Friday, December 14, 2012

Rather Be Running

When my youngest son was 3 years old, I made the decision to become a stay-at-home mom.  I thought I'd have all the time in the world to accomplish those chores that I had been putting off.  I could organize all my pictures and put them into albums for each of my kids. I could paint the inside of my house.  I could weed out the storage room and get rid of stuff that has been accumulating over the years. Maybe have that garage sale - 'the one and only'.  And............I might be ready for Christmas before December 24th.

It's been 11 years since then and am now asking myself 'what have I accomplished in that time?' I did paint the inside of my house that first year and now need to start over.  I did have that 'one and only' garage sale, but things have piled up again.  Pictures still not organized and put into albums.  And........every year during the month of December, I am still running around like a crazy person.

I guess the reason I began running ten years ago is because it took me away from having to do those chores that I absolutely detest.  I would rather subject myself to the long grueling hours of running while training for a marathon than bring myself to accomplish house hold tasks.  (You do need an excuse so you won't feel so anxious about not getting things done.)

Now with only 10 days before Christmas.......... I'm still not ready!  Gotta get shopping - but I'd rather be running.    

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Not About Breast Feeding

My blog title does not refer to breast feeding in any way.  I personally am not a fan of that.  In fact with my first two children, I had the doctors dry me up while I was still at the hospital.  I often felt like such a minority in that I chose not to breast feed. This was back in the late 80's early 90's when society began to push breastfeeding on you.  I felt guilty sometimes when I talked with breast feeding mothers. They would gloat about how wonderful it was to breast feed.   They talked about how much they loved bonding with their baby, and best of all, you don't have to get up in the middle of the night to heat up a bottle.  (OK, I admit that part would have been nice.)  They said small breasts produce as much milk as large ones, so that shouldn't be my excuse.  That wasn't my excuse - My excuse was................ I DID NOT WANT TO BREAST FEED. PERIOD.

I felt I bonded just fine with my first two babies, and they were very healthy.  My husband did not really want me to breast feed either.  He wanted to be able to help with the feedings. (At least from the beginning anyway. During some of those middle-of-the-night awakenings, he might have thought otherwise.)  We  had one of those cardboard  'whose turn is it' dials.  It somehow always seemed be pointed to the 'mom's' side.  Then in 1998, my third child was born, and I caved to peer and societal pressure. Since this was the last baby I was planning to have, one of my best friends said it would be my last chance at it.  So I decided to give it a try, and my husband did not object.  WORST DECISION EVER!!!!

My third child was born at the beginning of June.  I was a teacher at the time so had my summers off.  (One of the reasons I went into that field.)  Perfect timing, the baby was born right after school got out.  I said I'd try the breastfeeding thing and commit for six weeks.  I lasted two.  I know many of you would say that I didn't give it enough time, but I hated every minute of it.  It hurt like heck.  I could not bond with my baby when I was so tense and my toes curled up every time I put the baby to my breasts. I thought I was going to go crazy and cringed every time the baby began to cry.  I did have a home health care nurse come for a visit once, but that didn't help either.  I felt like I was such a wimp, but I couldn't believe how much it hurt.  Not just uncomfortable, I could have handled that, but this was more pain to me than the actual child birth.

On the 14th day, the rest of the family went to my older son's baseball game while I took the baby to see the doctor. The minute the doctor walked in the door he saw the distressed look on my face.  When he asked how I was doing, I burst into tears.  He told me that I didn't have to breastfeed, wrapped my breasts, and off I went.  Back at home I sat down in the rocking chair with baby in my lap and bottle in hand.  It was at that moment when I began to bond with this precious little child.  It felt so right. 

So now that I got that off my chest (no pun intended), I can move forward with other posts that I intended for this site.