Dining Out

We've been taking Mr. Meh out to restaurant for lunch over the last few weekends. So far he's been very good. I guess it's mainly because it's new and there are lots of things to look at and explore. Lots of new sounds, lots of new sites.

On Saturday, two weekends ago, we went to a Cuban restaurant of Rockville Pike. Nothing fancy, but it was his first real time out. (We took him to restaurants a few times when he was very little and not really aware of his surroundings -- ie he was asleep).

That Sunday we went to IHOP. Again, nothing fancy. He first sat in his carseat, where he eventually got fussy. Then we transferred him to a high chair. He loved it. Looking around the things, trying to grab things off the table: napkins, coffee creamers, straws, etc.... It was fun.

Then on Sunday, Mr. Meh went to the city for the first time. We look him to Georgetown. We first went to several stores. (My Mom and I took r. Meh had gone to a mall about 2 months ago. He loved it.) Then we went to Daily Grill, a nice, kind of upscale restaurant. Since it was lunch time and he really hadn't eaten much at home at his 11 am meal, I took a jar of food and a bottle of formula for him. This was my first time doing that.

While we waited for our food, I fed him his jarred turkey and vegetables. He chowed it down with out a problem or a mess (and I had forgotten to take a bit along). He wasn't that keen on the formula later. He just wasn't thirsty. But he was so good at the restaurant -- looking around, grabbing things, such as paper menues, etc. ....and dropping everything on the floor. On Andy's side of the floor.

When we were leaving an older couple who was seated behind us actually commented that they had been admiring our child because he was so good. (At one point I had gotten up to go to the bathroom. So he had turned around to look for me and in the process had started babbling to these people behind us).

Breastfeeding

I've been thinking about this fast approaching end to breastfeeding. Fast approaching because my intention to nurse Mr. Meh until he turn one. Which is in less than 3 months.

I've been really sad thinking about it. It's like a part of my life, my connection with him, my private time with him will be over.

I've also been contemplating when to stop pumping at work. Should I give it up now (since my milk supply really dwindles down by the end of the week), wait until the end of the year, or wait until he turns one.

I think I'll try to go until the end of the year (especially since I'll be home the week after Thanskgiving so that should help things)

But I have to say, now that I've gotten used to giving him formula, I see the advantage of it -- it's very easy. At least now it is. BUt I don't think that formula feeding a newborn would've been easy -- it is still much easier to whip out a boob in the middle of the night for a quick nursing than it would be to prepare a bottle, especially when the baby is crying.

The Milk's Gone

Today, Mr. Meh finished the frozen milk supply. There is nothing left in the freezer. All that's left is the measly 3 oz skinny Medela bottle that I diligenly still pump at work each day.

For some reason, this realization -- that the frozen milk supply -- has been finnished off, makes me sad. I'm not sure why. Maybe because he's growing up. And maybe because I don't see him enough and barely spend any time with him during the week. A lousy one hour, between 6 am and 7 am each morning, when I'm still half asleep. He's in bed by the time I get home from work.

I know I should focus on the positive. He's 9 months and 2 weeks old. I should be proud that I've made it so far (until this week) without any formula. He was exlusively breastfed for 9 months, while I was working. I need to remember that it's a big thing that I've made it so far.

But having to introduce formula now is hard. He's tried it over the weekend, while we were away. (Our first time away from him.) He liked it. Chugged it down without missing a bit. (Earlier last week, we tried giving him the formula in a sippy cup. He didn't like it. We weren't sure whether it was the sippy cup or the formula. Turns out it was the sippy cup. I have to admit it's much larger and cumbersome looking that the Medela bottles he's gotten used to)

I guess it makes me sad -- my little baby growing more independent and needing me less. I'm figuring out these thoughts as I'm writing them. They are surprising me. Who knew I had such a sentimental baby bone in my head.

I guess breastfeeding will eventually have to stop. I guess this week is the beginning of the weaning period. My goal has been to breastfeed him for a year -- if things worked out. (I focused on reaching a three month breastfeeding milestone -- 3, 6, 9 and 12 months.) I'm almost there. Three more months.

I'll continue breastfeeding him at night and in the morning (He's so cute when he nurses. It must be very comforting and yummy for him).

The question is do I continue pumping at work -- to produce this miserly 3 oz bottle. Is it worth it? On one hand, pumping can be quite a nuissance some days, and my nipples have had it. On the other hand, I've made it so far, shouldn't I try to reach a 1 year mark. Does it matter?

I need to give it up at some point, but what is that point?

1st birthday invite

Yesterday, Mr. Meh got his first birthday invite. He's been invited to celebrate his friend's (well actually my friend's baby's) first birthday.

The invitation arrived in the mail and was addressed to Mr. Meh.

It was the most thrilling piece of mail we received that day.

It's so exciting. It probably sounds so corny, but it's so true. And no matter how much we (that is I) are trying to resist becoming the cliche parents (you know, the ones hovering over the baby, being too involved and attentive, that is really annoying to the rest of the world) we already are. And we love it.

Then today, Mr. Meh received a second birthday invitation to celebrate a 3-year old's birthday, on the day before the birthday above.

So exciting!!!!

Pumping on the Turnpike

I set a new personal pumping record over the weekend. We took a weekend trip up to Saratoga, NY to attend a wedding. Our first trip without the baby. (Being without the baby is a totally another story).

I'm still nursing and pumping once a day, so I wasn't going to let this weekend dry up my milk. Instead I pumped -- some 4 times a day. This in turn required to pump --- on the NJ Turnpike.

I first thought I'd give it a trial run while we were resting at a rest stop. So while Andy was out smoking, I pulled out the pump -- the big black, not-so-pump in style, Medela bag and balanced it on my knees. It was hooked up to the battery pack that came with the bag (I had my doubts whether 8 AA batteries required for it to work would really do their job, but they pulled through) I pulled out one boob -- as this was supposed to be a test pump -- and assembled the pump on the brest.

Pumping work. I was sitting in the car, in a parking spot facing the turnpike, away from the rest stop, with one boob trapped in the pumping contraption.

Then Andy returned. And was mortified.

"What are you doing? Put a shirt over you......."

I didn't take into account that the spot we were parked in was facing a nice grassy patch (between the parking lot and the road), where the rest of the people walked their dogs for their restroom break. Right in front of our eyes. Not to mention that the parking lot was full and people were pulling in and out of the spots adjacent to our car.

"How long is this going to take?"

Pumping takes some time...20-30 minutes on average. Andy was getting restless and more mortified with each passing second.

Now that pumping was in full swing I decided that it would be possible to pump as he was driving. So we decided to leave. Except I couldn't pull my seat belt over the pumping contraption. Instead we waited for me to finish with the left boob. The pilot boob.

Amazingly enough, I filled up an entire skinny Medela bottle. On most work days, I barely get a half filled the last few months. Who knew the battery operated pump would work so well. But would it hold for boob number 2?

After the first boob was taken care of, we decided to leave. I had Andy hold the pump parts while I stowed the bottle in the little ice pack carrier and put on the seat belt.

"Yew! You didn't clean this well," he yelled as some milk from the shield and the pump part he was holding dripped on him.

As if it was easy to clean it up. He was sitting right next to me, watching me pump. (Actually, paying more attention to people and dogs walking around us, ensuring I was covered and not making a scene)

"It ran on my hand and down my sleeve."

"You'll survive," I thought.

As we merged back on the turnpike, I adjusted the pumping contraction to my other boob, still balancing the bag on my knees at 70 mph.

The pump worked. Again, surprisingly enougth, I squeezed out an entire skinny Medela bottle.

I got to admit I was quite proud of myself.

On the way back from Saratoga, I was a pro. I pumped both boobs simultaneously, just like I do at work, while we were driving down the turnpike at 70 mph without any problems. I actually timed to start pumping some 30 miles away from the next service area, so we could stop and rest and I could stow the milk in the ice pack container which was in the trunk of the car.

Pumping on the turnpike definitely works, but is it done in style?

And if any passing truckers got a front row gloance at my trapped boobs, who cares.