mama confessions : her first bottle

these photos are actually from the second bottle - which she, in true finola style, grabbed and fed herself.

Yesterday I gave Finola her first bottle.
Okay, not really her first bottle.  Dada has been feeding her a bottle on occasion since she was two months, and pretty consistently each night before bedtime since she turned four months.  She's been watched by grandparents and they've fed her bottles.

But I never had.  Only the breast from Mama.

Until yesterday.

Lunchtime.  I was dumping some thawed breast milk into a bottle so Hubby could feed it to her later, and she just stared longingly at it from her high chair.  I just decided it was time.  Time to lose my 'bottle fear.'

Am I being a little overly-dramatic?  Sure!  Some breastfeeding mamas feed their babies bottles and have no issues.   But after my experience with Cormac - giving him bottles/formula from the beginning alongside my breastfeeding and then having the breastfeeding come to a emotional and dramatic halt when he was barely 3-months-old - I have been adamant that I wouldn't do anything to compromise breastfeeding Fin.  It would end on my terms.  When I am ready.

My goal was to breastfeed until she was at least six months old. {You can read the first part of my BF journey with Fin here.} That is one week away.  I am still breastfeeding.  Not yet ready to be fully done...

...but I'm getting there.

So I decided I had to try feeding her a bottle, and then I just did it.  It wasn't traumatic at all.  I fed her while she sat in her high chair (which seems much too big for her) and she sucked it down happily.

Instantly I was reminded that there is still a sweet bond when bottle-feeding.  It's different, but it is still so cool to see their little face happily eating (I get a strange high from seeing my babies eat) and I personally love knowing exactly how much she is consuming.

Shortly after that first bottle both kiddos went down for their afternoon nap, and I sat down to pump.  I am not a big fan of pumping, but I did it so as not to deplete my supply.  (I pumped about half of what she hungrily drank from that bottle...not a good sign!  Or I just have a crappy pump.  Methinks both.) But soon enough I will stop pumping to replace the feedings.  I don't know exactly when...but soon.

So why be done?  I've been encouraged by multiple family members to just keep going.  "Try to go a year!" my big sister advised (She breastfed three, going on four, babies up until a year.)  Others seem confused as to why I would stop unless I have a specific reason, like a long trip away from her, or going 'back to work.'   (Because I guess that makes it 'okay' to stop???)

My reason:  I want to.  Simple as that.  I enjoyed the sweet bonding experience of a new mama breastfeeding her infant.  It has been so, so, so lovely...and I am really proud of myself for doing it six months.  I wouldn't trade my experience for the world.

And yes, I will miss the night-time and early morning feedings, when all is quiet and it is just me and her...but truthfully the other feedings are much less productive and sweet.  Truthfully, they have gotten frustrating.

Breastfeeding has become much more difficult as she's gotten older.  Since this was my first time breastfeeding an older infant I've been learning as I go.  The cradle position I've always used with her is becoming more difficult now that she is basically a huge baby (17 pounds!)  She seems a little uncomfortable, arching her back, punching me, and straining to look at whatever might be making noise in the room (*cough* Cormac) but when I try other positions it is no better.  Only at night does the cradle seem effective, when she is super sleepy anyway.  When she is wide awake she does not care to focus on the breast most times...but would rather twist her neck to look wherever her loud, energetic toddler big brother is.  Usually he is banging something, or "jump-jump-jumping" boisterously on the hardwood floors, or trying to climb up onto the chair with us - all of which is VERY very distracting to both mama and baby.  Sigh.  Trying to convince him to "play quietly by himself" is basically futile.

Plus, I have really no desire to find out what breastfeeding a baby with teeth is like.  Just sayin'.

So there is my confession.  I am ready to be done breastfeeding - soon.  I am happy with my experience.  I am at peace with transitioning.  Slowly, but surely.

g

{the leaf photos}

Our backyard is full of leaves.

Unfortunately, they are ugly and brown.

Still fun for playing in... 

but not great for taking photos of.

Because, you know, as a parent you MUST take those obligatory 'kiddo playing in leaves' photos.

So I ventured off to scope out a nearby park I'd heard was pretty,

and even though we barely got past the playgrounds it did not disappoint.

At least as far as mass quantity of leaves in a color other than grayish-brown.

Baby Fin was pretty easy to photograph.

Now that she can sit on her own I just plopped her down and let her chew on leaves.

Cormac, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the camera.

He refused to even look at me, would not let me place him in a pile of pretty leaves,

but did as boys do -

ran around throwing the leaves raucously in the air

and finding sticks to use as swords.

So here's what I got...

I think our leaf season has peaked and fall is fading to winter...

how about yours?

If not - get out there and take those obligatory leaf photos!

Your kiddos will someday thank you.

Thanks, Mom!

g

strawberry + brie salad

I made this salad because I was inspired by the one I mentioned in this post.
It was so good and I knew I had to have it again.  I love brie, in general - right up there with goat cheese!  However, I had never had it in a salad before, and I have to tell you it is a lovely change from the typical feta I throw in to my normal weeknight salads.  

You will need: 
2 c strawberries, thinly sliced or quartered
brie wheel, cut into very thin wedges - use a little or a lot
1/2 c sliced almonds (I candied mine, but you don't have to)
1 bag of baby romaine
1/2 c dried cranberries
poppyseed dressing
(***you can also add some thinly slice red onion - the original had it and it did add a nice crispness!)

To make:
Pile greens on individual plates or a serving platter and top with all ingredients, arranging brie around on the side.  Add a thinly sliced grilled chicken breast to the top make this your main course.

What is your go-to salad?   Have you ever tried to recreate a restaurant version?  

g

bunny foo foo and fireman mac

Halloween came and went in a flash - and it was a sweet and fun night.
By sweet I mean I ate most of the candy my two-year-old collected ("You won't like that one...or that one...or that one...")  and by fun I mean we wrestled both kids into their costumes, took some pictures, walked around our neighborhood for about twenty minutes, then I had to get back to get baby Fin to bed and Cormac had already unwrapped a sucker and wouldn't take it out of his mouth long enough to say "trick or treat" one more time.

gap bunny costume - $6 used

fireman jacket, five sizes too large - $8 used.  hey, at least he will be able to wear it as a raincoat until he's ten. ;)

plastic hat and ax - $11...which puts me over my $20 limit slightly...but soooo close!

boy with crazy smile and ladies with crazy eyes...and this is before all the sugar

getting a bit antsy

everything is a bit too large

bunny butt!

By the end of the night, there had been no major meltdowns or sugar crashes.   I'll count that as a parenting 'win.' 

g

{halloween memories}

I have fond childhood memories of Halloween.

Our costumes were never fancy.

Always put together from thrift store purchases, 

items we already owned, 

or were worn by older siblings.

Dad always walked with us all over the neighborhood, collecting candy.

This was back when you actually had to walk up to the door and ring the bell and yell trick-or-treat, 

instead of just walk by the parent sitting at the edge of their driveway, chatting with the neighbors and drinking beer, and grab a handful.

Or is that just my neighborhood???

fairy, hobo, crabby bunny and patchwork mouse (???) 

 This was all stuff we already had, thrift store, or, in my case, my sister's old dance costume...

cool dude (??? - not sure but love the avs), dancer, and  cowgirl

I never took a dance class.  Surprising, right?

My baby bro's superman costume below was also worn as pajamas all that winter...

since when did superman wear swim goggles?

This is my older bro and sis and our cousin...

um...methinks my sister needs a diap change.  but could she be cuter???

 ...and me in the exact same Rapunzel(???) dress and wig five years later...looking a little less enthused...

knight, nurse, and disgruntled rapunzel

I adore looking back on these photographs.
This is why taking a million photos of your kiddos throughout their childhood is 100% worth it.
I can't wait to dig the rest out of our basement!

Anyway - 

finally Hubby and I have made it to an stage in parenthood where Halloween is actually fun.

Cormac is now two and actually excited for it.

Sure, we dressed him up the past two years,

and I loved it...

but now he can love it.

Which is a million times better.

This year I was charged with getting both of our kiddos costumes for under $20, which I did almost successfully!

Pics to come soon!

g

surprise date : wine and guns

I shot a gun for the first time on Friday.

I'd like to say it was a really cool experience and I loved it and now am addicted to shooting things.  

But no.

Opposite.

I knew kind of already that I had a gun phobia.  I once burst into tears and had a panic attack when a friend tried to show me an {unloaded} pistol he had purchased.  I wouldn't calm down until he had put it away in its little box and the box itself was out of sight.

However, my sweet hubby didn't know this and decided to plan a secret date.

I love surprises from Hubby so I was pretty excited.

We left the sweet kiddos with the grandparents for the day and started driving to the secret destination.  I of course was guessing the entire time.  Sky diving?  Hot air balloon ride?  Mini golf?  

The morning weather was absolutely gorgeous - frosty, but sunshine and not a cloud in the sky.

Perfect fall day!

We took the scenic route (Dad, you would be proud!) and I was enthralled with the beautiful Kentucky countryside.  A million times I wished we could have stopped to take pictures of pretty tobacco barns and fields...but we had to our destination since we had a limited window to do whatever activity it was we were going to do.

Finally we turned toward Elk Creek Winery, and I was instantly relieved I wouldn't be thousands of feet in the air for anything, but happily on the ground drinking wine.

But we kept driving past the winery until we got to a place called the 'hunt club.' 

That was when I realized our date included more than wine...

but guns as well.

Gulp.

We were going to be shooting clay targets with a 12 gauge shotgun.

I grew up with two brothers who shot guns frequently on our farm, so you would think I would have done this before.  

Nope.  

I had avoided all gun shooting for 32 years...

but now that streak was over.

I knew I couldn't wimp out.

Our first "station" I watched Paul and pushed the buttons to release the clay targets.

Then, at my turn, I skittishly danced around

not wanting to really even hold the gun.

Finally, after asking if the safety was on about a hundred times,

I held the gun as Paul instructed 

(it was just me and him so I could be as 'fraidy cat as I pleased)

and shot my first shot.

I hated it.

It was scary and loud.  

My teeth rattled from the kickback.  

The gun was heavy.

I kept thinking of how easily it could kill someone

and worked myself up into a psychological tizzy.

I burst into tears, but then, after some convincing, 

shot it again.

(we weren't even pulling the targets...there was no way I would hit any in my emotional state.)

Still hated it.

So for the rest of the time Paul happily shot at each station solo.  I took photographs of him shooting - marveling at how he was surprisingly a very good shot - and of the gorgeous scenery on such a lovely autumn day.  I had a fine time riding down the steep hills in the golf cart through the woods and being the designated 'button pusher.' 

Okay, I did try to shoot one more time, two or three more shots.

Ugh.

But my hate had lessened to a strong dislike.

yes, I understand I look ridiculous holding a gun.

So while I wasn't a fan of shooting guns myself, it was still a fun morning.

(Plus, dearest Hubby, I saved us some money on bullets.  

You're welcome.)

+ + + + + + 

Then it was off to the portion of the date I could fully appreciate:

the winery.

We ordered lunch in the beautiful lodge, 

and I had a strawberry and brie salad that was honestly the most delicious meal I've ate in a long time.  All that fresh air and gun shootin' had given me quite an appetite...

...and a thirst!

We did a wine tasting, ate our lunch, walked around the art gallery and talked while drinking a surprisingly good cabernet franc, then ordered another glass of wine to bring out for a stroll through the vineyard.

Nice work, babe.  

You got me to try something new, and I love a new experience once in a while.

Plus, you topped it all off with some wine drinking.  Good man.  

g

why 'two' is not terrible at all

Friday night the hubby was out of town - so I was solo with the babes.

I was kind of dreading it, as it is kind of a bummer to be without your spouse on the weekend, and by 6pm on any night I am ready for a break from the kiddos.

Trying to make the best of it, I declared to Cormac that it was Friday Night Movie Night!  {insert exaggerated enthusiasm used by all parents to try to get their kids who don't understand quite what you are saying to get excited}

"I'm gonna put Sister to bed, then we are going to get in our jammies, make popcorn, watch Cars, and snuggle on the couch!"  I must have said this sentence about a million times throughout the dinner process.  Then of course he would repeat it back to me and mimic my enthusiasm.  He repeats everything nowadays and when you get them to say the right things it is actually kind of awesome.

Anyway, when 'Friday Night Movie Night' finally commenced, and we were snuggled on the couch in our pj's with a plate of cookies and a sippy cup of milk in front of us (he didn't want popcorn), animated movie playing...it was a moment that made my heart swell three times its normal size.  Truth be told I barely watched the movie, as I'm not that into animated kiddo flicks.  I spent the entire time hugging him tighter, smelling his hair, handing him cookies (he goes into zombie mode when a show is on) and resting my eyes, enjoying the calm and quiet.

Then when I put him to bed he said, "I like Friday Night Movie Night, Mama."
Me, too, kiddo.  Me, too.

Anyway, two has its challenges, for sure.

Daily meltdowns - he stomps and screams if you turn the light off in his room or put his toothbrush away or put him in his carseat rather than let him climb into it, because "That's MY job!!!!"

Extreme possessiveness - anything you put in front of the baby for her to play will all-of-a-sudden be something he HAS to have, even if it is simply to take it away from her and "put it back."

Super OCD - don't you dare put a toy in the wrong spot, or his sippy in the wrong spot, etc.

Testing the limits - sometimes I will ask him if he wants a 'spank', and with a smile he responds, "Wes. Wes, I would.  That would be nice." It reminds me of when my little Gram used to threaten to spank me, and I would say cheekily, "Go ahead!  It won't hurt anyway!" and she would chase me around the house with a flyswatter.  Anyway, other times Cormac will just have a giant meltdown at the mere mention of a 'spank' (which, by the way, equals a light, barely felt swat on the butt.  So far.)

But, the awesome things about two far outweigh the hard things.

Such as...

• How much more fun everything is now (pumpkin patches, Halloween, getting him pumped up for Santa/Christmas).  
• Singing - he sings!  With you!  Entire songs.  For this show-tune singing mama it is sheer awesomeness.
• He sleeps in his big boy bed.  Finally.  Entire nights.  Without getting out - well, for the most part.  It is just so much more fun having him sleep in a big bed for some reason.  
• He gets excited for mealtimes. (Well, unless he is doing something 'important,' such as 'working with Dada's tools,' which, by the way, is 'hard work.')  I love to feed my family - and when I get to say those magic words "Come and eat - dinner is ready!" I feel like such a mom.  I love when he pulls 'his' stool out and tries desperately to climb up into his booster seat.  I love that I still have to help him into it.  I love putting the food I've prepared in front of him, whether he eats it out not.  But the best is when he eats it and declares, "I like this!"

So while I sort of get why some think the 'twos' are 'terrible'...
it is still pretty much my favorite age so far.

g