There were three in the bed and the little one said...

TWO-TWO MILKS!!!!!

Likely bellowed from bed (his mood pre-milk is much like mine pre-coffee) or at the start of a long car ride once everyone is strapped in, most people who have met N soon learn his term for nursing. Some babies adopt adorable terms like "Mo-mo", "Nummies" or even the simple, Hooters-approved, "Booooobies!" N is more practical. "There are two of them, they make milk. It's not rocket science," I imagine him explaining, exasperated. 

I'm vaguely aware that a sizeable portion of the U.S. has some sort of opinion about nursing a nearly two year old. Some passionately support the health and psychological benefits for mother and child; others see it as socially unacceptable to provide nourishment to a child who's old enough to ask to be fed from a body part that society would rather resexualize. 

For me, it's simply a continuation of the mixture of feelings, challenges and benefits of feeding a newborn. It's often a pain in the boob. The physical discomfort has graduated from the cracked, raw nipples of learning to latch, to the exquisite pain of having soft, delicate flesh treated like the extendable rubber of a taught elastic band. The clawing scratches of infant fingernails made way for heel-to-the-boob kicks when suddenly, "toesies want two-two milks!" And now I am almost nostalgic for the awkward fumbling of public latch-ons with a squalling babe, when strangers and friends alike are often treated to N confidently locating and removing all coverings to his beloved Two-Two Milks at a moment's notice. 

I hear there are a few mothers out there who are able to marry modesty and breastfeeding for longer than a few months. That's wonderful. After 18 hrs of labor, birth, bleeding nipples and a screaming, hungry T, Modesty was simply reprioritized to somewhere between color-coordinating my linen closet and gnawing off my big toe.

But for a mama who spends 40-50+ hrs a week away from her two little ones, telling stories to a nursing N--bown eyes wide and attentive--when I get home from work; stroking his hair while he nurses to sleep at night; and when he wakes up, snuggling his body in a ball that I can tuck against my belly, are three of my favorite times of the day. Sure, he could get all his daily nutrition from food alone; but maybe not with breastmilk's antibodies and extra je-ne-sais-quoi. Sure, we would still cuddle if he weaned. But my arms would compete more often with the thrill of bed jumping, the curiosity of whatever his sister is up to, and the indefatigable draw of glowing screens. 

So I'll put up with my not-so-tiny bed-hog and the midnight roundhouse kicks to the face (see footnote on bed-sharing); the umpteenth assertion that I do NOT have Go-Go-Gadget nipples; and the occasional flash of boob to the unsuspecting public. We'll save pennies and patience for the excessive and expensive travel plans to keep him, and a familiar caregiver, with me on work trips. And if anyone is looking with eyes that judge me or him for being two and "still" nursing, let them look. I'm too busy feeding my son and trying to keep my clothes and sensitive parts in tact as I do so, to notice or care. 

Because he is my last baby, and once this particular connection is gone, it doesn't come back. Because I believe the clearest path to independence is the one children choose to pursue themselves. Because right now I can't give him everything, but this is a gift--of nutrition and connection--that I can. 

Photo on exhibit in the Nursing is Normal project, VT, by Studio Ten13

*We started co-sleeping in large part because as sleep-deprived new parents, the idea of getting up 5x a night to nurse a baby for 20-60 min, then finagle her into a crib, (start again if she wakes!) and then repeat it all 30 min later seemed ludicrous. We also had a newborn that refused to sleep for longer than 10 min unless she was nestled against another warm body. So out of desperation, and then choice, we co-sleep... but that story is for another post!

Jen's Top 5 Weightloss Tips

Over the last few months I started hearing a disconcerting refrain. Naturally, it started with my mom.

"Jen, you're too skinny!"

Next it was coworkers.

"Jen, you're not looking well. Have you lost weight?"

"Jen, you're looking a little gaunt. Are you eating?" At which my office mate who witnesses my steady 8 hrs of food inhalation would snort. 

For the record, the scale hadn't made a significant downward plunge, and the comments were getting annoying.

So, I thought to put my health in a bit of comic relief with Jen's Top 5 Weightloss Tips!

First though, you need the back story. Growing up I probably would have ransomed my favorite candybar for the future promise of hearing anyone describe me as skinny, let alone "too skinny." Teased by a gang of classmates, I spent grades 1 - 7 identifying as the chubby girl, with all the shame and self-loathing that society helpfully facilitates even a 5 - 12 yr old feeling. Now "fat" is a descriptor that my self-confident, logical, scale-reading 34 year old brain can recognize is no longer true, but it remains an aspect of my identity which I don't think I will ever fully lose. That's not to say I have a poor body image any more (thank you sports and feminist theory). But those formative years have stuck with me, luckily for the most part, in ways I feel has made me a stronger, more compassionate human being, and one who can find beauty and strength in more than one shape and size.

Sooo, for those of you who wanna "lose weight" like me:

1) Max out on workplace stress!
May I suggest a toxic working environment with an incredibly unsupportive, out-of-touch boss; losing funding for your program; and putting a promised promotion on hold for 1.5yrs may help.

2) Buy a workout ball.
Not to workout on! Just to sit on at work and nervously bounce all day. *Warning: may severely annoy office mates*  When not bouncing, I seemed to miss the potential for an "excellent core workout" by modifying the correct upright posture to a limp 15-degree slouch on my desk.

3) Eat. LOTS.
I don't really know why this one works for me. I just know I do a lot of it. Ask anyone who lives in the same house or works in the same office with me for verification. I. Eat. Constantly. I think it has something to do with #5.

4) Avoid Sleep Like the Plague. If you do find yourself falling asleep, be sure to wake up frequently.
I can recommend having small children as a great aid to #4. Also, #1 helps a lot.

5) Breastfeed. For like 4-5 years.
Of course this would likely involve having kids (which would help with #4). (N.B. just in case anyone reading this doesn't know me, I'll spell out that I am in no way shape or form advocating for anyone to get pregnant, undertake the physical and emotional repercussions of a 9-10 month pregnancy, birth, losing the 20 - 40 lbs you gained during pregnancy, and bring a new human being into this world so that you can breastfeed and lose weight. Sheesh, that'd be almost as dumb as having a baby to try to keep a relationship together)

*Brilliant* as these 5 tips are, I'm afraid I am no longer the weight-loss guru! At the end of October I spent two weeks in Vermont. Relaxing. Sleeping. Thousands of miles away from a toxic office (that boss, at the end of my trip, graciously resigned). Not bouncing nervously on my ball. Instead, snuggling my new baby nieceeating the state's signature cheese drowned in maple syrup. And even though the scale never budged, the comments when I returned were markedly different.

"Wow Jen, you look so much healthier!"

"Jen, you look great. Did you put on weight?"

No my friends, I didn't. I'm just happier :)