A Dispatch From The Front: Further Oberservations On Motherhood

In about twenty minutes, I will have been a mum for one whole month.

If this were a normal mother's blog, this next space would be full of how much life has been changed, cute anecdotes about things the baby did and how being sleep deprived is funny and fun.

I am glad this is not a normal mother's blog!

Life has gone on at the Stoat's Nest with remarkably few ripples. Yes, there is an extra person here full time, and that person demands constant food -- apart from that, Baby Stoat isn't too different from the cats. He likes cuddles, sleeps a lot, wakes me up at night, poops inappropriately (sorry, Christian!), has sharp nails and occasionally does cute things. When we first brought him home, the same people who delighted in regaling me with tales about how pregnancy was going to get so much worse (it didn't) took great pleasure in telling me how much life would change. Like the pregnancy, I keep waiting for these changes and, as life settles into a routine, can only hope it's just as much their need to juxtapose their own crappy experiences onto my relatively placid ones as it was during pregnancy.

Being that I am one month in, here are a few further meandering observations on motherhood that have occurred over the past few weeks:

-Babies are psychic and even a calm Baby Stoat somehow knows it's time to start making stoaty little "I want food!" squeaks just as I get cozy under the duvet again.

-Breastfeeding is aargh. I'll probably be crucified by rabid La Leche League-ers and Natural Mamas carrying flaming torches and pitchforks for making that statement, but it's true. It may not be aargh for magical women who have perfect boobs, perfect babies and who own a pet unicorn, but I have yet to meet these women (probably because I don't go to La Leche meetings). Everyone else I know has had some form of problem -- tongue tie, preemies who won't feed, excessive weight loss (for the baby), colic...This isn't to say I haven't breast fed -- Baby Stoat is getting breast milk, but it is through my tireless devotion to a nipple shield, a breast pump and heavy antidepressants that I can even manage this at all. Baby Stoat is tongue tied in a way the paediatrician refuses to recognize (so correcting it will be at our own expense), he cannot get enough milk using the nipple shield so I *still* have to pump while a hungry baby cries, I am the wrong shape for many "traditional" breast feeding positions and I have raging D-MER. A lesser woman would guzzle more Wellbutrin and buy stock in Enfamil, which is pretty tempting at times. I am persevering despite the panic attacks, pain and continual need to be milked using a professional grade breast pump because not breastfeeding makes one into a social pariah -- all so Baby Stoat can, as a teenager, remind me that he didn't ask to be born. ;)

-Breastfeeding does let you get more sleep. It also burns two Hostess cupcakes worth of extra calories a day. Maybe I'm betraying the sisterhood by admitting this, but my reasons for sticking with it may not be entirely altruistic.

-Baby nails are sharp. Ow.

-Baby manuals are designed to be helpful and impart guilt at the same time.

-Breastfeeding manuals are also designed to be helpful while imparting more guilt than a room full of elderly Catholic nuns.

-Thinking I was going to be able to balance working and parenthood without the help of a full time nanny/Daddy Stoat/grandma was ambitious, to say the least, and Baby Stoat isn't even that demanding.

-A "travel system" is cool but I am looking forward to $15 umbrella strollers.

-It's tough to worry about wee now, except when it is squirting all over the freshly painted walls. You may also want to be careful when sitting on our sofa, too.

-Six weeks is a long time.

Now I must return to gazing adoringly at Baby Stoat...happy birthday, little man. <3