Baby Business
The Door-Turned-Desk-Turned-Tinier-Desk
When Clara came down with a case of the coloring bug a few weeks ago, it became clear that she needed an alternate surface for her artistry than the floor. You know, just in case she didn’t feel like tummy-drawing.
We talked about a few fun play tables over on BabyCenter a couple of weeks ago, but finally found the inspiration that we needed to DIY one right in front of our eyes. And no, it wasn’t this leftover-plywood-slash-side-table combo that Sherry rigged up in about 30 seconds of “hey, maybe this will work!” Sorry, Sherry. #playtablefail. Back to the drawing board…
Actually, this was our inspiration. The desk that we built with an old door for our first house’s office, that’s been getting the cold shoulder ever since we DIYed a newer, bigger desk for our current house’s office (which made this one look oddly tiny and cramped). It had been sitting at the opposite end of our dining room for a while – just waiting to somehow be repurposed (or craigslisted).
Well, this was its lucky day. It was too tall and too long, but since it was something that we cut to size the first time around, we figured… why not tweak it again? So we set off to create a miniature version of it. But we had a few requirements for it (like for it to be able to be used while Clara’s sitting or standing like a true activity table, to be big enough to seat a few other kiddos, to be sturdy and solid and safe, and to not be too precious – so it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Clara broke out a permanent marker on it one day). After chatting about a game plan with Sherry for a while (to figure out the right width for a few kids and the right height for standing & chairs), I lugged it down to my basement workshop and starting disassembling it.
Then I used the miter saw to cut the legs down a few inches.
Then I had to cut down the tabletop (aka, the old door). For this I broke out my beloved table saw.
With my top and legs trimmed down to kiddy sizes, I just had to cut down the support pieces (aka: the aprons) and screw everything back together again.
Oh and I did have to patch the open end of the door this time (when it was our desk we just left the end open because it faced the wall, so nobody saw it – and the room was so tiny that no one could get back there). But that wasn’t going to fly with little wandering hands around. So I cut a thin strip of spare plywood and nailed it into place. Once it’s all painted, it should look pretty good.
So with that (and zero dollars spent) Clara’s new coloring desk was complete. Well, mostly.
It still needs a fresh coat of paint. And we’re leaning towards (can you handle this?) white, so that we can make the $5 yard sale chairs the colorful accent instead of the table itself. Although Clara has done some crayon scribbling on the top that’s so cute it makes us want to tell her to go nuts and then use some sort of clear sealer to keep the doodles around forever. So we’ll have keep you posted if/when we make a decision…
There’s something really charming about the fact that it was made from an old linen closet door from our first house (where we brought Clara home from the hospital and raised her for her first seven months of life). That’s one sentimental table. And we love that Clara now has her own pint-sized parson’s desk when our adult-sized one (from West Elm) sits on the other side of the living room. It’s like a mini-desk for our mini-me.
Oh and you may remember these yard sale chairs that we scored back in the summer. We actually used them to build the desk at the right height for those chairs (and for playing while standing too – you know we like things that multitask). So it’s nice to have two chairs that already work. You know so if Clara’s baby BFF’s drop by we’re ready (we can also pull the desk away from the wall if kids want to face each other or we want to add more chairs in the future).
They don’t look half bad as-is (one has been stained yellow while the other was stained an evergreen color and they’re both pretty worn) so they might stick around like that for a while. We did debate painting/staining them someday, but it doesn’t seem to matter to Clara either. She fell in love with her new spot from the first second she laid eyes on it. Must be nice to wake up from a nap to something that was custom built just for you.
But seriously, look at that face. Does it not make you want to build something for her too?
We’re leaving the desk here in the living room for now because it was an empty spot and it’s convenient for her to color while we relax work on the couch/clean up/prepare dinner in the nearby kitchen, etc. But we made sure to keep the desk small enough so that it could also slip into her room, the future playroom, the kitchen, or just about anywhere else that we may want to place it as she grows.
Wanna know the best part of this project? Besides it being 100% free, we got the entire thing done in one day. From concept to completion. Man did that feel good. Especially with a certain other project that’s taking several months (cough…thekitchen…cough…cough). Although now that this is done, it’s back to cutting trim and sanding wood putty. More on that stuff for ya tomorrow.
Pumpkin Fingers
Since one year olds aren’t really “of age” when it comes to pumpkin carving, we’ve been trying to figure out a way to involve Clara in pumpkin decorating this year. And she deserved a promotion from last year’s job as hand model:
So a few days ago we finally figured out a way for Clara’s hand to come in, um, handy again. But first – let’s introduce our subjects. We’ll call them Big Brother, Middle Child, and Little Piggy.
On Monday night I broke out my favorite all-purpose medium (aka painter’s tape) and marked out a traditional jack-o-lantern stencil on Middle Child.
Then with an exacto knife I cut out the pattern carefully (okay, not that carefully – I sliced into the pumpkin a bit) and peeled away the extra tape.
Voila. He’s not done – just ready to be painted. Do you see where we’re going with this?
For Little Piggy I used a ruler to slice some thin strips of painter’s tape and created a stripe pattern all around the pumpkin.
And for Big Brother we decided to go with a P to represent the whole Petersik family of four (four-leggers count in our house – so this isn’t a baby announcement).
A few more cuts later, and our trio of pumpkins were ready to meet their artist.
And here she is now. Stripped down to a diaper and ready to make a mess.
We poured out some Crayola Washable Paints on a few paper plates and with some minor urging, Clara delicately started coloring her orange canvas.
She was a little confused by being allowed to make a mess, so it did take a little bit of hand holding to keep her going. In some cases literal hand holding – place palm in paint, now slap it on pumpkin and rub! That solicited a good amount of giggling. Anything to keep the ol’ artist inspired.
She grew a bit tired of touching the pumpkins after the first two (she liked just dabbing her hands in the paint instead), so Sherry took over the task of painting Big Brother. Which was probably for the best since we decided that a rough circle around the monogram might be fun (and there was no way little miss toddler hands could contain herself to such a strict parameter).
The verdict? Clara seemed to have a blast. But eventually we got the “all dawn!” signal (aka: all done) and decided to call our art session officially complete.
Not before snapping a few more cute pics, of course.
Once Sherry had whisked Clara off to the bathtub, I got to seeing what our artiste had accomplished. Yup, it was tape-peeling time…
I carefully peeled of the painter’s tape to reveal our final result (with the paint still wet, since we feared that peeling it off once the paint was dry would result in the paint peeling off in chunks). Behold: Psychedelic pumpkins!
Sure, they’re not über sophisticated – but they were fun. And we think white pumpkins + a more refined color palette (yellow & gray? emerald and navy? teal & grellow?) could be really fun instead of the rainbow-inspired color scheme that Clara chose. Oh and we sprayed them over with a sealer (we had Aileen’s Gloss Spray Acrylic Sealer around, so hopefully that’ll do the trick) because this paint is washable, so we don’t want a rainstorm to send colors bleeding all over our bench (hopefully our porch awning + sealer = enough protection).
And on the subject of pumpkins, let’s take a walk down memory lane. You’ve already seen our handprint-eyed jack-o-lantern from 2010 (first pic) but that was actually in addition to the crazy puffy painted versions that we also did last year (without Clara’s help). I think they’re our favorites of all time.
In 2009 we went the creepy route and painted insects on white pumpkins (and yes, monograms tend to be a theme for us).
You can even watch that pumpkin project on time lapse video:
And last but not least, in 2008 we tried our hand at intricate carvings – only one of which really worked out that well, if you ask me. Which one? The monogram of course. Wow, we really do like to see letters on pumpkins don’t we?
So, with all that said (and shown) – what are you guys doing for pumpkins this year? We’d love to see links and photos if you’ve got ‘em. Or if you have any great tips for including kids and toddlers in the festivities, I’m sure Clara will thank you when next Halloween rolls around…
Psst- We had some fall fun this past weekend (more over on Young House Life).
Moving & Shaking
We’re knee deep in the middle of a bunch o’ projects (in the office, the dining room, and the living room- yeah we’re all over the place), so we thought we’d share the one thing we actually completed in the meantime, which was a little moving (and some obligatory shaking) when it came to Clara’s nursery. Here’s what it looked like mid-chaos (chaos = really bad pics):
Why the furniture shuffle? Well, we arranged it for Clara’s seven month old self (she wasn’t even crawling when we moved in) and now she’s a fifteen month old walking fiend with a lot wider “wingspan” so we had to make some changes to keep her safe slash happy slash sleeping.
The issues:
- an air vent was located near the foot of the crib, and sometimes when the air kicked on in the morning it would wake Clara up early. Which any parent will tell you is a tragedy.
- a few slivers of sunshine landed right in the crib due to slipping out the side of the thick curtains & closed blinds (which also occasionally woke her up at the crack of dawn)
- her taller height/longer reach meant she was getting closer to grabbing the nearby curtains from her crib, which evoked visions of finding her swinging from the rafters in the morning like a happy little monkey
- the bench under the window wasn’t ever something Clara seemed interested in, but we worried when she got older she might try to climb up on it and get out the window (you know, when she enters the Houdini stage)
- the ceramic table lamp on the side table was a lot more pull-downable thanks to our tall & active bean (time for something not-breakable and not-reachable)
Also:
- there are just certain types of people who like to rearrange furniture, and we’re it
Here’s what it looked like before the switch:
So here are the changes I made (John was working and I was on Clara duty, so she loved “helping” me push things or clapping while I did all the work):
- I pushed the crib around the room against every available wall and in every possible configuration and decided that we (Clara and I) liked it best under the high-hanging and securely mounted mobile & floating shelves that used to be over her changing table (bam, no more air vent or stream of sunshine issues – and everything hanging on the wall is a good foot out of Clara’s reach)
- I was sure to pull the crib further away from the curtains so there’s no way Clara’s long arms can grab them from the new location (in some shots they look close but they’re over 2 feet from the crib, and the crib mattress is in the lowest position)
- I played around with a bunch of places for the changing table and eventually settled on the wall full of frames (although some of them hung too low so I tweaked the arrangement so they wouldn’t get kicked mid-diaper-change)
- I moved the chair, ottoman, and side table under the green mirror and added a not-ceramic-or-kid-height floor lamp that’s a lot more bean-safe
- I moved the bench away from under the window and stuck it on the wall with the closet
And since all those bullets are probably as clear as mud, here’s a little sketch for ya:
Now that the rearranging dust has cleared, it’s deffffffinitely nowhere close to perfect. But it’s a huge improvement in the function department (no more safety or early-wake-up worries). And Clara, who has always awoken at 7:30 (at least for the last 5+ months straight) has slept til 8:00 since the switch (two days in a row!). Which is no small miracle. So if the room looked beyond ugly we’d probably leave the furniture right where it is. Haha. Just kidding. Not really.
Anyway, here’s the new setup:
And here are some details that make my sappy mom heart happy:
Of course there are more than a few things we’d still like to do in there (although we’re set on finishing the other projects around the house that we have in progress, so there’s no rush). But here’s the ol’ list:
- get/make a less awkward side table for the chair and ottoman (that’s an already-had-it nightstand from our old guest room that we stuck baskets in to create drawers – and later removed since Clara now
likesdemands easier access) - hang something over the green bench in the corner (I already know what’s gonna go there – and let’s just say I’m feeling ducky about it)
- sew a new pillow cover for the chair (the green pillow under the green mirror is a little “meh” for me – and we have lots of spare fabric from Clara’s photo project
- expand Clara’s frame wall (height and width wise) with even more photos (John’s baby pic had to come down so it didn’t get kicked from the changing pad, and I’m dying to get it back up there out of Clara’s reach along with some other stuff)
- DIY a dollhouse
- make a beanbag for Clara’s closet reading nook
- paint the area under the window with leftover magnetic paint under wall paint so she can have a fun “secret” magnet wall
- add crown molding
- paint the ceiling
There are probably a bunch more things that I’m forgetting. Oh well, one step at a time, right? And since we’re on the subject of the bean, here’s another little video for ya. So proud of our little “reader”:
Did you guys do any list-making or room rearranging this weekend? Did you do it while your hubby got his laptop on and the baby “helped”? Did you find all sorts of nasty dust bunnies that horrified you behind the furniture? Did your dog whine audibly and try to distract you by bringing in a toy to play with because he was so against the activity?
Psst- See how we made the flower mobile here, refinished Clara’s veneer dresser here, painted and upholstered the bench here, painted the green mirror here, made the curtains here, built the book ledges here, found the capiz shell chandelier here, made the art wall here, painted the walls here, and stamped Clara’s closet here.
Potato, Potahto
I did it. I finally completed Clara’s closet stamping project (you know, the one I started here)! And yes, if you couldn’t tell from the title, I made a potato stamp. It was actually really fun. Don’t roll your eyes. It was. And it was free. In fact this entire project cost me 99 cents since I used one tube of Folk Art Paint in Champagne (a soft and pretty metallic gold color) and two potatoes that we already had (never thought I’d list potatoes as existing DIY materials). As for landing on a pattern, last week I shared how my first idea, a $1 rubber stamper from Michael’s, didn’t work (the rubber stamp pattern was too fine, so it didn’t read at all in person (although in the photo it wasn’t as hard to see):
And then I moved on to a few freehand painted attempts like imperfect horizontal lines, x’s (aka: kisses), and random little rows of dots made by squishing a small craft paintbrush against the wall:
As for my potato stamps, I just tried a few shapes that I did my best to freehand (from a weird little quatrefoil-ish thing to a star and a bee-hive-ish hexagon). As for the bottom right stamp, I saw this on Pinterest (originally from here), and decided to give it a try. I just carved a circle first (using the top of a salad dressing bottle as a guide) and then made little pizza-slice slivers around it to leave the asterisk-like shape.
I also saw this celery stencil idea on Pinterest (originally from here) and gave that the ol’ college try too:
Then it was time to test all of my “stampers” out on paper with the Folk Art metallic paint (in champagne) just to see how they did:
Out of all the potential patterns, the little starburst circle one was our favorite. So off to the closet I went, just to see how it would look on the wall.
I learned that it worked a lot better if I brushed the paint onto the potato with a small craft store brush (so I could remove the excess and prevent globs) as opposed to stamping it into my plate of paint (like you would with a rubber stamper).
Here’s a good shot of how the paint looks really metallic from certain angles. So soft and pretty.
After about an hour I had done the wall with the door on it and about a fourth of the adjoining wall to the left as you face it. Then I had to pause for a Clara nap and the rest of the day got away from me. But she did love the part that I had done once she woke up from her nap:
No worries, I thought. I’ll just finish it tomorrow. But in the morning I realized something that sent me into a mild to moderate potato panic. My stamp had sort of withered overnight. Not too crazy like a raisin or anything, but the whole potato was substantially less firm than it was the day before. More like a sponge than a solid stamp. But I decided to give it a try just to see how it worked out (while holding my breath and crossing my fingers/toes/eyes). My method had to change slightly (since the edges weren’t as flat as they once were, I had to gently rock my wrist back and forth and up and down as I pressed it down to ensure that all of the starburst tips got applied to the wall). But miracle of all miracles it still worked.
So onward I pressed. Literally. I must have pressed that potato into the wall 500 times. But it was surprisingly soothing. I know you’re rolling your eyes again, but there are some projects that are extremely tedious that I’m not a fan of (heck, painting the closet was totally boring) but for some reason I got into a nice little rhythm with my potato and my paint brush so it was kind of nice. Brush paint on, press while gently rocking wrist back and forth, move over a few inches, repeat. Oh and as for my spacing, I just eyed everything, but each stamp is about 5″ away from the next one and I just applied staggered horizontal rows so if you connected the dots it would make a ton of zig-zag chevrons.
I decided as I was stamping to the oldies (yes, I had Pandora on) that it was as good a time as any to think back about the last almost-15 months with the bean. So I sat/crouched/stood in there stamping my heart out and thinking about hilarious blowouts and first words and lost socks and restaurant meltdowns and all the other good/bad/ugly/amazing parenting stuff that has come been flung our way since Clara joined the family. Not a bad way to spend two hours.
And guess what? Once it was dry and I granted Clara some closet clearance, she was so excited! She literally wanted to point to every last shiny stamp that was in there and squeal “stah!” (her version of star).
The total time spent on the project (including various rubber stamper/potato/celery experiments and two installments of stamping) came to around three and a half hours. So worth it for the magical little subtly metallic reading nook we’re on our way to creating.
Next, we added the white shelving systems back in (that we removed before painting):
And finally I loaded in all of her clothes, toys, and blankets. I even tossed down a fluffy faux sheepskin rug from Ikea and some pillows that we already had while adding some of her favorite board books to the little Clara-level corner shelves:
I still want to DIY a beanbag (I’ve pinned lots of tutorials and ideas) but it’s pretty darn sweet in there already. And Clara had some fun taking it for a test ride. I think she likes loves it.
As for John’s impression, this convo ensued:
Me: It’s cool, huh? What do you think?
John: Yeah, it’s really Sweet Sixteen in there.
Me: What does that mean? It’s cheesy? Over the top?
John: No you know… (long pause)… expensive. Like the Louis Vuitton cakes they get. It’s really cool.
Sherry: Huh? (equally long pause) This might be our strangest conversation to date.
I’m so glad we all love it (even if some of us don’t really know how to put that love into words coughJohncough). And even my cheap-o work-with-what-you-have self is kind of shocked at the difference that 99 cents and 3.5 hours made in there (well, more like 5 hours if you count the closet-painting phase too).
Ok, so who’s surprised that I got all old school and made a potato stamp? I totally had flash backs of middle school while doing it. Who out there has stamped a wall instead of just painting or stenciling it? I must say there’s a surprising freedom to it since you don’t have to carefully place the stencil and make sure that there’s no paint on the back of it and that nothing gets smeared or anything. You just eye it and go. And it kind of looks like handmade wallpaper (imperfect, but kind of perfect because of that). This might be one of my favorite solo projects that I’ve done in the new house. Just because it’s from me to the bean with love. And quite possibly because it inexplicably reminds John of an expensive Louis Vuitton cake. Sometimes it’s the little things…
14 Months Of Breastfeeding
Yup, that’s what I did. Well, technically 14 months and three days if you’re really counting. And yup, this really is a post about breastfeeding, so feel free to skip it (you know, if you’re my brother for example). I never thought I’d be writing about it. But I actually get a lot of questions on the subject. And since I blather on about other random things (like cloth diapering) and this blog is really just a way for us to remember things that we might otherwise forget (like paint colors and vacation happenings), I figure that something I did for so long (around 425 days straight) deserved a post about the range of emotions that it elicited. So here we go.
My first emotion: grateful. I was just so thankful it worked. I was acutely aware that some moms try extremely hard but it’s just not possible. I was also pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t as painful as I expected. I’d heard a lot about cracked and bleeding nipples (yes I just typed that) but thanks to genetics or a good latch (or some other random happening) I didn’t really have much pain at all (in the interest of TMI, I also never had sore boobs while prego, so maybe those things go hand in hand?). And I know the whole lack of pain thing might make you want to punch me (it annoys the heck out of my BFF) but I had a pretty frightening birth experience so I guess it’s always something (and not always the same thing) that throws you for a loop as a new mom.
Speaking of the whole birth thing, I was initially really stressed about Clara “taking” to breastfeeding because, due to our complications, I couldn’t nurse her until eight whole hours after she came into this world. I heard trying as soon as possible was the way to go, and I guess the whole scary birth experience had me fearing the worst (there was no baby-on-my-chest-to-snuggle-and-nurse-right-away occurrance, which is definitely what I pictured). But the sweet nurses pretty much just said to give it a try and it was miraculous. Clara got it right away. Such a relief.
As far as emotions go, after “grateful” and “pleasantly surprised” I moved into “exhausted and overwhelmed” territory. Clara was blissfully sleeping for 12 hours each night pretty much from the beginning, waking up for just one or two feedings most of the time (after we got the ok from the doc to let her sleep instead of waking her up to feed every 3 hours since she was steadily gaining weight).
But that meant that during the day she was feeding every two hours like clockwork (I fed her on demand, and at almost exact two hour intervals she screamed and wasn’t happy til she was nursing). So I really couldn’t get much done without having to stop and feed her. Which I actually loved for the bonding and the sweetness and the self-imposed break that it gave me from housework, blogging, and all that other stuff – but it was definitely exhausting and sort of all-encompassing in those bleary I-have-a-newborn months. I always joke that she let me rest at night, but during the day she made me work for it.
And when we went on a week-long family vacation when Clara was just six weeks old I remember sitting upstairs alone with Clara feeding her in a bedroom while everyone else was downstairs having fun together and thinking “I’m going to have to excuse myself and do this about eight times a day while everyone else hangs out – which adds up to 56 feedings that I’ll be doing over the next seven days.” That’s an overwhelming thought. At least it was to me. It was times like this that I actually wished feeding in public (or at least in front of your extended family) was more widely accepted. I tried to use a nursing cover but Clara wouldn’t have it. So up in my room I sat (with occasional visits from John who sweetly recognized that I’d rather be with the group and dropped in to keep us company). Back in these days feedings were pretty slow going (around 15-20 minutes per side for a total of 30-40 minutes spent sequestered). But we still managed to fit in some fun in the sun (or shade since she was so tiny).
I should mention that 1) pumping didn’t agree with me and 2) Clara never took to bottles (or pacifiers for that matter). You win some and you lose some. So every time she fed for the past 14 months it was directly from the source. Which was ok with me since pumping just didn’t work out and thankfully I have a job that allows me to be home with her. But it’s definitely sort of crazy as a concept because for over a year I was never away from my daughter for more than an hour or two. Ever.
But with a face like this, I was ok with that:
Around three months in I really got into the groove though. That’s where I’d characterize my feelings as “content and accepting.” I was happy to still be able to breastfeed and glad that it seemed to suit Clara. She seemed to enjoy it and I knew how to do it effectively and easily enough (in a parked car? check. in a dressing room? check). I even managed to sneak in a taping for the Nate Berkus show, nursing Clara in the green room right before we went on and right after (thankfully it was only a two hour process – or we might have heard her screaming for another feeding from on stage).
I guess I had adapted more to it, and it didn’t feel like as big of a job after I got into the swing of things. And by about 6-8 months old Clara had become a lot more efficient, so feedings were only about 15 minutes total (and sometimes even ten). Interestingly enough, the introduction of solid food at six months old (which Clara loved from day one) didn’t have any bearing on her nursing. She still wanted just as much, just as often. And I was secretly kind of relieved because I worried a bit about my production slowing or even stopping if she suddenly dropped a ton of feedings. But that was not the case.
Up until Clara turned ten months old I was still feeding her every two hours during the day at her insistence (screaming until I nursed her = her insistence). That’s right, for ten months (that’s 300 days) I nursed Clara every two hours (except during the night). I was ok with it, and my doc was ok with it, but I heard from friends that only going two hours between feedings at that age was reallllly often (as in all of my friends were only feeding every 4-5 hours or so at that age). My doc explained that it made sense since Clara was such an unusually solid night sleeper (she segued from waking up for 1-2 feedings in her 12 hour span of night sleep to not waking up at all around 2.5 months in – I know, we’re insanely blessed to have gotten such uninterrupted sleep for such a long block of time). But it did mean not-as-long daytime naps and a whole lot of frequent feedings to “tank up” during her waking hours in exchange for such an awesome night’s sleep. Heck, I’ll take it.
Blissfully, after turning ten months old Clara started stretching her feedings to every three hours, which felt amazing. It’s funny how an extra hour feels like all the freedom in the world. It’s all relative I guess. At this point I was coming into the whole “I love breastfeeding” phenomenon. I still felt grateful to be able to do it, Clara was a thriving happy girl, it was saving us money, it gave me a moment to step away from the computer/paint brush/hammer and connect with the bean, and it helped me get back into my old clothes (even though I don’t think I’ll ever have my pre-baby body again, it’s fine with me because Clara’s so worth it). I should add that I’m a breastfeeding enthusiast when it comes to me and Clara, but I don’t judge anyone else when it comes to what they choose for their family. Whatever works for you & your ducklings = my mantra as a parent in general.
The next speed bump that we encountered was when Clara turned a year old we introduced organic whole milk. The problem? Clara wouldn’t drink it. She still wouldn’t really take a bottle so our doc recommended trying a sippy cup. It worked for water, but she refused to drink milk (and we tried about ten million different sippy cup varieties, tried slightly heating the milk, tried watering it down or mixing it with breast milk, etc). This is when I started fearing that she’d be 21 years old and still addicted to breastfeeding.
Next we tried almond milk at our doc’s advice, and she went for it (we think the thinner consistency seemed closer to breast milk so she was down). And slowly we mixed almond milk with whole organic milk and she made the transition to 100% whole organic milk at around 13 months. Yup, it took nearly a whole month to get her on board with it. She’s stubborn like her momma. Haha. Shockingly, that’s when her feedings dropped waaay down. From around five times a day to just two – once before bed and once in the morning. Which made me feel excited and free but sort of oddly sad at the same time. “My baby’s growing up, and she needs me less” was sort of how I felt. I know that’s not really true, but it’s the best way I can describe the feeling.
By 13 months and three weeks she just wanted a feeding in the morning when she woke up. Clara has always been the boss of this whole breastfeeding thing (since we opted to just do the “on demand” thing from day one), so who am I to argue with the girl? Just one morning feeding opened up a whole new world of evening fun for me and John thanks to his parents offering to babysit (we could see a movie or go out to dinner without Clara after over a year of not partaking in those activities – amazing!). Of course I thought about her the whole time we were out, but I guess that’s to be expected (picture me saying “I wonder what Clara’s doing right now” every ten minutes during our first movie together in over a year).
Two weeks later Clara wasn’t even interested in her morning feeding. Which was sad because that’s the one where we lie down next to each other and relax together. I know I sound crazy, but it was such a sweet way to start the day. To anyone who has yet to try it, nursing on your side while laying down = awesometown (they taught me that move at the hospital thanks to the whole c-section thing). And now it’s over. So my current feelings are sad (because I’ll miss it) but proud (because I can’t believe I breastfed for over 14 months) and grateful (because I know being able to nurse that long or even at all definitely isn’t a given).
So that’s my breastfeeding journey. Off to cry now (and I can’t even blame breastfeeding hormones for the tears). I know, I know, someone with a nickname that won’t stick like $herdog shouldn’t be such a wuss. But it was an awesome/exhausting/amazing/tiring/surprising journey that I’m grateful to have experienced. Love you baby girl. Even if you’re over me my boobs.
