MOOOOOOOOO!

Ah pumping...the task that takes up my precious working minutes and makes me a prisoner in my classroom. The monotonous rhythm of the motor, the endless washing of parts, the sitting and praying that I make enough to replace a meal and the effort that it takes to pump several times a day, is a mother's love.  A lot of love.  I'm counting down to the last day of school for several reasons but one biggie on my list is 2 1/2 months of limited pumping and feeding my babe the old fashioned way.

One of the women who led the mom's group I attended told us that we may be able to produce more milk if (while pumping) we look at pictures of our babies and smell a piece of their clothing.  I often wonder if this helps my production or simply makes me look like an idiot as I sit in my rocker, sniffing my baby's hat and smile away at his cute little pictures on my phone.  Either way, it's a small part of my day that I get to spend with Porter.  I have about a million videos of him and I don't mind one bit watching them over and over and over again.

This actually  happened to me last month.  I pumped 12 ounces at
work and left the milk in my school bag overnight.
I about died when I found them Saturday morning, warm, spoiled
and unusable and had to dump them down the drain.
 I shed a tear over this. So sad. 

During these pumping, hat sniffing, video watching sessions, I often think back to the "olden days" and how much pumping must have sucked.  I plug myself into my hands free pumping bra (so attractive, let me tell you) and let electricity do all the work for me.  Back in the day, women had to do this by hand?! How awful! It's bad enough when I forget the hands free bra and have to hold the suck-cups but to actually have to work for it? Pure torture.

I'm not even sure how this thing worked,
but I'm glad I didn't have to use it!

I think pumping in my classroom is perhaps a bit more nerve wracking for me than it should be for a couple of reasons.  1. I have my own room, with one door and one lock that I'm in charge of- or so I thought. As it turns out, all office staff, librarians and custodians share the key to my locked door. My very first day back at school, I was milking away, in the privacy of my own room when my lock turned and my door opened.  In desperation and fear all I could manage to squeak out was, "What?! Wait!" The person behind the door must have heard the terror in my voice, shut it and never admitted themselves to me.  I am now extremely jumpy when any noise comes from the doorway.  I swear, my milk making production must be less than what it could because I sit under a receiving blanket and try to ease the butterflies in my stomach for the 20 or so minutes, praying no one walks in.

And 2.One day, after a pumping session I went to my door only to find that I had forgotten to lock it. Mind you,  I work with 11 year olds.  They are always forgetting jackets, lunches, soccer balls, notebooks, pencils and their extra PE shoes in our room.  By the grace of God, no one forgot anything during lunch, no one walked in to get their forgotten chips and no one saw me hooked up to my very large, very scary, milk sucking suction cups, sniffing a baby hat and pumping away.

Hands free bliss?! This chick obviously has never had anyone
walk in on her. 

I'm leaving Daniel and Porter alone for Memorial Day weekend.  My cousin, Stewart, is getting married in San Francisco and I'm meeting my cousins for a weekend of family, fun... and pumping.  Not having my baby with me means that I will have to pump.All. The. Time. I traveled last weekend with Audrey, who left Vivian at home and I saw my weekend flashing before my eyes.  She was constantly hooked up to her machine, hiding under her hooter-hider on the airplane, on the drive to Napa, before we left for dinner, during appetizers, after dinner, and during dessert...well, not quite that often, but it sure did feel like it! Ug, anything  for my baby, I suppose!

And it is for these reasons alone that I am counting the FIVE days left of school! God bless summer break!

My favorite time of day

My favorite part of my work week day is when Grammy sends me pictures of my baby.  I love how they each capture a part of his personality as well as bring a huge smile to my face.  I also love that I get to be a small part of their day and know that they are having a wonderful time together. 

His hands are always- I mean ALWAYS in his mouth!

If his hands aren't in his mouth, he is picking at his clothes and attempting to put them in his mouth. I love that belly so much!

This was taken before he learned to roll over from his back to his tummy, which he officially did for the first time last weekend.  He now wakes himself up in the middle of the night because he's on his tummy and can't roll back over! Trust me, it's middle of the night torture for us all.  We call can't wait until he realizes that sleeping on your tummy is much more comfortable than on your back!

I could look at him sleep all day.  He's so peaceful and beautiful.  It takes everything I have not to pick him up and snuggle his sleeping little body. 

Now that he has great head control, he loves his tummy time and he LOVES looking at his reflection in the mirror (he must take after me!).

Another one of my favorite parts of the day is when we are in the kitchen together before work.  He sits in his very masculine pink Bumbo chair and watches me cook an egg every morning.  It's these few minutes that we have alone every morning that I will miss when he is mobile and doesn't want to watch me cook.  We sing songs and laugh laugh laugh. 

Baby P just learned what his feet are and loves to play with them - who needs toys when you have 10 verrrryyy long toes to entertain you! Good thing sock season is almost over, these suckers hardly ever stay on anymore.

\

I mean, how cute is a naked baby?  It's even cute when he pees all over me, which happens quite often these days!

One more week of text message pictures of my baby boy and then SUMMER BREAK STARTS! I can't wait to have 2 1/2 months with my little man, we're going to have so much fun together!

Walking Zombie!

If you know me well, you know that I am the type of person that (pre-Porter) went to bed between 9:00-9:15 every night.  If Daniel and I were at your house on a weekend around this time, I usually borrowed a pair of yoga pants, curled up in your bed, and waited for him to wake me to go home. I needed  9 hours of sleep or I could not function the next day.

When Porter was born I was a sleepless mess.  Every day for the first month of his life I took a nap.  I physically couldn't function if I didn't get one.  I would arrange visitors around my nap schedule and if for some strange reason I didn't get one on a particular day, I would cancel.  It was horrible.

Fast forward 18 weeks...he's sleeping much better and although I still go to bed at 9:00, I still consider myself a walking Mombie! Gone are the days of uninterrupted sleep and a 6:10 alarm.  Hello are the days up putting pacifiers in at 11, 2:30, feeding at 4:00 and pacifying again at 5.  Hello are the 5:30 alarm clocks and the showering at lightning speeds because little P is up again and starving.  These days, 6:00 is sleeping in on a Saturday and staying up until 10:00 is considered my last call.

Recently, my friend Nicole, who's little boy, Otis is two days younger than Porter, sent me an amazing email.  It was just what I needed to tell me what was happening with Porter's sleep habits and why.  It's amazing how the human body forms, grows and changes...

Over the fourth and fifth months, non-REM (i.e. deep sleep) increases as the pineal gland starts to secrete more and more melatonin, meaning your babe will sleep more soundly than she did as a newborn. On the downside, it also means that she'll be more ALERT at the end of each sleep cycle, more like an adult. The catch is that adults know how to get themselves back to sleep in the middle of the night ;infants usually don't. Hence, the "partial arousals" they experienced between sleep cycles as newborns (and probably fell right back to sleep without anyone noticing) may well turn into full-on wake-up-crying arousals.

Next on my list is to let him "cry it out."  I know this will hurt me more than it will hurt him, but this no sleep thing is killing me.  K. I. L. L. I. N. G. M. E. I would pay any amount of money for 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Basically, Daniel and I need to batten down the hatches, gear up, lock and load and get ready for a few nights of hellish sleeplessness.  I'll let you know how it goes!

This is SO me in the mornings.  

And me in the afternoons!