If you want to give me parenting tips...

I met my friend for a coffee today.
She gave me a lovely, homemade brownie, followed by another one.
At this point Captain sensed chocolate milk and climbed up for a feed.
My friend looked and commented; "It's good that she's still breastfeeding." This woke me from my chocolate induced dream. What, a positive comment on my parenting? Could it be?
While I looked at her, puzzled, she continued; "Just hope she'll want to stop soon. My relative had a daughter, who was nearly three and wouldn't stop feeding. She was big and it was difficult, and..."

At this point my lovely chocolate buzz was starting to wear thin, but there was enough sugar and caffeine in my system to keep me on my seat. (And a large toddler laying across my lap. That helped too...) So, instead of doing my usual trick of quick escape with no excuses, I actually answered.

"I'm happy to feed her until she self-weans. The fact, that the people I spend time with find feeding older children natural is a big help."

And then there was silence. A lovely silence, during which myself and Captain enjoyed the last crumbs and drops respectively.

What can we learn about this?
Well, if nothing else, take away this; If you want to give me parenting tips, feed me chocolate first.
Oh, and don't expect me to take it to heart.

Nourishment

When I was twelve, I developed an eating disorder. I managed to keep it a secret until I moved to live with my father at 14 and was hospitalised at 15 for depression, self-harming and eating disorders.

I stayed in hospital for about six months, during which time my parents nearly came to their first agreement in over a decade. I was to be given over to a foster family, who would also adopt me in the process. Somehow I managed to talk them out of it and on my release from the psychiatric ward I moved into my first apartment at the age of less than 16. I continued therapy for a good while, made plenty of mistakes along the way and never got out of my depression. The eating disorder also remained.

I told Hubby about this when I'd known him for approximately 24 hours. When I moved in with him, I made an effort to stop physically acting on my eating disorder, which obviously only hid the outer signs. At the time that was all I was capable of doing and it took all my strenght, but I was trying my best not to have a negative impact on then tiny Mr. Buttons.

When the time came to talk about having a family, one of the first things Hubby said was "You'll get bigger during pregnancy, what if that makes your eating disorder get worse again?" I said I would be careful to watch my thoughts and promise to get help.

When I did get pregnant and my bump started growing, I was so excited. It grew, grew and then grew some more. I loved it unconditionally. I rubbed it, sang to my baby and couldn't have cared less about my size. My cousin lovingly commenting "What the hell? Are you even pregnant, or do you just take after your father?!" just made me chuckle.

And then my little Captain was born. I loved her and I loved my flabby tummy. I loved every stretch mark, every newly highlighted vein in my breasts, everything. I loved it because it had been her home and kept her safe. Because it had done something so right, even after everything I had done to hurt it. Because it had forgiven me and grown something so perfect. Few short months of pregnancy did to me what years of professional help could not.

When I was leaving the hospital, I was given some leaflets. One of them was from LLL and it had one of the most beautiful thoughts I had ever heard. It said that a mother is a habitat for her baby. It made me cry then and it still moves me the same way now, 21 months later.

That gave me strenght in the first few weeks, when I was tender, scared and lonely. That my once useless body was still a home for my baby and that I was all the nourishment she needed. How could you do anything but love something that miraculous?

Fabulous Friday

An Irish woman, an English woman and a Finnish woman walk into a café...

Sorry, I've got no jokes. That was the highlight of my day today.
I met two of my favourite mamas in the world and got to chat about cloth nappies, boobs, osteopaths, wraps and plot a breastfeeding families' picnic. Books were mentioned too, but only briefly.

The kids played together and everyone was happy.

Then myself and the kids went to an indoor play area and had lots of fun. By the time we were leaving, poor little Captain was saying "Wheee, mama, whee!", while barely able to keep her eyes open. Mr. Buttons was sweating and drinking buckets of water. The smaller of the two was asleep within minutes of leaving the place, the bigger spent most of the walk home chatting to his newly found imaginary friends.

I've never seen the two of them happier to get back home. We got straight into our jammies, the kids had dinner and then we just chilled out with books for Captain and some telly time for big bro.

It appears my plan has worked. Both big and little are asleep, while I have managed to stay awake.
Now, to last until take away and some programs without talking animals or fast snails... (Graham Norton, don't let me down!)

Enjoy the start of your weekend!

Holiday at home

We've been out.
Walking, running, swinging, falling off things, climbing, blowing bubbles.
We've come in to eat and sleep. Naps happen in the wrap, as we walk.
(And one daily coffee break for mama. This is non-negotiable)
We're enjoying every ray of sunshine, while the school holidays are giving me time with my two buddies.
Today I managed to have an ice cream break with Mr. Buttons while Captain snoozed.
This made me very happy.

Also, made breastmilk lotion for the first time the other day and it's the stuff of legends!
Recipe can be found here. I'm using it on both myself and Captain and it's working wonders on our skin.

So I have no major news, just small big things. The kids are asleep, Hubby is home and I can hear a cup of coffee calling my name sweetly from the kitchen...

Hope you've had sunshine too!

Silent Sunday

The giant chocolate egg day

The Captain will only get chocolate flavoured breastmilk tomorrow.

Who am I fooling; she's been getting that for over a week now...

I take The Season of the Bunny seriously and practise for the final Sunday with passion,

eating any egg that doesn't roll away fast enough.

The total so far this year is five, I think. No shame.

I don't want any competition in the house, so Captain hasn't had any added sugar yet.

Because we are going to Nana's Easter party tomorrow, I got my little lady some plastic eggs and tiny chicks, so that she will have something special while the cousins are eating their treats.

I couldn't wait until the big day, so she has had hours of fun with her new little pals.

The delight in her face when she finds a chick is only equalled in cuteness by that extreme focus, when she tries to put them back in and close the egg.

Best three euro I've spent in years!

Now I will go and decorate my ridiculously chocolatey cake for tomorrow.

Happy Egg Day, Easter, Celebration of Spring!

Happy St. Patricks Day!

Dressing up, with attitude

She saw me wearing the hat and wanted it

I got this on my wedding day and wore it to the afters,

now I have my very own little Irish person to wear it.

How the time flies!

She kept it on for ages, to my surprise

Play dough shapes need lunch too

Climbing before the parade

Skateboard to follow soon...

We had fun, enjoyed the parade and met up with some friends.

When it all got a bit too tiring (read; when the Minion characters went away) the wrap and milkies were there to save the day.

I have learned that parades are better with a small friend and lack of hail.

Hope you had a great St. Patrick's Day!