Connor was in such a great mood this weekend all weekend. I hated to have to be away from him for a baby shower on Saturday, but I have to say, I had a lot of fun at the shower. Nevertheless, when I saw him, it was as though he had not seen me all week, and boy! was he glad to see me. Since he can't walk yet, I crawled on the floor after him, telling him that I was going to get him! and he laughed and tried to flee away from me. So me chasing him and him laughing and trying to get away is a new development.
Today, Corey and I went to another friend's wedding party, and Connor was had a great time (he was invited, too). He's such a blessing. Jason was playing with Connor, and Connor was really enjoying himself with Jason. We also so Joelle, and she was avoiding us from our conversation last Sunday. Oh well. I see that she has issues, and we bring those issues up. So we'll never be friends. I think it's sad, but that's life.
And now Connor is asleep, and I'm back to my super early schedule and won't get to see him tomorrow morning when he wakes up, but I will be there in the afternoon, as soon as I'm able. And I realized after seeing Joelle that like her, I have my issues too, but Connor is not going to have the life that I had.
I often feel like the soldier that is sacrificing himself so that his comrade can go on and complete the mission. And that sums it up pretty well. I won't be able to realize my dreams and be terribly successful, but I can create the conditions so that Connor can. Because I care. About. Everything. And because I do, Connor is going to have the life that I wish I could have.
I was looking at some old pictures of me; pictures from 1972 - 1982. I was thin in 1982. That was the year that I was molested. And then I started eating to hide who I am and what I look like. But there was a picture of me in 1972, and if you remove my hair and put in Connor's, he looks just like me. And I think of my childhood and all of the things that happened; even the bad fashion is an example of my mom's neglect for herself, for me, for myself, for my sister. And I know that because I love Connor and want to help him develop in every facet of his life, he is going to have a life completely unlike my own. Thank God.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Bad Acid Trip
I spent the week obsessing over the the event from last Sunday. I knew that I was in a bad mental space when we went to breakfast last Sunday, but as usual I couldn't just let it go. No, I had to obsess over it until I feel like I understood the situation inside and out, from top to bottom and from every angle that there was to look at it. And what I found was depressing.
I realized that when I went, I was tired of "sniffing the air" to see when/where it was safe to express myself. I wanted to "just be" myself for a change rather than being cautious for how that might affect others. And so I did, and I got my ass handed to me. I was basically having a bad acid trip, acting things out, and having a great old time...until I realized that I was alienating everyone around me. Even Eva was giving me a smirk like...you are a little crazy.
It was really rather scary, actually, because I realized that by "just being myself", I was being exactly like my mom, which is a nightmare realized. I realized that I was being competitive with the other women there, the mom and the mom-to-be, and it was only to feel superior, which is something my mom does ALL THE TIME. So when I realized just how much like my mom I was, I nearly died. The last thing I want to be is like her, but I know I am, too often. Snooty, holier than thou, arrogant, socially maladroit; all of those things fit me to a tee.
You may be thinking; who is this person, and why should I be reading her blog? She sounds like a bitch. And you're not wrong; I am a bitch, but I'm also recovering from an awful childhood and trying every single day to overcome the myriad obstacles that my mother, bless her heart, created for me. Hence, I am unfrozen cavewoman non-lawyer, trying every day to rewrite what was indented in my soul for so long.
I realized that when I went, I was tired of "sniffing the air" to see when/where it was safe to express myself. I wanted to "just be" myself for a change rather than being cautious for how that might affect others. And so I did, and I got my ass handed to me. I was basically having a bad acid trip, acting things out, and having a great old time...until I realized that I was alienating everyone around me. Even Eva was giving me a smirk like...you are a little crazy.
It was really rather scary, actually, because I realized that by "just being myself", I was being exactly like my mom, which is a nightmare realized. I realized that I was being competitive with the other women there, the mom and the mom-to-be, and it was only to feel superior, which is something my mom does ALL THE TIME. So when I realized just how much like my mom I was, I nearly died. The last thing I want to be is like her, but I know I am, too often. Snooty, holier than thou, arrogant, socially maladroit; all of those things fit me to a tee.
You may be thinking; who is this person, and why should I be reading her blog? She sounds like a bitch. And you're not wrong; I am a bitch, but I'm also recovering from an awful childhood and trying every single day to overcome the myriad obstacles that my mother, bless her heart, created for me. Hence, I am unfrozen cavewoman non-lawyer, trying every day to rewrite what was indented in my soul for so long.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
You Drink Your Own Breastmilk - Ewww!
Today Corey and I went to the farmer's market with our (almost) one year old son, Connor. We met up with our friends, Jason, Marlow, Janine, Janine's 15 month old daughter, Sarah, and Eva. Marlow is 6 months pregnant.
Janine mentioned that Sarah still nurses and that she provides her milk. I have to say, I'm a little envious, because I blew my milk supply by my own arrogance. I had been tired of pumping three times a day, and always needing to come home to nurse as soon as I was able to. My nanny said that I didn't have to nurse so often, and so I took that to mean that I only had to pump/nurse twice a day, and in so doing I wiped out my supply. Oops. So now I dry nurse. That said, I still have a lot of milk frozen in the refrigerator that is still good.
When we were talking about Janine, we asked her about whether she froze her breastmilk, which I guess she doesn't do a whole lot of. I mentioned that frozen breastmilk has this awful aftertaste that makes you want to vomit and it tastes like vomit, and Janine, Jason, and Marlow were disgusted: "You mean you taste your own breastmilk?" And to that I say, Yes, but if you froze it, you would understand why. It's not like we're sneaking it into people's drinks, or whooping it up with breastmilk.
"Would you like some soda?"
"No, I'll take the breastmilk, thank you very much"
The downside of frozen breast milk is that (as I've found out), when you thaw it after it has been frozen, it's always a good idea to taste it to see how it tastes. From my perspective as a mom, I don't want to give my baby anything that I wouldn't want to eat myself. And that includes breastmilk. Does it taste good? Then it's good for baby. Does it taste rancid? Then I don't want to give it to Connor.
But all of this was difficult to explain to our friends. They obviously didn't approve of our practice of tasting the breastmilk, and I was surprised that Janine was in the same boat since she nurses. Even though I had a good explanation, it was difficult for me to tell this to them, so we sat, judged by our friends, and not in a good way. And I realized that this is something that I have to learn to overcome.
One of the things I had the misfortune of learning from my mom was only going so far to communicate what I am trying to communicate; and this goes the other way: I have a limitation of what I can take in as well. This showed up when meeting with Marlow, Jason, and Janine today. I saw my mom in myself when I was trying to catch up with the conversation. It's easy to try to attribute this to paying attention to Connor, but I know that I would experience this even if Connor wasn't there. And I see that it is hard for me to say what I need to say, in this case, that there is actually a good reason to taste breastmilk.
I hope next time I can say what I need to say when it's a good time to say it. (Before I do that, I will need to figure out what it taking up my mental energy that prevents me from doing so. More on that in future posts).
And next time I'll extol the virtues of breastmilk and just how yummy it is. It tastes good and is good for you. Yum!
Janine mentioned that Sarah still nurses and that she provides her milk. I have to say, I'm a little envious, because I blew my milk supply by my own arrogance. I had been tired of pumping three times a day, and always needing to come home to nurse as soon as I was able to. My nanny said that I didn't have to nurse so often, and so I took that to mean that I only had to pump/nurse twice a day, and in so doing I wiped out my supply. Oops. So now I dry nurse. That said, I still have a lot of milk frozen in the refrigerator that is still good.
When we were talking about Janine, we asked her about whether she froze her breastmilk, which I guess she doesn't do a whole lot of. I mentioned that frozen breastmilk has this awful aftertaste that makes you want to vomit and it tastes like vomit, and Janine, Jason, and Marlow were disgusted: "You mean you taste your own breastmilk?" And to that I say, Yes, but if you froze it, you would understand why. It's not like we're sneaking it into people's drinks, or whooping it up with breastmilk.
"Would you like some soda?"
"No, I'll take the breastmilk, thank you very much"
The downside of frozen breast milk is that (as I've found out), when you thaw it after it has been frozen, it's always a good idea to taste it to see how it tastes. From my perspective as a mom, I don't want to give my baby anything that I wouldn't want to eat myself. And that includes breastmilk. Does it taste good? Then it's good for baby. Does it taste rancid? Then I don't want to give it to Connor.
But all of this was difficult to explain to our friends. They obviously didn't approve of our practice of tasting the breastmilk, and I was surprised that Janine was in the same boat since she nurses. Even though I had a good explanation, it was difficult for me to tell this to them, so we sat, judged by our friends, and not in a good way. And I realized that this is something that I have to learn to overcome.
One of the things I had the misfortune of learning from my mom was only going so far to communicate what I am trying to communicate; and this goes the other way: I have a limitation of what I can take in as well. This showed up when meeting with Marlow, Jason, and Janine today. I saw my mom in myself when I was trying to catch up with the conversation. It's easy to try to attribute this to paying attention to Connor, but I know that I would experience this even if Connor wasn't there. And I see that it is hard for me to say what I need to say, in this case, that there is actually a good reason to taste breastmilk.
I hope next time I can say what I need to say when it's a good time to say it. (Before I do that, I will need to figure out what it taking up my mental energy that prevents me from doing so. More on that in future posts).
And next time I'll extol the virtues of breastmilk and just how yummy it is. It tastes good and is good for you. Yum!
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