Feeding frenzy

While I was pregnant one of the last things I worried about was feeding my baby.  Surely keeping her healthy/comfortable/clean/breathing/alive would be more difficult, right?  Wrong.  While feeding hasn’t been the most difficult thing we’ve encountered (sleeping has been FAR more troublesome, but that’s a different post entirely), it’s been something that has proved to be challenging.

First off, nursing did not go as planned.  I read everything I could about it, met with the lactation consultant, and tried, tried, and tried again.  But alas, my little baby was not interested in learning to latch properly and I endured weeks of toe-curling pain.  Add to that the fact that I discovered my body hardly produced any milk at all and it was a recipe for disaster.  So after two months the nursing/pumping ended entirely and we turned to formula which made for smooth sailing for a while.

Then came the time to introduce solid foods, and I realized I was completely clueless.  What solid foods are best to try first?  How much should she eat?  How many bottles should she still drink?  Do I need to worry about creating a “balanced meal” each time with something from fruits, veggies, protein, dairy, and grains?  Or is a jar of strained peas ok for a small meal?  And now that she eats mainly solid food, how much should she be eating a day?  She is a small thing, on the low end of the weight chart, so I worry about the fact that she really can’t afford to miss out on any calories lest she waste away before my eyes.  In short, I had no idea what I was doing.

Luckily, I read some articles on good finger foods for baby and that seemed to help for a while.  There are plenty of foods she seems to enjoy: avocado, tomatoes, buttered toast, Goldfish crackers, watermelon, green beans, corn, cheese, sweet potatoes, etc.

One thing I’ve noticed she’s not fond of though is meat.  I’ve determined that it could be because she’s a) aiming for a healthy lifestyle by limiting her red meat intake b) a future member of PETA c) purposefully aggravating her father who thought in his bachelor days that every meal should consist of steak in some form, or d) just doesn’t like it.  It’s hard to say.  Most meat we try to give her ends up on the floor, much to the delight of the waiting dog.  Being the worrier that I am, this concerns me that she isn’t getting enough protein.  How do I get this kid to eat meat?  I suppose I could feed her tofu, but…ehhh….

At this point Claire has graduated past having a few noodles or pieces of avocado to eat and would like an actual meal that will fill her up for some period of time.  See, there are so many things to do an explore that she really doesn’t have time to stop and eat, so we need to make the most of the few moments I can confine her to a high chair.  I don’t think she can subsist on a diet of Goldfish crackers for much longer, and I’d like to have something to give her that she won’t choke on and she can feed herself as she seems to enjoy that more.  An added plus would be if it didn’t make a massive mess each time either.  Mama doesn’t have time to draw a bath three times a day, ya know?

So, this will be the topic of study over the next little while.  As evidenced, I don’t quite know how to approach this problem, so I’m hoping to find some people that do.  Expect to see a  “review” of sorts soon on a book about feeding your baby.  We’ll see what sort of chaos may ensue.  Fun!

Tags: clueless, feeding

A mother’s intuition is born

I decided to document my experiences here because I’d like to have a record of my successes and failures in child rearing.  I will destroy the evidence of the failures later of course so no one can point and say with proof that I’m a terrible mother.  I realize now that the firstborn truly is the test guinea pig.  I’m the oldest child in my family, and I guess I turned out ok, for the most part, so I’m crossing my fingers my daughter does too.

Generally speaking, when it comes to raising my daughter I rely on a mix of advice from the experts and my own gut instinct.  I basically treat anything from my pediatrician’s mouth as The Gospel that must be obeyed.  He seems like a pretty down to earth guy that knows what he’s doing, and I assume he knows a whole lot more than I do.  So far he hasn’t led me astray, so I still trust him.

However, I am very wary of old wives’ tales and such.  Overall I just think its a load of crap and tune it out as much as possible.  I’ve learned that in most instances my motherly instinct will serve me much better when taking care of my child.

One instance in particular really drove this message home.  Let me preface this story by saying that generally speaking I tend to be a bit of a worrier.  Ok, maybe I should be more specific:  I worry a LOT.  More than I should.  And I knew that with a new baby I would be a bundle of nerves and anxiety, so I made the conscious decision to not be an overbearing mother and to try to relax.  Certainly our loving friends and family members would not hurt my child, so there was no need to be completely neurotic as others held and cooed over her, right?  So during the first month or so and often in new situations I was constantly repeating to myself, relax!  Everything is fine!  Most these people have their own children, and they’re ok!  A little dirt never killed anyone…just relax.  Relax!  RELAX ALREADY, WOMAN!!

Anyway, on with the story.  Claire was six weeks old and we were visiting family for the weekend in another town.  That Sunday we ended up basically doing a tour of the town so family could see our newborn child.  Why the various family members didn’t come to where we were staying rather than us visiting each home individually is beyond me, but hey, who am I to argue? 

Well, I should’ve argued.  Poor little Claire was strapped in her carseat, then taken out, then back in, then out, then in…all the while being passed around from stranger to stranger at each location.  We stayed at one house for a while to visit, as the family there had just barely had a baby a few days before and a few other people were stopping by to visit.  At that point, Claire reached her breaking point and began wailing.  Every adult woman present and about half of the men seemed to feel it was their moment to comfort the screaming child, and all manner of comforting commenced, but to no avail.  At some point in all the commotion the women determined that she had a gas bubble that was bothering her.  “Yes!  A gas bubble!” they all said, and suddenly the comforting ended and the thumping on the back began.  Maybe if I put her over my shoulder!  THUMP THUMP THUMP  No?  How about if I lay her over my arm and thump her back that way?  THUMP THUMP THUMP  Hmm, still no?  “Give her to me, I have a technique that works every time!” some complete stranger says, and my poor baby gets handed off to be pounded on the back by some lady I’ve never seen in my life, all the while still screaming.  “Should we try some infant gas medicine?” someone from the crowd cries, and before I knew it drops were being put in her mouth.

Where was I during all this you ask?  I was standing on the sidelines telling myself to relax.  I didn’t want to come off as the overprotective mother by snatching my baby away while all these well-meaning and loving people were trying to help.  But all the while, my instincts were SCREAMING at me that I knew what was wrong with my baby.  I knew it wasn’t gas, she’d never struggled with gas before.  I knew that the only reason she was screaming was because she longed for some peace and quiet.  She’d been driven around and manhandled for the last two hours, and frankyly, she was sick of it.  She wanted a cozy place to sleep without interruption.  It seemed as though every particle of my body knew this, but I was trying to fight it. 

When I could take it no more, I swooped in, grabbed my unhappy baby girl, and ran for the car while shooting a look to my husband that said you better follow me or this is the last time you’ll ever see me!.  Fortunately for him he caught on, and we zipped off in the car with little explanation to the rest of the well-intentioned family members.  We were actually supposed to make another stop before being done for the day, but this time I was wise enough to put my foot down.  My daughter needed a nap, and she was going to get it no matter what anyone said.

Sure enough, as soon as we got back to my husband’s childhood home where we were staying fo the weekend, I swaddled my baby and laid her in her pack and play.  Within seconds she was out like a light, and she slept soundly for a good two hours.  I felt validated, and proud, realizing that I did have a mother’s intuition after all.  I knew how to care for my child and what her needs were.  I just wish I had had the guts to speak up about it earlier.

Tags: family, mother's intuition

Hi, Internet!

So.  I have a blog now.  What fun!  We’ll see what comes of this whole thing.  I figured hey, everyone else is doing it, why don’t I own a piece of the Internet?  Because if everyone else is doing it, surely I must as well, right?  Right.  So here I am.  Can’t wait to start documenting the merry-go-round that is life as a clueless mother.

Tags: clueless, new in town