Dear Self: RestFeeding

time is flying.  

i am feeling constantly torn between trying to stop it and throwing my hands up in defeat.  Malcolm's going to be 4 months and i just don't even know how to come to terms with it.  i haven't taken a lot of photos of family life, i haven't really taken a lot of photos in general actually.  i really wish i had someone here to just document a day in the life for me, all the crazy moments and all the tender moments...  i'm exhausted, constantly on my feet jumping from one thing to another with exception for when i'm breastfeeding or as chloe zinged me today RESTfeeding.  touché chloe, glad you got your sense of humour from your mother.  ha.

rest feeding is always a semi-manic process of preparing oneself.  you know it will happen, you have an idea of when it will happen, but you are never fully equipped once nature calls.  well, i guess i'm not fully equipped.  my "breast friend" breastfeeding pillow (or The Breastfeeder as chloe calls it) is always on or standing by the couch along with another pillow for my back for maximum comfort for the 20 minute feeding.  i usually want to have a cup of tea, but of course there is never one ready at the time i am called for duty.  so on my hip Malcolm sits, as i one handedly prepare a cup which is anywhere from 2-5 minutes while he possibly cries or whimpers with hunger.  my carrying arm burns as it struggles to support 16lbs of wiggly potato sack baby.

finally the tea is ready.  if i am lucky, there is hot water leftover from a previous cup of tea.  i also have started resteeping tea 2-3 times intend of making new batches.  sometimes i don't need a full flavoured tea, a light flavoured one is always just as nice, especially since it means i don't have to wash the metal steeper 5 extra times.  TEA IS READY.  my holding arm continues to burn while my other hand tightly grips my mug and my face tightens as i concentrate really hard on keeping the hot tea steady while Malcolm continues to wriggle.  i usually have to push our 10lb log stump table closer to the couch so my tea is within reaching distance, another feat i have mastered.  so baby in one arm, hot tea in the other and now standing on one foot while the other pushes the stump.  sometimes i put the tea down first but it doesn't make too much difference since i can't push the stump with my free hand anyway.  tea goes down and i prop the pillow up for my back, grab the breast feeder and swoop it around my back/stomach and sit down hoping the back-pillow doesn't fall flat.  the breast feeding pillow gets mangled behind my back 50% of the time which makes me want to scream, especially since by this point Malcolm is losing his baby shit.  i'm now ready to prop him on the breastfeeder and scoop out a tit.

DAMMIT.  i forgot my phone and/or the remote (because i'm not going to sit here for 20 minutes without some form of entertainment.)  up again to find one or both.

DAMMIT.  he is probably going to want to nap once he is fed enough and he doesn't nap unless he is swaddled and cozy warm.  i throw the breastfeeder out of the way once again and get up to find a swaddle blanket for Mr CryBaby.  my arm starts burning again while i'm one handedly arranging the swaddling blanket into a diamond shape and tucking the top corner down.  Malcolm cries harder when i lay him down out of my arms, but calms down for 5 seconds while he recognizes the feel of being swaddled.  his cries amp up again as he tells me to HURRY THE EFF UP AND FEED ME.

back pillow is propped up again, i wriggle back into the breastfeeder that is of course not going on properly, i feel my giant tits to see which one is more full and then stuff it in his face.

then comes the attempt to reach over for my hot cup of tea.  another tricky situation where i need to reach over but not too far as to pluck my boob from his mouth so that he fusses and shakes and creates a danger to himself.  then of course, do i bother trying to reach to put it back or keep it with me?  i usually end up drinking half and then putting it back, only to forget about it as i get immersed into my show or scrolling through instagram.  it's ok, i'm long used to drinking cold or lukewarm tea...


yes it is lovely and i love it when he finally falls asleep and i get to prop him up and snuggle his little head and face that has just broken the tiniest sweat from the joint warmth of our body heat.

by now i have watched an episode of old 30Rock and i am feeling so comfortable that the thought of moving  or getting up to clean or get my taxes together or continue working on that client's logo is 100 miles away.  so i watch a second episode first.  thank god for PVR!  also, after that whole ridiculous process, it needs to be worth my time.

nothing special, nothing posed
just me and my little dude in his crazy jambes with two complete mismatched blankets
and our closets still without doors

the way things are



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