Lesson #10: Our First Last

Dear Baby,

I officially stopped breast feeding you yesterday.  It was a perfect, sun-drenched, baby blue sky type of day and I was putting you down for your afternoon nap. It was a nice way to say "goodbye" to this lovely adventure called breastfeeding.

The reasons why yesterday was THE DAY are many.  First, you don't seem to need it anymore now that you are eating many different types of foods and drinking cow's milk.  And, really, you have already weaned yourself...just taking to the boob for a few minutes before you sleep.  Secondly, I will be going back to work soon and need to stop anyway.  Third, I made it to fourteen months.  My goal was a year and I breast fed you for a glorious sixty days longer than I anticipated...so, it seemed like this was as good a time as any.  And, and, and I was going to the dermatologist because mommy's skin is like that of a pizza-faced teen and I knew that the derm would inject my cystic acne with cortisone (God I hope you have your father's milky perfect complexion...so far, so good) and I knew that I couldn't breastfeed you after that.  Plus, there is the matter of the ulcer I've had since I was three months pregnant that I was told I couldn't treat until I was done breastfeeding.  So, alas, it came time for mommy to get sorted  on the inside and out.  And so, yesterday became the last time.  

I was singing to you, as I do.  This time it was a mix of "You are my sunshine", "Edelweiss" and a made up song called "Izzy Girl" that is reminiscent of a Supreme's tune.  I looked at your face while you drank and wondered if you knew it was the last time, too.  You looked even more angelic that normal--which, c'mon, is pretty angelic.  You would stop drinking after a few chugs and smile, my nipple still in your mouth.  It made me laugh.  And that made you laugh.  I wondered if you would miss it the way, I knew, I would.  You resumed drinking.  I tried to memorize everything about the moment.  How the room was a pleasant temperature with the breeze from your open window gently providing a little cool.  The breeze had the faint small of jasmine that your dad planted when we first moved into the house five years ago.  The jasmine is quite impressive now, filling our yard and pleasing our noses whenever we step foot onto our back deck.  You were wearing the super soft pink polka dot ensemble and while I fed you, you playfully pulled off your socks, as you do.  Then you took your naked feet and put them up to my mouth and I immediately began to kiss and nibble them.  More laughter from us both.  

I tried to hide my tears from you.  I sang as pretty as I could but my voice kept cracking with my sobs.  You and I have been experiencing so many "firsts" and it pained me to be experiencing a "last".  There was a heartache in me that was bittersweet.  Because I feel that it was one of the great privileges of my life to be able to breastfeed you.  I've had so many girlfriends that have had trouble with it so I feel ridiculously grateful to have been able to do it.  To have done it as long as I did.  To have been your only source of nutrition.  I loved every moment of it, baby.  Even the pumping in the car on the way home from meetings.  The checking my milk with fancy alcohol detection strips on the occasional night I'd have a bottle of beer to make sure the milk was safe for you to drink.  The pain when the detection strip told me that I had to toss the milk I pumped and I had to watch the liquid gold make it's way down the sink. The waking up at odd hours to pop a boob into your mouth so that we could both go back to the land of Nod.  It was all perfection.  

How is this a lesson?  Well, I suppose the lesson is: "Cherish every moment".  I know.  It's so cliche even I want to vomit all over myself.  And assholes use cliches instead of forming original thought so we must do better. But every cliche is a cliche for a reason, eh?  Perhaps behind, even the cheesiest ones, there is a morsel of something real and wise.  Or perhaps the lesson is that sometimes the things you fear end up being some of your favorite things in life.  Because I wasn't sold on breast feeding, if I'm being completely honest.  Oh, I was committed to doing it.  Was dead set on doing it for a year.  But I am not someone that likes their nipples being touched and played with (oh, baby, I'm so sorry on some level that you now know that)...and I feared and did not look forward to breastfeeding.  And here we are, fourteen months later,  and I will miss it terribly.  And I it will be one of the things I look forward to when I have the next baby--your little brother or sister...a few years from now.  

Yes, let's make that the lesson.  Sometimes the things you fear may end up being some of the best things that ever happen to you.

I love you tons and tons,

Mommy

Lesson #9: One Size Doesn't Fit All

Dear Baby,

You will hear a lot over the course of your life about size. I wish that wasn't the case but all I can hope is that I will instill enough good self esteem in you so that your focus is on fit not size. Fit is a whole other thing. Fit is what you want to be. Fit means being "in good health". And I wish always for you to be healthy, baby.

Fit also means how clothes "fit" you. Buy clothes that fit well. Don't buy clothes based on size. Often people are so obsessed with wanting to be a particular size that they wear ill fitting clothes. Then they walk around muffin topping out of a pair of size 2 jeans as opposed to just buying the size 4 that actually "fits". Those size 2's make an asshole out of them baby. And your mother has been that asshole one time too many. Learn from my mistake.

Focusing on being fit also will encourage you to go out into the world and move. Being a healthy person means going on walks and playing sports or even just dancing in the living room to your favorite song. My goal is to raise you in an active home, to encourage you to eat healthfully and to put focus on fitness and balance.

Another reason I don't want you to focus on size is because you probably won't be big in stature. As the daughter of a woman who is 5'1" on a good day and a father that is 5'9 on a better day, you probably won't be tall. I won't sugar coat it, baby, you probably won't be average. You'll probably be small. And you can see this as a call to be big in how you live your life. I, as a small lady, have always tried to live big and I highly recommend it. In good news, you will probably have small feet which means you'll get great deals at shoe sales as people rarely have small feet. Also, sometimes you can shop at children's stores...I do from time to time. So, there are perks. And mostly, from a scientific standpoint (sortof) we are very economical. We require less natural resources to stay alive. Less food. Less oxygen. Less space. Being small makes us naturally green and while our shoes are small so is our carbon footprint.

So, let's not focus on size, baby. As it turns out, size doesn't matter.
xo, Mom

Lesson #8: Lies

Dear Baby,
Today, as I was changing your diaper a large piece of your solid poo dropped onto the changing mat next to you. You were about to grab it when, without even flinching, I grabbed it and disposed of it in your fancy VIPP diaper pail. I was so proud of myself for not even flinching! Picking up your poo was a no brainer. Man, how this year has changed me! It is such a pleasure to be your mommy, baby. To keep you clean and fed and smiling. Your smile is the best payment there is. And that is no lie.

But there are other lies, baby. Lies that others will tell you, lies you will tell other and lies you will tell yourself. Lies suck. Assholes lie easily. It's like breathing for them. So, we need not to lie. What lying does is poisonous. Because it makes you unaccountable. And, as strong women, we need to own up to who we are, mistakes me make and why we do or don't do things...honestly.

If you are running late, or didn't do your homework, or forgot a birthday it is important to own up to that. Say you are sorry (that's whole other lesson, coming soon) and move on with a clear conscience. Yes, people might get mad at you but maybe that's good. Maybe seeing them get upset and hurt because of your behavior will make it so you don't do that again. Maybe it will make you grow as a person. So, own up to your mistakes and don't make excuses. No one likes people who make excuses.

Often people lie because they think by doing so they won't get into trouble or won't hurt someones feelings. Feeling are tricky. Because this type of lie, ones the relate to other people, are not about our own accountability. And that is where the "white" lie enters the picture.

"White" lies can be dangerous. But, I suppose, kind lies are sometimes necessary. "Does this dress make my ass look big?" That is the perfect example of a question that may require a kind lie. What if it does? Then, maybe you shouldn't be completely truthful. Maybe a kind lie is okay. But only sometimes, baby.

Even in those precarious circumstances, I would encourage you to try to find some truth and say that truth instead of the "white" lie. If a friend asks if the dress makes them look fat you can focus on their eyes or feet or hair. Something that is beautiful about them and compliment that instead. Or, you can use a trick that Sister Mary Fidelis, my old grade school principle, told me. You can always say the word "amazing" and still be technically correct. "The dress looks amazing"...doesn't mean it looks good. You can also say "awesome" or "unforgetable" or "it makes a statement", etc. So, I have just given you ways to be honest even in tricky sensitive situations without lying. The word "amazing" has gotten your mommy out of many sticky situations.

Don't be a liar. You are better than that. And, once you have caught someone in a lie, which has happened to me on numerous occasions, you won't want to be the person doing the lying. It's cowardice, baby. And this momma didn't raise no coward.

I love you honestly and truthfully. Poop and all.
xo, Mommy