Month: June 2013

Freakadeaky Soupballs

Freakadeaky Soupballs - image on https://megactsout.com
I usually hate cartoonish
pics, but this was sublime.

With all the challenges that I have not only overcome but conquered as a new mama, this has by far been one of the hardest: cutting back on the expletives. Dude. If you know me, I’m a bit of a sailor. Not in the “bravery on the ocean wide” way, but in the way that I occasionally slip a colorful expletive into my vocabulary.

But wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait — hold on a minute. That is right. I am a school librarian, and, yes, I do work with youngins. Let me tell you, especially on the frustrating days, it is tough not to sully the ears of the kids (not that they don’t hear it at home), but it’s part of my job to portray a certain social standard…so, I do just that. Educators are humans, though, and we all have our flaws. This is mine. (My only flaw. That’s right. No more. Mwahahahaha, couldn’t keep that in, teehee!! #tearwipe)

I also try to keep it clean on here, my tiny slice of the blogosphere pie. Oh, sure, once in awhile I let a “damn” or “hell” slip through, but usually I read and reread my posts so much that I edit out the nasties. After all, we’re in mixed company, and you never know who’s reading. Mister President. Sir Paul. Your majesty. How are you all on this fine, fine day? Splendiforous.

But, in my own home, things are a tad different. I let ’em fly. I’m also known to belch (hmm, maybe I am a sailor), but swearing happens far more simply because…well, I’ve got a bit of a temper.

Things that set me off? When the baby does the alligator death roll in the middle of changing him (every. single. time.)…when the cats meow LOUDLY after I set the baby down to sleep…when we’re running late…and any time I injure myself in the non-serious fashion (in a serious fashion, I tend to keep very much calm, somehow).

So, as you see, VERY life-altering, serious reasons for swearing, right? Not s’much. What can I say? It’s the Irish in me. I just have such a heated temper over the stupidest crap, and when the really important sh…tuff hits the fan, I’m pretty well able to handle it in a mature, calm fashion.

That being said, I’ve gotta try to clean up my act. I know that the baby understands what we’re saying now, for the most part, and probably has for quite some time (I’ve been in denial, what can I say?). In order to avoid the swears, I’m trying to come up with some replacement words, since we all know I can’t avoid getting my frustrations out verbally in some way, shape, or form.

Hence the blog title. Does anyone else have some expletive alternatives that, when you say them, sound SO silly that they make you laugh and forget what pissed you off in the first place? And if it can make the baby laugh at the same time, extra credit!

Slowing Down

Freakadeaky Soupballs - image on https://megactsout.comSo, we’ve officially been breastfeeding going on shy of 11 months now. It hasn’t been a rollercoaster, necessarily; maybe more like a walk with peaks and valleys, days that were natural and easy with others that brought about pain and frustration and a sense of failure.

I’m in the crux of one of those “am I failing?” moments right now. Since writing this last week, I’ve reverted to “natural and easy” but still thought it would benefit me (and some reading, maybe?) to share my thoughts. 🙂

See, there was a time that the little man was “demanding” about 28 – 30 ounces while at the sitter (plus feedings at home, possibly several throughout the night, at about 7+ oz. per feeding) and I could easily pump that much by lunchtime, and then some. I hate stores in the freezer, folks.

Now? It’s after 4pm. I have yet to reach tomorrow’s full amount, three bags of 4 ounces each. Yes, folks, 12 ounces, and I’m at about half. Plus, I have to try to store up 8 ounces for a sitter to feed him while Dave and I travel for an award ceremony this weekend. That being said, I may not be going, and that just sucks.

Of course, the Hadman is the #1 most important thing on Earth. Of course. But, my supply’s slowing down because his demand is less. The fact that we’ve made it this far in the world o’ nursing is miraculous, in my mind. Especially after his teeth came and he started using me (very rarely, but still!) as a chew toy with his razor sharp little grinders. And the day that I must’ve blown out a blocked duct while pumping only to see a bottle FULL of milk and blood, mixed together. And the early days of soreness and squirting and weird latching and gassiness (on his part) and screaming (on both of our parts). It is a bit of a feat, actually.

But, my goal — for myself, for my family, for Hadley — is to make it to one year. If we go past that, AWESOME! But, there will be so much to celebrate on this kid’s birthday, it’s ridiculous.

Now, it’s time for me to go brew some mother’s milk tea in this sweltering heat and do some meditating to reduce stress and hopefully pump up the ol’ pumping ability. I can see the finish line from here and I’m not giving up.