Wardrobe Wednesday

Last WW of the year for me! Welly weather is still a bit pukey - bring on the days of summer frocks and no jacket!

Floral top | Mothercare

Cardy | Max

High waisted belt | Glassons

Polka dot zipper skirt | Cotton On

So there you have it. My last threads for 2010 - bring on 2011!

You know you're a Mum when....

you know The Very Hungry Caterpillar word for word.

Beanwear - uber cool threads for uber cool kids

Sometimes I get a little sick of the enormous price tags attached to the more unique and funky clothes out there for kiddies. I'm all for supporting NZ stores (and I do when I can) but sometimes, when you're on one income, it can get a bit pricey!

That's where Beanwear comes in. George (a friend of a friend who was a tad fed up with the big prices) traveled to India recently and got a whole bunch of super cute threads made for babies and toddlers - mainly girls but there's quite a few things that could double as unisex. 

There's everything from gorgeous singlets to harem pants (think MC Hammer with an eastern feel) and all pieces are cotton/lycra in the most stunning earth colours. The best bit? They start from only $5.50!

So whether you're looking for something a little different, durable and super comfy for your wee one or as a gift, get Beanwearing now! 

Find Beanwear on Trade Me here.

Wardrobe Wednesday

So this week's WW is a bit exciting for me. Why? The uber talented Clare over at Green Valley Crafts is taking a break from her WW creation for a while and has bestowed upon me the honour of grabbing the reins over at love miss bonnie. Find the step-by-step of Clare's brainchild here and get wardrobing - awesomeness!

Check out my WW for this week below (as you can see by my threads, the weather in Wellington is rubbish AGAIN)....

Baggy tee | Glassons

Floral cardy | Cotton On

Grey blazer | Vintage

Scarf | Gift from Thailand

Skinny jeans | Lee

Flats | Country Road

And accessorizing with my fave earrings | Indeja

So there you have it - I promise better pics next week! There was no one around to take a full length photo but you get the gist, right? Make sure you pop on over to love miss bonnie and post a link to your WW in the comments.

Little Red gets a bit cute

I just had to post this photo that I took of Redford this morning - it just melts my heart!

The boy loves his toys!

You shall not woo me, Chrisco man

I searched for a picture of this man, but perhaps it's a better idea that I don't put one up and instead resort to the above because even though it's corny as heck it beats this guy.

Question: Do you have any idea who I'm talking about? If not, be glad. If you do, you'll understand that I'm talking about the "good looking" British dude that's taken over the Chrisco ads in the hopes of (I'm assuming) appealing to SAHM's appreciation of "good looking" British dudes thus forking out their husband's hard earned cash for a Chrisco hamper. Sexist, much?

Now I have to admit I am incredibly partial to a man with a smooth, sexy English accent. I am not, however, impressed by a man who was obviously a used car salesman in his last life that talks like David Beckham and looks like a real estate agent/strip club owner. Nor am I wooed in the slightest by him calling me a "gorgeous kiwi Mum". And it seems I'm not the only woman to feel this way considering the line has now changed to "smart and gorgeous kiwi Mum". Oh I feel so much better now! I'm gorgeous and smart. Yippee! I'm awesome and all yours, Chrisco man.

Is there anything that Chrisco doesn't do? Well, it certainly doesn't make me want to drop my knickers and most definitely not my moolah in this guy's pocket just for some measly biscuits. You're gonna have to work harder than that.

Yours sincerely,
(Much more than just a) smart and gorgeous kiwi Mum.

You know you're a Mum when....

you're really, really good at catching vomit.

Love the new blog!

I got creative (and less baby minded) and created another blog (but that doesn't mean I'll be skimping on Baby Bump).

Check out love miss bonnie where I find a new love of the day every 24 hours and in the process, learn to appreciate the beauty in the little things.

Follow the love! Share the love! Tell me what you love!

Miss Bonnie x  

Get the mini toothbrush ready!

Great Zeus' beard! Little Red's gone and grown himself a tooth! It's teeny tiny but it's there. Wee rosy cheeks, lots of drool and manic chewing.

Thank you to Fridge Elephant (see above) for making the poppet's gums a little less sore x

The food conosseur - solids take five million and one

Oi vey! More solids junk, you say! Well, you know I like to keep y'all updated and this time I have lovely things to report!

As of last Friday we started Little Red on three meals a day and that, along with his super baby sleeping (I'm guessing), has helped immensely with getting his head around this whole food thing. He now lets me shove a spoon in his gob - to which he actually opens his mouth for - and even swallows it down. He's been doing so well in fact, he quite often finishes the whole bowl!

The firm fave at the moment is pear, potato and baby rice. Strange combo but oddly delicious. This morning we had pear and baby muesli and he scoffed it down.

Spoonie is still a must but anything to get the food down, right?

I had a play with the idea of BLW over spoon feeding but I can now confidently claim that Little Red's foodies are a mixture of both and it works! His main meals are spoonie meals but I generally give him a slice of apple, carrot, pear or avocado to chew on during the day. Plus, he's quite partial to hand feeding himself straight from the bowl, i.e. he shoves his hand in the puree - lumpy puree, might I add - and then into (onto?) his face. I'd be a tad surprised if any was actually going in, but that's not the point, is it?

So there you have it. All rainbows and cupcakes over this way. Stay tuned for more solids updates (hopefully all good ones)....

Let's all hold hands and cry it out

Not in a schmultzy group therapy kind of way but a "my baby doesn't know how to settle himself to sleep so I'm going to let him cry it out" kind of way. And yes, there were tears. Plenty of them. From Little Red. But mostly from me ( no, not really but I don't want to sound like an ice queen - I simply managed to dissociate myself from the sound).

Baby Daddy Nick and I were pretty over the fact that a) the wee peanut's cot was literally attached to our bed and b) we were still getting up (rolling over?) every 1-2 hours to either feed him or put the dummy back in. No rest for the wicked and all that but come on!! I was turning less into a normal, functioning human being and more into a mean devil zombie with each passing day. So! I figured it was time for some evasive action. I sat down with the lappy and did some serious swotting on sleep. Why I didn't think to do this sooner is beyond me but better late than never, right?

I made the executive decision to go with the "verbal reassurance" technique - pretty much the beginner's guide to "cry it out"/Ferber method - and go with it we did! I took the reins and insisted Nick sleep in the spare room and cook dinner so I could go full bore in tackling Little Red's night-time shenanigans (why is it when babies are concerned we women always seem to be made of steel and nails whereas men turn to custard and cuddles as soon as a tear is shed? I suppose us ladies are the alpha, after all). 

When I first had Redford I swore I would never result to this technique as I thought it was beyond cruel to let your poor defenseless bundle cry themselves to sleep. But now, when I weigh up my sanity with his tears for a night or two, my sanity wins out big time. So I thought I'd document the whole thing for y'all....

First though, a bit of background:

Little Red has always been a totally crap day sleeper but from 5 weeks started sleeping 7-8 hours a night. He even settled himself! Admittedly, he spent a lot of time in bed with us but who cares? I'd rather have solid sleep than the bed to myself. Then, wham! We hit five months and he started waking at 3am. Then he started to wake at 12am and 3am. Then it turned into bed at 9pm, dummy run at 10pm, comfort feed at 12am, dummy run at 1am, real feed at 2am, comfort feed at 4am, real feed at 5.30am and so on and so forth and you get the picture. He'd gone from self-sufficient wee man to clingy comfort feeder in the space of a week. I was not a happy chappy and neither was he. So in comes Ferber, we go sans dummy (cold turkey, I tell ya, it's the only way to go) and this is how it went....

NIGHT ONE:   Little Red has his bedtime bottle at 7pm and after 5 minutes of sitting and burping we sing our bedtime song (Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen but sung in the style of Jeff Buckley) on the way to the bedroom. We turn on the white noise (a rather serene mountain lake but I reckon it's actually a stream) and bubs goes down with Denver, Patrick and Sophie around 7.30pm.

This is Denver the dinosaur. He appears to have eaten a disco ball - his

tummy is reminiscent of Studio 54 come night-time.

This is Patrick. He's the firm favourite. The BFF, even. Fire and brimstone

shall rain down should you forget Patrick. 

 This is Sophie. She's French and rather exotic and has a good ol' squeak

when chewed on.Yay for squeaky things.

Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes. So Little Red is in the cot! Awake! I left the room and the crying began. Five minutes and I went in to verbally reassure him. Again ten minutes later and then fifteen minutes. Et voila! About half an hour after going down he was fast asleep and we didn't hear a peep (a very rare happening) until 2.10am. I was a little unsure what to do so figured I'd let him cry - I thought perhaps he'd go back to sleep - but after 45 minutes it was clear that he most definitely wasn't so I got up, fed him (he guzzled!) then put him back to bed awake. He then slept through to 5.30am so I bought him into bed with me and we snoozed until 9am. Bliss!

NIGHT TWO:   It was easier on the second night as we knew what to expect. The routine went as per usual (although we were still getting into the swing of a set time for bed) and Little Red was in his cot by 8pm. This time there was only 15 minutes of crying! He woke at 1.50am so I fed him and then he went back down until 5.20am. I fed him again and then tried to put him back in the cot but he wasn't having a bucket of it so up we got - a slight shock to the system being up that early, but hey, I ain't complaining!

NIGHT THREE:   We've now moved down to a 10 minute settle time, yay for progress! Down at 7.40pm with a wake time of 12am. I have to admit I felt a bit nervous with the midnight wake, it seemed he was back to his old tricks so I thought I'd wait a bit and see what happened and you know what? He cried for 10 minutes and then sozzled himself back to sleep not to wake until 5.30am - superb!

NIGHT FOUR:   Naughty Mummy forgot about Little Red's arvo nap so he was absolutely knackered by 7pm. He gulped down his bottle, was in bed by 7.15pm and asleep in less than a minute. He woke at 2.50am for a feed and then slept through til 6.45am. I'm really liking where this is headed....

So it's Night Seven tonight and goodness me have we come a long way from those disturbed nights. We've been doing a breast feed at 4.30pm, dinner at 5pm and then Redford's ready for his bottle by 7pm. He's still crying when we put him down but it's usually only for 5 or so minutes. Midnight feeds usually happen between 2am and 3am (after which I make sure he's still awake when I put him back down) and he's now sleeping til 6.30/7am.

It's utterly amazing how well this has worked. I was terrified upon starting that it just wouldn't stick, that I'd end up with a baby that never slept and a body and brain that was slowly idling down a path of insanity. All three of us are happier and healthier - Nick is refreshed when he leaves for work as he's not suffering broken sleep - even if he does manage to snooze on through most of it, I'm getting two solid blocks of dream time thus having so much energy during the day I resemble the Energizer bunny and Little Red is chilled out and just.... awesome! 

I'm pretty chuffed. We're all pretty chuffed. Long live happy, sleeping family times! 

PS. This technique isn't for every baby, but if you think you and your little tot can handle it - I highly recommend it. A few nights of yucky crying is well worth the results!

Wardrobe Wednesday

Today we're off to the airport to meet my sister and my newest nephew (he's just 2 months old and this is our first meet and greet!) - they've flown the seas from the UK - kudos to big sis for traveling all that way with a wee one, eek! As you can see by my get up, it's FREEZING in Wellington. Hmpf.

Beret | Portmans

Baggy singlet | Moochi

Boyfriend cardy | Asos

Blazer | Minkpink

Scarf | Vintage (my Ma's from the 80s!)

Jeans | Workshop

Shoes | I Heart Billy

And accessories (blurry pic, I know, in desperate need of a better camera!):

Hand-made rose gold cameo ring from the 40s | Trade Me (on a chain I got from Diva)
Hand-knit heart brooch | gift from my sister 

Little Red got in on the Wardrobe Wednesday vibe today too....

Undershirt | Seed Baby

Tee | Country Road

Jeggings | Tiny Little Wonders

Sneaks | Bobux

And accessorizing with.... Patrick

Looks a bit like a stunned mullet really, doesn't he?

Right! That's all folks! Yippee and keep snug!

You know you're a Mum when....

you have fed your baby, clothed your baby, had a shower, dried your hair, put a load of washing on, put the dishwasher on, cleaned the kitchen, wiped down the dining table, tidied the spare room, tidied the lounge, tidied baby's bedroom, made your bed, had two cups of tea, gotten the jolly jumper out, put the jolly jumper away, changed two nappies, waved hubby off to work, watered the basil plant, caught up on any major news, checked your emails and changed baby (again) out of puke covered clothes.

All by 7.30am.

The food conosseur - solids take.... 3?

Admittedly, I'm beginning to lose count! An update on my last rant.... the solids are ever so slowly going down a little easier with each meal. The sleeping? Yeesh, don't even get me started.

But! I want to keep this post upbeat and positive so I'll stick to the foodies side of things. Now we haven't done a 180 and Little Red hasn't turned into a ravenous devourer of all things solid but we're getting there. I'm sticking to Farex baby rice (pear and apple) because, well, it pretty much tastes of mushy breast milk to which I add a little apple and (if I dare!) some mashed banana. We also gave Only Organics fruit muesli another try and this time - hooray! - no sore tummy's which is a hand clap moment as the wee bunny rather likes it. I also throw some baby muesli with apple and avocado in there sometimes to spice things up a little. 

This is all good and well as long as Little Red has a) his spoon, b) his sippy cup (from which he has no interest in drinking but does thoroughly enjoy throwing it on the floor) or c) a bowl to hold - preferably the one with the food in it. As long as he's happily distracted by either of these three things I can sneak the yums in and he even opens his mouth for the spoon, yippee!  

He's now steadily on the lunch and dinner bandwagon so, fingers crossed, it's all smooth sailing from here and at some point soon Sir Redford will be eating something more than anything with apple in it....

Wardrobe Wednesday!!

So I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon now that I've finally figured out what Wardrobe Wednesday is! We Mums all like some good threads right? And we most definitely deserve to look awesome and feel great about ourselves. 

My first one's a bit of a cheat.... it's not a Wednesday (it is, in fact, a Saturday) outfit and it's definitely not what I'd wear out on your average day-to-day basis. It was the Weta Christmas party on Saturday night so Baby Daddy Nick and I dolled up and shimmied on down to the Overseas Terminal for a night of.... dancing? Mayhem? Meh, you had me at free booze!!

Top | Good ol' House of G!

Skirt | LoveLove from Spacesuit

Belt | 70s vintage from my Ma's collection

Shoes | Overland

As you can see, I'm not overly enthusiastic about having my picture taken (and now that I look at it, I'm not so keen on those bingo wings that seem to be popping out the side....)

Anywho, first Wardrobe Wednesday down, many more to go! 

Sweet treats - Oatmeal cookies

I hosted coffee group at our pad a couple of weeks ago and one of the treats brought was these incredibly addictive cookies. I grabbed the recipe off the mama that made them and whipped up a batch over the weekend. Needless to say, they're almost gone! So easy to make, so yummy and so deserving of being shared with you all....

 

Oatmeal Cookies (makes about 20 - depending on how many you taste test....)

85gm unsalted butter

1/2 cup raw sugar

1 egg

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/3 cup plain flour

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup chopped nuts (I used almonds but walnuts or peanuts would be delish too)

1 & 1/2 cups rolled oats

1/2 cup dried fruit (I used raisins but next time I'm trying apricots & dark chocolate!)

Preheat oven to 180C. Cream butter and sugar. Add egg and vanilla, mix well.

Sift flour, soda and salt together. Stir into creamed mixture.

Add everything else and mix well.  

Using you hands make walnut sized balls of dough and place them on a lined or greased cookie tray. The dough balls can be varied in size for small cookies or great big ones.

Press down balls till they about 1-1.5 cm thick. Bake in oven for about 12-15 mins or until edges of cookies are light golden brown.  Let them cool and enjoy!

Sunshine on a dark day....

The weather here in Wellington is beautiful today, but (and I'm sure I'm speaking for thousands when I say this) the sun doesn't seem as bright nor does the gathering warmth of summer feel as comforting. And how could it after such an enormous tragedy?

Words can do no justice in a time like this but my heart and thoughts go out to the 29 miners that were lost in the Pike River Mine disaster yesterday and their families, friends and community. 

What a dark day for little ol' New Zealand.

Miss Bonnie x

Does the 6 month miracle really exist?

I'm not sure it does in our household. For those of you scratching your noggins wondering what the devil I'm on about, I'm talking about that "magical" moment when your wee one turns 6 months and all of a sudden things fall into place. He's sleeping through the night, feeding like clockwork, hoeing down on his solids and has two naps a day at exactly the same time for exactly 2 hours. Know what I'm getting at? Perhaps I've been reading the wrong baby books or perhaps I just expect too much but for the past few weeks, I feel as if I've been living with a newborn again.

Now our little guy is like any other 6 month old. He loves the simple things in life, like his jolly jumper....

 

and his spoon....

the sand between his toes....

and drinking out of cups that aren't his.

But just because he likes simple things doesn't mean he's a simple baby. Not in the slightest. He's never been a great day sleeper but for a while there he was easy and adaptable - he slept in his cot (in his own room, even!) for a good 7 hours a night, he chowed down on his solids and he was just, well, easy. But now, yeesh! This kid is giving me a run for my money. Or should I say a flat out sprint and here I am panting away, barely keeping up a jog. 

Now I'm not saying my Little Red is the devil's spawn - he's pretty freaking awesome most of the time - but give a Mum a break. For the past four weeks I'm pretty sure I've averaged 5 hours of sleep a night (and that's not consecutive) except for two nights last week when he tricked me into thinking he was back to his superb slumbering ways and I got five in a row - magic! So the night sleeping has shot out the door and following hot in it's footsteps is the daytime sleeping. I'm getting three twenty-thirty minute naps out of him a day. A day. There's a couple of Mums in my coffee group that have bubs that sleep four-ish hours during the day and then eleven straight hours at night! Oh how do I envy thee? Let me count the ways....

I've heard about the whole sleep promotes sleep idea and I definitely agree with it (a fellow Mum sent me a sleep quiz which I plan to thoroughly devour) - those two nights he slept straight through, he'd hunkered down with me and had a big two hour nap in the afternoon. And I know an early bedtime helps the cause too but really, these two things are a lot easier said than done. How do I get Little Red to nap longer than half an hour at a time? And how do I get him down to bed earlier to settle himself (he used to but now we have to rock him in our arms to sleep) without World War IV breaking out? I've tried almost every trick in the book, but obviously there's something I'm missing. Perhaps it's the non-solids eating (he was doing it and doing it good but now nothing, nadda, none.) The solids make a full belly which makes a sleepy baby which makes more sleep which means I get a happy, well rested baby instead of a needy, cranky baby, right? I just don't know.

So I'm sitting here wondering where the 6 month miracle is that I've heard so much about. Maybe I got my hopes up, maybe my expectations are too high, or maybe it's a false miracle. A mirage, a myth, a daydream that we Mums grasp onto when things are a bit crap. I know things will get better eventually, that this is probably just a phase, and I know I'm definitely not alone (I know other mamas going through exactly the same thing right now) and heavens that makes me feel better. But at 3am in the morning when it's dark and cold and I'm half asleep and the world feels like it's going to cave in, I wish on the nearest star for a little more sleepy feedy baby and a little less wakey cranky baby.

Yay for creating!!

I'm getting artistic - interweb style - so please bear with me while I pimp my blog, yippee!

Miss Bonnie x

The food conosseur - solids take 2

After a rather rocky start on the solids train a couple of weeks ago I made the executive decision to halt proceedings for a wee while. Not only was I getting frustrated, Little Red seemed to be going backwards rather than forwards and we were smack bam in the middle of moving house. I figured hey, it ain't going to hurt either of us if we take a step back and go back to solely boobie feeding - once we were settled in at the new place and all was peace, love and harmony again we'd have another shot.

The final box was unpacked last Thursday and the finishing touches put into Redford's bedroom (yes that's right! He now sleeps in his own room like a real big boy) so on Friday morning I thought OK, it feels good, let's do it. And away we went! A few days shy of hitting the 6 month mark (it's his half year birthday tomorrow - eek, my little man's growing up!) we hit solids with a vengeance. 

Day One started with mashed banana (unfortunately no photos, the camera was M.I.A) and then we moved onto a slice of apple later in the day....

 It ended up in the nose...

  then in the mouth "Hrm, I guess this is OK...."

 

  but in the end it was a lot more fun to play with.

Day Two was pureed pumpkin and kumara. Not as popular as the banana but it still went down alright. Most importantly though, this was the beginning of the spoon love affair.

Day Three was Only Organics Fruit Muesli which was by far the favourite. The spoon relationship is now in full swing. The Stars & Stripes look was unintentional but oh so patriotic.
 

  "It's OK for you to feed me with a spoon, Mum. As long as I get my own too."

 

  "Oh spoonie, I love you so!"

"We shall never be apart again."

So the solids have been a success thank goodness! As long as the button gets his special spoon - it must be this spoon, none other will suffice - everything is rainbows and lollipops. It's pretty cute really. Very cute, in fact. All these new tastes and textures to explore and what can I say? This time he's really taken it in his spoon obsessed stride.

Post Script: The Fruit Muesli which was the firm favourite has unfortunately been banished to the back of the cupboard for a while - gluten on a sensitive wee tum only two days into the journey made for many tears, a rock hard torso and a very red-faced attempt at pooping to no avail. My poor wee bean! So we'll be laying off wheat and gluten for a bit, fingers crossed I don't have an intolerant baby though, I myself have a very strong love affair with carbs!

Mind that bump - the magic massage table

One of my favourite people, Gillian Parkinson of Le'Essience, has recently purchased herself a super cool new toy..... 

OK it's a massage table, you say. What's so great about that? But wait.... there's more!

This isn't just any old massage table, it's a custom made table for those of us who need a good old rub the most - expectant mothers! Hooray! That big round cut-out you see on the table is made especially for that ever expanding baby bump so pregnant ladies can now too experience the relaxation of a full body and back massage like all us flat-bellied folk.

Particularly in my last trimester when I was all pinched nerves and pulled muscles, Gillian's massages came as a welcome relief. Yet as good as the shoulder and back rubs were, it's always a little hard to get super comfy and relaxed when you're straddling a chair with your belly propped on a cushion and your chin resting on the back of the seat.

Needless to say, when I heard about this super special mechanism I knew I had to share it with the baby wielding mamas out there. And not only this, once mine and Baby Daddy's number two is in the oven (but don't hold your breath) I'll be face down on that table faster than you can say "Painkillers, please!"

Help! In desperate need of some "solid" advice!

To all the mamas out there - 

Little Red is just over 5 months now and showing all the right signs for starting solids. He's shoving everything in his mouth, making chewing motions, gawking (and grabbing!) at our food and is still hungry after his milk feeds, not to mention waking earlier and earlier each morning for his feed.

Yet, we've been trying for just over a week now and every time he seems to be less and less interested. At first he would push it out with his tongue. Then he started to swallow some of it. Now he's gone backwards and has begun the "motor boat game" or he just clamps his mouth shut - and I'm making sure I do the solids thing when he's at least a little hungry, i.e. about an hour or so after his milk feed.

I started on pumpkin and that went down like a cup of cold sick. I then moved onto Watties Organic apple and apple/banana which he was swallowing for a wee while but now spits out. I thought sticking to one flavour for a few days would ease him into it, but nope! I tried him on some pumpkin/kumara today for lunch (pureed to the point of liquidity) and again, my face got more of it than his tummy did.

I'm not sure what to do and need some help. Do I stick with it and hope he gets his head around it? Do I put it on hold for a week or so and try again? I figured he'd take to it like a duck to water seeing as he's quite the little piglet but I was wrong...

What to do, what to do? If you have any tips then please, enlighten me!

Miss Bonnie x

Babies & boobies - Jessica's breastfeeding story

When I was pregnant I knew that I was going to breastfeed. I've always found it an odd concept (milk? from there?) but wanted the absolute best for my baby - I had visions of myself as this breastfeeding goddess in pretty, floating tops that gave discreet boob access for my bubs, sitting proudly in cafes around town.

When Ava was first born, the midwife laid her on my chest and she snuffled around for a while before being helped to latch on which jerked me out of my half-sleep with a loud "ouch!" Everyone looked at me in surprise and the doctor reassured me that it gets better.

It didn't.

On the second night Ava wouldn't stop screaming. She was starving. I fed her continuously for three hours (crying myself the entire time because of the pain) but she was beside herself. Finally a kindly nurse offered me some formula in a bottle. She drank 20mls in under a minute and slept all night long.

By day three I was still in hospital, had no milk coming in, no colostrum coming out, a big painful split down each nipple and blood blisters to top it all off. I couldn't wear a bra any more because the blisters would bleed and my already-sore nipples would stick to the bra. It was agony. By the time a lactation consultant could come and see me I couldn't latch Ava on at all.

On day four I went home and set up the electric breast pump and began expressing. I still had very little milk, I'd pump for twenty minutes and get 30 mls of milk so was supplement feeding with formula as well. It took three weeks for my breasts to heal up. By that point I was getting 70 mls of milk every three hours by expressing, but it still wasn't enough for Ava who lost 20% of her body weight in hospital. I began latching her back on again and SURPRISE! it wasn't too painful. Uncomfortable yes, but not like before.

I got two lovely weeks of really breastfeeding (plus some supplementary formula) and was happy to put the pump away and never look at it again. Then at six weeks old Ava suddenly started refusing the breast. We went to a lactation consultant again who said the latch was perfect (stoked) but to try pumping and make sure there wasn't a supply problem. So out came my old friend the breast pump, and I discovered my milk had dried up. I guess it's worth mentioning that my Mum's milk dried up when I was six weeks old - the same age as my daughter was.

I tried Weleda nursing tea and Fenugreek at the advice of the midwife and Plunket nurse but no success. I was really distressed at losing my milk - after all the effort to breastfeed I only got two weeks! I went to see my doctor, who offered me a script for Domperidone. Domperidone is an anti-nausea drug prescribed to cancer patients and one of its side effects is lactation. It worked a dream. My milk came back and I had more than ever before. Ava was happy and started really gaining weight, I felt like a proper mum finally and I didn't need the breast pump!

Aside from lactation, one of the other side effects of Domperidone is weight gain. After two months of taking it I found I had put on 11 kgs and was the same weight as when I was 30 weeks pregnant. Talk about devastated! I weighed up all the pros and cons and finally decided that I would stop taking the Domperidone and hope for the best. Ava was three and a half months old - I wanted to breastfeed until she was six months at least but I felt that gaining so much weight was putting my health at risk. It seemed so unfair after being pregnant, then losing the bump and fluid only to put it all back on again.

After stopping the Domperidone my milk lasted two more weeks then disappeared for good. Ava was breastfed until 4 months old, and I'm really proud of my efforts. I know I tried my absolute hardest and will attempt to breastfeed again with number two. She's now a happy bottle-drinking 7 month old.

I did get an official verdict about why I couldn't produce breastmilk - my body struggles to produce oxytocin, which is why I was in labour for 55 hours (ow!!) and then couldn't make much breastmilk. But at the end of the day, I think a healthy baby is the most important thing regardless of how they're fed and a little breastmilk at the start is still amazing for a baby's health.

Babies & boobies - my breastfeeding story

Breastfeeding. What a daunting thought. Well, it was for me. During my pregnancy I knew I would breastfeed yet I was absolutely terrified. I wasn't worried about labour. I wasn't worried about childbirth. Nor was I worried about the constant sleepless nights ahead. But when it came to breastfeeding I was a-shakin' in my boots!

Who knows why? Perhaps it was due to the fact that as soon as that wee fleck of a heartbeat started squirming around in my belly my boobs felt like they'd had a run in with a baseball bat and my nipples felt like they'd lost a long battle with sandpaper. I couldn't even bear to touch them let alone have a gaping human hoover hone in on them! Also, I just figured that it was going to be hard. How would baby know what to do? And more importantly, how would I? There's only so much "training" one can do in this situation!

Once Redford popped out though it was a different story. Having spent the first four minutes of my sons life watching him struggling for breath whilst tubes were shoved down his throat and oxygen masks hovered over his tiny, squidgy face my motherly instinct kicked in and all I wanted to do was cheer him up with a sweet boobie/face plant move.

And face plant he did. Little Red turned out to be the child you hear about in ante-natal class. You know, the one that picks himself up with superhuman strength and somehow, in one deft ninja move, goes from snuggling under your neck one moment to headbutting your boob the next and then suck suck sucking away. Needless to say, I was all new mother naivete and thought "Sweet! No hard work required, the boy's a pro." Oh but I was wrong. 

Pumped up with new found hope and the belief that motherhood was going to be a cinch I pleaded with the hospital staff to let us go home the next night and, somewhat reluctantly, they consented. Obviously, I don't know better than the midwife. Within two hours of being home the little peanut chose to exercise his lungs at full volume and his hunger at full capacity. My colostrum was OK - it did the trick for half an hour or so, but this child wanted milk and he wanted milk now. I have no doubt that our neighbours were counting the ways to murder us in our sleep (sleep? what sleep?) for the noise that was reverberating from our bedroom. Thus began the infamous late-night dummy run. I figured that after about 45 minutes bubs was getting fed up with trying and simply comfort sucking to fall asleep so a dummy wouldn't go astray in this situation. So....

12.30am: Baby Daddy Nick gets sent out to buy dummies.
1.20am: I call Nick to see where the heck he is only to find out that he's made his way out to Lower Hutt in a desperate attempt to find a supermarket still open.

*Note to self: win Lotto and start up a 24 hour baby supplies store.

1.45am: Nick calls me, "Um, I'm just at the petrol station looking for some but I'm pretty sure the attendant thinks I'm either shoplifting or on drugs...."
2.00am: Nick returns with empty hands, apologising profusely. Oh dear.

With snippets of sleep here and there, we manage to get through the first night with a visit from our midwife growing thankfully nearer. Hoping for a magic answer when she finally arrived we were a little let down when she told us to hang in there, my milk would come through soon enough. So we waited. Then the night came around again and if I thought it couldn't get any worse I was wrong. At 11.30pm I began the 9 hour feeding marathon. This consisted of me sitting in bed with the boy permanently attached to my boobs (both of us drifting in and out of light sleep) until 8.30am when the midwife returned again and we waited for yet another magic answer - we were told again to hang in there, my milk would probably come through tonight and if not we could look at topping bubs up with formula.

Thankfully the midwife was right and my sanity was saved (not that there was much left after the whole 14 hours of sleep I'd had since going into labour 4 days earlier). I still remember the feeling of the milk letting down: all of a sudden there was a warm tingling sensation and within 20 minutes my boobs had gone up a cup size and looked like mini versions of Pammy's melons. Finally, with a little effort, Red latched himself like a pro once again, he got a belly full of delicious milk and we got a half decent night's sleep.

The next 6 weeks were full on. Little was a hungry tyke and when people suggested I get him into a routine and feed him every 2 hours I smiled and nodded but never took heed. This boy needed to be fed on demand and there was no two ways about it. He was also a lazy feeder, unlatching before the hind milk got flowing so he was only satiated for a wee while. My midwife recommended feeding him off only one breast each feed which helped immensely and a friend of mine also suggested bottle feeding him before his longest patch of sleep at night so out came the breast pump and by around 8 weeks we finally had a baby that slept well, averaging 6-7 hours a night. This was a lifesaver, even if he was still feeding every hour to hour and a half during the day. 

My milk supply has always been, and still is, a mystery to me. Sometimes I seem to have gallons stored away in there and other times I literally have to sit there milking myself to get even a drop. This plus the fact that he got used to feeding via bottle and is hideously impatient led me down the top-up-with-formula road which I had originally wanted to avoid. At first I felt horrible about doing it, that my milk wasn't enough for him and that everyone would judge me but in the end I figured the most important thing was keeping peanut full and happy and if anyone had a problem with it then it was theirs alone.

So now, at 5 months, I feel like we're finally in a feeding routine. He breastfeeds every 3-4 hours during the day with a bottle at 9pm before bedtime and usually wakes at around 5am for another feed. I love breastfeeding him, I adore the closeness and strong bond we have and how feeding time is just Mummy and baby time. We've just started him on solids which he's slowly getting his head around - watch this space for foodies blogs! - so aren't needing to top him up so much with formula.

All in all, I feel I've had a good run with breastfeeding. For something I was so terrified about to begin with I think Little Red and I came out the other end OK. When it comes down to it, it's such a special time and to be honest, I'll be pretty bummed out the day he stops for good!

From cradle to cot - my tiny tot is growing up!

Little Red celebrated his 5 month birthday on Saturday so last night we decided to honour the occasion by finally moving him into his cot. Having put the "transition" off as long as we could, we eventually took the plunge after realising that he was 1) the only baby in coffee group still in a cradle and 2) now playing footsies with the safety bars every time he had a stretch.

So! Up went the cot, out came the mattress and on went the sheets and blankets and boy was it big. We put Little Red in there after setting it up to see just how wee he still was and you pretty much had to squint to find him.

As the night grew ever closer I became slightly apprehensive. While he is a reasonably good sleeper (averaging a 7-8 hour block each night) he's one hell of a stirrer and will quite often get me up to pop his dummy back in around 2 or 3am. Having slept right next to me in his cradle or, when he's really lucky, in bed with me and Nick I wasn't sure how well I would fare having him *shock! horror!* across the other side of the room. I had gotten so accustomed to knowing he was within a metre's reach of me at all times that I felt uneasy having him now about 10 metres away from me - yes, we have an enormous bedroom.

The kid may as well have had his first day at school for the way I was carrying on. I felt as if I was standing on the doorstep bidding him adieu as he jumped in his car and drove off to college, only to return in mid-semester break with a girl on his arm who he claimed was the love of his life (which reminds me of something my Mum always used to say: your kids are only ever on loan to you). My baby was growing up! 

Talk about separation anxiety. On my part, not his. At 9.30pm on the dot after having guzzled his bottle I gently removed our slumbering angel from the arms of Nick, took him upstairs and tucked him in and wham! He was out like a light not to wake again til 6.30am. No early morning grizzles for his dummy. No footsies. No nothing. Just a perfectly content, sleeping bundle. 

I do sit here wondering if it's all too good to be true. That it was just beginners luck and tonight I'll be making the trek from our bed to his in the cold, eerie darkness of the wee morning hours to scramble for his dummy and pop it back in before he gets too worked up. In some ways (I feel it now, but possibly not at 2am) I kind of hope he does need me to make that trip. I don't know how I feel about him being settled and happy in his cot so far away from me. Surely he would feel the same? A little sad that he's not right next to me anymore? Hrm. Perhaps I should lay off the helicopter mum antics.

So, I guess we find ourselves at a milestone. As much as I miss having Little Red close, I do hope the cot thing works out as smoothly as it did last night. I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed my 8 hours of unbroken sleep. Let's see if I get it again tonight.

Lets play the shame game - Baobab Cafe, Newtown

A dear friend of mine sent me an email the other day ranting and raving over the treatment Jessica, a buddy of hers got when lunching in Baobab Cafe a week or so ago. Having read it and growing understandably more grizzly with each sentence, I got in touch with Jessica to get the full story and here it is, straight from the horses (I use the word horse figuratively, of course) mouth:

I went into Baobab last Friday morning with my 7 month old daughter Ava to meet two friends from my Mothers Network Group and their daughters aged 4.5 months and 8 months. We grabbed a table and moved our buggies out of the way so they weren't blocking any of the other tables or the aisles. The owner immediately came up and said that as the cafe was small our buggies were rather a pain and could we move them outside. All three of us were using them at the time so clearly we couldn't and moved them well out of the way instead.

My daughter Ava started having a little cry so I picked her up, gave her a cuddle and put her dummy in. She cried for about 2 minutes and the owner came over again and the resulting conversation went something like this (not word for word of course, but you get the gist) ....

Owner: You're really going to have to leave. Your baby has been crying for ages and people are leaving because of you. Everyone is staring at you. If your baby is crying you need to take her out of the cafe. You can take her for a walk and come back if you want but you can't stay here, you're annoying the other patrons.

Me: We'll leave, but we won't be coming back... ever!

Owner: I have a baby too you know, but you can't just let them cry in a cafe. It's very irresponsible and it's causing the other people to leave. You need to take the baby away now.

Me: OK that's fine, you can stop now. You've said more than enough and we're leaving.

Owner: Irresponsible blah blah blah, annoying other patrons blah blah blah.

And so we left. On the way out I apologised to the two tables next to us for disturbing them and both said they hadn't been disturbed in the slightest! I was really upset and was in tears by the time we got outside, it was sad because I used to go there all the time and know the staff well who are all really lovely - they always said hello to Ava and she always had a smile for them! Good food, good coffee, good staff. Shame about the owner....

Needless to say, I most definitely won't be blessing them with my patronage. I understand the buggy thing, or would if they were blocking the way of passing waiters. I also understand the crying thing, but not when bubs has been crying for all of two minutes and it's not bothering the other patrons. 

Does this mean that when the woman at the table next to me is shrieking with laughter to the point my ears are bleeding I can complain and you'll ask her to leave? Or when the straggly haired hippies sitting outside puffing away on their fags are blowing their smoke through the doors and windows right into my face I can have a whinge and you'll ask them to get out? I think you'll find the answer is no. Even if I asked, they wouldn't be shown the door. So why then, when no one even complains about an innocent crying baby is this Mama asked to leave? Unfair, I say, and unjust. The worst thing is, Jessica (offended mother) left a wee note of displeasure on Baobab's Facebook page which was promptly deleted. Ashamed, much?

Post Script: Have a read of me eating my words after bagging Baobab, naughty naughty!