7QT: Thrifting, non-pregnant nesting, and the epic saga of breastfeeding woes continues
August 22, 2014
Ciao, tutti. It’s time for another rousing rendition of what’s going on inside Jenny’s nursing bra.
Well, mostly. How about 7 quick takes mostly unrelated to lactation? Mostly.
1. I must have caught something from my latest re-read of the Nesting Place, because suddenly I’ve gone full on guerrilla mode on our humble abode and no piece of furniture is safe (nor is it securely in place) in this home. I hit up my favorite of favorites, my local Savers yesterday with all the bambini in tow, and out we walked with the coffee table-turned-crafting-space of my dreams, a standing floor lamp not from Target and not sporting an upside-down dog collar for a shade, and a giant ass Thomas the Train expandable play tent which has been journeying throughout my house over the past 24 hours and can be thrown satisfyingly down the basement steps at a moment’s notice. Best $2 I’ve ever spent, I think.
2. Isn’t this hideous?
3. How about now?
4. I’ll tell you what, once I get going with a can of spray paint, I tend to get a little out of control. I’d asked a friend earlier this week to meet me after bedtime at our place for a little crafting and after I spied this beauty on Pinterest I decided there were enough droplets of turquoise paint left in the can to coat our wreaths. We also followed this simple felted flower tutorial and with our hot glue guns and a couple bottles of Stella, we had ourselves a good old fashioned girl’s night in. The great news is that when we’re both 65 years old, we will already have the template for what qualifies as a “good time” down pat.
I’m in love with this wreath. I’d like to take it out to dinner.
6. Speaking of being old and fabulous and domestic, would you guys like it if I did some kind of weekly or bi-weekly thrifting post? I know it’s not the “tone” of this blog, per se, but I take so much delight in finding worthless crap and giving it a second chance at life. I also take joy in finding J Crew lovelies with the original tags still on, but that’s not quite the same thing. So what do you think? Should I branch out from bodily fluids, Catholic apologetics and s-e-x and give you more frequent glimpses into the deep, dark world of my Goodwill addiction?
5. But let’s talk about what you really came here to read about today: Nipplegate 2014. Let’s start with the good news. The good news is that I have the very best hookup with the sweetest IBCLC on the planet, and after a 911 call to her voicemail earlier this week, she counseled me over the phone (in Target, obviously. My deepest condolences, fellow shoppers in the lamps and home goods department) and she was encouraging + compassionate and just the right touch of “well, 8 months is a fantastic amount of time to nurse, and if you want to to ahead and try the one-sided route, that’s a great idea, and if not, that’s great too.”
(Basically she’s the perfect combination of confidence, professionalism and compassion. If you live in Denver or the surrounding area and ever find yourself in need of such services, I’m happy to point you her way.)
This is an unrelated picture of a reindeer. Never will I ever invite the neighbors to the lame-ass birthdays we throw for our own toddlers.
The bad news is that while I was letting things heal up on the injured side, the uninjured workhouse, old right n’ reliable, got an overuse injury or something and now I’m having a doubly uncomfortable time replete with all manner of unmentionable horrors (Dave already is aghast I’ve said so much on the blog. But you all are so helpful! How can I hold back?). The bottom line is that as of last night, I’d gone 24 hours without nursing or pumping on one side, and my supply is tanking. I’d all but decided we were officially broken up in the breastfeeding department but then around 10:30 pm I burst into her room in a fit of hormonal angst and dream fed her. So, I don’t really know where that leaves us. She’s probably taking 90% of her liquids by bottle now, but I’m resolved to keep nursing her first thing in the morning and last thing at night, if she wants and if my supply can rise to the challenge. Ugh, motherhood is just full of feeeeeeeeeelings and stuff.
Evie be like “I don’t give a bleep just feed me. Anything.”
7. Whichever one of you brilliant people recommended Peg + Cat is my very favorite, because my kids can count and add and subtract…and I’ve done nothing. Now this is my idea of homeschooling.