Farewell Kindergarten

My Dearest Kindergarten Graduate,

The day I sent you off into your classroom for your first day of Kindergarten, I stood in the hallway that smelled like old books and fresh pencils with the other Kindergarten parents. We smiled and hugged you guys and said, “It’s going to be so great! You’re going to make so many new friends!” What you don’t know is that after you were inside, and we were instructed to move along now, we all went out for coffee and cried our eyes out.

I cried for a lot of reasons. I didn’t think my precious baby was ready for the full days away from me, having been a pretty constant companion of mine for the first five years of your life. And I wasn’t sure you were up for the challenge yet of sitting in your desk, listening to your teacher, and doing school work. Keeping you at the dinner table until you’re finished eating is plenty difficult. Mostly I cried because I knew you could do it, because you were such a BIG KID all of a sudden. You were not my baby anymore. Sending you off to school was one of those moments where I feel like I’m watching you grow right before my eyes.

I went to pick you up that afternoon, and you had on a paper bracelet that announced “Kindergarten is fun!” And you were jazzed to go back the next day. You had made a bunch of new friends already, and you had done some really fun things that you proceeded to tell me about for the remainder of the day.

You’ve had a few hiccups along the way, but overall you have done so well. You soared academically, and made amazing strides socially, strides that a year ago when you were graduating preschool, I’d never have guessed you could have made. You’re not a real fan of homework, but who among us is, really.

So, we bid adieu to Kindergarten. It was a fun, exciting, challenging year full of new adventures and new horizons. Congratulations on completing the first of your 13 years of schooling. May first grade and all the grades to come be as magical and empowering and fulfilling as Kindergarten was for you.

I love you so much, and I am so proud of you!



In the Blink of an Eye. And the Yank of a Tooth.

Bowie lost his first tooth!

His class has a tooth chart of some sort, I don’t know a thing about it, he just comes home from school every day with a new tooth chart report of who lost a tooth and who was about to lose a tooth. A few of his classmates have lost 4 or 5 over the course of the school year, and he was beginning to fear he would leave Kindergarten and not have left his mark on the tooth chart.

So, a month or so ago when his two front bottom teeth started feeling a little “wiggly”, the kid was so jazzed, I thought his head was going to explode.

The one that fell out kept getting looser and looser and looser (not as fast as he wanted) until he was able to push it all the way horizontal with his tongue.

It was pretty obvious to us that night that it would fall out VERY soon, and we didn’t want it to fall out in bed, or him to swallow it in his sleep or something. So, we coached him along, and eventually it just popped out. He was very relieved that it didn’t hurt, and he thought it was pretty cool how much it bled.

Now he’s got a big gap, and the tooth next door is also very wiggly, so that gap could probably get bigger. And cuter.

The little dude is about to turn 6. That’s S. I. X. I was in mega denial, but this milestone kinda seals the deal: he’s a bona fide big kid now.


One year, you guys! ONE YEAR! How has it been an entire YEAR already?

One minute, you’re fumbling with putting a newborn into a carseat, and the next minute you’re picking out a big, chocolatey cupcake for them to tear into.

In some ways, I CAN’T believe that an entire year has slipped by. It has gone so fast! But, then I look back at the many things our little family has been through this past year and ok, it really HAS been a year. Much to this mama’s chagrin. I’m still trying to wrap my head around Kindergarten, and then the baby has to go and turn one. Good grief.

So yeah, Ferris. One. Already. From snuggly little ball of baby love to dimply big boy toddler. So fast!

Likes: kitchen drawers, swimming class, brother, brother’s room, milk, graham crackers, baths, sitting in shopping carts, music, pooping in his sleep in the middle of the night, books, cars, trucks and kitty’s water bowl.

Dislikes: diaper changes, wipeouts, leaving brother’s room, people who eat in front of him and don’t share, sippy cups, washcloths, hats, the safety straps on shopping carts and me going to the bathroom before getting him from his crib in the morning.

He is starting to talk a lot, mostly just using his favorite phrases, “What’s this?” and “What’s that?” But he says mama and dada, and knows how to ask for a baba. He’s learning to say brother and Bowie. When you hand him a Matchbox car, he says vroom. And he has a sign that he makes, where he points with his right index finger at his open left palm. I never taught my boys to sign, so I’m not sure what it means. And it probably doesn’t mean whatever it’s supposed to mean. At first I thought it meant “more”, because he’s usually doing it in his high chair. But, I’m not so sure. Time will tell, I suppose.

He’s been “walking” for a while now. He likes to take a few steps, and then just crawl the rest of the way because it’s faster. But, but, BUT, it’s like he knew his birthday was coming or something because yesterday, after his afternoon nap, he was walking all over the house, hardly crawling at all. And this morning he was (literally) doing laps around the living room. He is READY to be on the MOVE. (Gulp.)

Dear Ferris,

I’d like to tell you that I hope the next few years of your life go much slower than this one did, but I know from experience that just isn’t possible. So instead I will just tell you to have fun now that you’re a not a baby anymore.

You’re a toddler. You’re a KID. Still snuggly and soft like a baby, but a little less so with each passing day. You’re toddling around the house like Frankenstein today, but tomorrow, you’ll take off running into the big wide world.

The past year has been an exciting one for our whole family, and you were along for the ride, no complaints, like a little trooper. Thank goodness for baby carriers and helpful family members.

Now that brother is in school all day, we get to spend lots of one-on-one time together. For one year, until you start preschool. So, I want to enjoy it as much as I can. I look back on that time with Bowie so fondly, I can’t wait to see what adventures we go on.

This time (press time, noon-ish) last year, I wasn’t even in labor yet, but little did I know I’d be cuddling you by 9 p.m. And then the real adventure began, because your arrival made me a Mom of Two. Uff-da.

Love you baby, ahem, big boy,



Eleven Months

Ferris is eleven months old today! I can’t believe it. Here’s a few shots of him at eleven months:

Yes, he’s full-on standing now. Not walking quite yet, but standing for LONG periods of time, with impeccable balance, and trying to take steps here and there.

We were sure that because he had crawled so much earlier than Bowie that he’d be walking by now, but he’s not. It’s not far off though, he did take one step forward unassisted a few days ago. And we keep meeting other babies his age who are full-on walking. So, I know it’s coming. I’m bracing myself. He’s already basically into EVERYTHING.

Also, it used to be, I threw one kid’s birthday party, at the beginning of each summer, and then I was done. Now, I have to throw another one at the end of every summer. I did NOT take this into account when I decided to have another child. So, let the party planning begin! (Blergh.)

Dear Ferris,

You are turning 11 months old today. The last of the “months” birthdays before you are a full year, and we just start keeping track of age in years. And you’re doing this two days before your brother starts Kindergarten. What are you guys trying to do to me?!

I’m trying to just take heart in the fact that most of the time, people assume you’re much older than one. But you’re not yet. You’re still my little guy, still an “infant”. (Though barely.) You still take bottles, you still crawl, you still eat purees most of the time. You can’t talk yet, you still take a bunch of naps all day. Still a baby.

But, you’re also so much not a baby anymore in so many ways. You’re pointing, waving, clapping and giving high-fives. You’re taking tiny little steps. You’re feeding yourself all kinds of foods that are not pureed. You laugh at farts. You grab candy off the shelves at the grocery store. You’re a little boy now.

I welcome your first birthday though. With your brother in school all day, I’ll be able to go out and do all the museums and story times and playgroups like I got to do with your brother. We’ll have a good year of mama and Ferris time. I’m really looking forward to it.

Not much else to say, hon. You’re a bit different from last month, a little different than you’ll be next month, I’m sure. But these days you’re not changing so much. You’re just who you are: Ferris. Ferris who likes peas and salmon and pinto beans and chicken and corn and turkey but won’t touch strawberries with a ten-foot pole. Ferris who likes to drink his bottles all alone, with no one around, no matter how much mama tries to cuddle with him and bond with him while he eats. Ferris who would much rather crawl back to Bowie’s room and play with all those awesome big boy toys than play with those silly baby toys.

My sweet baby. For now.

Love you,


Ten Months

Dear Ferris,

I JUST started getting used to saying that you were 9 months old, and now you’ve gone and turned 10 months old already! That last month went lickety split.

We are in the home stretch now, the first birthday is just 2 months away. TWO MONTHS. That’s only 8 weeks. EIGHT WEEKS. Then you can try all the things, my adventurous little eater. Milk! Nuts! Honey! Eggs! Berries! (Wait, you’ve been eating eggs and berries for a while now, WHOOPS.)

Socially, you are blossoming. You like to “talk” to other babies. Like, A LOT. Social butterfly already. You’re a little wary of grown ups you don’t know super well, and you hide your head in mama’s shoulder. You LOVE to snuggle with mama, and you give such great baby hugs and kisses. THE BEST.

You’re not walking yet, but you’re darn close. You’re cruising furniture like a boss, and you like to pull stunts like this:

And you can climb stuff now, so when I turn my back you’re pulling stunts like this:

You want to do everything big brother Bowie can do! And you’re not afraid to try! Just ask the half dozen bruises you have on your big noggin at any given moment. Good thing you are a second kid, and not a first kid, or they’d have to put me in a padded room.

You’re way ahead of where Bowie was at your age with the crawling and walking and climbing stuff. But on other stuff, you’re doing things a lot differently. You’re taller than Bowie was at your age, but roughly the same weight. Which has made pants shopping a bit of a challenge. ALREADY. Man, just wait until those teen years! Also, Bowie was waking up with dry diapers by 11 months old, and you’re filling up diapers made especially for overnight like you’re testing the integrity of the product (p.s. Pampers, he leaked through one last night.)

It’s funny, I feel like the last month zipped by, but I can also see how far you’ve come in just one month. Growing and changing and becoming a little man right before our very eyes.

Love you, sweetness! Here’s to another great month!







Today Bowie had to go to the pediatrician for his 5 year check up, which also involved getting shots and tests done so his doctor could fill out this very official looking yellow sheet of paper for the school district.

My first plan of attack when I made the appointment was to stay mum on the subject of shots until the moment of truth, so he wouldn’t get scared and nervous and all of that. But then yesterday during summer preschool circle time, it was announced that a fellow Kindergarten-bound classmate had gotten her shots that very morning, and could everyone please be extra gentle today.

Bowie asked me, “Do I have to get shots too, mom?”

Oh geez.

“Well yes, buddy, actually tomorrow.”

And then he commenced to completely freak out for the rest of the afternoon, through the night, and into this morning.

“I’m NOT getting shots!”

“I’m sorry, but you have to.”

“No I DON’T!”

“Well, then I’m sorry, you won’t be able to go to Kindergarten.”

“Ok, fine, I don’t want to go to Kindergarten anymore!”

Over and over. Lather, rinse, repeat.

This morning, after long talks about bravery and camaraderie (all his friends will also be getting shots) and hugs from mom and permission for Fox to accompany us to the doctor, he finally announced about 3 minutes before we had to walk out the door that, “Ok. I will go.”

He did great while getting his blood pressure taken, and getting measured, and getting poked and prodded. He told her he was nervous about the shots, and they talked a bit about it. Up until this point, I thought there were only 2 shots, but he also needed a TB test, which counts as a shot I suppose. So, he was a bit perturbed that there were three pokes and not two.


She’s like, “Oh, I see here he needs some lab work. He hasn’t had any done since he was a baby so I suppose we should take care of that today too.”


We leave her exam room, and she gives him a book as a special reward, and she tells me to sit in the waiting area and the lab technician will call us back in very soon.

So we go back out and he’s on cloud 9, thinking he’s done. But, I say no, we have to wait, hang on. We read his new book, and then they called us back in. And he asks with a very worried look, “Why are we going in here?”

I sat in the chair and put him in my lap, as she requested I do, and then I whispered, “You need one more shot.”

It was an unexpected poke in an unfamiliar room from an unfamiliar (albeit very friendly and sweet) medical professional and suddenly…he was sobbing on my shoulder. “I don’t want this shot mom, I REALLY don’t want this shot.”

Oh my good HEAVENS was my heart breaking for him. (And also secretly I was loving that he was needing me so much in that moment!) But then, she inserted the needle, he sat back, and even had a LOOK at it (something I’ve never been able to do) and he said, “Well, that didn’t hurt so bad. I guess I was really brave!”

He’s sad and sore, but he went to school today. And it’s all over now.

And my brave boy gets to go to Kindergarten.


Nine Months

Hey Ferris,

You’re nine months old today. Stop it. Just stop it! Stop growing up!

But seriously.


You’re a heaping hunk of kiddo, weighing in at 22 pounds and wearing mostly 12 month clothing already. I actually bypassed most of the 9 month sized clothing I had saved from Bowie’s baby days, and took them directly to the kids’ consignment shop, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

You are currently (and very ungracefully) cutting your 7th tooth, maybe the 8th too, but you hardly ever let us in for a peek. I just have to guess by your behavior and appetite and sleeping patterns, and then a few fussy days later get a glimpse of the little grain of rice tooth poking through.

You also have a terrible, unsightly, and I’m sure painful red rash all over your face. I am pretty sure it’s from all the drool you get all over your face, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s it. I started cutting some stuff out of your diet to see if it has any effect. Time will tell. In the meantime, I’ve gotten the 50th different brand of ointment/cream/lotion to put on it that was recommended, so we’ll see if that helps too.

You aren’t walking yet. THANK GOODNESS. Exhale. I really thought you would be. BUT, you are also not far off. You are cruising around coffee tables and park benches like you’re  some kind of one year old or something. Your brother was MUCH older when he started this business. So, you know, you could slow down ANY TIME NOW.

I love how adventurous I am with your food. Yes, me. Not you, me. I was a little hesitant to introduce certain foods to your big brother, and I’m kicking myself in the butt for it. But, I also was more eager to introduce him to things (such as, JUICE, the five-letter J-demon) which I deeply regret. Thank you for drinking bottles full of water at meal time. I am 5 years ahead of schedule with cutting juice out of your diet. Mom win.

At the moment, there’s one 8-ounce bag of breast milk in the freezer. It’s our last, and I can’t decide if I’d rather save it for a rainy day, or just give it to you now. All I do know is that the other night, I thawed our second to last bag and spilled half of it on the counter trying to get it into the bottle, and then cried myself to sleep that night. Still not over the fact that your one year birthday is still 3 months away, but we are not nursing anymore. I know you’re ok, and healthy, and thriving, and still love me and all of that.

Love you too kiddo. Like, SO much.




Bowie crawled in bed with us at 4 a.m. on his birthday, something about bad dreams. And when he woke up, he turned to look at Brien and the first thing out of his mouth was, “Am I five now?”

He has been looking forward to being five since the day after he turned four. And the day finally came. It was a bright, sunny day, perfect for celebrating a birthday. AND for graduating from preschool. Yes, these happened on the same day. After graduation, we skipped grad parties and drove around in Brien’s VW (aka Daddy’s Race Car) through the park and past the beach. Then we took him out to his favorite neighborhood restaurant for a cheese quesadilla, spanish rice and refried beans–his ultimate meal. After that, we walked to the beach, played with one of the two sets of stomp rockets he got as gifts, and caught a gorgeous sunset. It was a whirlwind of a day for all of us, but in the end so, so joyous and amazing.

Saturday we had his birthday party at our house. It was a rock and roll themed party, so things got fairly hectic. If anyone reading this was around to witness my Mommy Meltdown, I have to apologize to you. Retrospectively, it was a really awesome birthday party, but to have to deal with messes and preschooler arguments and where the pizzas will go and when we will do the cake, all while kids are hitting drums and cymbals as hard as they can, well it can really take the wind out of your sails.

Sunday was The Big Show for his second session of Rock Band Land. He killed it. All the kids killed it. So awesome. I’m actually sad that Bowie won’t be taking it again until September, it has an amazing effect on him. We went to pick him up after rehearsal and he was as chipper as can be. And he sat (mostly) quietly in my lap for the whole show until his performance. I can’t remember the last time he willingly sat still in my lap. And because he loves music and his rock band so much, we decided his big present this year would be this:

Dearest, sweetest Bowie,

I look at you today and I am amazed. You’re so far from baby or even toddler. You’re a bona fide kid now. You’re all limbs and smiles and blonde hair.

You’re super sensitive, and the world doesn’t always understand you. On top of that, you have been through a lot in the past year, but your moxie is still shining through.

You were diagnosed with SPD, just over a year ago. Which on the one hand was so helpful for all of us to know, and we are working to get past it. But on the other hand is so difficult to know and to deal with. I never wanted you to have the sensitive childhood I had, and it breaks my heart to see you dealing with too much sound, too much light, too much touch. Life is hard enough without the extra troubles. But, I can tell you’re a lot more resilient than your mama. And now that we know what’s going on, we can tailor your world for you.

This year, you also became a big brother. Which I know was very difficult for you. To go from being the center of everyone’s world to having to share that spotlight with someone else. But you’re a champ. And that little brother is already looking up to you with some mega admiration. I hope you can and want to set great examples for him in all of your life.

This year you also started Rock Band Land! You have been having SO MUCH FUN making music with Brian and Marcus, and performing at the Big Show. We’re going to look into getting you lessons for any instrument you want–even drums! It was one of the best moments of my life to see your reaction when you first saw your new guitar. You had an amazed and bewildered look on your face, and you turned around and gave your daddy a giant hug, and then gave me a giant hug. And you said thank you over and over all day. You also ran to your room and hand selected a toy for each of us from your collection to say thanks. It was so sweet!

There’s a very, very sweet boy inside of you that I wish the world could see as much as we do. I wish I could walk by your side for the rest of your life to help explain your “bad” and “erratic” behavior to people, but I won’t be able to. But today, I remind myself, you’re only five, and I can still help out for now. We’ll keep working on it, and we’ll get there someday.

My litte rock star. So excited to turn five, so excited to start Kindergarten. Excited to grow up to be “an astronaut. Or a race car driver.”

Future’s so bright, you gotta wear shades.

Five is climbing the dunes at the beach by yourself. Five is not always having to hold hands to cross the street. Five is electric guitars and remote control cars. From where I sit, five is going to be pretty awesome.

Have a great year buddy, I love you.



Eight Months

Ferris is eight months old now people. EIGHT. MONTHS. I can’t believe it! Two-thirds of the way through is first year already. Insane!

As for how breastfeeding is going…it’s complicated. Just three hours after I hit publish on my last post, he refused to nurse, and I haven’t been able to get him to nurse since. Which is gut-wrenching. He’s only 8 months old. I really wanted to go for much longer.

And while I think I still will be able to provide breast milk for him to drink, I don’t think I can provide enough for him to subsist on just that, at least for the next few months, so I’m trying slowly to work formula back into the equation. It’s difficult to pump and keep up with his appetite, but I’m trying a bunch of stuff suggested by my lactation consultant friends, and I hope to up the supply just a bit. I’m not sure how this will all shake out, but my end goal is to offer a mix of breast milk and formula and hope he gets what he needs out of it. I never envisioned pumping to be THIS huge of an ordeal. Nor did I ever expect him to fully and completely reject nursing. Or would seriously have just put up with all the biting. I’m frustrated and sad and mom-guilting myself to death.


Dear Ferris,

You are growing and changing so fast right now! Outgrowing clothes, crawling like a machine and eating real solid food by your very own self.

Last month, you were crawling backwards, and rolling and scooting your way around the house, but just a few short weeks after I wrote that post, you were not only crawling forward, but also starting to pull yourself to stand with furniture. And not only are you pulling yourself to stand, but also getting brave and letting go and trying to take steps. Slow down kid! You’re only 8 months old! You’ll be tearing around this house in no time, I’m sure. Grandma told me that your uncle was walking by 10 months, which I never knew before, so I guess it’s in your blood to get up and get moving. Now, if we could just avoid all your little wipeouts, so when I take you out in public I’m not so embarrassed by the bruises all over your head!

You have four teeth now, and I’m pretty sure you’re about to get two more. Which is what got us in all the trouble with nursing to begin with. You want to bite. You LOVE to BITE. I have to be careful what I let you get your hands on, because you will bite the ever-loving crap out of anything that gets near you. I hope that soon, you will start to teeth a little more gracefully. So we can all just get some SLEEP.

More and more of your personality is shining through each day. I can tell by the foods you like and the foods you reject, the toys you spend more time with and the toys that stay at the bottom of the basket, and the things you watch us do and the things you ignore, just what kind of little man you’ll become soon. But, also in a lot of other ways, you’re a blank slate. This first year is the most amazing time to be a parent, everything is shifting and changing and developing so fast. It’s like being able to watch a flower bloom in real time.

We have had a hard week, you and me, figuring out where we both stand with one another when it comes to nursing and bottle feeding. But, I think we may have found a balance finally. I’m so sorry I couldn’t nurse you as long as I wanted, or even as long as I nursed your brother. But, I feel like I really am doing what is best for the both of us. Which is all that really matters in the end.

I love you my sweet bug.



Chew Toy

I have a little dilemma with Ferris lately. This actually started out as part of a draft for Ferris’ 8 month birthday post, but I got so into detail about it, I figured it warranted its own post. And maybe someone can lend some much-needed advice.

Ferris is completely and fully refusing formula. And the way I go on and on about how much I ADORE breastfeeding and it’s the bomb and I want to breastfeed forever and blah blah blah, you’d think I wouldn’t even have tried formula to begin with, let alone would have an issue with my kid not liking it.

And really, I don’t have an issue. When I had my lymph node surgery back in March, I couldn’t breastfeed for 24 hours. So I pumped and I pumped and I pumped and I PUMPED to prepare for that day, because Ferris was not quite doing solids yet and was nursing every hour on the hour, around the clock, and I didn’t have a lot of extra milk to part with. Needless to say, we still fell a bit short, and later in the day resorted to the canister of formula that Similac sent us in the mail. And he drank it. Drank it like a champ. So, for a while we came to rely on it. If, for example, I’d had a few margaritas or we had a sitter with the boys for a few hours. I hate pumping, LOATHE pumping, so rather than pump for such occasions, we’d just offer formula. And little by little, he lost his taste for it. Until one night, we are at Kindergarten orientation at Bowie’s new school, and my poor young, childless Brother in Law is watching the boys and lo and behold, Ferris will NOT drink the bottle of formula he made, and instead chose to then scream for the next full hour until we got home. And I tried to give him the bottle when we got home, thinking it was just that he wasn’t as familiar with my Brother in Law, but he literally slapped the bottle out of my hand.

And then I thought it was just a bottle thing. He doesn’t like bottles, he only likes the breast. I tried a few different kinds of bottles, and then one day just decided I’d try a bottle of breast milk instead of formula and, well, it was gone in less than two minutes. It’s not a bottle thing, it’s a formula thing.

(And immaturely, but c’mon, hilariously, I can’t help but hear this song in my head when I’m nursing now.)

Ok, so you’re thinking, “This is still not an issue, girlfriend. Breastfeeding comes naturally to you, you have a good supply, just don’t use the formula. Duh.”

But, an interesting thing has started happening. He has teeth now, and is BITING me. He is BITING HARD. ALL THE TIME. It’s gotten to the point that every time I go to nurse, I am really, really anxious and scared I’m going to get bitten again. It’s like that moment before you get a shot at the doctor’s office. You know it’s coming, you know it’s going to hurt like hell, and there’s not a lot you can do about it. Except to preemptively wince, and hope it’s not as bad as it was last time. (But it will be.)

Bowie bit me two times when he was nursing. After the first time, I RAN to the nearest computer and googled “how to get your baby to never bite your boob never ever again ever.” The basic gist of what I read was to end the nursing session immediately, and don’t offer to nurse again until the next regular time they’d be hungry. And that worked, but a week later he bit again so I did the same thing again and? He never bit while nursing again.

I’ve tried this trick with Ferris about…I don’t know…I’ve lost track…ONE THOUSAND TIMES?!

I thought I could just power through, that it would eventually stop being an issue, that everything will work itself out. Only, that was a month ago. And it hasn’t stopped, or even slowed, it has INCREASED in occurrences. I’ve had to take breaks from nursing (via pumping) to heal up, only to be bitten again 10 minutes into the next nursing session.

I know that this is because he is using me as a pacifier. I mentioned months ago that he nurses for comfort a lot. And since he’s teething and all, he’s wanting to nurse for comfort all the time. And when he’s nursing to eat, all is fine. But when he’s nursing for comfort, then come the bites. Because the kid’s teeth hurt, and he wants to bite things. I’m not faulting him for this, he’s just doing what is helping him feel better.

And I wanted to nurse him for a long time. Longer than I did with Bowie (13 months). But, I don’t see this happening anymore. We’ll suffer through our year, and then move on. It really sucks, when I give him a bottle and he looks up at me with that confused look on his face. We don’t get to have that special bond anymore. Ugh.

But, I can’t go on living like this! I am not a chew toy!

So, the only real solution here is to pump and feed him breast milk from bottles from here on out. But, I’m having problems with that.

Did I mention how much I hate pumping? I hate pumping. I have to sit still for like 20 minutes at a time while I do it (which is not so easy with your little crawler getting into this and that and the other and a 5 year old getting into everything else while you’re doing that). And it does feel better than being bitten, but it’s still pretty painful. And the milk doesn’t flow as easily as it does if you’re just nursing your baby. Pumping = the suck.

I also can’t seem to build up a surplus, which is essential right now, because Ferris is still waking between 2 and 5 times a night to nurse, and I’d need at least a few ounces for each of those times. Also, for when we’re out and about for the day. Unless I want to bring my pump with and try to pump in public somehow, somewhere. (I always knew full-time working moms who pumped had it bad, but the thought of pumping away from home has given me an entirely new respect for them.)

So, I have a bunch of questions for you guys. Like, has anyone reading this done this with their babies? How often did you have to pump? Did you have ways of increasing supply? How did you fit pumping into your regular routine? What did you do about overnight feedings?

Also, when is it really ok to start cow’s milk? Do I really need to wait until he’s 12 months? The formula was milk-based and he tolerated it well, which I once read is an indication that they’ll do fine with cow’s milk. But I also know they have a hard time digesting it.

But, it’s only 4 more months. I will make it one way or another. I’m just hoping I’ve endured my last bite to the boob.

That crap hurts.