Backed into a corner

That's a huge understatement of how I feel right now. Breastfeeding Alex has always been rocky - slow gaining in the beginning, the whole FTT/low supply song and dance and lets not forget the bad latch - of which I have what I hope is not a permanent reminder (callous - ouch). There have been some nice parts, don't get me wrong - but for the most part it has been a constant struggle. Even now I'm downing the fenugreek and blessed thistle again to boost my supply so he'll hopefully give me some rest, but after a year of toe-curling pain and not a few tears I am really ready to be done.

My mind is at war with itself. There is a big part of me that continues for the reason that I never made it this far with Michael - our nursing relationship was dysfunctional from the start and ended when he got his first cold and went on a strike. There there's the whole WHO recommendation of nursing for two years minimum which has been beaten into my head from the message boards I frequent. There's the fact that Alex is only 13 months and still such a baby and really does need it, not only for nutrition but the emotional attachment it brings.

Those are all reasons to continue, there's also the fact that constant sleep deprivation is taking a heavy toll on me. I never fully heal - the past year has been one long series of colds that never quite go away. My body is always achy because it never gets the restorative sleep it needs to function. I am starting to have some serious concerns about the toll this is taking on my health - both physical and mental. My brain is mush and I am not nearly the parent I know I can be to my kids because I'm always just shy of complete exhaustion. Hell, so much of my energy is focused on just getting through the day that I rarely get to just sit back and enjoy my kids.

I've made the decision to night-wean and then onto complete weaning if that doesn't work. We are starting the arduous process of registering Michael with the school district for kindergarten and in my current mental state there is no way I can be the advocate I need to be for him. I can't skip meetings or doing things because I'm too exhausted or just can't muster the mental energy necessary to interact with people beyond the baristas at my local Starbucks. While Alex has some pretty big needs right now too, I can't sit this process out - it's too damned important. I want to do what's best for myself and my kids and unfortunately that might mean not breastfeeding any more.

I'm probably trying to convince myself here more than the faceless internet. I've made it to 13 months nursing and that's no small feat considering the social climate and the obstacles I've faced. I'd like to continue to do so, but the time is fast approaching where I'm going to have to make that hard decision between doing what's best for me and my family verses the standard that others have set.

Turning a Corner

Well, I hope I am.

I'm slowly settling into a routine with Alex and his feeding - as long as I am super vigilant about taking my fenugreek and blessed thistle, there is a definite flow and it's one that I can live with having dealt with the alternatives a few times over the past several weeks.

I am still not the parent I want to be to Michael, but I try my hardest to be every day. Although I feel like I'm spending way too much time apologizing to him, he's accepting of me as I am and I still get lots of, "I like you, Mom" which in Michael-speak means a hell of a lot more than a simple, "I love you."

I did remember it at the last minute - but my 9th wedding anniversary was last week. I still can't believe I've been with John for 11 years and married for the last nine of them. Most of all I can't believe how incredibly blessed I am to be able to share my life with this man and raise children with him. Life almost never relents, but we've been making the effort to maintain our relationship - granted dates are always with at least one kid in tow, but it's something and we'll have real couple-time again soon.

Last but not least, my mind is starting to overflow with ideas once more and I actually am able to put aside time to do something about it. Currently, I'm busy knitting prototypes and items to sell, but in the near future I'm going to really concentrate of self-publishing some of my patterns and get my act together and actually finish my perennial Knitty submission. Keep your eyes open 'cause some changes are on their way.

Kids are both asleep and John is off from work so I can take myself and my knitting up to Starbucks for some quality time with my I-pod. TTFN!

Fly in the ointment

Michael has been up for the past two nights with various complaints, not the least of which is that nasty non-productive cough he gets whenever he starts getting congested. What's harder to deal with than a 3.5 year-old going trough a sibling transition, you might ask? The same child on Ventolin. His breathing is getting sketchy, but no actual wheezing yet, so I'm hoping we can avoid the true horror that is prednisone and *gulp* albuterol in the nebulizer. Of course I've been dealing with the post-nasal drip cough myself for several days and now Alexander is having sneezing fits and a little bit of a runny nose. I'm really praying it doesn't progress, I have no desire to start the baby torture that is saline spray and a nasal aspirator.

I am so happy that I started a family with the man I did. Alexander naps better in-arms and John just accepts that this is the natural order and not something that he needs to be trained out of. We were talking about how some of our approaches are different, but our core philosophy that children are humans that need to be respected regardless of age is something that we just took for granted that the other held to be self-evident, it's definitely not something that we ever overtly discussed. It's probably more of a reaction to our own upbringing more than anything - being treated like we were *just* children and didn't get any sort of respect for our individual needs planted the seed of what we wanted to do differently. He's also an incredibly hands-on parent - tag-teaming for the past two nights with a hungry Alexander and a semi-hysterical Michael (he *really* doesn't like coughing) was just natural.

All right - Michael needs to be wrangled and then Alexander needs to be fed so I must be off.

Blahs

It's clammy and wet outside, I'm getting a cold, Michael had a 15 minute meltdown tonight 'cause I would not let him macerate my ice cream with his own spoon (sorry folks, it was my line in the sand), and I got my first *real* taste of the scary potential of life with two (we had S's son all afternoon). I really think it was a combination of weather, recent school upheavals, and probably the fruit gem candy he ate this afternoon that caused all the problems with Michael. I also realized that I have to have a talk about how we phrase inappropriate behavior - "bad" was used as a descriptive several times this afternoon and it made my skin crawl each time I heard it. Granted, internally I was just screaming at him to please for the love of all that is holy stop and listen, but I tried to stay as GD as possible since perpetuating the feedback loop does no one any good. Despite the fact that I could have ended the incident over the ice cream by giving in, I just didn't have it in me at that point. I do have to say I am proud of how I handled the fifteen minutes of screaming - I wanted nothing more than to throw a spoon and scream right back at him, but I kept my cool and calmly explained why I wasn't letting him do this and gave him all the hugs he wanted during the ordeal. He did finally end up sitting in my lap and we shared the last bit of Hagen Daaz. Man, this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but I don't think I'll completely suck at it.