Wednesday, September 29, 2010

My kids smell like maple syrup

I'm sure every mom has had the grumbling of sticky kids, sticky toys, sticky floors, tables, countertops, clothes, faucets, cars, pets, walls, ceilings, transmissions you name it. If you gives kids something sticky to consume, chances are they are going to get it everywhere. My kids have been on a pancake kick for the last 6 months. They'd live off pancakes if we let them. The good thing about it, is I can make a mega batch on Sundays and freeze them, and we're set for the week. And these are no ordinary pancakes either, no Aunt Jemima for us, homemade, from scratch pancake mix with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg, they are pieces of art really. Then they are drowned in maple syrup by my two little pancake monsters.

Said maple syrup is tracked everywhere and since my floors are granite tile, the only way to really see it is to step in it, which in socks, you've tracked it halfway around the house before you notice, or eventually it morphs and grows into a giant spot of stickiness with everything including the cat stuck to it. We don't actually have a cat, but I figure if we did, it would eventually get stuck to the spot. I am constantly wiping down the boys after breakfasts and despite using 70,000 wipes, the teachers still complain that other children are sticking to mine.

I used to fight against this, think about banishing the pancake. Why can't my kids eat cereal like other kids? Except Mister N doesn't really care for cereal, even the super sugary stuff we sometimes get for camping/Christmas and A Dude loathes all things dairy.

But then this morning, as A Dude is running around in a t-shirt and diapers, playing with the baby by my favourite window that lets in the perfect amount of morning light this time of year, I catch a whiff of him. He smells like maple syrup, in fact both my guys do (soon to be three once Baby D can enjoy), frequently. It's something I've missed in the hustle and bustle of family life. It's a good smell, it's one of those moments where I think I've created an association of that smell with my crazy boys. For all the hair pulling trouble they cause me, for the stickiness and yelling and picking up toys and pleading with them to please behave, for the love of God BEHAVE! They are precious. They are full of sticky kisses and dirty presents for us. They are in tune with our feelings and are the first to tell us not to worry and that they are well. They remind me not to sweat the small stuff, something I need to listen to much more. For the larger picture is that we are together, happy and we are all loved. If the transmission eventually corrodes due to excess syrup finding its way there and falls and sticks to the driveway, it really doesn't matter.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Mommy Groups and Me

When I was a new mother, I tried joining some mother's groups. However being in the suburbs and not driving and most being downtown, getting to them was hard. So I started one. I can still remember the first two moms I met and I'm still friends with them. I remember meeting all of my mom friends. It was usually awkward, weird, but we all had new mom status together and I lucked out largely with a bunch of non judgmental easy going woman, most of whom I'm still proud to call pals. We all discovered new things together, went through stages, compared milestones, worried about teething, went to baby shows and basically shared an awesome year together of firsts and learning. I felt sad when my mom friends went back to work, I'm the only SAHM. Anyhow, as the years progress, we're still learning. Teething and walking have given way to speech therapy, swim lessons and booster seats. But since most of my mom friends work, I decided to try joining another mother's group, since I'm a new mom again, mind you I have three under my belt, but I can be the super-relaxed mom who's BTDT, uber cool and always with sage advice.

Today I went to my first meetup at a restaurant for breakfast. Well, I was the most experienced. I was also the most bored. Most of the kids there were 2 and under, some moms on their second, but basically everyone still brand spanking new. I sat there listening to teething stories and sleeping techniques, breastfeeding and daycare worries. I realize how grumpy I sound, but having BTDT isn't the greatest thing afterall. I don't want to talk about the virtues of Camilia like it's a wonder drug. It was a wonder drug for me 5 years ago! I'm not getting sleep, but unlike the new moms who are fretting over it, I know that this too shall pass and maybe so sleep deprived I don't care. Talking about the virtues of Guardian Swim, no...I want to bitch about how the city makes it so friggin hard to register for preschool classes. Clearly I'm in a different head space. Clearly, I'm a grumpy bitch. Clearly my mom friends who've been at it for 5+ years need to stop working and keep me company. ;)

I also remember back to the time where I was carving out a new identity as a woman who's become a mother. I remember how hard it was trying to keep I Am Woman Joy, and have Sweet MamaJoy in the same space and it wasn't easy, because I didn't know who Sweet MamaJoy was, so I empathize with those women, they're still trying to find out. I'm just past that point and I know i'll continue growing as a mother and woman, but I'm definitely past the infancy stages, even though I have an infant.

I don't know if I'll go back to this group, they were a nice bunch of moms, but I now know why our group never kept moms with older kids, we were freaking boring to them! Hopefully they will all find great companionship in each other that will last despite the parting of ways once mat leaves are up and lives mixed with work take over. If they're lucky, they'll carve out some space for their friendships at least once a week as we have, and grow together as mothers, and as women. As for me, I couldn't get out of there fast enough and texted one of my mom friends to meet for a coffee during the week.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Wrappin' Mama

Yo, yo! Whassup! I'm a wrappin' Mama here. Well, not really, that was my brief stint into coolness, I'll go back to being the geek who watches Star Trek and Road to Avonlea when she nurses at night. Star Trek TNG mind you!

I am however a wrapping Mama in that I am baby wearing and loving it. Tonight's meal was brought to my family by the letters MamaKangourou baby wrap (A Canadian company). Why as a third time mother am I only really discovering the massive benefits of this? Well because as a first and second time mother I suffered from massive misalignmentm, causing serious pain to my hips and back. By the third pregnancy, I had had it and went to be "adjusted" aka have my neck, spine and hips cracked in really freaky scary sounding ways. But I feel oh so good and I can walk, sit, stand and carry my baby in a wrap, thus saving my sanity and getting dinner on the table without having my 1 month old (you read that right, I can't believe it either!) go into thermonuclear meltdown.

It's not that I haven't tried before. With child number one, I got a Maya sling. I hated it, no give, long and stupid rings were not my cup of tea. As Mister N got older, I got an Ergo carrier, which is great for an older guy, but a little difficult for me to adjust the kid on my back as I have ridiculously short and inflexible arms. However, it is Dearest's favourite carrier and he wore the big guy often. With Crazy A, I learned about the Cuddlywrap by Peapod, which is a Canadian company, and loved the concept, my problem is, that I found it too long and had a lot of give which made it hard for me to feel like the baby is really, really secure. I tried it with this guy, but again, found the same issue. In enters my MamaK wrap, just one I picked up at ToysRUs. It has some give, but not a lot, and it's a bit shorter than my Cuddly wrap. The colours aren't nearly as nice, but I'll deal, because it's SAVING MY LIFE!!!

When I pick the boys up, I wrap the baby. When I'm cooking, I wrap the baby. When I want to eat without being interrupted, I wrap the baby. He falls asleep, he's out, and I'm here blogging with a coffee while Crazy A trashes something (I'm letting this happen, so I can have peace) and Mister N is watching toons. Yeah, yeah, bad mom, but sane mom! Sane mom with dinner made, happy kids, a sleeping baby and a coffee.

So mamas, I command you, go out, buy. Lots of baby boutiques have wrap sessions where you can try on a bunch, and if they don't, ask them for one. Ask your friends, go join a mom's group and get everyone to bring in their wraps/slings/carriers so you can test drive them. If you and your baby likes it, go and get one, doubletime.

One of my favourite places to buy crunchy stuff is another Canadian company. The owner is super fabulous and very friendly and ships fast. She's also a mom and knows that if we're making purchases in the middle of the night, we need it stat! By Nature. They are expensive, but your sanity is worth it.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Anniversary! Cue William Tell Overture

And if you don't get the reference of my title, then you were clearly deprived of years of quality lunch time TV with the Flintstones. If you haven't seen it, then you MUST watch this youtube link. Do not come back until you do, it's a vital part of pop culture and without it, you are less of a person!!! Happy Anniversary

So, yesterday was my anniversary with the Dearest. 11 years of wedded bliss...minus the diapers, dog poop, car breaking down in a snowstorm while we were fighting-then laughing at the futility of it all, cleaning, yada yada. Point is, we're pretty happy as a couple goes, in fact ridiculously happy for two people with three kids under five and no sleep. I learned something yesterday, Dearest actually does read my blog. He read my date night post and decided to apply that to our anniversary. Bear with me because I'm about to try and get fancy with blogging, adding pictures and someone is going to get hurt in the process.

My anniversary present from Dearest was grown up conversation! We couldn't really stray far from Baby D to go to a restaurant for a big long talk, so Dearest and two of my BFFs (Best Friend Forever) devised a plan to create a restaurant in my house. I learned something else, my BFFs are really good liars as I had spent the afternoon with them and the night before and not a word. Funny thing is, I had been moping to Dearest about my friends acting a little screwy and kind of aloof and in my hormone addled state that of course exponentially went from molehill to mountain in 0kph-lightspeed.

Anyhow, I spent the afternoon at Mom2Michael's (read her blog too BTW) celebrating the launch of her Pampered Chef business, and was told to come home between 5-5:10. Arriving home and saying the code "The Eagle has landed." waiting for Dearest to say "The fat man walks alone." Don't ask, I didn't! I was allowed out of the car and was greeted with this.

My own personal restaurant! We then waiting outside for the sitter to arrive. Our sitter being Mom2Michael who had just hosted a Pampered Chef party (BTW, buy from her) and understandably pooped. Okay, at this point, I'm feeling incredibly blessed and incredibly silly, that is until we enter.

At this point I'm feeling ridiculously silly because of my previous moping and to see BFF M playing the role of our hostess for our restaurant tonight. While Mom2Michael playing the role of most excellent auntie babysitter and spoiling the hell out of BabyD, BFF M spent the night waiting hand and foot on us, even bringing us a toy that jingles to serve as our bell.

Our afterdinner mint table. Which was the source of Monty Python jokes afterwards.

Our table on the second floor overlooking the park.

Dearest, we even had wine! Like grown ups.

Our hostess was kind enough to take a picture of us, once my camera decided to behave for her.

Our hostess taking a babysitting turn.

Mom2Michael and BabyD. I didn't realize this, but we colour coordinated yesterday.

Much props also have to go out to the Parental Units who took the two big guys. The two big guys who helped to set up and Mr. N for decorating and adding a glowy bracelet to mommy's valet key package.

Overall, I'm feeling mega blessed to have such amazing friends and a wonderful Dearest who took time out of their busy lives and after a hellish week the trifecta for those three to give us a couple hours of grown up time and conversation. The fact that these people went to such lengths for me, that was the best present of all. I only hope I can live up to their generosity and kindness when I'm given the opportunity. :)

Thursday, September 16, 2010

I'm awake...really

Okay, so I'm 3 1/2 weeks in parenting three. I'm 5 years older than when I did this the first time, and I'm wondering if I'm starting to feel it. Going from two to three kids has definitely been harder than going from zero to one or one to two. Of the three, one to two was the easiest.

I'm back to having zombie conversations where people are talking and I'm on autopilot, nodding and trying to follow. I spent a whole wine night being really quiet and even taking a few moments for myself and baby just trying to wake up-it wasn't the company, just me! I'm trying desperately hard to stick to my diet plan, but when I'm tired, I eat. Badly. My body craves the sugar and I spent over an hour in traffic this morning chasing down a raspberry, white chocolate scone. I had to leave my city for that, it's a big freaking city, even if I'm in the north eastern area often likened with Siberia! And what is it with Toronto drivers and rain? Why do we lose our ability to drive? Oh. Right! First diatribe. Did I mention my attention span is nil?

Where is the proud woman who proclaimed that 2 to 3 should be fine? That I was used to sleep deprivation, so bring it on! Who needs personal time? I'm a mom dammit, personal time is for wimps! Well, one week in and I was craving personal time, sleep and my ability to kick ass at Scramble again. The truth is, Baby D isn't that bad a sleeper. Any first time parent would be proud of getting a baby to sleep from 10-2, 2-4, 4-7, approximately. But I'm hurting, because in addition to baby, I have two little noisy, busy, bouncy crazy guys who've been very patient with their growling mommy bear after school. I've barely been able to muster up the energy to serve them snack, do a puzzle, I felt proud of myself for playing a video game with them (Nihao Kailan) so nominate me for Mother of the Year!

Dearest and I have desperately been trying to find our groove. It took approximately this long when we added A-Dude to the family, and we only survived because we introduced Mr. N to Jurassic Park style animated dinosaur documentaries. But we're still floundering around and God help us if something in the house breaks, a child gets sick with something like a cold or one of the cars falters because we will fall to pieces like a house of cards.

So where is my perspective time? Well, my mother in law reminded me ever so carefully with a chair pointed at me and a whip in case I attack her like a lion their tamer, that I've survived this before. Much to both our surprises I didn't want to eat her, because it's been something I've desperately holding onto. "This too shall pass" God willing...please! PLEASE! God, make it pass! I promise I'll stop swearing in the car at other drivers. (Another nomination for Mother of the Year award) I did survive though, I survived the first time with little know how, no support group of moms and no confidence. I survived the second time with a much younger toddler and no car. This time I can do it! I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. And once Baby D starts sleeping, things magically fall into place and things are humming along, I will be a much more coherant person, I promise and Dearest with have a date with a doctor with a sharp pair of scissors! (Another coping mechanism I use to get through the days. Muahahahahaaaaaaa)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Girls and Curls

So after 10 months of dutifully staying away from hair dye while being pregnant (something that damn well better get me into Good Mom Heaven!) I went back to my beloved colourist. I did actually see her in June for a cut, but since then, pregnancy hormones have been the equivilant to hair speed and my hair just past my shoulders had made it to my waist and looked something like a lion's mane. Add to that brassy year old highlites and I was unhappy.

My Dearest being the Dearest he is, booked me an appointment with my colourist/stylist. I don't know if he would have knowing how long the tear down and rebuilding of my hair colour would take. FOUR AND A HALF HOURS later, I'm sporting a lovely new cut, new fall colour, including a new base coat and I feel freaking fabulous. Especially knowing that when straightening my hair, I won't have the Wookie 'fro to contend with for a while. In fact, I'm somewhat counting on losing some hair post partum.

I've noticed that every woman wants the type of hair she doesn't have. I love having my hair straight because it's way easier to take care of on the day to day. Whereas most straight haired gals I know of course would kill for some volume and body. But if you guys want to know how to keep your hair in tip top shape, walk up to a woman with a lovely set of curls, she'll me! I love my hair...LOVE my hair. I abuse it with a hot iron, but I also make sure it has plenty of good food, I take supplements not because they're good for me, but because they're good for my hair. I have no problems dropping coin on Moroccan Oil (and if you don't know what it is, and you have wavy/curly/thick hair, go out and buy it!) traveling across the city for my favourite shampoo, going to the hairdresser for colour. My hair OWNS me and I am a willing pawn in it's chess game.

Why? Well, I figure, when you're feeling bedraggled and not happy about your entire picture, you've got to take care of your assets. In my case, my hair. Which is why I felt fine in going and spending 4.5 hours in the chair. Anything to get me closer to being back on track to where I was pre-pregnancy and in fact it's something I recommend for every post partum woman. You're tired, your body has just been through 10 months of upheaval and just when you've crossed the finish line and think you're done and get it back from the pint sized loanee, you're breastfeeding! You need to do something nice for your body, I truly believe it has an impact on your overall self, even if only small and superficial. I walked out feeling like a million bucks and when I feel like that, I look like it. So if any other Dearest's are reading this, go book your wonderful woman some time at a spa, or her favourite hairdresser, and since chances are, no Dearests are reading this other than my Dearest, go drag your Dearest to the computer and make him/her read this and then let him (I say him, because female Dearests would fess up about the wonderful blog they got the idea from) pretend it was his idea. I'm sure my Dearest will throw you a bone. I only wish I had time for a facial and pedicure and a latte would have been nice too. (hint hint!)

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

With Christians like these...who needs enemies

So, for those living under self imposed media blackout (you're killing me, you know) or under a rock, here's a link.

Stupid Bigoted Church Burning Qur'an

No judgment in my link title eh? Well if you can't tell, I'm against this. VEHEMENTLY. I don't even know where to begin on the offensiveness this church is displaying. They think they're going to send a shot back to radical morons who happen to practice Islam and tell them that the rest of the world has had enough. I get it, I've had enough of radical fundamentalist morons, especially those who co-opt faiths to spread their messages of hatred and violence and anything that destroys peace between different religions...Hold the phone, that's exactly that this church is doing!! Yep, I've had enough, and I'm just about ready to go there and hold a counter-protest burning a bunch of Bibles just to show them what's what. Seriously, I've considered it, which is a big thing considering I'm Christian.

I don't know if that makes me a good Christian or bad, but I do know that I am a Christian who has had it up to here with all these fundamentalists from Sarah Palin to these Qu'ran burning folks. I'm tired of having to explain that I'm not one of THOSE Christians. I'm tired of seeing people judging me for picking and choosing from the Bible, yes bad me, I pick and choose those awful awful messages about loving thy neighbour, taking the plank out of my eye, forgiveness, while they stay true to Leviticus, eating pork and condemning gays and lesbians, ooops! Wait.

What is the freaking point of being religious if it's going to make you so filled with hate and judgment? How can these people burn a seriously important book to millions of people who've done dick all to them. Which is why I would not burn the Bible, since it would probably hurt far more than my intended target. How can you be so blind, so uncompassionate, how can you justify that in the name of Christ? Someone who came to teach us these important lessons of compassion, love, forgiveness, turning the other cheek, acceptance. Are we reading the same Bible? I mean, the lessons are pretty clear to me, its how I try to live my life, and guess what? That life includes Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Pagans, Christians who have way different views than me, but it does not include hurting others, acts of bigotry and just plain ole meanness.

The acts of this church is going to potentially incite violence, it's going to piss off a lot of radical morons, it's going to inflate the egos of another bunch of radical morons, but bottom line, it's going to hurt a lot of people. If this "church" believes for a second that it's only going to be hurting Muslims, it's got another thing coming. I will hurt, I know many of my fellow Christians will hurt. I can't speak for the big guy in the sky or Jesus, but from my readings and my faith, I feel, you might as well be taking his lessons of love and throwing them back in his face, and that, has got to hurt! What's the point of using a message of love and peace to hurt others?

Thankfully for this church, Jesus is a master at forgiveness, I wish I were as good, it will be my spiritual cross to bear for the time being and I will have to re-read a hell of a lot of Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu to refocus on that. But in the meantime, I will focus on letting everyone within earshot know, that I, Joy Carder, representing my family and the Republic of Carderville, as a Christian, am outraged.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

200 Pounds, here I come

I haven't seen the shy side of 200lbs since...well I was in a post nap hangover trying to figure it out and I couldn't, but I remember it coincided with a massive bout of depression and me taking leave of all my good sense. Stop laughing. I got down to 180lbs, largely because I wasn't eating. People noticed me and I felt great about my body, not so great on the inside. When I started feeling good and safe, I started eating again, and usually not chosing healthy things or appropriate amounts to eat. When I feel safe, I eat...I just had that epiphany right now actually. Damn, I should really return to being a counsellor some times. lol

The next time I tried weight loss was after my Tummybear (DS2 and I'm sure he'll love me for the nickname) was born. I got a trainer, took up some aquafit classes and everything. I learned that I eat when I exercise and my choices aren't so great. I did manage to get down to 210 lbs. I manage to hide weight well, so at that weight, I can usually get into a size 16. I know many of you roll your eyes, but seriously, come look in my closet! I have friends who are 16s and borrow clothes from me.

I've always tried to not gain massive amounts of weight during my pregnancies. This pregnancy was no different, but I was bigger, the weight I gained was well beyond the 15-20lb rule they give to us fat chicks, which I also ignore because I think that rule is obnoxious. Anyhow, thankfully most of that weight turned out to be baby. I stepped on the scale today and it revealed that I was 221lbs, which was five pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight.

Not that that is something to be thrilled about. I made a vow to myself that I would see the shy side of 200lbs again. Lately, other than my peanut butter cups which I have to shock my system into life after my naps, if Lord Baby D deigns to give me one, I've been reaaaallllly good, which is reaaaaallllly hard when you're on domperidone which gives you the appetite of an African Honey Badger, Wolverine *sigh* Hugh Jackman and Tasmanian Devil all rolled into one. So I've been snacking on granola bars, honeycrisp apples...thank GOD it's fall, lots of water and making sure I get my three squares a day. Heck, taking 40 milk making supplements has it's benefits, I'm barely hungry after those and 24oz of water I need to choke them down.

I'm trying to figure out why I've vowed myself to a lower weight. Maybe I've been inspired by the plus sized women in my life who have shedded the pounds one way or another. I don't have any huge desire to be skinny, I'm thinking 180lbs would be ideal for me. Being pregnant has reminded me what it's like to carry around extra weight and how good it feels to get rid of that. I caught myself running up the stairs the other day. Why? BECAUSE I CAN!!! I can squat again without my legs begging for mercy.

So now, I have to figure out how to finagle healthy eating choices with feeling safe. I still want to eat and believe me, I loooove good food, but I need to learn to curtail butter and creams and all those rich items and replace them with ample fruits, veggies and lean cuts of meat. I need to realize that my safety doesn't require me to be fat and that because I feel safe I shouldn't go carte blanche with the food, weird sort of cycle I'm in. Other than going out for dinner, which is rare, I figure food has to have a good nutritional value to it, basically, other than my post nap defibullators, which are two small pieces of chocolate the good has to outweigh the bad.

Anyhow, sorry for the blather, I just needed to sort this out. I need everyone to wish me luck and if you're out with me and I'm contemplating something like french fries on top of calamari, seriously, take the menu and smack me over the head. I know some of you would revel in that.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Breastfeeding, take three

Breastfeeding has never come naturally for me. In that I mean, my body produces pitiful amounts of prolactin, a significant hormone needed to make breastmilk. I discovered this with my first baby who was minutes away from being admitted to the hospital due to my lack of breastmilk and dutifully following every book, nurse, lactation consultant in that I shouldn't give him the dreaded formula. Well, in the end it came down to formula or dehydration, guess which one I chose for my infant? That's not to say I didn't continue breastfeeding, whatever I had was good right? I went on a high dose of Domperidone (which cruelly sounds like Don Perignon), consulted everyone I could, even Jack Newman and it turns out, my hormone making capacity is screwed when it comes to prolactin, among a few other ones, fortunately less significant in my day to day life. So, easy, simple right? Give baby breastmilk and formula, no biggie, baby is growing, healthy, happy, and they lived happily every after.

Well that is until other people weigh in. I sought help from various organizations, people and mothers and in those wee hours of motherhood, I was pretty much told how much less of a mother I was because I hadn't worked hard enough to produce milk. I wasn't doing this or that and hadn't sacrificed enough. Short of going out to seek help, I was pretty much home, feeding, weighing my baby, obsessing over wet and dirty diapers and tailspinning into a nice case of PPD over it. A public health nurse told me that I was essentially feeding my newborn McDonalds when I supplemented, a LLL mom told me that my kid was destined to grow up to be stupid, fat and sick, some other new moms looked at me in disgust when I pulled out a bottle. As much as I like to tout I have a thick skin, I really don't.

Anyhow, alls well that ends well, well in a way....well, well, well. My milk eventually petered out at around 3-4 months, I ended up making some really awesome mom friends who didn't care what I fed my child, Dearest found a list of people I respected, who were all fed formula, ended up pretty smart, healthy and thin. I am two of the above myself...but my brilliance makes up for the lack of my svelte figure. My baby is almost 5, never an ear infection, has only had antibiotics once due to an unchecked hangnail gone wrong, wonderfully fit and almost as brilliant as his mother. My second, who pretty much followed the same feeding pattern,  unfortunately, he has asthma, like his father-who incidently was breastfed for a year, but no allergies, otherwise healthy, fit and despite a delay in starting to speak has now caught up and is making us laugh daily with his well timed outbursts.

So why was I up last night crying about being unable to provide my youngest with enough milk? Why am I hiding bottles and formula for when the midwife comes over? Why am I terrified for take one on a trip with me, therefore going no where? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm stronger than this...maybe I'm stronger when I've had sleep. Sleep helps...definitely! I think like a lot of breastfeeding mothers who get the stink eye when they feed in public, a lot of us moms who use a bottle aren't in much better shape, you can't win! Sometimes it's just a comment from someone who means well. Which to my grouchy sleep deprived mind today means "I need to educate the world because I've figured it all out and no one can be as together as me." My grouchy sleep deprived mind is prone to rattling off a laundry list of things I do, including taking 40 pills a day just to produce the bit of milk I do and then telling them to cram it, while simultaneously running them over with my stroller. Oh yes, I use a stroller too, shoot me!

Dearest has reminded me that there doesn't need to be either extreme, which is pretty much how we parent, but in these early days of being a mom again, sometimes the common sense...what little I have... has taken a backseat. So will someone please remind me that just over a week ago, I was insanely confident of my parenting abilities and doing my best with what I have and have managed to raise two wonderful guys so far and the fact that they were supplemented with formula was the furthest thing from my mind and worries.