Thursday, December 17, 2009

Epistle to Nicky

Dear Santa,
I would like you to know that I have been very good this year. I am trying to listen & not talk back, & I am willing to try new things to eat.

For Christmas this year I would like:
1. McQueen racing set
2. Blue Nerf sword & a yellow Nerf blaster
3. Lego Indiana Jones video game
4. Drum chair
5. New cube
6. New kitchen set
7. New bracelet - a purple one
8. A suitcase
9. A new toy Smoe kitty pet

Those are my ideas. I would appreciate anything you bring me. Merry Christmas to you and Mrs. Claus.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Fear the Reaper

Kirk is mildly obsessed with death at the moment. I’m not really sure if this is typical at age four and a half or what. I don’t think he truly understands the concept of mortality, but he definitely knows that people and things die and it freaks him out. So he talks about it. A lot.

I’m not entirely sure what started it all. My sole remaining grandmother has been on a steep and steady decline for the past ten months so there’s definitely been frequent conversation about aging. At one point a few months ago Kirk told me that he wants to be a dad (his standard answer to “What do you want to be when you grow up?” is “A Daddy.”) but he doesn’t want to be a grandpa because he doesn’t want to get old. And then he invented the dying machine.

Dying Machine

We were flabbergasted when he first came up with this concept. He announced out of nowhere that you need to take a rock and smash your dying machine so you can’t die. Apparently everybody has their own dying machine, though there’s still some confusion on the subject. He’s worked through the mythology pretty thoroughly with his dad, dictating the drawing to his father, so you’d have to ask Mr. b for more details but I believe the dying machine is in the center of the Earth. I’m not sure why more people haven’t smashed theirs. Maybe you forget about it as you get older and smashing it just no longer seems to be a top priority?

Friday, December 04, 2009

Teeny Weany

Nearly everyone I’ve asked about weaning has said to go slowly and start by just skipping one nursing session a day. That seems logical but which one do I skip? If Ronnie doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night – which is very rare – then I’m ready to burst when I get up in the morning. So I’d have to pump if I didn’t pull her out of her crib before I left for work. When I get home we both want to spend time together. I have already been avoiding going straight into nursing mode the second I walk in the door so maybe that was me unconsciously skipping a session. But I do feed her as soon as we’re both done with supper. And then she nurses on and off all evening long, well into bedtime. It’s not a case of actual “sessions” but rather a continuous switching from Boob One to Boob Two and back again until she’s in her crib for the night.

Yesterday it dawned on me: skip one of my daytime pumpings. I pump twice a day at work, once mid-morning and once in the afternoon. But I’ve been noticing a slow decline in my milk supply in the last few months since Ronica has been on solid foods. I’m bringing home maybe two or even three ounces less each day compared to how much I brought home when I first came back from maternity leave. Now, I’ve never been one that tries to supply enough breast milk for all daytime feedings when I’m away. That’s just too much work and literally unnecessary. Ronnie’s had formula at daycare since she started and when Mr. b started staying home with the kids one of the first things we did was buy formula for him to use during the day. So I’m not at all concerned about how much milk I’m pumping. Which makes this the perfect first (conscious) step towards gradual weaning. I pumped only one time today, just after lunch. I felt a bit full but not as uncomfortable as I have been after lengthier periods of time. I think this should be a nice way to ease into it. I don’t plan to even consider more active weaning until at least after the New Year.