Just one more

Sorry folks, I’m apparently full of it today. (please feel free to insert whatever definition of “it” you would like in that sentence πŸ˜‰ )

But this one’s too good to pass up. R just sent me this description he found on one of his bargain sites:Β  Amazon has the Mangroomer Do It Yourself Electric Back Hair Shaver for $23 with free shipping. Features 135 degrees of motion, and an extendable and adjustable handle that can lock in place. [Compare]

My reply:Β  um, what? i didn’t even know they made those

Then he sent me the link. Ha! It’s essentially a shaving back scratcher. πŸ™‚ I particularly enjoy the 6th photo in the row of images. Why this struck me so funny, I have no idea. Something about the word “Mangroomer”. Guess it’s just one of those days…

 

Holy shitballs! & More random

“Holy shitballs!” Those were the exact words that flew out of my mouth and into D’s ears on the way home yesterday when I saw that gas had dropped to $3.89 per gallon at the cheaper of the two stations near our house. $3.89 per gallon and I’m getting excited? What is wrong with that picture?

The other weekend we were at R’s brother’s house to drop D off to be babysat for a few hours, and R went upstairs to use the bathroom. No big deal, that is a common occurrence at their house. This pit stop was taking longer than usual, however, and finally R’s sister-in-law asked where R was. R’s brother said, “He’s upstairs taking a dump.” Again, no big deal, that is also a common occurrence at their house and we’re all close, so who cares if that is announced? Well in the meantime, I proceeded to use the downstairs bathroom. R came back downstairs before I returned and now asked where I was, and our 5-year-old nephew proclaimed, “She’s in the bathroom taking a dump.” πŸ™‚ (no, i wasn’t really. that bathroom is right off the kitchen and only has a curtain for a door right now as they’re remodeling, so no dumping occurs in that one)

You know what really bugs me? When I get logged off a session on a website I’ve been on for a while and have to log back in to do something. Just leave me signed in. I’m on my own computer, so you don’t need to shut me out every 47 seconds. I realize this is simply a security measure for my information’s protection and we all know the importance of security on the interwebs these days and all, but come on. It just irks me. I have enough stupid log in IDs and passwords to keep track of without you booting me out willy nilly when I come back to your browser window. (i literally have a spreadsheet containing all my log ins and passwords because there’s no way in hell i can remember them all. and then when i have to change one and update the spreadsheet? ugh)

You know what else bugs me? Unread emails in my inbox. I just can’t stand seeing the little new mail icon and the number of unread messages next to the word “Inbox”. Why? Who knows. Maybe it’s my organizational nature and innate disdain for clutter. And if an unread email accidentally finds its way into the deleted items folder? Holy shitballs, the humanity!

 

Adventures in babymilking

Seriously, SM, another post about milk and your boobs? Yep, seriously. These things happen to have become a large part of me over these past 9 months and this blog is all about me, so it kind of comes with the territory. So there you go. A different version of my boob talk disclaimer. πŸ™‚

But moving right along… Since we decided to switch D to whole milk sooner rather than later as she was not fond of formula in the slightest, I have been getting anxious about running out of our frozen breast milk reservoir too early. Which is kind of unsettling for me, because I’m really not an anxious person. But I just keep feeling like no, it’s too soon, I didn’t want her to stop breast milk completely this far before 1 year, I’m a horrible mom for not continuing to pump to keep up my supply when I probably could have, is she getting enough nutrition, is she eating enough other foods to compensate for the lack of good stuff she gets from my milk, will her weight be ok without breast milk since she was only in the 25-50% for weight at her 9 month appointment, and on and on and on.

I was talking to one of her daycare teachers about making this switch the other day, and she recommended mixing the breast milk with whole milk to start off, just to make sure she’ll take it and to help get her used to it. DUH! That most obvious of thoughts hadn’t even crossed my mind. I mean not even a tiptoe through the gray matter to clue me in on such an apparent notion. Here I was fretting myself silly about using up the very last drop of our precious breast milk then flat out pouring whole milk into her bottle. How can I bring myself to do that?? How can I possibly cut my baby off from my sweet river of milky goodness in one fell swoop, never to be drunk again?? Um, psst, SM, you don’t have to. Just mix them, and she’ll be fine. Whew!! Praise the lord and hallelujah all in one, I’m not failing my baby after all! That one simple wondrous tidbit of parenting advice just saved this first-timer from a possible nervous breakdown. Sure that may sound utterly ridiculous and unfounded, but such are the worries of a still relatively new mom. It’s not my fault.

And the best part? She loves the milk combo! She had it first at daycare yesterday and they said she had no trouble whatsoever, so I picked up a gallon of whole milk last night on my way home to give it a shot. I even splurged the extra $2 and bought the organic whole milk. R and I can subsist on the paltry contaminated regular milk, but nothing but the best for Queen D! I just pour half a bag of breast milk in her bottle, fill what would have been the other half of the bag’s amount with whole milk, shake it up, then warm it as we normally do. And she doesn’t even blink an eye. Success!

I know it sounds crazy, but this whole milk substitution half-and-half episode has lifted a weight off my shoulders. Not only is it just plain easy, but this should help extend our frozen breast milk stash out for at least another week if not all the way through the end of the month. Before I stopped pumping as often after D stopped nursing, I figured I could continue easily to the beginning of June, when she would be 10 months old. I knew I didn’t want to pump all the way to 1 year in August, but I did want to make it as far as possible with my milk reserves. Then once I realized how quickly that supply was dwindling as my pumping sessions became fewer and farther between, the double digit months became my target. So when I saw that we might not even be able to make it that far, I got nervous and started beating myself up mentally. Whole milk mixing has saved Mommy’s sanity.

As for the whole pumping routine, it’s pretty much finished. I can now go well over 24 hours between pumps. My last time was yesterday morning at 5:30, where I got one bag of 5 oz. and one bag of almost 4 oz., and I’m nowhere near feeling like I need to express any again yet. Plus I’ve noticed it takes longer and longer for my milk to let down, so maybe yesterday’s session was the grand finale of pumping. Gone are the days of rock-hard boobs that could spray milk like fire hydrants (i’m not kidding. on multiple occasions D got a face full of milk after pulling away from me while my milk was letting down). Gone are the days of feeling like my chest was literally going to explode after just a couple hours. Gone are the mornings of waking up with a soaking wet shirt because my boobs had gotten so engorged they leaked overnight. Ah, goodbye sweet full, leaking, perky boobs. It was fun while it lasted.