me when I got married. I was with her when she got married. She went to the university I lived at because I was there. She'd come over every day and play with Emily. I have very sweet memories of her coming over and jumping down on all fours with her butt up in the air, making silly faces and noises at baby Emmy. When she had nowhere to live after her freshman year of college, she moved in with us before her wedding that summer. I cried my eyes out at her wedding, just like she'd done at mine. She moved to Japan to live with her Marine husband. The following year, Libby was born and Aaron joined the Army. I kept meaning to visit her, but never could make it happen. I remember her calling me when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter. I was working at the bar and she kept calling over and over; I finally ducked under the counter and answered, and came up with tears in my eyes. Toward the end of her pregnancy, right before she moved back to the States, right before Aaron deployed, we had a huge fight and I told her never to call me again. We had been best friends for 7 years. I mourned the loss of our friendship almost like someone might mourn a death. I agonized, I blamed, I cried, and I could never stop thinking of her. We went two years without talking.
During that time, I learned a lot. I realize now that most of the blame for what happened belongs with me. I learned that my very best friend is my husband. I became very close with my big sister. And I gained a new best girlfriend, Laura. I think a lot of what happened with Tosha is because of my own self-importance. I have talked about it at length with Laura, and I think what happened is, when you're best friends in high school, it can be really hard to translate and evolve into adult best friends. I am of two minds on the subject of me and Tosha's breakup. On the one hand, I treated her unfairly. I undervalued her intelligence and her relationship with her husband and his family. I had unrealistic expectations, and I was mean, really. I found myself often wishing that, if we couldn't be BFF's, that we had at least split amicably. I missed her, I missed out on two years of her daughter's life, and a lot of other times that she really could have used her best friend. I regret that. I wish I could have at least been a shoulder for her. Now, having her back in my life, I'm really feeling how wrong I was for hurting her, for leaving her.
On the other hand, I am very grateful for what it did to my relationship with my husband. For how it drew Teresa and I together. For the way Laura and I relied on each other. I wouldn't change any of those things, but I wish it hadn't cost my relationship with Tosha to get them. I do have her back in my life, now, and I'm grateful for that. Our relationship is different now, but I think a lot of that has to do with knowing what it's like to not have each other. I'm grateful that I don't have to label the people I love as "best friend" in order for them to be a person I love and cherish. I have many women in my life that I can't imagine dealing with my everyday stresses without.
I don't feel like my life is incomplete without a best friend. I don't think I will ever be without a best friend, because, really, Aaron is the one person in this world who knows me through and through, and who I can be as dumb as I want and he'll still love and respect me. There's something really special about having your sister be your best friend, too. She can't get rid of me! Ha ha! I'm grateful for all my ladies, I hope they know this. My world is so rich because of all the different women in my life who help me see things in another light, and who stand behind me. You are all blessings in my life.
My first "best friend" I remember was when I was in elementary school. A girl named Kim Brooks who told me she wouldn't be my friend if I wore my seat belt on the school bus. haha.
I met Barbara in 4th grade. We were both tomboyish and sat at the "boys" table at lunch, and couldn't stand girl friendships. I stayed up all night for the first time with her. We watched Chucky together. She taught me how to shave my legs. Around the middle of 6th grade, we were still friends but had grown apart some. We hung out with the same people and sat together at lunch, but that intense "best friend" thing was gone. I was very good friends with a few girls; Anna, Angelene, and Leslie, and went through phases with all of them. Anna and I were very close, but then she moved away suddenly in 7th grade. Leslie and I fought a lot, and Angelene and I were close but didn't have that same bond. Her mom wouldn't let her come to my house because I lived in the ghetto. :( I also spent a lot of time during this time with Joy, who lived in my apartment complex and I loved but was also a little intimidated by.
Around the middle of 7th grade, I became close with a girl at church named Nancy. Up until this point we'd been kind of enemies, but of course I can't remember why now. She and I had a very dramatic, intense relationship. I think a lot of it was personality and a lot was going through really big firsts together. We were best friends through most of high school, and up until I got married. We went through a lot of really heavy stuff together, and toward the end I really just had to step back in order to deal with my own emotions and goals. We still talk, but not often.
Right after I met Aaron, I met Tosha. She was funny, refreshing, and pretty much my exact opposite. So of course we clicked right away. She opened my mind and taught me to think ina new way. She was with me when I got married. I was with her when she got married. She went to the university I lived at because I was there. She'd come over every day and play with Emily. I have very sweet memories of her coming over and jumping down on all fours with her butt up in the air, making silly faces and noises at baby Emmy. When she had nowhere to live after her freshman year of college, she moved in with us before her wedding that summer. I cried my eyes out at her wedding, just like she'd done at mine. She moved to Japan to live with her Marine husband. The following year, Libby was born and Aaron joined the Army. I kept meaning to visit her, but never could make it happen. I remember her calling me when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter. I was working at the bar and she kept calling over and over; I finally ducked under the counter and answered, and came up with tears in my eyes. Toward the end of her pregnancy, right before she moved back to the States, right before Aaron deployed, we had a huge fight and I told her never to call me again. We had been best friends for 7 years. I mourned the loss of our friendship almost like someone might mourn a death. I agonized, I blamed, I cried, and I could never stop thinking of her. We went two years without talking.
During that time, I learned a lot. I realize now that most of the blame for what happened belongs with me. I learned that my very best friend is my husband. I became very close with my big sister. And I gained a new best girlfriend, Laura. I think a lot of what happened with Tosha is because of my own self-importance. I have talked about it at length with Laura, and I think what happened is, when you're best friends in high school, it can be really hard to translate and evolve into adult best friends. I am of two minds on the subject of me and Tosha's breakup. On the one hand, I treated her unfairly. I undervalued her intelligence and her relationship with her husband and his family. I had unrealistic expectations, and I was mean, really. I found myself often wishing that, if we couldn't be BFF's, that we had at least split amicably. I missed her, I missed out on two years of her daughter's life, and a lot of other times that she really could have used her best friend. I regret that. I wish I could have at least been a shoulder for her. Now, having her back in my life, I'm really feeling how wrong I was for hurting her, for leaving her.
On the other hand, I am very grateful for what it did to my relationship with my husband. For how it drew Teresa and I together. For the way Laura and I relied on each other. I wouldn't change any of those things, but I wish it hadn't cost my relationship with Tosha to get them. I do have her back in my life, now, and I'm grateful for that. Our relationship is different now, but I think a lot of that has to do with knowing what it's like to not have each other. I'm grateful that I don't have to label the people I love as "best friend" in order for them to be a person I love and cherish. I have many women in my life that I can't imagine dealing with my everyday stresses without.
I don't feel like my life is incomplete without a best friend. I don't think I will ever be without a best friend, because, really, Aaron is the one person in this world who knows me through and through, and who I can be as dumb as I want and he'll still love and respect me. There's something really special about having your sister be your best friend, too. She can't get rid of me! Ha ha! I'm grateful for all my ladies, I hope they know this. My world is so rich because of all the different women in my life who help me see things in another light, and who stand behind me. You are all blessings in my life.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Six Months Old
Mah bebe is a giant. He is sooo strong and cute and rolly. This baby has brought so much joy to our family. The girls LOVE him. He loves the girls. He understands the word "sister" and smiles when he hears it. He kicks his legs and tries to hard to chase after them, and in the car seat, he laughs and laughs at their silliness.
He is trying to become a jack of all trades, but is a master of none. He's not sitting on his own (he can prop himself on his arms, but won't go from lying to sitting on his own), but he's trying to crawl. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth, then throws himself on his belly and doesn't understand why it gets him nowhere. On his hands and knees, he can hold himself up on one arm, or two arms and one leg, but hasn't mastered crawling. I think he's just so eager to go that he is impatient. Right now he's on the living room floor, on his belly, fighthing with his binky clip. It's so cute!
Today was his 6-month checkup at the doctor. His assigned PCM is kind of an idiot. At what should have been his 2-month checkup that ended up being his 4-month (my fault), she didn't even touch him. I think she felt his soft spot and touched his cheek when she looked in his ear. She didn't ask what he ate, how he slept, or what his developmental milestones were. She made a snide comment about his diapers and blamed them for his rash. That's it. Even made a note in his chart so that next time I was there trying to get his rash cleared up, THAT doctor asked me if I used diapers or "towels." Ugh. ANYWAY. Today she asked what he ate, listened to his guts, and actually did an exam. I asked her for a referral to dermatology, so we can try and get to the bottom of this rash. She asked if it COULD be his diapers, and I told her no. I can't find a pattern of what makes it worse or better. I'm at my wit's end. So we got the referral, which is good. She asked what foods he ate and I told her we were still exclusively breastfeeding. She told me that waiting too long to introduce solids would cause an "oral aversion" to them. For one thing, I didn't realize six months and 4 days was "waiting too long" and for another, how many adults do you know who don't eat solid foods? DUH. Blah. Anyway, he doesn't have any teeth, and breastmilk is enough for him. I'm not going to feed him that cereal anyhow, when we do start. My opnion is that as long as breastmilk keeps him full, that's all he needs. I'm sure we'll start a few experimental feeding sessions sometime in the next few weeks, though. Just to see how it goes. I tried to feed him a fingertip full of mashed banana a few weeks ago and he choked on it! lol. So we'll see how that goes. Overall, it wasn't a terrible visit. Much better than last time, anyway. I wish she wouldn't tell me stupid shit like I'm a first-time mom. Aaron said he had to bite his tongue. She was telling us, "Sometimes you have to offer a food 4,5,6, times before they'll accept it." Which is common knowledge, and Aaron wanted to say, "Oh, you mean like we did with the other two?" haha. This ain't our first rodeo, lady. I didn't just find this baby on the side of the road. I'm well prepared to take good care of him. I'm not some 14-year-old mom, you know?
Anyway, he is 18 lbs and 6 oz now, and with a head circumference of 17 1/2 inches. He's in the 75th percentile for height, weight, and head circumference. Growin' growin' boy!! The time is going SO fast. I feel like he was just born a few days ago and now he's slipping away. I want him to slooooowowwwwwwww dooooooowwwwwwnnnnnnn.
He is trying to become a jack of all trades, but is a master of none. He's not sitting on his own (he can prop himself on his arms, but won't go from lying to sitting on his own), but he's trying to crawl. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth, then throws himself on his belly and doesn't understand why it gets him nowhere. On his hands and knees, he can hold himself up on one arm, or two arms and one leg, but hasn't mastered crawling. I think he's just so eager to go that he is impatient. Right now he's on the living room floor, on his belly, fighthing with his binky clip. It's so cute!
Today was his 6-month checkup at the doctor. His assigned PCM is kind of an idiot. At what should have been his 2-month checkup that ended up being his 4-month (my fault), she didn't even touch him. I think she felt his soft spot and touched his cheek when she looked in his ear. She didn't ask what he ate, how he slept, or what his developmental milestones were. She made a snide comment about his diapers and blamed them for his rash. That's it. Even made a note in his chart so that next time I was there trying to get his rash cleared up, THAT doctor asked me if I used diapers or "towels." Ugh. ANYWAY. Today she asked what he ate, listened to his guts, and actually did an exam. I asked her for a referral to dermatology, so we can try and get to the bottom of this rash. She asked if it COULD be his diapers, and I told her no. I can't find a pattern of what makes it worse or better. I'm at my wit's end. So we got the referral, which is good. She asked what foods he ate and I told her we were still exclusively breastfeeding. She told me that waiting too long to introduce solids would cause an "oral aversion" to them. For one thing, I didn't realize six months and 4 days was "waiting too long" and for another, how many adults do you know who don't eat solid foods? DUH. Blah. Anyway, he doesn't have any teeth, and breastmilk is enough for him. I'm not going to feed him that cereal anyhow, when we do start. My opnion is that as long as breastmilk keeps him full, that's all he needs. I'm sure we'll start a few experimental feeding sessions sometime in the next few weeks, though. Just to see how it goes. I tried to feed him a fingertip full of mashed banana a few weeks ago and he choked on it! lol. So we'll see how that goes. Overall, it wasn't a terrible visit. Much better than last time, anyway. I wish she wouldn't tell me stupid shit like I'm a first-time mom. Aaron said he had to bite his tongue. She was telling us, "Sometimes you have to offer a food 4,5,6, times before they'll accept it." Which is common knowledge, and Aaron wanted to say, "Oh, you mean like we did with the other two?" haha. This ain't our first rodeo, lady. I didn't just find this baby on the side of the road. I'm well prepared to take good care of him. I'm not some 14-year-old mom, you know?
Anyway, he is 18 lbs and 6 oz now, and with a head circumference of 17 1/2 inches. He's in the 75th percentile for height, weight, and head circumference. Growin' growin' boy!! The time is going SO fast. I feel like he was just born a few days ago and now he's slipping away. I want him to slooooowowwwwwwww dooooooowwwwwwnnnnnnn.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Random Sharing vol. 2
The Fresh Beat Band makes me want to blow up the TV.
I need more clothes. Mine just don't fit, most of them. Jack is going to be 6 months old on Friday, so I don't feel right saying I "just" had a baby, but I still feel that I did just have a baby! I have been thinking of going to get some jeans from the Goodwill.
Yesterday I made some baby pants out of an old shirt, and a costume for Libby. She's going to be a ladybug! Except she's purple and yellow instead of red and black. The "shell" is made of felt, and it's stuffed. The pattern I used the pattern at http://blog.craftzine.com/archive/2008/09/how_to_baby_ladybug_costume.html calls for Velcro to stick the shell to the child's back, but I didn't want to sew or stick on Velcro and ruin the leotard, so I put ribbons on it so she can wear it as a backpack. I also stuffed it with old Wal-mart bags instead of quilt batting. My sister laughed at me. :) Tomorrow I'll go pick up the rest of the stuff the girls will need for their costumes. Em's school does a skate night at the local rink once a month, and we're going tomorrow. The girls will wear their costumes. Then the church has their Halloween party Friday night. I was kind of agonizing about what to get Jack to wear, but then I decided to make him be a lumberjack. He's got jeans and a flannel shirt, I'm going to use makeup to give him a "beard" and try to find a black beanie cap for him to wear.
My husband hasn't gotten promoted yet. They're giving him lots of the run around. A little extra money, aside from teh recognition he deserves, will be very nice.
We're probably going to be stationed at Fort Lewis, WA, next. It'll be fun! People are crunchy there. :D
Jack is so close to crawling. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks. Every time I sit and think, "Oh my goodness he's going to do it" he flops down on that ole belly of his. It's going to be soon. He hasn't sat up yet, though! Crazy baby.
I was going to put some more stuff in here but I can't remember now. Oh, well.
I need more clothes. Mine just don't fit, most of them. Jack is going to be 6 months old on Friday, so I don't feel right saying I "just" had a baby, but I still feel that I did just have a baby! I have been thinking of going to get some jeans from the Goodwill.
Yesterday I made some baby pants out of an old shirt, and a costume for Libby. She's going to be a ladybug! Except she's purple and yellow instead of red and black. The "shell" is made of felt, and it's stuffed. The pattern I used the pattern at http://blog.craftzine.com/archive/2008/09/how_to_baby_ladybug_costume.html calls for Velcro to stick the shell to the child's back, but I didn't want to sew or stick on Velcro and ruin the leotard, so I put ribbons on it so she can wear it as a backpack. I also stuffed it with old Wal-mart bags instead of quilt batting. My sister laughed at me. :) Tomorrow I'll go pick up the rest of the stuff the girls will need for their costumes. Em's school does a skate night at the local rink once a month, and we're going tomorrow. The girls will wear their costumes. Then the church has their Halloween party Friday night. I was kind of agonizing about what to get Jack to wear, but then I decided to make him be a lumberjack. He's got jeans and a flannel shirt, I'm going to use makeup to give him a "beard" and try to find a black beanie cap for him to wear.
My husband hasn't gotten promoted yet. They're giving him lots of the run around. A little extra money, aside from teh recognition he deserves, will be very nice.
We're probably going to be stationed at Fort Lewis, WA, next. It'll be fun! People are crunchy there. :D
Jack is so close to crawling. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks. Every time I sit and think, "Oh my goodness he's going to do it" he flops down on that ole belly of his. It's going to be soon. He hasn't sat up yet, though! Crazy baby.
I was going to put some more stuff in here but I can't remember now. Oh, well.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I love breastfeeding.
Anyone who's known me for more than ten minutes knows I'm all about breastfeeding. I always have been. I was in my teens before I realized that anyone chose not to breastfeed. The idea was so foreign to me. My siblings and I were all breastfed to some degree, and growing up I was around lots and lots of babies and pretty much all of them were breastfed. It was always very normal to me. I remember when Aaron and I were discussing marriage and I told him, pretty out of the blue, that I was going to breastfeed. His exact response was, "Uh, okay." I'd heard stories of men who couldn't get over the idea that his wife's breasts belonged to him and didn't want to share. I wanted to avoid that kind of confrontation.
He's always been very very supportive of my breastfeeding. He tells me on a fairly regular basis that he loves how I breastfeed our babies. He tries to get men he knows to convince their wives to breastfeed. It makes me proud and it tickles me.
I planned on breastfeeding Emily for a year, then weaning slowly at about 15 months. That way, I'd "get my body back" for trying to get pregnant with another baby. I had no idea that I would fall in love with breastfeeding my baby. It's amazing, the feeling of relaxation, of being needed, of being the very center of this tiny, beautiful person's world. I went ahead and got pregnant at around 17-18 months, as planned, but didn't quit nursing. I was told to wean her, but I just couldn't do it. I had never known anyone who breastfed as long as I was doing, but it just felt right. One day, Aaron suggested I wean the baby, because it was odd to him to see a child her age nursing, and I told him to mind his own business. He's never suggested I wean again. Haha. She was pretty much self-weaning, and I told her that we'd be done once the baby got here. She did fine with that. The night I went into labor with Libby, contracting, nursing Emily, is one of my most cherished memories. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
I nursed Libby for what felt like an eternity. She was much more needy than Emily was, and could never be distracted from nursing. If she asked for boobie, then boobie was the only thing that could make her happy. It could be very draining at times. When I got pregnant in September of 2008, I knew that if I nursed her throughout the pregnancy that she would want to nurse every time the newborn wanted to nurse, and I couldn't handle that. I had wanted to practice child-led weaning, so I was somewhat disappointed, but I didn't want to resent Libby for nursing as long as she had. We lost the baby, but I had already made my peace with weaning and was getting tired of it, so I slowly weaned her over a course of 6 months.
I always had this idea that nursing a boy would feel odd. Not wrong, but different, somehow, than nursing a girl. It's stupid, really, to think that. Breastfeeding isn't sexual, but I still wondered if it would feel as "right" as nursing my girls had. When Jack was born, that went away completely. I didn't even remember worrying for weeks. When he was born, and I started bleeding, I tried to get him to nurse for about half an hour before he latched on. Then, after I got back from the hospital, I couldn't wait to get him in my arms and get him nursing again. I cried as I held him again. Six hours is an eternity when you're away from your newborn baby. After that, we lay in bed all the rest of that day, and he nursed almost constantly. I was so exhausted I barely opened my eyes. I couldn't get enough of him and he couldn't get enough of me. It was peaceful, sweet, and quiet. So much better than the noisy, bright, non-private hospital. But I digress.
Nursing my children, all of my children, is a peaceful, fulfilling experience. Holding my darling angels in my arms, to my breast, is lovely. Their lips are so pretty flanged out while they nurse. Jack often wants to nurse in bed, and he pets my breast as he nurses. If he quits suckling for a bit and I move to unlatch him, he curls up like a shrimp and searches with his mouth. If he can feel my breast with his hand, he tries to pull me toward him. It's the cutest damn thing, it really is. I feel loved when I nurse my babies. I feel proud, and peaceful, and unburdened. Breastfeeding is wonderful. Aside from birthing my babies, breastfeeding them is the best thing I've ever done for them. I love it, I really do.
He's always been very very supportive of my breastfeeding. He tells me on a fairly regular basis that he loves how I breastfeed our babies. He tries to get men he knows to convince their wives to breastfeed. It makes me proud and it tickles me.
I planned on breastfeeding Emily for a year, then weaning slowly at about 15 months. That way, I'd "get my body back" for trying to get pregnant with another baby. I had no idea that I would fall in love with breastfeeding my baby. It's amazing, the feeling of relaxation, of being needed, of being the very center of this tiny, beautiful person's world. I went ahead and got pregnant at around 17-18 months, as planned, but didn't quit nursing. I was told to wean her, but I just couldn't do it. I had never known anyone who breastfed as long as I was doing, but it just felt right. One day, Aaron suggested I wean the baby, because it was odd to him to see a child her age nursing, and I told him to mind his own business. He's never suggested I wean again. Haha. She was pretty much self-weaning, and I told her that we'd be done once the baby got here. She did fine with that. The night I went into labor with Libby, contracting, nursing Emily, is one of my most cherished memories. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
I nursed Libby for what felt like an eternity. She was much more needy than Emily was, and could never be distracted from nursing. If she asked for boobie, then boobie was the only thing that could make her happy. It could be very draining at times. When I got pregnant in September of 2008, I knew that if I nursed her throughout the pregnancy that she would want to nurse every time the newborn wanted to nurse, and I couldn't handle that. I had wanted to practice child-led weaning, so I was somewhat disappointed, but I didn't want to resent Libby for nursing as long as she had. We lost the baby, but I had already made my peace with weaning and was getting tired of it, so I slowly weaned her over a course of 6 months.
I always had this idea that nursing a boy would feel odd. Not wrong, but different, somehow, than nursing a girl. It's stupid, really, to think that. Breastfeeding isn't sexual, but I still wondered if it would feel as "right" as nursing my girls had. When Jack was born, that went away completely. I didn't even remember worrying for weeks. When he was born, and I started bleeding, I tried to get him to nurse for about half an hour before he latched on. Then, after I got back from the hospital, I couldn't wait to get him in my arms and get him nursing again. I cried as I held him again. Six hours is an eternity when you're away from your newborn baby. After that, we lay in bed all the rest of that day, and he nursed almost constantly. I was so exhausted I barely opened my eyes. I couldn't get enough of him and he couldn't get enough of me. It was peaceful, sweet, and quiet. So much better than the noisy, bright, non-private hospital. But I digress.
Nursing my children, all of my children, is a peaceful, fulfilling experience. Holding my darling angels in my arms, to my breast, is lovely. Their lips are so pretty flanged out while they nurse. Jack often wants to nurse in bed, and he pets my breast as he nurses. If he quits suckling for a bit and I move to unlatch him, he curls up like a shrimp and searches with his mouth. If he can feel my breast with his hand, he tries to pull me toward him. It's the cutest damn thing, it really is. I feel loved when I nurse my babies. I feel proud, and peaceful, and unburdened. Breastfeeding is wonderful. Aside from birthing my babies, breastfeeding them is the best thing I've ever done for them. I love it, I really do.
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