The Perfect Pea Puree

For the first six months of Audrey's life, I fed her with pretty much just the perfect food that my body made for her. I'm still nursing at 10 months (though she is also getting a healthy dose of formula, too). I'm kind of proud of myself for making it to and then blowing through my goal of six months. I mean, I'm not all in-your-face-my-breastfed-kid-is-better-than-your-formula-kid (cuz I don't think that's true), but I'm kind of proud.

Proud that once I decided to give breastfeeding a good shot, I did. Proud that I've done it in the middle of the night and at 4am and then again at 6am. Proud that I stuck with it in the early days and weeks when it hurt like hell. Proud that I worked through a bout of pending mastitis without panicking (too much). Proud that I spent some of my hard-earned wardrobe budget on good nursing bras. Proud that I didn't even give it up when it almost sidelined me with the equivalent of a running injury.

I can go on and on about the feats of my nursing Audrey this long. The lengths I've gone to to keep it up... Pumping on business trips with colleagues, in airports, in cars, in my office 3 times a day for 8 months, in the bathroom at an IU basketball game. Nursing in the backseat of the car, in the women's restroom at Nordstrom's, on a plane, at all of our friends' houses, in front of my dad and Blake's dad, poolside in Aruba. But I'll stop. I am proud. But I also feel like I've just been doing what I'm supposed to do and what my body is meant to do and what my baby wants me to do. So, no awards, trophies, or parades, please.

Besides, all mom's do their best to nourish their babies, whether it be with breastmilk or formula. And both take work. This post is not about that debate or putting anyone up or down. The fact that I've been able to do the breastfeeding thing this long is only a tribute to how lucky I am to have a private office at work (albeit, sans lock...), a super supportive husband and family, and a relatively flexible baby.

But here's where the true pride sets in... if the breastfeeding wasn't taking up enough of my free time, at 6 months, I started pulling double duty to feed Audrey. I started making her own baby purees. And then, and only then, did I face the biggest struggle of my Audrey-feeding-life. Peas. Frozen peas. Look simple enough, right? But the consistency after they come out of the blender? Sick. Vomitus. Slimer. Lumpy pond scum. Audrey-no-likey. The culprit? I never add enough water. Or, it appears that I add enough water but then when I go to reheat the frozen cubes in the micro, the water evaporates. And all I end up with is a dried out pea paste that I essentially have to rehydrate like space food. I wouldn't feed that to my dog. Okay. I would.

But that's a thing of the past. I finally did it, folks. Something to really be proud of. In-your-face proud of. I MADE THE PERFECT PEA PUREE. The perfect, most delicate balance of tender peas and cool, clear water from the Brita. The peas are vibrant green, despite the cooking, thanks to the coldest of cold ice baths. And the pour into the ice cube trays? MUAH! FANTASTICO! Even, clean, smooth. I can't wait for Audrey to try it. New favorite food. I just know it.

Making and serving breastmilk for 10 months? Piece of cake. The perfect pea puree. A real achievement. Drum major... start marching. I'm ready for my parade. A perfect pea pureed.

Kate

P.S. I'd also settle for a tropea.

Comments

  1. lol :) You are too funny. It's quite an accomplishment breastfeeding for that long - you should be proud! And I know exactly what you mean by the perfect pea puree.

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