Monday, June 4, 2012

WXY and Zzzzz

OVER A YEAR AGO, when Audrey was born, I started a series of alphabet posts that I thought would help to inspire my writing as I tried to capture the experience of being a new mom. I really thought I'd get through the 26 posts in no time flat. But here I am OVER A YEAR LATER, with four letters to go. I left off somewhere around our family vacation to Aruba... and really since then (or maybe even before that), my blogging has sucked. And that depresses me. So here I am, time to finish what I started and move on...

W.  Wild child. Audrey is a wild child. She's got unlimited energy, no time for naps, and is on the go go go. All the time. She can also be immensely sweet. Like when she kisses me on the lips and makes a "mmmmuah" noise or when she points to her tummy and tries to say "bellybutton".  But most of the time she's a wild child. Like today, she threw a legit temper tantrum. For no apparent reason. I mean, I know what she wanted (to nurse... I know what you're thinking: "Kate, she's over a year old." "Are you going to be like that lady on Time magazine?" "If you are, I'm not going to be your friend." I understand your perspective), but there was no reason for her to flail about and bury her head in my thigh as though sometime really horrible had just happened. I was fully planning to give her what she wanted (more on this whole still-nursing-thing another time) just not in response to her screaming. So I walked away. I walked away from my wild child, left her with her dada, and half cried half laughed. She stopped crying a few minutes later (I think she was distracted by Toby puking on the floor) and I walked back into the room and offered my wild child what she wanted. She nestled into me. I nestled into the couch. And for 20 minutes, she stared into my eyes, twirled her hair, hummed to herself and was the most unwild child  I could ever hope for.

X. and O. and X and O. Many millions of these to my husband to celebrate our 4 years of marriage. Hard to even believe all that has happened in the last 4 years. No, actually, hard to remember.

"Y is it hard to remember, Kate?" you ask? "Well, friends, it's because I'm so goddamn

Zzzzzzzzz. "

Cop-out. So what. Leave me alone. I'm going to bed. I have to wake up at 6 am to nurse my 1 year old.



  1. I want you to know that you should not have to explain anything about nursing past one year. It pains me to read you talk about friends de-friending you and such. Anita self- weaned around 15 months (as in she didn't ask to nurse anymore) and although I did enjoy the independence it was a hard transition as you can imagine no more staring into my eyes for 20 minutes, etc. You should do what you and your family think are best and forget the rest. Sure the mom on the cover of Time may be a bit extreme, but who am I to say that?! Enjoy your tome together and cherish it because at some point she will no longer ask for it and it might just cause you to get all teary eyed (even 3 months later)!

    1. I know, Britney! No one's actually given me a hard time (yet) and I do have a lot of support from my friends and family. I do love the time I have with her and know that it will be over before I know it and I get sad thinking about it! I also get happy though thinking about all the time I will have to spend with her doing other fun stuff! Thanks for the support :)

  2. Love it kate! And the breast feeding thing, every situation is different.. I MAY judge you if she were 5 ( just being honest) but really.. Enjoy the time while you can. I couldn't breast feed so I pumped for 7 months exclusively.. There was no real joy or connection coming from pumping 5 times a day:( so, consider yourself lucky And screw everyone else:)

    1. Thanks, Sierra! I do know how blessed we have been to have had such a good time with breastfeeding. There was a time, when she was super little, that she refused me for like, three days, and I thought it was over. Here we are a year later with no end in sight :) I promise you though that it will end before she is 5. LOOONG before.