Today is my 37th birthday. For most of the day yesterday, I thought it was my birthday. J asked me if I wanted to do anything special. I thought about it and decided that I think I could handle a slightly longer walk than usual, and I asked for a case of cold caffeine-free diet soda. Nothing sounds better. I'm sure that it's not good to drink soda when you're nursing, but a birthday treat seems acceptable, especially after two rough nights of hour-long feeding sessions.
As embarrassing as this is to admit, I've spent the last two afternoons breastfeeding while watching the Master's golf tournament. This confounds me for several reasons, chief among them is my—former—hatred of golf. But in the late afternoon, when I'm effectively seeing double from lack of sleep, I find the greens at Augusta to be visually captivating. I also think the utterly slow pace of golf soothes my mind. Fortunately, I get two more days of it. But amidst my putting reveries, I had a revelation: I'm not only supposed to be feeding my baby's belly. I'm also supposed to be feeding his mind....Oh crap.
I've spent most of my nursing time (when the Master's isn't on) reading contemporary novels on my ipad (the best breastfeeding gift ever). It has sort of felt like studying for my Ph.D. exams because I was reading an entire novel each day and it felt totally great. But then I realized (partially from this NY Times reminder) that I was supposed to be talking to Aug instead of silently reading for myself.
So yesterday, I got out some black and white animal cards and we talked about identifying primates (yes, that's a ring-tailed lemur) and then a gift from NYC led to a conversation about penguin marching. A friend suggested reading aloud from the novels, but that would kill my speed, so I'm thinking a compromise is in order: one chapter and then five minutes of talking. That seems reasonable to me....
4 comments:
J got me a kindle when I was breastfeeding and it was a total revelation. NO TURNING PAGES!!! No holding the book open! I propped it up on the couch next to me and it was awesome. Happy birthday!
Happy birthday, Anne! I'm no expert, but I bet that the parents in that study weren't intentionally trying to talk to their children at every moment (especially when they were only days old!). They probably just had more conversation happening naturally. I remember thinking that I should try to talk more to Allison Clare when she was a baby, and I just couldn't keep it up--it was exhausting and I am an introvert. So I talked to her as came naturally, and she is a total chatterbox extrovert. Gillian has been surrounded by constant talking and is much quieter and more observant (then surprises you when she does talk). There's so much that you can pressure yourself about, but I think they really do turn out to be who they are going to be.
happy birthday!!!
a recommendation for a gift to yourself: don't worry about august's brain developing. it is so easy to obsess about these sorts of things and i am being truthful when i say that every moment does not have to be a learning opportunity. you will do TONS of talking to him without even knowing it and his brain will explode with neurons without your even having to try. just talking on the phone or over dinner with J is more than lots of kids get and it completely counts. at this point eye contact is more important to him than an intellectual conversation about whether tomatoes are fruit or veg. (although a conversation about lemurs is pretty awesome and otto could tell august a few important facts about them.)
most of the studies on words and conversation were done to look at different levels of poverty and the reasons that most people born into poverty remain there all of their lives. one of the main factors was the number of words that the kids heard in their first 3 years of life and there is a shocking difference when you look at people living in poverty, people in middle class and people in upper middle to upper classes. the difference is amazing... but 2 college professors aren't going to have a kid who is a dullard. it is about the only thing i can promise you!! he is going to be a little boy with a startling vocabulary just like otto. all you have to do is talk to him like a person and not a piece of furniture. you are in the clear!! xo,s
I'm so sad that I've just now realized I should check this space to get news of your precious baby. He's beautiful and full of so much expression. I can't believe I can say this, but I miss newborns! And, the best thing EVER for breastfeeding is a tablet. When William was born, I didn't even have a smart phone. Looking back, I don't know how I did it (which is ridiculous of course, but there it is)! One little note I would like to make is to remind yourself that you are doing everything you need to do. Babies really do just need love and basic sustenance, and you are giving August all of that and then some, I know. Breathe in these newborn days. They are slow and kind of horrible and ultimately miraculous. One day he will be like a whole other being with lanky limbs and fully formed opinions and words and feet that run, and you will have to pinch yourself that he was ever this little warm, wrenching being who needed you (and J) so. In other words, you are both equally attached right now--and he may in fact be more attached to you. But there will come a day when your attachment will remain the same (if not increase) and his will change. Not lessen, I guess, but certainly not be as visceral. And it might seem surreal that you were ever in this space that is really out of time and out of most rational thoughts. So, remember: you are doing everything you need to do. Because you are his mom. Congratulations. He's completely lovely!
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