Almost a tear

I had been dreaming about it for a long time. Fantasising about all of the things I could get done. Giddy over the thought of having a day all to myself. A day where I wouldn’t be up to my elbows in someone else’s poop. I had been counting down the days with delight.

And then that beautiful day arrived. I drove the kids to daycare, Daniel’s very first day, Hannah’s very last. But there was no happy dance. Not even a gigantic smile. Instead, I nearly cried. Yes, me.  

After I spent way too long telling Mel (who looks after the kids at her house, it’s family daycare) all the ins and outs of Daniel’s sleep routine, what he likes, doesn’t like, etc. I stood there for a bit, not wanting to leave, but knowing I needed to. I had to step out that door, and leave my baby behind. Just for the day.

What if he cried for me? What if he wanted to come over to me and give me one of his trademark affectionate head butts? What if he was overtired and couldn’t get to sleep? What if he missed me so much he just couldn’t settle down? What if he didn’t eat his lunch because I wasn’t around and the whole thing was just so new/weird/different? Would he be ok without me? Would he go from room to room searching for me? Would he be happy? Oh my gosh, what if he wasn’t?!

It was easier the first day I dropped Hannah off at Mel’s. She was two and a half. She could talk. She understood what was going on. She wanted to go. I know because she told me.  She was older, I knew she’d be ok.

I know you’re all wondering, am I going back to work? Is that why I put him in daycare? No. I intend to do a lot of house chores, and finally finish my book (the one about pregnancy). Research shows it’s actually good for kids to go to daycare a day or two a week once they turn one. Plus I plan to start uni next year, so I wanted him to be very settled in his care and start slow, with just the one day per week.

Before I even finished explaining Daniel’s sleep routine, he was off. He high-tailed it to the toy room and didn’t look back. I went in before I left to say goodbye and let him know I’d be back later (And of course to give Hannah a hug and kiss too.) I expected a stream of tears, yelling, and him looking up at me with those sad puppy dog eyes while he hugged my leg.

Instead, he turned straight back to the toys. So I left.

I thought about him all day. Wondering how he was doing. If he was crying, or sad, hungry, confused, etc. I managed to hold off texting Mel until mid day when I couldn’t take it any longer. So I wrote to her “How’s he going?”

“He’s loving exploring around.” She wrote back.

He even went to sleep without much fuss. I know he does that here all the time, but not without me reading to him, singing to him, and giving him a kiss and putting him in his own cot. Not without me. 

He was fine all day. He didn’t cry or get upset. He didn’t wander around saying “mommy, mama,” while sticking his bottom lip out. Not at all. He played. He explored. He had a great time. He did just fine. Which is great, but the selfish part of me wanted him to miss me. Wanted him to call out for me. To be a little bit sad when I left.

I know, that sounds terrible, and I’m really happy that he did so well. I’m sure I’m not the only mom who feels this way. I’m really hoping he does just as well this week. Last week he had Hannah there with him, but this week she started preschool. Consequently, she won’t be at daycare with Daniel. Hopefully he won’t mind.

How to Choose the Best Preschool for Your Child: The Ultimate Guide to Finding, Getting Into, and Preparing for Nursery School

I know, adorable right?

Since I’m currently weaning Daniel (we’re down to one very quick feed before bedtime, and hopefully that will cease in the next few days), and I no longer have to worry about such things as breast pads and waking up in puddles of milk (which I unfortunately have, more than once. I even ruined a mattress), what better time to do a breast pad giveaway? That’s right, no better time! Don’t worry, these aren’t my old, don’t-need-them-anymore pads, these are brand new, haven’t actually been released in Australia yet breast pads. So if you win, you’d be one of the first people to try them out.

Don’t forget your night breast pads or you might wake up in a puddle.

To win one of 5 packs of Philips Avent Night Breast pads (to curb that annoying puddle wake up), all you have to do is comment on this post. Winners will be drawn via random.org. Must be an Australian resident to enter. 5 winners will be chosen. Winners will be sent a feedback form in the post after their trial. Winners will be drawn 27 August 2012 and will be notified via email.

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!

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Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson

leaky boobs

Time since birth: 5 weeks 1 day
Total weight loss: 10.4kgs (22.9lbs)
Weight loss this week: 500g (1.1lbs)

I woke up in a cold large puddle. It took me a bit to figure out what was going on, then it hit me. My boobs were leaking again. Not just a little bit, I was laying in a puddle. I looked at the clock, 3am. Hannah had been sleeping for 7 hours. Uh oh, is she ok, is she still breathing? I heard her little “I’m waking up” noises on the baby monitor. Phew, she’s ok. I wish she slept for 7 hours straight every night (I like getting lots of uninterrupted sleep)! I hoped I had enough milk left in my boobs, as opposed to all over the bed, to feed her (I did). Apparently, if I go to long without feeding, my boobs become self milking.

Hmmm… how do you clean up a giant puddle of milk from your mattress?? I pulled off the sheets and put salt on it. The salt drew out a lot of the milk, and then was vacuumed up. Still wet. I repeated bout 4 times, but it was still wet! I spent the night sleeping at the foot of the bed perpendicular to how one would normally sleep on a bed while trying to let the milk puddle dry. Aaron spent the night on the couch. Still wet the next day, I opened the windows and let it air all day. Finally, a dry bed. Hopefully it won’t start smelling (so far so good though).

After said incident, I started wearing a bra to bed, with breast pads inside. The bra tends to creep up during the night and sit halfway up my boob, which can block milk ducts and lead to mastitis. Surely I’m not the only one with this problem. How do other mothers protect their beds and boobs at the same time? I still don’t know the answer to that question, but I decided to wear a tank top and stick some breast pads in there. Fingers crossed I won’t have another giant leak, as I’m pretty sure it would go through the shirt and pads.

I was getting ready to go on a pram walk and lunch with my antenatal class girls, carrying Hannah around while doing so. We were in the bathroom, about to brush my teeth when she gave me the biggest, sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t the usual “I’m doing a fart” involuntary smile either, it was a genuine “mommy I love you” smile. She has been sparingly dolling out smiles ever since.

At our lunch that day, at the pub, we saw the channel 9 finance reporter and weather girl. Every single one of us had our boobs out, nursing our hungry little babies. I don’t know if the weather girl gave us a look of disgust or support, but she definitely gave us a look. Maybe she just thought it odd that we were at the pub (FYI, the meals are good, there is hardly anyone there at lunch time, and there is ample room for pram parking).

Friday, a friend from church came over to take Hannah to the park with her girls and give me a chance to catch up with the house work. It was the first time I’ve been away from Hannah. I worried about her the whole time (is she hungry, is she crying, does she need a nappy change?), but still got so much done in her absence. It’s amazing how much you can do when you have a time constraint.

As for the mammogram, I have to go see a breast specialist next week (there goes another $175). The mammogram report suggests it’s nothing to worry about, but also says to see a specialist for follow up. We are beginning to think they just refer you to anyone and everyone to get them all more money. Why do w have to go back to the doctor each time? I mean, the ultrasound report suggested further investigation, but they could have just told me that, I could have mad the appointment to get the mammogram, and so on. Instead, it’s doctor, specialist, doctor, different specialist, doctor, and so on. It seems incredibly inefficient if you ask me. If I have to go back to the doctor after my boob specialist appointment just to get the results of the appointment, I think I will scream.