Multitasking

  • opened a Go-Gurt for Maddie (most difficult thing, EVER)
  • ate breakfast, lunch and dinner
  • fell asleep
  • put on a full face of makeup (no simple task)
  • made a shopping list
  • talked on the phone
  • had an argument
  • read a book
  • colored with Maddie
  • fixed her hair
  • Tweeted
  • picked up a spilled glass of water off the ground and set it on the coffee table using only my feet
  • answered the door
  • typed out this post

These things have all been accomplished while nursing Jack.

I kind of feel like Kramer in that one episode of Seinfeld, where he installs a garbage disposal in his shower so he could prepare food in there and waste less time. Every time I pick up a magazine to read or start eating a bowl of cereal while Jack is stuck on there, I can’t help but think of Kramer rinsing the lettuce.

Sometimes you just have to get creative with your time saving techniques!

More About Chesticles

A follow up to this drama-filled post I wrote back in January.

A note to the people on Facebook who pop on over here every once in a while, but don’t necessarily care to read about the status of my working boobs: Skip this one.

Once upon a time, I had a perfect pair. They were perky, full of life, and looked flipping amazing in every top I owned with little to no effort. You all know the whole bend-over-tuck-in-wiggle-push-up bit, right?  I NEVER HAD TO DO THAT. They were that cute.

Then along came this…

mrspriss_6 months pregnant_baby belly

…and with my transformation into that behemoth of a woman, my boobs became beastly. Gargantuan. Terrifying… yet, still strangely awesome in their own huge way.

THEN:

mrspriss_newborn_maddie_post partum

The arrival of Maddie brought them to incredible new lactating heights. And weights (probably about 5lbs each at this point, if I had to guess). That one you see there rivaled the size of my newborn.

I nursed Madeline for three months before I gave up (pumping at work became my own personal hell), and the downward spiral began. My boobs became a young 23 year old woman’s worst nightmare — small, saggy, lifeless and anything but cute.  My bra size seemed to decrease weekly, which was utterly depressing.  That wouldn’t have even be so bad if they would have just FIT into a bra without trying to wiggle out and say hi to everyone constantly.

Enter Summer, 2009. I lost all the baby weight! I was supposed to be able to wear tank tops and sun dresses and have hot, new mom cleavage!  Sorry, sister, not happening this year.

Quite frankly, I was pissed at life.  I know, I’m seeming a bit dramatic… but for someone who’s had her share of body-hating issues, seeing the one area I never had a problem with turn to complete crap was a little tough.

(Bipolar activity incoming…) Not all was lost though, miraculously! A month or two ago, I started noticing a positive change. I had a mom friend tell me this would happen, but I didn’t really believe her until it did.  They were actually starting to behave like good little girls. They weren’t flopping all over the place like they used to, and I could actually stand to look at them for more than two seconds without wanting to gouge my eyes out. They’re still far from what they used to be, but the good old 34C’s are back. That’s progress.

So here’s another bit of newish mom wisdom I’ve gained in a nutshell: They get big, they get bigger, they get HUGE and terrifying, then they look like crap for a while… but none of it lasts forever. They’ll be sort of cute again one day.

Waste Not…

The other night I was rummaging through my nightstand in search of some lotion. See, this is one of my weird rituals. I absolutely can’t go to sleep until I put lotion on my elbows and feet.

Anyway, for the life of me I could NOT find my lotion. I was already in bed with the lights off and I didn’t want to get back up again, so I did what any other thinking person would do it my situation…

lansinoh… slathered on some of the old leftover nipple cream from when I was nursing that I found in the drawer.

Call me lazy, gross, disturbed, whatever… but I am a flipping resourceful genius. I woke up the next morning with some of the smoothest heels and elbows EVER.  And the best part? If your baby decides they want to suck on your foot for whatever reason, it’s completely safe for them to do so.

I know. Awesome.

Dude. Breastfeeding. It works.

Antibodies that fight off illness.
Special bonding time.
Cheaper than formula.

Those are all wonderful reasons to breastfeed, don’t get me wrong. But seriously — after all my boobs have endured over the past 3 months, I deserve a little something right?

Well holy size 8’s, Batman! It’s paying off.

Obnoxious bragging incoming…

Somehow I managed to lose almost 45 pounds! And I ate 3 cupcakes last night, I’m not even lying. That means I’m a little under 10 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight. HALLELUJAH.

And while I’m at it, let me just say that Madeline has now been sleeping through the night (10 hours straight) for the past two months. Sleep deprived mothers, you may curse and shake angry fists at me now.

I am so blessed.

But still I say, Mama needs a new pair of boobs. And that’s not changing anytime soon.

Oh, the Joys of Jiggly Jugs and other Silly Stories

(this is not a Dr. Seuss book, just to clear that one up.)

On Tuesday night I was catching up with my hairdresser after not seeing her for a year and a half. The girl is adorable and hilarious and is the only one I trust in the world to bring me back to blonde (did I mention that? I’m going blonde again?).

Anyway, two minutes into our conversation we realized that we both had baby girls within the past few months. Craziness. After 2 hours of laughing about all the things people so conveniently forget to tell you about being a mom and breastfeeding, I left feeling like I finally found someone who got it. I also felt a need to share these things with all of you, since a few of you have mentioned the baby fever that has been attacking your uteri (no need to Google it… I already checked,  haha).

Things I Wish I Knew Three Months Ago

  • When your milk doesn’t come in right after your kid pops out, don’t freak. When it does come in, again, DON’T FREAK. They will be huge. They will be hard. They will hurt like a mofo. It gets easier after about 3 days.
  • Nip carnage will ensue. Keep a large stash of Lansinoh and slather that stuff on at least 300 times a day. You’ll want to keep those puppies in working order for those 10-12 feedings a day. MUAHAHAHAAAA YOU WILL HAVE NO TIME FOR ANYTHING ELSE BUT YOUR STARVING BARRACUDA BABY! CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP OWW.
  • When you are running late, sometimes you are forced to multitask. Examples include feeding your baby while endorsing paychecks, putting on eyeliner or eating pancakes, all of which provide a hilarious, yet disturbing visual for your husband. Note: Keep cameras hidden.
  • Do not assume the loud “REEE-OOOO, REEE-OOOO” of your breastpump will keep random people from barging in on you with your jubblies exposed. I’m telling you, pumping at work will be the death of me. I’m not kidding when I say I was walked in on 4 times my first week back because I don’t have a lock. Mortified? A little bit. Make a sign… a big one.
  • Get a great, massive, supportive bra. After each of those 10-12 feedings (muahaha…), your ladies are a slightly… less firm than usual, and a little thing I like to call The Bounce Factor comes into play. It draws attention (the awkward kind) if you don’t have them firmly strapped in.
  • Tell your husband ahead of time to be prepared to be a big boy and share for a few months. You know what I’m talking about.
  • Also prepare the men in your life for bottle feeding. I say ‘men’ because most women know this if they have gone through it. Be perfectly clear that under no circumstance is it acceptable to dump an ounce or two of perfectly good milk down the drain! My heart hurts as I am reliving those few times where Madeline didn’t drink the whole bottle, and the remaining milk was dumped. Fellow pumpers, you know how much work that one ounce was, right? That was like 10 minutes worth! Write it in permanent marker on the bottles if you have to.

Do you all have anything to add?  Have any warnings for me as my girl is nearing the 3 month mark?