One more...

When you were a kid, did you ever play those games where you try to shove your mouth completely full of food, but not suffocate? Like the "fluffy bunny" game, where you stuff as many marshmallows into your mouth as you can? Or the Hot Tamale game? (You know, I really enjoy those Hot Tamale candies, but they can be HOT when you have over a dozen of them in your mouth!!!)

Bug has started playing these games already...and he's not even a stupid teenager! But, for him, these games are more like the Goldfish game, or the Cheerios game, or the Mac 'n' Cheese game, or the hash brown breakfast casserole game. I just don't get it. He always wants more, even if he hasn't finished chewing and swallowing what is already in his mouth!

The other day, a friend and her 2 year old son were over playing with us. Bug was sharing his snacks like a good little boy. However, he was also shoving them into his own mouth. And shoving. And shoving. And shoving. Finally, he realized that he couldn't shove any more into his mouth. He also realized that he couldn't chew up what was already in his mouth. Of course, he figured out a solution. He opened his mouth and let that whole school of Goldfish plop out of his mouth. [Cue mommy frantically trying to clean up the half chewed Goldfish before Bug's little friend could eat any.]

And once Bug's little mouth was again free to chew away...he began shoving in more Goldfish.

Early Bird

Every now and then, I have "one of those weeks". The weeks when Bug wants to nurse ALL THE TIME (and I'm still using my lanolin religiously). And when Bug refuses to go to sleep until a ridiculous hour, even though I nurse him for hours on end and I know he is completely pooped. AND when Bug wakes up at the crack of dawn, even though we have been up numerous times nursing that night, after going to sleep insanely late.

I am a total grump in the morning. Actually, I'm a total grump whenever I should be sleeping and I'm not. And you have to be a brave soul to disturb my sleep. Oh yeah, I made exceptions when Bug was a baby and needed me to wake up at night with him. But, Bug is a toddler now. He shouldn't be nursing five times a night! And if he wants to nurse five times a night....he shouldn't get me out of bed before the sun is up! Especially if he is waking me up by screaming and whining and crying...and then giggling like a maniac as soon as I look at him. The giggling is probably the only thing that keeps me from pulling my hair out, because it is just too darn cute.

I'm sleeping in tomorrow.

Whirlwind

This guest post is by my friend from church, Sara. She has some of the cutest kids I've ever seen (apart from my own kiddo, of course)! And Sara is so pretty, too. When I first met her, I never would have thought that she already had three kids! Her family has a blog here. And she also has an Etsy shop called SoLilly that has some of the most adorable kids clothes I've ever seen. (You should especially check that out if you have daughters. It seriously makes me want girls!) Enjoy Sara's hectic weekend lament:

Have you ever had something happen, even something little, that just kind of stops you in your tracks and really puts you in your place? Well, that was my weekend.

I have mentioned before that I run a tight ship staying at home with 3 little ones. I always have a packed schedule and I keep up with it and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love serving. I love people. I love making new friends and catching up with old ones. I think I find every opportunity (or opportunity finds me) to do whatever I can possibly squeeze in to do good and be productive.
So it has to happen on a week when...
You are taking a meal to someone having a baby,
Going to a funeral and bringing rolls and dessert for the family's lunch afterward,
Participating in your calling at the church on Wednesday night,
Going out with the Sister Missionaries to teach,
Having a girl you visit teach over for lunch because she is leaving for college,
Going to your sister-in-law's at home party,
And then a friend from church's party the next day,
Watching a good friend's sweet little boys so she can work while her sister is in the hospital,
Buying all the school supplies because you procrastinate and wait until the last week,
Preparing a solo for Christmas (later post- no tome now)
Yearly check-ups at the pediatrician office,
Getting a scrapbook put together for your Dad's 50th birthday,
Not to mention the hours sitting in front of the sewing machine...
That you wake up Saturday morning and realize that 2 out of 3 kids have horribly broke out with POISON IVY!!

So even though we missed the primary activity that I was supposed to help out with, and spent the day at the doctors and filling prescriptions and applying gunk on Lilly's face and Nick's leg, arm, hand, face, and neck... I was actually thankful for the opportunity to just spend the day with my own kids and not running around caught up in this whirlwind I find myself in. (We were still able to make it to church so I could sub for singing time in nursery:)) A friend of mine recentlywent on an extra service hiatus for a month. Although I don't think I would be able to commit to that, an entire morning can sure have lasting effects:)
I keep thinking it will slow down, but it seems every week on the calandar is more filled in than the last. It's moments like these when you remember the quote "No success can compensate for failure in the home." Not that I think I will ever "fail" in the home, but I was grateful for the reminder that my most important service is within the walls of my own home.
I am so so grateful for my wonderful husband and kids that just sort of hold everything together while I do my calling and serve others. I am thankful for that little slap in the face realization that it might be ok to slow down and take a deep breath every now and again.
I am grateful also for wonderful friends. While attending the funeral Friday and setting up tables and chairs and food for the family's lunch afterward, a friend was watching the kids. I leave them all the time with Nick, a few times with Nick's grandma and with my mom, once with Nick's sister's Celia and Emily, and (first time for everything) now with Michelle. Andrew cried 4 times for me but got over it. It was so refreshing to know that he knows her well enough that I could have my phone on silent during the service and I didn't have to worriedly run home. (My house was somehow miraculously clean when I arrived home too.) AND- when I called another friend at church to say I wouldn't be able to do my station at the primary activity, she actually offered to take Andrew to the primary activity so I could take care of the other kids without bringing him along and exposing him to the poison ivy. Buuuut... I kept him with me.
So thank you to every one who knows exactly where I am coming from and thank you to all who do kind acts of service for me and my family.

Barefoot Baby

When I was a kid, I used to run around barefoot all the time. It was a summer ritual to come inside once it got dark and pull thorns out of my feet. I guess you could say I was a country bumpkin. But it was something I loved. I loved the freedom of it. There is a mystical power to being natural (perhaps going barefoot as a child was the beginning to my natural/crunchy/hippie style). I have sentimental childhood memories of feeling like I could run through a field and then jump into the sky and fly away, with my clothes dirt smudged and grass stained, and my feet bare.

Bug hardly ever wears shoes. I always knew I wanted to be a mom that would let her kids run around barefoot. I couldn't imagine being a mom that required her kids to wear shoes. And I must admit, I still think moms that do require that are too strict! After Bug was born, we just put little socks on his feet. Then, in the summer, he went barefoot. When winter came around again, we were back to nice, warm socks. Once Bug started walking, it was warm enough again for him to go barefoot. Every now and then, I will put some shoes on his feet. But, more often than not, the shoes get pulled off and Bug is barefoot again!

Babies actually learn to walk better when they are able to walk without shoes. It helps them learn better balance, and helps improve the muscle control in their feet. Plus, shoes are a hassle. They are a pain to get on, and they always come back off.

I often get questions and comments about why Bug doesn't wear shoes. (Usually at church, for reasons unknown.) I just smile and say, "He doesn't need them". Because it is true. Right now, he doesn't need them. Of course, once it starts to get cold again, I will have to get him some shoes. But, I think I will try to get some soft soled shoes, so he will still feel like he is almost barefoot. And, you better believe it, as soon as it warms up again, he will probably be running around barefoot!

Hormonal Art

Phew! Well, I think I have finally recovered from posting too often at the beginning of this month. And I have felt the need to post again.

I have been reading the book Birthing From Within by Pam England and Rob Horowitz. It is incredibly interesting to me, because it talks about birth through art.

I LOVE art. I have always felt a special draw towards artistic creative outlets. I have fond memories of finger painting and large bottles of tempura paint from my elementary school days. When I was a teenager, I found my dad's old acrylic and oil paints from when he was a young man with artistic desires. Surprisingly, the paint hadn't dried out, and I began experimenting with my talents in earnest. I found that my emotions came out on the cardboard, poster or canvas (really, whatever I could get my hands on) in brightly colored, abstract forms. I experimented with other techniques, but I always came back to the style that I felt did the best at capturing what I wanted. Stark lines. Flowing curves. Bold colors. Abstract. Emotion.

When I feel too full of emotion, whether positive or negative, I sit down with a pencil and paper. I either sketch out a painting (usually when things are positive) or I write poetry (my typical negative emotional outlet). I find it highly interesting that my emotions tend to require different media. And it pleases me that I haven't written a single poem about my husband, Bug or being a mother. But I HAVE done paintings for them! (I am actually working on a painting for my husband right now! Well...not now but...you know!)

The birth art book has me really excited to get pregnant again (of course, I have been excited....so when is it gonna happen already???) because I want to do more birth art! For some reason, I just don't think it would be right of me to do birth art without being pregnant. But, when I was pregnant with Bug, I actually did do birth art. I guess it is a natural thing for artistically inclined people. (And, I'm not bragging about my talent there, I'm just trying to nicely address how obsessed I am with wanting to be an artist!)

Here is the painting I did when I first found out I was pregnant with Bug, it is titled "New Life":


This is the painting that I sketched out a couple weeks before Bug was born. I finished the painting while in prodromal labor a week before Bug was actually born. It is titled "Birth":


And this is a painting that I did after Bug was born. It is titled "Nursing Feet". It came about because I would sit in my glider for hours at a time while nursing Bug, and I would amuse myself by making different shapes with my feet:



I used to live with my grandpa, while I attended a nearby university. He would make fun of me all the time for being so abstract, and artsy, and hippie-ish. (And I would make fun of him for being a concrete, geeky, chemistry-lovin' engineer...which is actually what I ended up marrying, so it's probably a good thing I had to deal with the old geezer for a couple years! By the way, I do love my grandpa!) So, I am well aware that there are people out there that don't appreciate abstract art. Heck, there are even people out there that don't appreciate art of any kind. But, that is just too bad for them! I think more women should embrace their inner artist and experiment with some hormonal art!

I can't remember if I had linked to this before or not, but I have already done a post about my "Hormonal Paintings" on my family blog. They are all the same paintings, but with some different words.

It's good for you

My grandma once told me that doctors now believe parent's shouldn't discourage their kids from eating boogers. The logic? Boogers have germs in them from the air around us that will help build up the immunity of the kid eating them. Part of me wants to say, "That makes sense!" and part of my wants to say, "Grandma, that is the craziest and nastiest idea in the world...other than eating something else that would be nastier, of course!"

It is interesting though. I've seen tons of kids dig in their noses for treasures that are apparently too tasty to pass up. In fact, I think it is something that is almost biological. Where else could so many kids learn it? Unless there are parents out there everywhere that have the habit. It reminds me of biology classes that I've had before where I learned that frogs eat their own skin after they shed it. And that mother animals will eat their placentas after they give birth. (And my little sister's dog that would eat what my dad referred to as "kitty crunchies" or...litter box treats.) It seriously intrigues me. I don't think it is wrong. But I can't help but think it isn't something I would prefer to do.

Bug has been a little bit snotty recently. I blame it on teething. (He has ten teeth now. TEN! Two of them are the first of his little molars. So grown up!) And the snot is continually running down into his mouth, where he licks it up like it is a delectable treat. I wipe and wipe and wipe, yet still it runs. And if it isn't running, his nose is full of crystallized boogers. A cave of wonders, I tell ya! And every now and then, he gets a sticky little ball of gummed up booger hovering right around the edge of his nostril.

It was one of those sticky snot balls hanging out on his nose the other day. I was feeling a little too lazy to go get a tissue to wipe it up, so I was just going to swipe it with my finger and.....uhm....stick it under the couch I guess. (Really, I'm not sure what I was planning on doing with the booger once it was on my finger. That might have just been the motivation I needed to go get a tissue.) But, as my finger swiped down, Bug stuck out his tongue. There wasn't time for me to pull my finger away. I swiped that gooey booger ball right onto Bug's tongue, and he ate it up.

Maybe this is why children eat their boogers (apart from it being good for their immune systems). Their parents must just be too lazy to grab a tissue, and they conveniently swipe those boogers into the kiddos' mouths.

Two Years and more to come!

A couple months ago, I was laying in bed with my husband and Bug. It was so comfortable. A baby snuggled up in front of me, a husband snuggled up behind me. The hubs and I were being romantic in that mushy, sappy way.

"How much do you love me?" my husband asked.

That is such a hard question to answer! I thought for a while. And then I told my eternal husband what it felt like to me to love him. How much I loved him. How I loved him. I told him that I loved him so much that I couldn't get close enough to him. Hugs aren't close enough. Snuggling in bed isn't close enough. Really, any possible physical intimacy isn't enough. I need his soul inside of me. I love him so much, I want our very cells to mesh together for all time and eternity.

After I finished trying to explain my love for him, my husband was silent for a few moments. Then, he told me, "That's what Bug is."

And it is so true. Our children are, literally, our cells meshed together. Each child is a living, breathing testament of our love. It is a little miracle that God has given us. Our mortal insight to a perfect, godly love.

"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate."
Psalm 127: 3-5

"Wherefore, it is lawful that he should have one wife, and they twain shall be one flesh, and all this that the earth might answer the end of its creation"
Doctrine and Covenants 49:16

We have had a happy two years of marriage so far. It is so short when you look at it from an eternal perspective. I hope to be happy, with my husband and our children, for a long, long time!

Happy Anniversary, Hubby!

Spit it out...NOW

With WBW come and gone, I have gotten on a roll with posting daily. (Really, I typed and scheduled all my posts for WBW, which means I haven't really blogged all week. And every time I have wanted to sit down and blog something, I remembered I already had posts ready for the week...and I just don't do more than one post a day. So, I have several pretty good stories from this past week to fill up my blogging needs for a while now!)

Here's one of those good stories.

Bug loves getting on the computer and playing with everything on the desk and in the drawers. I mean, he LOVES it. Usually, I tell him he isn't allowed, and I keep the chair pushed into the desk. Other times (usually after a massive melt down on Bug's part, and no patience on my part), I just let him up there to play and I sit on the couch with a good book. It keeps him entertained for a while. Plus, I'm married to a computer guy, so if Bug seriously screws something up, I know I have someone coming over to fix it around 6pm.

Eventually, Bug will get off the computer and run around playing with all his other toys (or all of my other belongings that he thinks are his toys). And, eventually, I get a whiff of that lovely smell that reminds me I'm a mom, and I should probably change Bug's diaper before I start the next chapter in my book.

So, that's where I was, down on the floor getting out a diaper and wipes, trying to coax Bug over to me with my best motherese. But Bug wouldn't come near me. He had that look on his face that told me he was doing something wrong....and I could tell he had something in his mouth. Hmm....sometimes he looks like that and I try to fish whatever it is out of his mouth, only to realize it is a cheerio or piece of a graham cracker. (Of course, I always wonder what he just finished doing to make him look so guilty before he put the little snack in his mouth.) However, my intuition told me that what he had in his mouth this time was something that shouldn't have been in there. I held my hand out and told him to come spit whatever it was out. He, hesitantly but obediently, walked over to me and spat out, with a great streaming strand of saliva and spit bubbles.....

Eight safety pins and a paper clip.

The end of WBW

I would like to give a shout out to La Leche League International. A wonderful group dedicated to educating moms and families about breastfeeding. I didn't go to my first LLL meeting until Bug was 14 months old. I wish that I had gone before then. The support is a phenomenal help to maintaining a breastfeeding relationship! If you are interested, please look up your local meetings and go!

Another topic I wanted to address during WBW is breastfeeding and the law. LLLI has a great resource center for learning about breastfeeding legalities. I think it is very important for breastfeeding mothers to know their rights. This is especially true when it comes to where women can breastfeed. Many women are lead to believe that they aren't allowed to breastfeed in public. They are often humiliated and forced to nurse their babies in solitude, sometimes even in public restrooms. It is regretable that our society does not accept breastfeeding, while at the same time accepting the blatant pornography that shows up on our televisions and in our grocery store check out lines! Click here for a state by state guide on breastfeeding laws. And don't be afraid to teach others!

We should do all we can to promote a healthier vision of breastfeeding throughout the whole world. It is so important. It is the best way to feed babies. It is an excellent way to comfort. It protects and creates healthy relationships. It is also a huge help in times of disaster and tragedy. World Breastfeeding Week 2009 addresses this specifically and asks us if we are ready. If we can support and help mothers to understand and love breastfeeding, we can confidently say, "We are ready!"

Breastfeeding Evolution, Part Three

Continued from Part Two:

The breastfeeding battle began with Bug’s birth. I was cursed with inverted and flat nipples. It is debatable as to whether or not this is actually a trial in breastfeeding, as the baby is breastfed not nipplefed. However, it was a trial to me as I sat in the hospital bed struggling to get my newly born son to latch on and nurse. The hospital lactation consultant was obviously not interested in helping me deal with the situation correctly. She brought me breast shells and a nipple shield. My colostrum was thick, and Bug struggled to suck it through the nipple shield. Those first few nights, I cried along with Bug. I expressed colostrum onto my finger for Bug to suck off over and over again. I felt like I was broken. Oh, how we cried.

Finally, my milk came in. I dutifully slapped on that nipple shield each feeding. I struggled to keep it in place and clean. Then I dealt with the excess milk that had collected in the shield spilling all over both of us. I neglected to wear the shells that I was given. I struggled through those first few months. I continually leaked milk. I was going through breastpads galore. I felt ashamed of myself and my body as I struggled to keep covered when I was in company that demanded modesty. I felt like I had little support from those around me. And still I cried when breastfeeding was more than I believed I could handle. I suffered through three bouts of mastitis, feverish and desperate to continue being a good mom.

Miraculously, after three months, Bug decided that he would have nothing to do with the nipple shield. I gave it up, and experienced nursing skin to skin, successfully, for the first time. I was exhilarated. However, it didn’t last long enough. Bug got teeth. And I got bitten. Several times. At one point, I had an open sore on my breast that was so tender that each time Bug latched on to nurse, I felt waves of nausea roll over me. I could hardly stand nursing. Yet, I continued.

We had trial after trial. Thrush came and went. Nursing acrobats ensued. Biting, pinching, chapping. Fevers, vomiting and stuffy noses. Night after night I would contemplate weaning. But something told me that we were not ready. Bug needed to nurse. And I needed to let him.

There was something that happened each time I would sit down to nurse my child. It was peace. I would smile, even when Bug wasn’t nursing peacefully, but playfully trying to stand on his head while latched onto my nipple. I was made for this divine role of nourishing my children. I loved looking into those nursing eyes, drunk with mother’s milk, sleepy with love. I mended Bug’s boo-boo’s with my “magic mommy milk”. I gave nourishment and comfort.

Through breastfeeding, I have realized that I am a wonderful mother. I have given my child security and the trust that I will always be there for him. I will breastfeed all my children until they are ready to wean. I am still nursing Bug at fifteen months. He isn’t much older than a year, but I am still nursing strong. I still have those nights that I struggle and cry with breastfeeding. I contemplate weaning when things get difficult. But I will give him nursies until he no longer requires that special relationship with me. Even if it takes me longer than I ever dreamed of nursing before. Because I have evolved. It is my desire that all mothers receive the support they need to bless their children with their breasts. I hope that our society will one day learn the beauty of nourishing a child as intended by God. I know that breastfeeding is a magical, spiritual experience that is one of the greatest things that we mothers can do for our children. It creates love. It is selfless love.

Books to nurse by

Ever since I got pregnant with Bug, I have found great joy in reading parenting books. I might even say that I like parenting books better than the Harry Potter series!!! Here are some of the breastfeeding books that I have read and loved, that I want to read, or that have be recommended to me:

The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding. The La Leche League must have for nursing. I must admit, I have never read this book. But it comes highly recommended. I'm sure it is great, because it is a product of LLLI.

Mothering Your Nursing Toddler by Norma Jane Bumgarner. This is a book that I DO have, and have read. It is excellent for mother nursing toddlers. These are the women who seem to not need as much support (they've made it this far, right?) but may struggle the most!

Breastfeeding Made Simple by Nancy Mohrbacher and Kathleen Kendall-tackett. This was my first breastfeeding book. I've read it front to back twice, and I've flipped to specific chapters many other times. It is great for understanding the basic idea that breastfeeding is natural.

The Breastfeeding Book by Martha and William Sears. I am a huge fan of the Sears Library. I don't have this book...yet. I keep reminding myself to only buy them one at a time. I'm sure it is full of goodness and wonderful support! They also sell The Baby Book, which has a wonderful chapter on breastfeeding!

Nursing Mother, Working Mother by Gale Pryor and Kathleen Huggins. I am not a working mother (well, I'm not getting paid for my work), but I hear this is a great book for moms who return to work after their post partum period.

The Ultimate Breastfeeding Book of Answers by Jack Newman and Teresa Pitman. Yet another book to help answer all the questions that mothers have about nursing their babies.

Find more books about breastfeeding here.

Breastfeeding Evolution, Part Two

Continued from Part One:

Before my son, Bug, was born I knew I wanted to breastfeed for one year. I had planned on weaning after Bug’s first birthday, though. I was going to live the APA standard; no solids until six months, nursing to a year. My mother did not breastfeed any of her children longer than six months. My mother-in-law, too, had less than satisfactory experiences with nursing. My only shining example was a friend from church. She had nursed one of her children for around five years. At the time I heard about that particular non-conformity, I thought she was a little strange. Loveable, and a good example, but strange! I thought to myself that I would never nurse that long!

Over time, my personal views about breastfeeding have changed significantly. Breastfeeding became important. Necessary. I was bound to that relationship. I knew I would nurse my little one for as long as his little heart desired. I was changing a lot in other ways, too. I was growing up. I was no longer an ignorant teenager that could perform exemplary babysitting. I was a woman. A mother. I needed to have ideas and make choices for my family; choices that would affect us all for the remainder of our lives. As I studied unorthodox parenting styles, I found myself drifting farther and farther away from the mainstream parenting and closer to this “attachment parenting” and “natural parenting”. I like to refer to it as “self-sufficient parenting”.

I read books and prepared myself for this new adventure of responsibility. I was going to be a mom. I was going to breastfeed. It was like the amount of studying I did resulted in the length I was planning on breastfeeding. Finally, I had settled on child led weaning. I was going to let my child decide when he was ready to wean. And hopefully, we would come to the decision together. We were going to have to work hard at this relationship, we were going to have to respect each other’s desires and strive to get along well. At times, I seriously felt that the relationship was doomed. Even from the beginning, I struggled. I fought against my stubborn self. I cried. I wondered how I would feel if I just gave up. And I stood resolutely behind myself as I told myself that I was doing this for my son. It was, and still is sometimes, a never ending battle.

Click Here for Part Three

Nursing Funnies

I love reading funny stories about breastfeeding that other moms have shared. Maybe because they are so relatable. I can feel myself blushing and laughing right along with them. My favorite place to go read these funny stories is The Lighter Side on Breastfeeding.com. Actually, I love that whole site. It has tons of great information about nursing. But, really, it has the best funny stories out there! Is there anything funnier than overactive letdown in public? Oh, flashing a group of unsuspecting people is funnier? Or breastpumps acting up? Or loud mouth toddlers embarrassing their mothers? Well, it's all there. And it's all funny!

Breastfeeding Evolution, Part One

I have evolved. No, not how Darwin would describe evolution; but my own journey towards perfecting myself. Learning and being fit to survive the trials that so many other women do not survive. Breastfeeding. Or, as it is known as in my house, nursies. How many women snap up their bras for good, in defeat? How many women believe that they “just aren’t made for this”? How many women secretly feel like they have failed as mothers, because they gave up? And what does it take to push through to a satisfactory weaning? To survive?

Words of advice are often no use when given to women who have already admitted defeat. And, honestly, I don’t know all the answers to these questions. I can only offer my example. Share my each and every struggle, so that other women know that it isn’t always easy. I have heard it all before, the excuses as to why these mothers are no longer nourishing their babes at their breasts. The mothers are not the only ones to blame, though. Some people say that it takes a village to raise a child. I don’t particularly agree with that. I believe that it takes a family to raise a child. However, I do believe that it takes a village (or a city, or a whole society) to breastfeed a child. It is a little known fact that women who do not have breastfeeding support, from their husbands, employers, or families, often end up discontinuing the breastfeeding relationship with their child. I can only share the joy that has helped me to survive. It has not always been pretty. In fact, sometimes, it has been downright horrible. Perhaps I would be taking too much liberty in saying that there were even times I felt like breastfeeding was torture. Nonetheless, I feel that there is nothing more important than understanding the miracle and feeling the fire that has pulled me through the breastfeeding mire.

Do you have to understand completely why breastfeeding is important, physically and emotionally, for both you and your child? Do you have to live in a society that commends and supports the breastfeeding relationship, and most importantly, the breastfeeding mother? I’m not sure if you have to be completely stubborn, as I have been, to keep breastfeeding until your child is ready to wean. But that is what has kept me going. I’ve never been more grateful for my personality-that desire to learn everything I can and to try my hardest to be the best at everything.

Click Here for Part Two

World Breastfeeding Week 2009

Today is the first day of World Breastfeeding Week 2009!! The theme for this year is "Breastfeeding: A Vital Emergency Response. Are You Ready?"

In honor of WBW, I will be doing breastfeeding related posts all week long. So check back every day this week for some yummy stuff! And click on over to the official site for WBW, because it is FULL of absolutely amazing information. You don't want to miss it. Please do all you can to support breastfeeding. It is a magnificent ability that mothers have been given!