Breast Feeding Where?

Breastfeeding your baby is the best. Its cheap, economical, ecological and the perfect food....absolutely individualized for your baby. Just how the heck are ya gonna do it in public?

Simple.....my fav tip to give moms in my breast-feeding classes is this....find a dressing room, and duck in. Perfect little safe havens for feeding your baby, even changing your baby. Its private, clean, there is usually a bench or chair to sit on, and most importantly...NOT A BATHROOM. Just plain YUCK! blah.

Now, in the event you see this blue sign....well you are in luck. Its a breastfeeding friendly sign, and means that it has a place for you to nurse. And its not a dingy stank toilet seat! I wish we would see more of these signs!

Until then....a dressing room is a great little spot. Happy feeds!

The Techno Trap

LOL....remember these? Yes, my first cell phone. I HATED it...(big emphasis on hate). It was large, ginormous actually...purse sized. It came in a case and weighed about as much as a small brick. I simply refused to carry it. I wondered why on earth would I possibly need to talk to anyone while out at the grocery store, or getting gas or out to dinner. Ridiculous!

(Fast forward 16 years now...2009) Yes, I succumbed to a cell phone, and not only have one, but have it always "on duty". I can slip it in my jeans pocket! Sigh. I wish life were simpler now. I no longer can sit uninterrupted at dinner, or in the bookstore. I have this incessant need to "be available" if my kids or family need me. Its become the norm, and I fell victim to it. And sadly, I think there is no return. (longer sigh)

(Flashback to 1977....) My sister and I are home. When oh when is my mom coming back? There is lunch to be made, my sister is bugging me, and I have no one to tell! I am bored. We want to go swimming...etc etc. Hours later my mother blissfully walks in, unaware of the antics at home and unscathed from our turmoil as kids/sisters. Sure, we have lugged out the phone book before to TRY and guess what store she may possibly be in and have her overhead paged....but the chances of finding her are slim. Therefore, my mother simply goes about her business and saunters home. And we survived somehow. Imagine.

The good-old days:)

Happy {heart} Day:)

Happy Valentines Day. Be Sweet. Love your babies. Kiss your husband. Smell pretty. Smile. Eat chocolate. Take pictures. Make paper hearts. Love.

Old Jammies

Arent we all so very sentimental? How many little bags or boxes of infant clothes have been saved and savored? I know that I just am weak-in-the-knees when it comes to things my children have used and loved and have out-grown. So one day...oh so long ago, I came across a wee teeny sleeper that all three of my boys wore. It was probably the only thing the three of them did share, as boys can be rough on their clothing. Anyways, this sweet baby blue terrycloth sleeper was just precious and I had to remake it into something to keep forever. So, the idea came to me....make a little soft toy.

As you can see, its a simple triangle. A triangle shape is easy for babies to hold and the (freshly washed of course) terry cloth is nice and tactile for lots of stimulation when teething. I made a triangle out of the body of the sleeper and the back. Obviously the back of the sleeper has more whole fabric. Then I took the cute little feet and legs of the sleeper and they became the most obvious...bunny ears. I simply sewed the "ears" in place at the top of the triangle, then put the triangles right sides together and stitched all three edges, leaving a small opening for turning and stuffing.

After turning right side out i stuffed it with some fiberfil, leaving it soft and squishy and i placed a little bell wayyyyyy up safely inside the bunny and I stitched the opening closed. I used a water soluble marker and drew on a face that made me happy: a sleeping bunny face, and stitched it with floss.

Thats it. What other uses can you find for well loved garments instead of stuffing them in a box? Whenever I see this little bunny, now nestled in my hutch, I think of how small my boys were and how their now HUGE feet used to fit snuggly in those "ears".

The Rain

Life, itself, is an unfair tryst if anything. We live and breathe while trusting that we have a plan. Then that idea morphs and changes into something we cannot utter. Such is the loss of a child. Losing a child comes in many venues and subtleties. It never comes with a warning. Mothers cling to a hope unlike any life preserver. We grasp it and let go only when it is the only option left. I have lost a child. She is albeit still alive, but she is lost irrevocably. I consider it the same. A heart stops in any circumstance. A mothers heart is forever changed.

As a labor and delivery nurse, I too have had to partake in loss while caring for a family. My heart breaks every time. My breath stops. Life's metronome beats slower and each minute melts into the next without a care that we are shattered and fractured. Loss is loss. I have never experienced loss without that painful tunneling of memory and circumstance.

I read today of a family whose precious 1 year old daughter died recently. Freshly diagnosed with cancer, and their hope all raw and exposed on their blog, only for the baby to lose her brief and exquisite battle with life. I cant wrap my head around why people endure such horrific loss as that of a child in their lives. I cant see the sense when so many evil and diabolical people rule and infest the earth. I do not know why God allowed my oldest daughter to disown me and my family, all in the name of a divorce and alienation and lies. But I know God allowed it. He allows us to lose. While we grip as tight as we can and beg for a reason. And all I know is that He sees the future. He remembers the past. Only God can bring healing and steer us in the direction that will, unbelievably be in our best interest.

That doesn't remove or pacify the sting however. Gods sovereignty does not make me understand why such innocence is lost. I struggle everyday with the palpable loss of my child. I vividly remember and feel the slap of death when a patients baby is taken away. I cry large, fat, slippery, gray tears every time I become a part of the death process with a family. Because I know pain, I also know God is there. Somewhere He is placing a warm blanket over us, and drawing us into his bosom to comfort us. We fight and struggle because we feel the need to know why, but all He asks is for us to let go, and let Him heal us.

I do not know when it happens. I just know that with life comes loss. Motherhood is no exception. Our children may physically be gone or may have left us by choice. Neither is a choice a mother desires. Because we give birth and a part of our soul goes with our child. We are never completely whole again. We heal, time mellows the sting, but the scars remain. And we never, ever forget.

And so we continue to breathe. And live.