Look Up, Look Down, Look All Around

Dear Juliet,

Today, I lost a dear friend and teacher.  The day after you were born, Cheryl Snipes Smith (also known as "Miss Cheryl") found out that her cancer had returned.  She'd already beaten it twice, but as some cancers are prone to do, hers returned with a vengeance.  Miss Cheryl was a really funny - and slightly crazy - lady who taught me so much.  I had her as a teacher when I was in middle and high school.  Then, when I began teaching, she was my coworker.  Over my eight years of teaching, she also became one of my mentors and a very good friend.  She taught me so many valuable lessons, many of them outside the classroom.  I thought I should take the time tonight to remember the most important lessons she taught me and write them down.  I want to make sure I remember them, and I hope that I can teach you as effectively as she taught me.

Lesson 1: Sometimes, the little things really do make all the difference.
Take the time to say kind things to people and be genuine about it.  The two seconds it takes you to give someone a real smile and let her know you're glad to see her can have a tremendous impact.  So slow down and show kindness.

Lesson 2: "Think outside the box."
This is now, unfortunately, a cliche.  However, when Miss Cheryl said it to her students, she was urging us all to find our "A+ answer."  Don't just give the easy answer - be creative.  Think deeply.  Look at the question another way.  Find answers and solutions that are innovative.  Don't settle for the easy way out. By thinking outside the box, you'll set yourself apart from the pack.  You'll get the job.  You'll get the raise. 

Lesson 3: It's okay to say no.
I don't know if it's people, women, Southern women, or small town women... but it seems that a lot of us have a hard time telling others no.  Cheryl taught me this lesson when we were teaching together.  It's okay to say no to teaching an extra class for no extra money.  It's okay to say no when you're asked to take on your fifth extra curricular activity.  It's okay to say no to people in order to take care of yourself.

Lesson 4: Take care of yourself.
Take time off from work to recover.  Take time to do something that rejuvenates your mind and spirit.  Take care of yourself because if you don't, you won't be of any use to anyone because you'll simply be too tired and worn down to do anything well.

Lesson 5:  Don't be afraid.
There are so many times she taught this lesson that I can't recall them all.  However, I think the ones that stand out most in my mind are about taking risks.  Don't be afraid to try to speak another language, even if you know you can't do it well.  Chances are the person you're trying to communicate with will appreciate your effort and work harder to help you.  Don't be afraid to leave home.  Travel the world (or the country or the state) and absorb as much as you can.  You can always come home, and chances are, you'll appreciate home that much more.  Don't be afraid to chase your dreams.  You might fail, but it's better to have taken the chance than to spend your life doing something you don't enjoy and wondering "What if..."
 
Lesson 6: Be grateful.
Miss Cheryl kept a gratitude journal for a while, and every day she would write the things she was thankful for.  It helped her keep perspective and focus on the positive things in her life when she was struggling to see them.  It's easy to get distracted by the things that aren't going right and lose sight of our countless blessings.  If you find yourself struggling, start counting your blessings.

Lesson 7: Read.  And write, too.
Read books, magazines, maps, road signs, blogs, and menus.  Read read read.  Read good stuff that will teach you things, but read trash (or what I call "brain candy"), too, just to laugh.  Write letters, journal entries, notes to yourself, blogs, and lists.  Miss Cheryl was always writing in large, bold print.  (She had really distinctive handwriting, too.  I wish I had a sample.)

Lesson 8: Be a perpetual student.
You will never know it all.  Spend your life learning new things - random facts, humanities, new skills - and your mind will always stay sharp.  That's where the title of this entry comes from, by the way.  She chaperoned the eighth grade trip to Washington, D.C., for years (decades maybe - seriously, it was a long time), and she always told her students to "look up, look down, look all around" because there are lessons and facts to be learned everywhere, not just right in front of your face.

She taught these lessons and countless others.  She raised two beautiful, independent daughters whom she was incredibly proud of for a variety of reasons.  And she made a really delicious peanut butter icing that she put on cupcakes for my birthday one year.  I'm sorry you won't have the opportunity to know her well, but I am so grateful for her impact on my life.

Love,
Mama

Handley Halloween 2013

The Sunday before Halloween, I decided to take Juliet to the pumpkin patch closes to our house.  Ray and I took her last year, when she was just a couple of weeks old, and took pictures.  I thought it might be a nice to try to start a tradition of going to that same pumpkin patch for as long as we can.  And, to be honest, Juliet was having a rough afternoon in terms of her fussiness, and I was hoping a change of scenery would lead to a change in her attitude.  So I changed her into something that might look cute in the pumpkin patch and loaded her into the car.  At first, she was pretty excited about the pumpkin patch.  But then I set her down in the midst of the pumpkins.  And all hell broke loose.  Juliet was not excited about the pumpkin patch.  But I took pictures anyway... I didn't want to walk away pictureless just because she was crying.  And, let's face it. Some of these pictures are hilarious.

Oh my God! I hate these orange things!  They are as big as I am!

Please don't make me hold this pumpkin, Mama.

I'm holding this tiny pumpkin, but I'm not happy about it!

This is as close to smiling as I'm going to get, Mama.  Deal with it.

I saw lots of families at the pumpkin patch, some with babies as tiny as Juliet was last year.  I cannot believe how much she has grown since then.  I'm kind of looking forward to having this pumpkin patch tradition.  Since Halloween is just 30 days after Juliet's birthday, it should be a neat way to track her growth in pictures.

Halloween is Ray's mom's favorite holiday, so every year, she hosts a Halloween party.  All attendees are expected to be in costume, and the kids trick or treat on Ty Ty and walk down to the festival at the nearby church.  Juliet is still too young for trick or treating, but she is definitely old enough for costumes.

I am trying to stay sane and not go over the top with costumes and parties.  (It's tempting, though, to go nuts with costumes because it's been so long since I've been able to craft.)  So I decided to that Juliet would just be a ballerina.  This gave me a great chance to make a tutu, and it also was very cost-effective.  Black onesie + pink ribbon + one spool of pink tulle = baby ballerina! 

I need to give some credit to Cheryl Smith for Juliet's costume.  She taught me eighth grade English, Spanish I, Spanish II, Spanish III, and Creative Writing.  Each year, she'd do a lesson on Halloween and the Day of the Dead.  Part of the lesson included an exercise designed to stretch our imaginations by seeing how many costumes we could come up with using a black sweat suit as the base.  When trying to plan something simple for Juliet, I started with that basic concept, asking myself what baby-appropriate costumes I could make using a black sweat suit or onesie.  So thanks, "Miss" Cheryl, for helping me keep it simple. :)

 

She doesn't have enough hair to do a dancer's bun, so I just let her rock her crazy baby hair.  I thought it would accentuate her pink Chucks pretty well. 

 

 

 

 

Ray and I got home from his Warrant Officer Candidate School graduation at 2:30 a.m. on the 30th, so he didn't have a lot of time to pull together a costume.  I think his outfit of "cowboy who waited too long to get a good costume" worked well for the amount of time he put into it.  I made myself a poodle skirt and went as a 1950s high school girl.  Although I think my costume was pretty decent, I am more proud of the fact that I remembered the mathematical formulas for finding diameter and radius when given circumference.  And not only did I remember the formulas, I was able to do the correct math and cut my circle skirt properly the first time around.  Thanks, Mr. Knight!  

And, for the first time ever, Ninja was without a costume.  I'm a bad dog mama.  Next year, Ninja.  I'll do something spectacular.  I promise!

Although we were still a little tired from the crazed trip home from WOCS graduation, it was so very wonderful to have Ray home for this.  I'm already looking forward to next year when Juliet should be big enough to trick or treat!

Untitled

Over the past two years, I have been pregnant, given birth, and mothered a little girl.  In these same two years, I've read countless articles, message boards, blogs, and social media posts on pregnancy, labor, and parenting.  I've watched and listened to other women interact with each other about these three things, and I have found that, by and large, we aren't supportive of each other.  Instead, we tell horror stories to instill fear.  We judge and criticize women who make choices different from the ones we made for ourselves.  We compete with other women while pregnant and after we become moms.  We start many sentences with "You need to..." or "You can't..."  Rarely are statements couched with, "Well, my experience was this, but yours might be different..."

Yes, there are exceptions, but by and large, women tend to tear each  other down in subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) ways.  This bothers me because I am a woman, but it bothers me more when I think about raising a woman.  I feel like it took me a while to learn how to have a healthy friendship with other women, and perhaps because of that, I want Juliet to have good, supportive friends and to be one herself. I have no doubt that teaching Juliet the qualities of a good friend will include a lesson in competitiveness.  By nature, I'm extremely competitive.  I don't like to lose.  And  I believe a sense of competition is good: it pushes you to do your best and to work hard.  But that same sense of competition can drive you to tear others down in order to build yourself up.  I don't want Juliet to feel that kind of competition with others.


Last week, a Facebook friend posted a picture of her six-pack.  In her caption, she mentioned that this was her post-baby body.  For about 30 seconds, I felt awful about myself.  I don't have a six-pack.  I don't look like I did pre-baby.  I am a failure as a woman, and my husband will likely never find me attractive again.  And as I scrolled through the comments praising this woman and how "hot" she looked (all, by the way, from other women), I stumbled across the comment of another mom.  This other mom was clearly feeling like a failure.  She asked how to do it and said she'd been working on diet and exercise herself.  That one comment shifted my entire perspective.  In the time it took me to read a stranger's comment, I went from feeling like a failure to feeling downright angry on behalf of all recent moms.

How dare anyone post something online that would make other mothers feel like they weren't good enough?  How dare this woman post such a vain picture about her post-baby body knowing full well how many new moms she was friends with who don't have a six-pack?  How dare anyone make me or any other woman feel like we're somehow inferior because we don't have six-packs?  I work a full-time job and function as a single parent!  It's a miracle I can find time to participate in a burpee challenge or do 15 minutes of yoga a couple of nights a week after I put Juliet down!

So what would drive a woman to post a picture of her six-pack with a caption about how awesome her post-baby body is?  It's probably a combination of things.  There are certainly societal pressures.  But if we're to be totally honest here, what likely drove her to choose to share that picture with that caption is her sense of competition.  It was, after all, a victorious post.  And that is what I think is so damaging about it.  It wasn't about her hard work.  It was about the end result, about how great she looked.  There was nothing about the help she had getting there (a husband or nanny to watch the kid so she has time for herself).  Because the nature of the post was about how great she is, there is an implication that others who don't have a six-pack are somehow lesser.

After I got over my initial anger, I started thinking.  If the woman who posted that picture of her six-pack needed to do that to feel affirmed, fine.  If her appearance is the ruler with which she measures her success, who am I to tell her that's wrong?  It's certainly not the standard by which I measure my success as a mom, as a wife, as a friend, or as a human.  But it's not my place to tell her (or anyone else) what matters.  Instead of sending her a scathing message about her post, I should take a deep breath and move on.  Her values are her own, and she's entitled to have them. I will say, though, that it makes me sad that she places such importance on such a shallow thing. 


I don't know.. That one Facebook post has left me more determined than ever to be supportive of other women because I don't want anyone to feel like I felt after seeing that post.  I want to model for Juliet how to be honest and real, and I want her to value her mind, her friends, and her health more than her appearance.  Looks are just a bonus, icing on a delicious red velvet cake!

Happy birthday!

  

Dear Juliet,

Happy birthday!  One year ago, you changed my life in the most amazing way.  In one year, you have taught me so much about life, love, laughter, and (at times) survival that I feel like you could be several college and military courses rolled into one.  Your dad and I constantly marvel at our capacity to love you and how your addition to our family has made us love each other more.  You are such a blessing!

This past month, you've started doing some really cool things.  For starters, you walk now.  You gave me the most amazing birthday present by walking for the first time while your dad was home.  Being able to share that moment with him was so cool.  Now, you walk all over the place; you walk more than you crawl, and you've even tried to run a couple of times.  You also shake your head "no" when I try to give you things you don't want (like watermelon this weekend).  I have no idea where you learned this, but it's so fun to watch you communicate clearly with others now.  You have learned to hand me things when I ask for them.  This is very sweet when you share your toys with me unprompted, and it's very helpful when you hand me things I don't want you to chew on (like the rubber tub stopper).  You say, "key" which is Juliet for "kitty."  You also say, "Dada" when prompted, and we're working on "Mama."  I think that you're trying to say, "dog" or "Ninja" but it comes out "guh."  You're just so consistent with it - you say it all the time when you see Ninja, so I think that's your word for her.  You're getting pretty good with waving good-bye, but you have a tendency to do it right after the person you should be waving to finally gives up and turns to leave, so he or she misses it.  I have no doubt, though, that you will master the timing soon.

Your dad and I were talking about our life a year ago.  On September 30, 2012, we were both nervous.  I was nervous about giving birth, nervous about being a mom, and nervous about making the decision to induce.  (Your dad, apparently, was quite nervous about it all, too, but he never let on to me that he was anything other than perfectly calm and confident.  He does that a lot, you know.  He stays calm when those around him are scared or nervous because he knows that it helps them feel calm.  It helps a lot; I know it's helped me, and I've seen how his calm demeanor can help calm you down, too.) But in spite of our nervousness, we went on the hospital on October 1.  Your Aunt E was there as our nurse, and she and your dad talked a lot to keep things lighthearted and relaxed.  You were very cooperative and came fairly quickly without a whole lot of fuss.  When you were born, I felt strangest, most awesome feeling of complete happiness.  I had never felt anything like that before - the closest I'd ever come was the day I married your daddy.  When they put you on my chest, I looked at your daddy and said, "We've got a baby!"  (Aunt E still laughs about this.)  I felt so calm and so happy.  You were this perfect child, totally healthy (seriously, your apgar scores were great).

In the year since that night, you've continued to be this totally healthy, pretty perfect child.  (And let me be honest here.  Deep down, I think you're perfect.  But I don't want to be one of those parents who foolishly believes her kid is perfect.  Nobody's perfect.  You're going to become a teenager and mess up.  Everyone does.  So I have to remind myself that you're "pretty perfect" just to try to keep some perspective so that I'm not crushed when you act like a human and make a mistake.)  We think you're brilliant and sweet and beautiful.  I haven't had you tested for MENSA yet, but I feel certain you'd get in. 

This past year hasn't always been easy (it's hard when no one in the house is sleeping), but it has been literally awesome.  (When you're older, I'll talk to you about this year, 2013, and how the dictionaries all made a grave error and changed the meaning of "literally."  I feel certain you'll grow up to be someone who will appreciate how much this upset me.)  I thank God for you every day, and every day, I pray that He will protect you and let you grow up to be healthy and strong. 

I cannot wait to see what this next year with you brings.  Keep your independent spirit, little girl.  It's one of my most favorite things about you.

I love you mucho,
Mama

Eleven Months

Yesterday, Juliet turned eleven months old.  Milestones this month:

• She is very squirmy, so it's hard to get a good measurement of her height, but I'm guessing (based on what I could tell while holding a measuring tape next to her as she tried to grab it out of my hands) she's about 29 inches tall.  She's holding steady at roughly 20 pounds, too.
• Juliet has a total of six teeth now!  Her two bottom front teeth and her top four front teeth.  The two top front teeth are still just erupting, but they're through!
• She eats and eats these days. Her favorite thing to eat is chicken, though.  She will only eat her veggies if I offer them first without letting her see the chicken.  I consider this preference proof that she's my child.  But the fact that she will actually eat her veggies proof that she's Ray's child. :)
• If you are eating, you will have to share with Juliet.  She wants to share what you're having.  And, for the most part, I encourage this.  I want her palate to be more diverse than mine - I was (and still am compared to many people) a very picky eater, and I want her to eat better than I did.
• She continues to enjoy playing with Filch and Ninja, and they both continue to tolerate her very well.
• Juliet hasn't officially said her first word in my opinion, but Ray disagrees.  She has, on more than one occasion, said, "Da-da" on command, and that's all he needs.  He claims that as her first word.  :)  She also consistently says, "Key" when she sees Filch, which I think is her version of  "kitty," but I'm not totally convinced it's intentional yet.  I think that until I believe she's making noises intentionally (and not just mimicking us), I'll have a hard time saying she's "talking."
• She understands and responds to her name.
• She definitely knows the word, "No," and she really doesn't like it.  In fact, if it's something she really wants to do, and she is told, "No," she starts to cry.  It's hard not to laugh at her when this happens, but I try really hard to keep a straight face.
• One of the coolest things she's started doing this month is being loving.  She will hug me back now, and she also frequently comes up to me, pulls up, and hugs my legs.  This weekend, she was particularly loving to both me and Ray.  She would be crawling all over, being her usual crazy-baby self, and then just stop for a few moments to lay her head on one of us while wrapping her arms around whatever she could.  She also started doing this with Ninja, who is very patient.  This morning, before Ray left, he was hugging me.  Juliet crawled over to us and let us know she wanted to be picked up.  So I grabbed her, and Ray and I both hugged her.  She smiled the hugest grin ever.  I love our family so, so much!
• First steps were taken on August 31, 2013.

Juliet has been taking accidental steps for more than a month now.  But two days ago, in front of Ray (and many of the others who were gathered at our house for my birthday), Juliet took three deliberate steps.  A few moments later, she took another five steps.  And since then, she continues to take more and more steps.  It is so fun to watch her let go of whatever she's pulled up onto and make the conscious choice to walk.  You can watch her think about it, concentrate, and then go.  I cannot express how proud I am of this milestone or how very, very grateful I am that Ray was home to witness it.  I know that Ray struggles being away from us, especially while Juliet is changing and growing so much.  Watching Juliet walk and then seeing Ray's face reflect everything I was feeling was awesome.  Thank you, child, for giving us that gift!

Courtney, our nanny, has been working with Juliet on waving bye-bye.  I've seen Juliet wave good-bye twice now, so I know she's getting it.  I can't wait to hear her say, "Bye-bye!" while waving... But that will probably make it even harder to leave her behind.

A couple more pictures of this month:

I can feed myself broccoli... It's a little messy, but that's okay because it's fun!

Thanks, Aunt Vicki, for giving me this great shirt!  Mama's been itching to put me in it since we got it, and today was the perfect day.  I'm getting really good at the "Whooo!" part in the fight song.  The Chop comes next!

It's Not About Me

A friend sent me that quote from Pink this week, and it caused me to literally exclaim, "YES!!" out loud when I read it.  This is exactly how I feel about being Juliet's mom.  Her fierceness and independence (that she is already showing at 10 months) is a beautiful, amazing thing.  But here's the thing: sometimes, it's hard.  It is hard when her fierceness means refusing to eat.  It is hard when her fierceness means she knows exactly what she wants and gets angry when I won't let her do it.  It is hard when her independence means that she will feed herself even though that means she might not get as much in her mouth as I'd like.  (I'm not talking about the mess - I'm talking about knowing that she has had enough to eat.)

As her mother, I believe I know what is best for her.  I know when she should be hungry.  I know what is dangerous for her to do and what will hurt her.  I know how much she should eat.  I am her mother.  But the bottom line is that sometimes, she's not hungry.  And sometimes, I need to let her figure out that playing with the cabinet doors might mean smashed fingers.  Other times, she gets full before she's finished her banana.  Juliet is her own person (already), and I need to remember and respect that.

This weekend, Juliet has started teething again.  She is not her normal self right now.  She needs to have me within arm's reach at all times, but she doesn't want to snuggle.  She throws herself on me, climbs on me, walks around the table while making sure I'm watching, and generally functions as Dictator Baby.  She doesn't eat at her normal times, eat her normal amounts, sleep her at her normal times, or sleep for her normal amounts.  I am constantly working to discern her needs at that moment. When I can't figure it out, it makes me feel like a failure.  Earlier today, she was fussing and nothing I was doing helped.  I said to her, "Baby girl, I'm trying so hard right now, but I feel like a failure of a mom."  And it hit me.  I was doing exactly what Pink's mom did and what I said I didn't  want to do.  I was taking Juliet's fussing personally, as some sort of indictment of my inability to mother her. 

Juliet is 10 months old and teething.  She's going to fuss.  She's going to be demanding.  She's going to exert her independence and eat (or not) as she pleases while her latest tooth tries to work its way down.  And none of that has anything to do with me.  It's not about me. 

So, I'm sure that Pink wasn't talking about a teething, fussy baby.  It's far more likely that she was talking about a toddler exerting her independence.  But the message is still the same: it's not about me.  It's about her.  Her needs, her growth, her her her.  If I can get this through my head now, when she's not even walking, then maybe - just maybe - there is hope that I'll do okay.  I've said time and again that my goal with Juliet, the stick with which I will measure my success as a mom, is her independence.  I want her to be independent and self-sustaining (physically, financially, emotionally, all of it).  But if I really want to achieve that, it will mean coming to terms early on (like now) with the fact that my daughter will likely be fierce and stubborn at times.  It means I should celebrate these aspects of her personality and appreciate them.  I should see them as signs of her growing into all that I hope for her.  I should not take them as acts of rebellion or as indictments of my failures.  The sooner I can correct the self-talk going on in my head, the better.  I want to set an example for Juliet (with positive self-talk), and I want her to always feel that I support and accept her.

Thank you, Pink, for putting this quote out there.  And thank you, Adrianne, for sharing it.

On Breastfeeding

I've been wanting to write a post on breastfeeding for a while, but one thing or another has always stopped me.  Since it's World Breastfeeding Week, I figured now's probably a good time to actually write it.

The decision to breastfeed or not is entirely a personal decision.  I'm not going to fill this post with statistics discussing how breastfeeding can reduce heathcare costs for our nation, the association between breastfeeding and higher IQ, or the increase in numbers of breastfeeding moms. All of that information is out there and readily available via Google search. While I believe firmly that breastfeeding is the right choice, I also recognize that it's not the only choice.  And it's not my place to determine what is right for other women.

Instead, I want to talk about what breastfeeding has been like for me.  I was fortunate enough to have some very honest women in my life share their experiences with me before Juliet was born.  I listened to all of their stories and felt like the variety of experiences left me prepared for almost any eventuality.  If this entry helps just one other mom, then it's worth my time to write.

Before I talked to my friends who had breastfed (or tried to breastfeed), I thought it was just this easy, natural thing.  After all, women have been breastfeeding for thousands of years.  It's natural.  How hard can it really be?

The answer is really effing hard. 

For starters, I had no idea what I was doing, and as Juliet was brand new, she certainly didn't know what she was doing.  And although my experience at Tallahassee Memorial was excellent, I didn't have a lactation consultant in the delivery room.  (Honestly, besides limiting the number of times a nurse can come in the room in the middle of the night to check your vitals, that is the only thing I'd change about my entire experience there.)  So because neither of us knew what we were doing, Juliet wasn't latched properly.  I got what the nurses called a "misfire" which is a nice way to put "terrible, bloody blister that will bleed and takes a week to heal." This misfire made nursing excruciatingly painful for me.  I tried to use a nipple shield to try to make things a little more comfortable until I healed.  I also pumped a good bit and gave Juliet a bottle of breast milk.

Then, I had a hard time figuring out the hold that worked best.  We had to do football hold for the first several weeks and then were finally able to transition to cross cradle and then - finally - cradle.  The Boppy was really helpful, though, with all holds.

Every single thing I'd read and been told before Juliet was born and immediately after said that she should nurse for 20 - 40 minutes.  So the first week - 10 days of Juliet's life, Ray or I would start a stopwatch when Juliet latched.  And we'd stop the clock when she stopped nursing.  And start it again when we could get her to relatch.  And stop when she stopped.  And on and on and on.  We were both already sleep-deprived.  But this method meant that a 20-minute feeding actually took an hour and a half.  When you're supposed to be waking your baby every three hours to feed her, and feedings take an hour and half, you're never getting more than an hour of half of sleep at time.  I don't deal well with stress when I'm tired.  I learned quickly that there is a massive difference between being tired and being sleep-deprived.  I remember looking at Ray in the middle of the night after a feeding and just crying out of sheer exhaustion and desperation.  He said, "Now you understand why sleep-deprivation is used an interrogation technique, don't you?" Um, yeah. I think I'd have told anyone anything at that point if it meant I could sleep.  After days of this, I finally decided to Google how long it should take a baby to eat.  Hey, guess what?  It turns out there isn't a right answer.  Some babies take 40 minutes.  Other babies, like Juliet, are power-eaters and are done in 7 minutes.  Once I figured this out, my life changed.  I trusted that Juliet would eat until she was full.  And she did, and we all lived.

I struggled with oversupply and overactive letdown. A result of this was a very gassy (and therefore very scream-y at times) baby.  There's not really a whole lot you can do for either of these problems.  I learned to sit Juliet up as much as possible while feeding her and to lean back while feeding her.  I also would let down into a towel (or a bottle so that I wasn't wasting milk) before getting Juliet to latch on. Given the choice between oversupply and undersupply, I'd obviously rather have the former.  But it definitely had its own set of challenges.  A week or so ago, my friend Kellie (who is an Attachment Parent) posted a link on my Facebook wall that she knew would make me laugh.  It was on an AP discussion board, and it was about "the crunchiest thing you do" as a parent.  I'm not very crunchy, and Kellie knows this, which is why she knew I'd laugh.  But it got me thinking.  What is the crunchiest thing I do?  The answer is pretty simple.  I donate my breastmilk.

That may sound crazy.  It certainly felt crazy at first.  But here's the deal.  Because I had such an oversupply, I had a considerable stash of frozen breastmilk - more than Juliet would need barring my untimely demise.  And so my (also crunchy, AP) friend Adrianne added me to a Facebook group for Tallahassee Milk Share.  I had a lot of questions, including, "Is this even legal?!?"  (I had visions of this mom trying to buy raw milk.)  One of the group leaders was very helpful and answered all of my questions, and I found out that it's totally legal.  I still felt sort of unsure, so I prayed about it.  I'd read stories from women in the group who were asking for donor milk, and they were heart-wrenching.  I wanted to help these women, but I also was worried that if I gave away my stash that my child might suddenly need it.  (In retrospect, that seems an awful lot like something a hoarder would say.)  But the more I prayed about it, the more I felt called to give.  So I chose a mom with a baby a couple of weeks older than Juliet and reached out to her.  As of this weekend, I have given her hundreds of ounces of breastmilk.  It doesn't feel strange anymore.  It feels good.  It's definitely pretty crunchy, but it just makes sense.  I have more than we need.

Breastfeeding while Juliet was teething was pretty rough.  She wanted to nurse a lot - comfort nursing.  And while I'm not usually one for comfort nursing (again, I'm not an AP parent), I would do anything I could to help ease Juliet's pain.  At times, it felt like she was chewing on me.  It was pretty awful.  But the alternative - weaning and switching Juliet to formula - just felt like the wrong choice.  And, thankfully, Juliet got through the teething phase and doesn't chew on me.

I have no doubt that all mothers think at some point or another, "Motherhood is hard."  Put simply, it is.  But breastfeeding, to me, adds another level of difficulty to being a mom.  Your child is literally dependent on you for food.  There are times when I think, "My body is not my own.  My body is Juliet's."  I cannot do anything, go anywhere without stopping to think, "Do I need to bring the pump?"  I've had to step out of client meetings to pump, had to pump in public restrooms, and even had to pump in an airplane bathroom.  I try to schedule all meetings, appointments, and social engagements around pumping/feeding.  Most days, it's no big deal - just part of being a mom.  But some days, it's very hard.  Some days, it's overwhelming.  Some days, I wish my body was my own again.

And pumping.  Dear Lord.  I have a love/hate relationship with my Medela Pump in Style Advanced. I am so very, very grateful for it.  Without it, I would not have been able to continue breastfeeding Juliet after I went back to work.  Since my goal with breastfeeding is to make it to one year and my maternity leave was only three months long, the PISA allows me to keep my supply up and to pump enough to leave with Juliet's caretaker during the day.  But I am so tired of hooking up to that thing. I feel like a cow at a dairy farm.  And I got this lovely accessory so that I could pump hands-free.  Seriously, at times, I just think, "This is just not sexy."  But as must as I look forward to the day when I can stop pumping, I am very grateful for the freedom the PISA affords me. If it weren't for that pump, I'd never be able to leave Juliet.

So why breastfeed?  If it's not easy and not comfortable and not convenient, why do I bother?  The answer there is pretty simple.  I believe with every bit of my being that it's what's best for my child.  I believe that it's better than formula and healthier, too.  So I choose to breastfeed Juliet because it's not about me.  It's about her.  And that makes every bit of trouble, discomfort, and inconvenience totally worth it.

I know this post has been really, really long.  But I have one more thing I need to say about my breastfeeding experience.  I would be remiss if I didn't credit Ray in this process.  He has been unfailingly supportive through all of it, even before Juliet was born.  He educated himself about breastfeeding while I was pregnant and became a staunch advocate of breastfeeding.  While Juliet and I were still trying to figure things out, he constantly encouraged me.  He functioned as my own personal cheerleader, reinforcing that I was doing a good job and being a good mom.  Ray's support and encouragement, even though he is a man and could never share with me or teach me the way another breastfeeding mom could, is truly what got me through the hardest times. 

Ten Months

Sorry the picture's blurry.  It's hard to snag a picture of her standing while trying to keep her attention focused on something other than the sticker she so desperately wanted to pull off her dress to eat.

 Today, Juliet is ten months old.  Fun facts about this month's developments:

• She is 28 inches tall.  I forgot to weigh her this morning, but I can tell you this: she is getting heavy. However, at her check up on Tuesday, she was measuring between 30th and 40th percentile, she isn't  a big baby by any means.
• She has stopped sleeping through the night.  I thought it was connected to teething, but she's not teething currently.  I asked her doctor about it, and he thinks it's more likely tied to a growth spurt and her body's ability to more quickly process breast milk.  She's averaging waking up starving twice a night now.  This is not fun, but it's still better than the eight to ten times a night she was up screaming while teething.
• Yesterday, standing just seemed to click for Juliet. She's been trying to stand and standing for a few seconds a time for at least a month now.  But yesterday, she began standing for long periods of time - minutes at a time.  It's so cool to watch her balance!
• Juliet has four teeth - her two front bottom teeth and two top teeth, the ones on either side of where her front teeth are. She is the most adorable snagglepuss ever.
• She has mastered solids and is now really working on feeding herself.  She loves chicken.  
• Juliet "paces" in her crib and in the empty bathtub.  It's hilarious to watch her crawl back and forth as fast as she can and just yammer away.
• She likes to dance and sing.  On our recent road trip to Savannah, she sang along with Dave Matthews, Jack Johnson, Willie Nelson, Flatt and Scruggs, Allison Krauss, Nelly, and Taylor Swift. (Clearly, I believe in exposing her to a diverse array of artists.)
• Her curiosity will get the best of her.  I've said in previous posts that she lives dangerously, and this is only getting more true as the days go on.  She will give me a heart attack by the time I'm 40 at this rate.
• Juliet has learned to throw her toys out of the tub and then crawl out of the tub to get them.

Here are some pictures of Juliet doing her thing this month.

I love to pull all the books off of my shelf and chew on one or two while Mama reads me some of the others.

If you look past all the blueberry, you can see three of my four teeth.

I really like to be outside, despite the look on my face in this picture.

Feeding myself food with a spoon is a lot harder than feeding myself finger foods.

I still really love bath time.

I thought I wanted to shower with Mama, so I cried and crawled in the shower with her.  But then I realized I don't like showers because the water sprays in my face.  This is a lot different than when I splash water in my own face.  So I cried until Mama took me out of the shower and wrapped me in her robe.  I was so exhausted from my trying adventure (and all that crying) that I just had to lay down.  Being a baby is very hard some days.

I stand in the tub all the time.  It makes Mama very nervous.  But I love it, so she lets me do it whenever I want.  She is hoping that I don't fall but that if I do, I don't hurt myself and just learn a good lesson about what the limits of my balance are.

I apologize for the quality of this video. But this is our life these days.  I let Juliet play in the bathtub until she's prune-y, and then I let her pull the plug.  After she pulls the plug, she tries to grab all the water as is goes down the drain.  Once the tub is empty, she runs laps and hollers.

Here's a video of Juliet showing off her table skills. We've got to work on chewing with her mouth closed, but I think she's doing a great job feeding herself.

Busy Bees

It has been a crazy several weeks in the Handley household.  Ray was home for a whirlwind three weeks, and things for me at work have been insane with two major campaigns launching on July 9.  All of this left little time to think, much less blog.

Since a picture's worth a thousand words, here are a bunch of pictures from the past few weeks.

Supper with Dad on his first night back from El Salvador.

Do I have something on my face?

I have not heard of the Tongue Witch yet.

I spend a LOT of time pulling up on the furniture and grabbing anything within reach.

I also like to explore everything I can... including the water faucet in the bathtub.

I also like to stick things in my mouth and then stand up or crawl around and grab other things.

I like to eat my books, including the ones with no pictures.

I like to hang out in Mama's closet and chew on her shoes and anything else I can get to.

This weekend, I have been adamant about feeding myself.  I will not tolerate Mama trying to feed me.  I know it looks like I have blood dripping down my face, but it's just blueberries I flung up there while practicing my spoon skills.

I don't like to eat the kitty food.  I just REALLY like the sound it makes when I throw it across the floor.

I am an adventurous and curious little girl with no fear.  The dishwasher was a lot of fun!

This is pretty much my personality these days.  Wide-open, crazy, happy baby.  Mama and Dad love me so much they can hardly stand it.  I wear them out completely with my shenanigans, but I'm worth every single crazy second.

Nine Months

I'm pretty awesome.  And I know it.

Look at how cool my hair is!!  Jealous???

Today, Juliet is nine months old.  She is out of control in the most amazing ways.  She is really becoming more and more of her own person every day.  Highlights from this month:

• Juliet weighs 19 pounds and is 27.5 inches tall.
• She is really beginning to make consistent sounds - no words yet, but there's definite progress in that department.
• She pulls up and lets go of things all the time now, trying so hard to stand on her own.
• Juliet loves Filch and shrieks high-pitched sounds of delight when he is in her sight.
• She is even faster crawling now than she was last month, and when she hears the front door open when Ray or I are coming home, she crawls as fast as she can to get to us.
• She is more and more curious every day, which is awesome and terrible at the same time (I promise I'll write about that soon).
• She has three and a half teeth (that "half" is almost in but not quite).
• She is eating a TON - a whole banana plus 4 ounces of milk at one meal is not unusual.

She grins huge a huge grin these days and makes what we call "squinch face."  It's so cute and so strange because we're not sure where she learned it.  Aunt Betsy posted a picture on Facebook yesterday of Rachel as a toddler, though, and Rachel was making the same face.

Everyone is saying Juliet looks like Ray.  I really don't see it except for her eyes.  She just looks like her own self to me. But she definitely has her daddy's eyes.  Her hair is wilder than ever and won't be tamed, but I love it.  Everywhere we go, people compliment her mohawk.  I've got to say... if there was ever a baby girl who could rock a mohawk, it's Juliet.

In addition to all of that, Juliet is also learned to express her frustration.  When she doesn't get her way (like when we won't allow her to chew on our phones) or when she can't reach something she wants, she will start to cry her loud I'M ANGRY cry.  It's so loud that there are days I have to make a conscious effort not to give in just to protect my eardrums.

She has also hit a phase where she wants me a lot.  We're all trying not to take it personally, but it's hard.  It's hard on Ray to be unable to soothe her, and it's hard on me to be the only thing that will calm her at times.  I try really hard not to reward her screaming for me because I want her to be just as happy with her dad.  But sometimes, you just have to hold your baby girl.  Luckily, Juliet settles down quickly and will go right back to Ray.  Oh!  This past week, she's started to do this hilarious thing where she needs/wants both of us at the same time.  If we're sitting next to each other on the couch, she will literally crawl back and forth between us, never resting.  Or, she will sit on one of our laps put have a hand/foot on the other.

The last little tidbit I can think of for this month is her teething.  I would just like everyone to know... Teething is really terrible.  It can make the happiest of babies just downright demonic.  Thankfully, one of her top teeth finally broke through, and that has given her (and therefore the rest of us) some relief.  I cannot say enough good things about Hyland Teething Tablets.  They've made all the difference in the world, and I don't think any of us would have survived the teething without them.

Juliet is still our snuggly baby when she's just waking up.  But once she's awake, look out.  She is wide open all the time.  I sometimes suspect that the makers of RedBull have simply harnessed whatever is coursing through Juliet's veins.  I'm so glad she is so alert and active, but I really do love our snuggle time for the three minutes a day I might get it.

Kitchen Training

I've mentioned in several previous posts that Juliet can crawl at the speed of light and that she generally can't be trusted to stay out of trouble.  This week, her favorite trouble to get into is the kitty food.  Thankfully, she hasn't managed to get any into her mouth yet, but she's gotten more than a couple of handfuls before I could stop her.

Tonight, I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her while I was cooking supper without sticking her in her high chair, so I decided to try a distraction.  I handed her a spatula and a mixing bowl in hopes that the new toys would keep her occupied long enough for me to be able to finish what I was doing.

Success!  Not only was I able to cook supper, I was able to go grab my camera and get some pictures.

Hmmm... this spoon is a little large for my mouth.

I'm a hoarder. I must have all the things in my hands at one time.

Ninja, face the facts.  I'm the center of attention these days.  Sorry, girl.

I need to refine my bowl-licking technique before Mama makes a cake.

I might be drunk with happiness over my new toys.

Eight Months

I'm such a big girl!

At the end of my entry for seven months, I said that I couldn't wait to see what the next month brought.  Whoa.  I was not prepared for all the changes!  Here is a brief overview of Juliet at eight months:

• Juliet weighs 18 pounds and is 27 inches tall.
• She is crawling like an old pro now.  She can crawl, and she can bear crawl.  Both techniques work equally well for her.
• She pulls up on everything.
• She has mastered eating solids (well, baby solids - she still only has two teeth).
• She is obsessed with the cat.
• She likes to play in the dog's water bowl.
• She thinks it's hilarious when I tell her "No!"
• She now sits in the tub like a big girl.
• She will crawl from room to room to find what she wants.
• She understands how to find me when I hide from her (I just hide around the corner, so please don't freak out and think I'm hiding from my infant and thereby leaving her unsupervised for extended periods of time).

Please note that she's grown two inches in one month.  Honestly, I measured her three times today. I got 28.5 inches the first two times and 27 inches the final time.  I simply can't believe that she grew 3 inches in one month, so I'm going with 27.  And I'm also going to believe that the nurse who measured her at 25 inches a month ago mis-measured, too. 

I feel like there are milestones I'm forgetting, but everything is just happening so fast right now!  Today alone, Juliet did the following things:

• Tried to put her finger in the electric socket
• Pulled up on me, then let go and promptly fell backwards
• Pulled up on the toilet and began playing in the toilet water before I could stop her
• Pulled up on the coffee table and then transferred to the couch
• Chewed on my laptop power cord
• Pulled up in her crib and then began jumping

I swear, it's like she's trying to give me a heart attack.  I said before that she wasn't trustworthy.  Now, I just think she's living dangerously.  I know that at some point, she's going to get hurt.  It's inevitable.  And it's how we learn not to do things that are dangerous.  But really, is it too much to ask that she limit the amount of times she makes me gasp in fear to just three per day? Tomorrow morning, I'm going to stick plug covers in all of the outlets.  And put baby proofing tools on the cabinet doors.  There's not much else I can do to keep her safe.  ... Unless I put her in a bubble.  Suddenly, that seems fairly reasonable.

Literally every day now, she is doing something new.  And it is truly the most awesome thing (literal awesomeness, by the way) to watch her brain make connections.  Today, I hid a box of blocks behind my back.  Then, I rattled the blocks.  I watched her think for a second, then I rattled the box again.  She immediately began to crawl around me to see if her blocks were back there.  Her eyes lit up when she saw them. 

Watching these developments is so great.  I sincerely hope that she doesn't give me a heart attack because as much as she terrifies me at times, I really enjoy watching her grow!

Just reading my book in the bath.  It's what all the big girls do.

 

Photography in the Park

My friend Katherine got a fancy-pants camera for Christmas and has been learning how to use it.  She emailed me about a month ago with what she said I might think was a strange proposal.  In addition to blogging, riding horses and taking pictures, Katherine is also an avid runner (and triathlete and half-iron woman!). One evening, she was out running around Southwood and found a pretty little park.  Her proposal was to take pictures of Juliet (and me and Ray if I wanted) at this park because she wanted to practice her photography skills.  More cute pictures of my child?  Yes, please!  And pictures of me with my child?  Sold!  I have tons of pictures of Juliet.  And I have a lot of pictures of Ray with Juliet.  But I have very few of me with her.  I think this is because I am the one taking pictures - Ray is a man and doesn't think, "Awww, that is so cute I need a picture of it!" very often.

A couple of Sundays ago, we met Katherine at this park on a gorgeous afternoon.  She took a ton of pictures of us with her Canon Rebel T3, and we had such a good time!  Unfortunately, I somehow managed to delete the entire disc of pictures when I was transferring them to my laptop this evening.  I swear, I have actually used a computer before.  I have even transferred files from a disc to a hard drive before.  I truly have no idea what happened.  One minute, I was creating a folder to send the pictures to, and the next moment, I was yelling, "Don't format the disc!!" like that would somehow stop what was going on.  Thankfully, Katherine kept all of the originals and is willing to provide me with another disc.  She said, "A pro never deletes her originals."  (This was after she told me that she couldn't help me because she'd deleted them after she burned the disc.  She can be evil.)

Before I annihilated what she gave me, I sent three pictures to Ray via email, so I do have those to share.  (Thank you, Sent Mail!)

A nice, normal shot:

I love this next picture so very, very much.  I feel like this speaks volumes about who Juliet is right now.  She is such a snuggle bug, but she loves to chew anything she can get her hands on.   I love her crazy, wild hair that I cannot tame.  And I love her beautiful eyes that, on this day, were blue.  But she has her father's eyes, so sometimes, they're kind of green.  When the sun shines in her eyes, you can see more of the green with flecks of yellow.  It is so wonderful to look at her and see my husband when he is away from us.

Finally, this picture just makes me laugh out loud.  This shot also is an excellent demonstration of who Juliet is.  She is a crazy, happy girl.  She laughs a big girl laugh and grins giant grins.  And she thinks I am hilarious.  I would do just about anything to hear her laugh her shrieking, "Mama, you are so funny!" laugh.  God, I love this child!