Another one about food... (kind of)

The Dude will be 5 months old sooner than I care to admit. He's growing way too fast. Unfortunately, now what little milk I had has pretty much completely dried up. I'm very reluctant to let it go. I just tried to pump and after 20 minutes, I got the equivalent of one gulp for The Dude. I know there's no point any more in me trying, but I hate it. I don't want to stop, but my body has made that decision for me. Am I really going to miss sitting with that damn suction cup attached to me for who knows how long, just to squeeze out maybe an ounce? No. Am I really going to miss The Dude pinching my nipples because the milk would stop and I couldn't get him to the bottle quick enough? No. Am I already missing the little newborn that my son was? Yes. Am I worried about postpartum depression hitting me now? Yes. Am I sad that my cycle has already started back up. YES. I planned and planned and planned for nursing The Dude until he was at least 1. Instead, I barely nursed him for not quite 5 months. I tried my damndest. I took Fenugreek. I drank Mother's Milk Tea. I drank water like it was my business. I insisted on nursing him every single time he ate. As he got bigger, and the formula in his bottle topped the 6 ounce line, reality started to hit me. Was it worth the trouble so he could get a 1/2 ounce of breastmilk? I kept trying. But started to become a lot more lax. Reality just fully hit that I think I just pumped for the last time.

I'm worried about postpartum depression. But I think I may be psyching myself out. I never realized that stopping breast-feeding could bring it on. I know my hormones are still adjusting after I fucked my body up in ways I never realized. I know I'm beyond sad that my sister got fired. I miss her being here. I feel awful continuing to work where I work. Why do I want to work with people that didn't want my sister any more? Lies were told about her. She was vilified for no other reason than she was different. Communication (or lack thereof from the management) was the main reason why she is no longer here. I don't think she deserved the fate she was handed. All of this has been hanging in my head. And now I can't nurse any more. I think it's just sadness/stress overload.

Another food post...

Simple enough. The Dude. Loves. Oatmeal. He about bit my hand off when I didn't have the spoon to his mouth quick enough. And when I was trying to clean up the oatmeal around his mouth, he kept mouthing for the spoon. I love solids!!

Losing motivation...

I want to start by saying I'm pretty damn happy with my job. I love my coworkers, I love my boss, I love my office. But I'm starting to get really tired of being promised things that aren't happening. Not working for Eric in January 2010? Yeah, try November 2010, and that's only because I was put on bedrest. By the time I came back from maternity leave, there was no more mention of working for him any more. Making $XX.XX/hour by the end of 2010? Still waiting. Quarterly reviews? Oh wait! Now they're bi-annual reviews. But I haven't had a review since June or July of 2010, so by the time these come around, it will have been one year. It's so frustrating to do so much and be so underpaid.

It was brought to my attention today that there is a job out there that I am more than qualified for that would net me about 40k a year. It's not a company I particularly want to work at. I don't know if I could ever really leave here. But damn, that's some good motivation. I'll go ahead and say it. I made under 18k last year. And I know the economy tanked, but still, in this industry, that's severely underpaid. I graduated from college with honors, and I bust my ass here. My husband has a salon manager job, has one year of college education and made a CONSIDERABLE amount more than me. It's more than disheartening. Knowing that I could be making more than double what I am making now? It makes it so tough.

A post pretty much all about food...

I really thought I would be good at blogging, but I've most definitely been slacking.

I took The Dude to the doctor yesterday for his 4 month checkup. He's now 14 pound 4 ounces and in the 35-40th percentile in his weight! Yeah! For reference, at 6 weeks he was in the 3rd percentile. I'm so proud of my little big man. He started eating solids yesterday. I LOVE being able to spoon feed him. I was getting so sick of bottles all the time. Obviously, he still has to have his bottle, but it's nice to have some variety. He'll be eating baby food in a few weeks, which means it's time to start making our own. I love that I can do that and start him off as healthy as possible. I pray that he doesn't get my eating habits and taste buds. In everything else he takes after his dad, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll eat like John too.

I'm still pumping and nursing as much as I can. It's starting to feel like a fruitless effort, but I'm just not ready to give it up yet. I had so planned on nursing him with little to no formula for a year, but my body said a big, fat NO to that. That's been the only disappoint since he's come along. At least I have a little bit and keep it going for awhile. It is an amazing experience. I hope that when we decide to have our second child that it will come in. Fingers crossed.

The Dude has also started sleeping in his own room, in his own crib. He does great. I, on the other hand, am not doing so great with it. I sleep a lot less and just stare at that video monitor making sure he's breathing and just looking at him thinking I can't believe I made that.

I read an article not too long ago about a study that said that non-parents were happier than parents. I have a really hard time believing that. I can see advantages on both sides, but I can tell you that Jude outweighs anything that I might "miss" from before I had him. Did I take off on random vacations all the time? No. Do I miss having parties pretty much every weekend and the hangovers and beyond messy house that came with them? No. I still enjoy my friends and having a party every once in a while, but nothing compares to The Dude. I can't wait to add to my brood. John thinks we're waiting 3-4 years. I'm willing to be that I can convince him when Jude's 2. This is the guy who wanted to wait til he was 30 to have a baby. He turned 27 the day The Dude was born.

Now I get to look forward to Florida in a couple months. I absolutely cannot wait. 8 whole days with the husband, The Dude and my sister with no distractions, no work and no cares. Ahh....

Sitting on my Aunt BB's lap

I asked him "who's the cutest boy in the world" and this is what he did. :)

Looking a little concerned

He looks so old in this one! (It's the skinny jeans)

His face in this is adorable. He was watching TV and loving the colors.