Browsing Tag

feeding

kids inc

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe

August 7, 2009

Guess who..mommy is going to pick?

One of the downsides to having 2 kids so close together is that my boy is forced to grow up a lot faster than he would otherwise have to. At 14 months, he’s still very much a baby, but with the arrival of an even smaller baby, the contrast makes him seem like a giant of a child. I often find myself thinking that he’s a big boy, then I stop myself short and remember that he’s just barely made it into the stage of toddlerhood.

To be honest, if things were a little different and I didn’t have Kirsten around, I’d still be babying him till he was 12. But with 2 kids, he’s just gotta learn to deal. We all do.

Only thing is, while he’s been amazing these past weeks in making room for his little sister and having to play by himself and coming to terms with the fact that Mommy’s not all his anymore, there are days where I can tell he’s struggling to adjust. And it shows up in different ways. One day he’s clingy and needy and stuck to my hip and another day he’s refusing to let me carry him. Also, after months of sleeping on his own without fussing, he screams bloody murder every time I try to put him to bed. I need to hold him and snuggle for a good hour before he’ll be contented enough to drift off to sleep.

That’s the dilemma though. On any given day, both kids will be demanding for Mommy AT THE SAME TIME and God forbid they have to wait a fraction of a second for me to magically appear. Much as that is a boost to my ego (I’m hot property), it breaks my heart to have to decide who’s turn it is to get me first. At first I was all like “of course I have to attend to the smaller one first since she’s a baby and all”, then I realize that they are both still babies and it’s not really fair for Tru to have to wait all the time. In fact, Kirsten is probably too small for a little bit of crying to do any permanent damage, but Tru’s at an age where he might actually remember that Mommy wasn’t there for him because she was too busy taking care of his baby sister.

So I’ve kinda developed a system to assuage the guilt. Kirsten gets first dibs if she’s hungry (which happens like MOST OF THE TIME and you don’t want to mess with her when she’s hungry) and all other times, I’ll attend to Tru first. When I’m particularly insane ambitious, I’ll try to tackle both at the same time. Although there’s that one time where I hid under the kitchen sink until they both stopped crying and fell back asleep.

I’m totally kidding. About the kids falling back asleep part. I was hiding under the sink but the screaming went on for hours. I think I must have been the one to fall asleep.

by Daphne

pregnancy

Help, my boobs are broken

July 3, 2009

breastfeeding

Believe it or not, I’m actually envious of women with squirty breasts. Some women seem to be able to produce enough milk to feed a small province in China and still have enough to spare. I once went to a friend’s place and her freezer was overflowing with bottles of breast milk. I, on the other hand, have barely enough to feed a tiny kitten.

Partly thanks to the c-section the first time around, I literally had no milk for the first 5-6 days. Not even a drop. I was hell bent on breastfeeding Tru in the hospital, so I voluntarily endured some brutal breast-manhandling by the lactation consultant (who didn’t seem to notice that my breasts were actually attached to nerves and kneaded and pinched my areola like she was rolling dough). And even then, still nothing. Zilch. Every time I latched Tru on to feed, he’d suckle for a few minutes, then stop abruptly and scream for dear life.

The nurse was trying to console me by saying that newborns don’t really need much milk for the first few days, but looking at my helpless little bundle screaming for food, it was too much for me to bear. By the second day, I caved and fed him formula milk as a supplement. From then on, he figured out it was much easier drinking from a bottle and refused to latch directly to drink. The only option was for me to express the milk and feed from the bottle.

So for the first month, my daily schedule consisted of feeding (30 minutes), burping (15 minutes), rocking him to sleep (45 minutes) expressing milk (60 minutes). I’d emerge an hour later with a measly 20 ml of milk (that’s from both breasts, mind you). By the time I was done expressing, it was time to start the whole cycle all over again.

I was so immensely jealous of moms that could fill up a 200 ml bottle in 30 minutes. I even heard that some women have so much milk that when the baby stops drinking, milk would be squirting out in all directions (WAY COOL!)

In fact, I was convinced that my boobs were broken and it’s a miracle I even lasted a whole month. I was too bummed by the fact that my game plan for losing weight had vanished into thin air (the hopes, not the fats).

Very soon, I’ll have another shot at breastfeeding and I AM GOING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. To aid the process, I’ve gotten all the breastfeeding devices I could think of, like a co-sleeper that attaches to my bed so I’ve got easy access to her during all hours of the night, a breastfeeding pillow for proper positioning and support, a state of the art breast pump to provide the necessary stimulation and a ton of herbs that’s supposed to increase the milk supply.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that somehow, my breasts will miraculously start squirting milk in the next 2 weeks. I’d take leaky breasts over spoilt ones any day.

by Daphne

kids inc

The Low-Down on Chow-Down

March 10, 2009

The way I see it, when it comes to eating, there are three kinds of kids. The chickens, the hamsters and the sharks (pardon the analogy, it’s an occupational hazard).

The chickens are the colossally picky eaters. They’re not particularly fond of food and eating is merely for sustenance. They’re usually fine with french fries and ice-cream, but the moment you bring on the broccoli and peas, they’ll grab their heads and retch.

But you gotta give it to them, they’ve got an arsenal of vomit faces to convey their immense displeasure, ranging from “looking at this pile of goo makes my head throb” to “I’d rather die than swallow that”.
bleahh

Then there are the hamsters. They keep the food in their mouths like they’re storing up for winter and refuse to swallow. It would seem like they are eating a lot, since each mealtime takes an average of 3 hours. By the time they’re done with breakfast, it’s about time for lunch. And so on.

In fact, every day is like a never-ending meal punctuated with food of different temperatures.
built-in food pouches

Finally, there are the sharks. They’re the kind that grabs life by the horns and eats right through them. They eat anything and everything. It’s like feeding a bottomless pit, and they seem to be hungry all the time. When the food is too slow or too little, they bang their little hands and scream bloody murder.

“Give me food!” is their battle-cry, and when it doesn’t come, they know how to improvise.

Tru, he’s definitely a shark, and a pretty enterprising one at that. His favorite move is what I like to call the I’m-starving-please-feed-me-look, complete with doleful eyes and half-pout (surprisingly effective). When that fails, he progresses to the hand-banging and screaming (also surprisingly effective).

Recently, he’s acquired a new tactic. The sneak attack. When he know it’s something he can’t eat, (like cookies or chocolate) he’ll act all innocent and sneak up on you when you’re least expecting it. Then with one swift bite, he’ll grab the food right out from your hands and smirk like he’s real pleased with himself.

“Take that, mama!”

Then I look at the chickens and hamsters and I’m actually glad that I’ve got a shark.

by Daphne