I've been working real hard on my pumping game as of late...hoarding boob milk in my freezer like a rabid squirrel preparing for winter. Each time I approach the freezer with my bag of liquid gold, I feel so accomplished. Just yesterday I stared at my stash for an inappropriate 30 seconds before closing the door. I was like, "Awesome Kristen...You made that. You is smart. You is kind. You is important." Every day a competition with myself. Can I pump more ounces? More bags? Ahhhhh! Must make more! Honestly it's an obsession and someone should probably stop me...but as the looming possibility of going back to work creeps up on me, I HAVE to be prepared. What if I go back to work and I start to pump and my boobs are like, "Nope!" What if the stress of being at work, the shitty fluorescent lighting, the sadness of being away from my child, the anxiety of someone walking in on me...just everything...what if it dries up the faucets? At least then I'll have these tiny little bags as a safety net. Now that I've explained that...lets take a journey to last Friday...

I always leave two bags of milk in the fridge for Anthony's midnight feeding just in case Killian is ever feeling particularly hungry and Anthony (with his sad milk-less nipples) has no recourse. Well that Friday morning I mosey on over to the fridge and behold... both bags are gone! I'm like holy shit...did my fat baby chug 10 oz last night?...so I text Anthony, "Did Killian drink both of those bags???" What he texted back I will never forget. "No, there was no date on one of the bags and I couldn't remember when you pumped it so I EMPTIED IT DOWN THE SINK just in case! 


Now I'm no etymologist, but I'm absolutely certain that the phrase, "Don't cry over spilt milk"  is regarding breastmilk and not the $1.79 gallon you buy at Kroger. I worked hard for that milk. I ate healthy for that milk. I WARPED MY NIPPLES FOR THAT MILK! And you just threw it down the sink b/c you "couldn't remember when I pumped?" I put the phone down...tears ran down my cheeks. The pain was real. I ugly cried. Snot came out of my nose. Would I end up on 48 hours as the wife who kills her husband over breastmilk? Who would play me? Would they make a Lifetime movie about it? Decisions...

And thus a new law has been put in place in the Lavin household: Only the milk producer can ever dispose of said milk. All others who try will be executed.

I did it. I left the house sans baby...sans husband...sans it all. It was a friend of mine's birthday that I couldn't miss. So I pumped my boobs...painted my face ...stuffed nursing pads in my bra and braved the outside world. Ok it was a pizza joint. I went to a pizza joint...about 5 miles from my house...but it felt like an episode of the Amazing Race. I didn't know what to do with myself. I was drunk on freedom. I quickly found myself being that person who only talks about her baby and how tired she is...so I ordered a glass of wine, shut the hell up and did my best impression of a cool person. (I am no longer a cool person). My first glass of wine in over a year and did I mention this was a pizza joint? So that means when I asked what kind of wine they had, the answer was red and white. I didn't care. I said...sure bring me the red. It may have tasted like vinegar, but cheers for freedom. For 3 hours there would be no tummy time, no burp clothes, no nursing. I would be talking with adults about adult things. #IForgotHowToAdult

131 lbs...3 lbs from pre-pregnancy weight, but let me tell you those pounds do NOT wear the same on me. I am squishy Kristen now. So...beginning today, I start working out. I figure my boobs got the cardio on lock down, so I'm just going to introduce weights. Say a prayer for me. Say a prayer for my muscles. Say a prayer that Anthony doesn't ever throw breastmilk away again. (Yes I'm still on that...I mean honestly!)

I presume I earned  3 medals this week. 

First medal is for breast-feeding in a restaurant for the first time. The moment he woke up and started crying it felt like DEFCON 10. I couldn't get him on my nipple fast enough. I didn't want to be the person in a restaurant with a crying baby, but I guess?...living in a city like Los Angeles who are all #freethenipple, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated. It actually wasn't bad at all. I covered up, he ate, no one stared...it was blissfully uneventful. The only one I felt bad for was my son who had to eat his lunch in shame under a burka.  

My second award was for the hands-free breast-feed. I released the C grip and he remained latched! I now breastfeed with no hands. Look at me! (Pro tip: Maybe don't try this at night...in the dark...actually don't ever try it at night. I got ahead of myself at 3 in the morning...the latch wasn't great...and my nipple has been mad at me ever since)

And finally... I have mastered the feed with one boob...pump with the other (all thanks to my sister who came in town and changed my world). Listen folks...I may have been valedictorian of my high school, but I have my blonde moments...or maybe they're just mom moments now.  Here's how it went down.

Me: Ugh it would just be so much easier if I could just feed him and pump at the same time.
Sister: So why don't you?
Me: Ya I tried that, but the bottle hits my leg.
Sister: Bottle? Why don't you just pump right into a freezer bag?
Me: I wish...
Sister: Ummm you can.
Me: Come again?
Sister: Yes you just have to screw on an adapter thing and the bag hangs on it.
Me: (frantically runs to the kitchen to look through Medela storage kit I bought since said "attachments" never came with the pump my insurance sent) Behold! What is this ??
Sister: Ya see...you just screw it on and pump right into the bag... and then you won't have to wash all those bottles.

So there you go...now I pump and feed at least 2 times a day now, which has made it so much easier to build the ole' stash. Sometimes advice from people makes you want to stab them in the eye...but SOMETIMES its life changing. Now I have a lot less dishes...and pumping while you feed? I mean I dropped 5 oz in like 3 minutes. Praise Jesus. Maybe all of you knew this...but I did not. If I've helped one person out there, I've done my job.

You know how during pregnancy I never got the long luscious locks everyone goes on about?...in fact I'm certain my hair stopped growing. Well you know how after you give birth your hair is supposed to fall out? Well since giving birth my hair has grown at least 4 inches and gotten mega thick. So yay! More hair for Killian to spit up on or pull out with his Vulcan death grip!

And I say this not to gross anyone out, but just to be honest with whats happening postpartum and possibly help some random person on the internet who might be reading this blog and thinking they are alone...a couple times this week when I pooped, there was a little bit of blood. I freaked out b/c I'm 8 weeks pp so I was like...why now? I thought I was healed? My ob says it's normal and it'll stop. Probably my body's way of reminding me you gave birth 8 weeks ago...slow down.

I forgot to update the diaper bag.(He sized out of newborn diapers a while back and is damn near out of Size 1.) There I was with a poopy diaper in front of me, when I began the quick change. It seemed harder than usual...seemed tight. That's when I realized I'd put my baby... in a thong. The newborn diaper was but a mere strip of cloth, barely covering his ass crack. The yellow velcro looked like strings and with stretched Elmo's face smirking back at me...I started giggling. He looked ridiculous...and it was awesome. It was a parenting fail...but this one was funny. I thought to myself...we're headed home anyways, he can rock the Baywatch look for 10 more minutes. As I'm driving, Anthony tells me to speed up, b/c "the Mexican was hitting his stomach wrong." And like a perfectly timed symphony, my iPhone synced to the bluetooth and my Hypnobirthing Affirmations started blaring in the car. "My baby descends through tissues that are pink and healthy" "My muscles work perfectly with my baby for a natural birth" ...and Anthony says, "Every time I hear baby...I replace it with poop and it's oddly relaxing"...with each affirmation I laughed more and more. "I breath deeply so that my baby drops down" I laughed so hard I was crying. There I am...the driver of a baby in a thong and a husband listening to birthing affirmations to subdue his butthole.  Best moment ever.

While my "night on the town" was awesome, it was also really sad for me. I was going to miss the bedtime ritual: bath, coconut oil massage, sing "The Parting Glass", nurse to sleep... Anthony was going to do it and I'd be replaced with a bottle. Bedtime is my favorite part of the day for some reason. He's always so snuggly and looking cute in his sleeper...and this was the first time he'd get to sleep without me. What if he laughed for the first time while I was gone? Or worse...what if he didn't even care I was gone at all? It was hard being away from him for so long. Not to mention the extra bottles he had made him super gassy so he was up every 2 hours crying...trying to birth a fart. (Also I should note he super mega missed me, wouldn't sleep, drank two bottles and fussed the whole time. I got home and Anthony told me he was "exhausted") <------ <3

But there were 2 low points this week... 

I got the flu vaccine. I've never had a flu vaccine before, but fevers can be really bad for newborns and I didn't want to take any chances. So I got the flu vaccine...and that day...I got the fucking flu. Now granted...I only had it for about 6 hours but OH MY GOD. Quivering with the shakes, achy skin and feeling like I was going to die while I nurse/entertain/take care of a baby? Just stop. Worst 6 hours of my life. I hope this means I won't catch the flu this year b/c whatever I had a glimmer of...was painful and scary. The things I do for this kid...

I thought that mobiles were just some stupid decorative thing to make your nursery fancy. I was wrong. I decided to turn on the one in his swing...just because... and this kid went into a trance. He stared at it for like 15 minutes. He was mesmerized. He smiled at it. He loved it. He wanted to marry it. These slow moving shapes were "the baby whisperer". I googled it and apparently babies love them because they can't decide if it's alive or if they are moving it with their minds. Babies are hilarious. Turns out they are just awesome contraptions for cognitive development. 

I immediately ordered for Killian's crib: (Manhattan Toy Wimmer-Ferguson Infant Stim-Mobile)

Also...newborn digestive systems aren't mature. The first 3 months out of the womb is basically the 4th trimester. They don't understand pooping or farting. They actually fight it. They will grunt, fuss and even cry. They like...don't know how to use their buttonholes yet. And they like to nurse b/c it helps them relax...which explains why Killian always shits whilst on the boob. 

This kid. He is growing so fast he's now in his 6 month sleepers. I can't keep up. I wake up some mornings and can visually see he's grown overnight. He teeters between Chris Farley's spirit animal and the most beautiful baby in the universe. Think I'm kidding? Here are two photos of him as the sleep robber taken moments apart (this was my lazy/broke mom attempt at a halloween costume)


*he smiles with purpose (not fart smiles)

*he silent laughs...like it looks like he's laughing but no sound comes out lol 

*awake a lot more

*kicks the water at bath time

*i swear to god he has conversations with my boobs

*kneads my breasts like a cat while nursing

*grabs things (my hair, the dogs, whatever really)

As great of a father he is...I think that husbands...that men...will never have the patience a mom has for a baby. I turn myself into a three ring circus for hours to keep Killian entertained. I come up with songs... and games...and weird faces...and funny voices. I am his favorite one man show. But sometimes I have to cook dinner...or pee...or do something that requires no baby being attached to me. So I ask Anthony to take him...and here's how that goes:

Anthony plays with him for 3 minutes...gets bored and tries to convince me that Killian wants boob. I'm like no I just fed him. 

Then I see him turn on the mobile and place him in the nap time swing. I'm like Anthony, you have to keep him awake or he won't sleep tonight. If it was as easy as putting him down, I would've done it myself. Just play with him for a few minutes. (

It's like he still thinks he's the newborn we brought home from the hospital who wants to sleep all the time. I have to remind him that he's awake a lot more now.)

Then after 5 more minutes Anthony tries to convince me that Killian just "must have gas because he's fussing" and I'm like noooo he's bored. You've had him laying down on his back, bicycling one of his feet with one hand while you looked at your phone putting your FIFA team together for the past 5 minutes with the other (yes I see everything)lol

That's usually when he tells me he's had a long day of work and needs to "unwind and have a break from the baby". Not sure if you can hear my eyes rolling right now, but they are. He stepped into my world for 15 minutes and tapped out. He's a good father. He really is...but patience to play with a baby? We're working on it...

All of a sudden they've decided that when Killian spits up...they want to lick it up. So that's disturbingly gross. 

I need mom friends... women with babies who are my age...who live nearby...who want to do mom things and don't care if my boobs leak.

Also, Daylight Savings needs to shut up already...