Why I LOVE HATE LOVE Co-Sleeping

1. My nipples can now stretch from my side of the bed to San Diego (and now that I'm no longer living in California, that's really far away). This will really come in handy for when she's old enough to jump rope.


2. I get to sleep with one leg dangling off my bed. Try it, you just might like it.



3. She often gets a Lazy Latch. Which is great, if I want my nipple to be shaped like lipstick. And I totally do.



4. I have two states of sleep: warm and cozy heavenly sleep; OR, more commonly: fitful, baby's-pushing-me-off-the-bed sleep.


5. She does have better morning breath than my husband.


6. Being kicked and punched by my 6-month old in my sleep makes me have dreams that I'm fighting Jackie Chan. At least in my dream, I'm winning.


7. 3am diaper blow-outs are now considered 'family bonding time'.


8. We get to put all her baby furniture on craigslist and rent her room to a boarder.


9. CHOOSE ONE: I get to look forward to her upcoming crib transition OR I get to have a pajama party with my daughter every night for 18 years.


10. I am no longer the only one to wake up in a puddle of my own breastmilk {serves her right}.


11. When I lay down at night I get to lay on one side. And play a game where I try not to move for the entire night. This is great because even if I never fall asleep, at least my arm and leg get to.


12. I get to have one breast smaller than the other because I'm just to lazy to make her switch sides in the middle of the night.


13. I get to sleep in this position. It's very comfortable:



14. Friends and family get to give me all kinds of unsolicited advice, then shake their head at me when I write posts like this.


15. And, my REAL reason I LOVE to co-sleep: Every night she sleeps in one of two positions:

- Either hugging my breast, or

- Using it as a pillow :)

(I would include a photo, but I promised my mom no more internet nudity)

The Sucky Part of Mommyhood

Why is it that whenever moms talk about the sucky stuff of being a mommy they just kind of laugh it off or gloss over it? Like, when talking to a pregnant momma, they say things like, "Going to the movies, that'll be over with soon! Ha ha ha" or "Ha ha ha, I didn't sleep for two years straight! Ha ha ha!" or "She's on the boob 24 hours a day! Ha ha ha!"

When I was pregnant and heard comments like that, I laughed right along with them. And, I knew having a baby would be hard, but, for some, stupid reason I was under the impression that I would be able to just laugh about it at the time it was occuring. Like, "Ha ha ha, Precious Little Lily, you've been crying for 3 hours straight! Ha ha ha!"

Yeh, then reality hit in the form of a 9-lb boobie monster. It SUCKS being up at 4am with a crying baby. It SUCKS nursing until you have a dream that your nipples fell off (yes, I had a dream they fell off in the bathtub). It SUCKS when all you want to do is sleep more than a 3-hour stretch. It just SUCKS. And it especially SUCKS when all this continues for days, weeks and months on end with no real break.

I'm not saying that Mommyhood isn't rewarding and wonderful and fun and all that. But why can't mommies just be real with eachother? Mommyhood is hard. Really hard. And mommies often pretend like it's not.

I think all of us mommies have to agree that we will talk about it. We won't pretend to be Super Mommies. We'll ask for help. Or for an ear. Or a shoulder. Or for a muzzle for our babes. I'll go first: I love my babe, but sometimes, Mommyhood sucks.

Why is There a Sailor Farting in our Bedroom?

Every morning between 3-5am my sweet little baby girl raises her chunky little baby legs in the air and just lets it rip. I'm not talking about a cute little toot here and there, I'm talking about sailor farts. Nasty, big man farts. And they smell. Because I don't want you to vomit all over your computer, the description will stop there. Your welcome.

My newbie husband and I were foolish enough to believe that this is normal baby behavior. However, one day when discussing baby farts with a friend of his, we were informed otherwise. Walking away red-faced, we decided to do a little research on the matter.

Ok, well no real medical sites pop up when you type "stinky baby farts" into google. No big surprise. There are several forum posts out there that seem to have traced the problem to what I'm eating. It's probably the chocolate. I gave it my all to quit eating chocolate a while ago and it just didn't pan out. I have given up my looks, my breasts and other areas of my body for my baby, I will NOT give up chocolate for her.

A Letter to My Lily-Pie

Dear Lily:

Here I sit. All alone in my bedroom for the first time in almost 5 months. We've come a long way. From those first few nights, your daddy and me taking turns watching you while you slept, while the other one of us caught a few winks.

Then just me and you hauled up in the guest room so daddy could get a little sleep before work. An arrangement we kept for weeks because you just didn't seem to want to be away from momma at all. A time that brings up only positive memories.

Your daddy, whose new role was to take care of me so that I could take care of you, would get me all set up in our spare room. He set up our flashlight, crackers for me to snack on (I was so hungry breastfeeding in those early weeks), the remote control, ice water, breast cream, diapers, wipes, burp rags, sleep positioner, the list goes on and on. He kept me well stocked. Those were the nights that I would sing you to sleep. You Are My Sunshine. Or Amazing Grace- my grandmother's favorite.

It didn't take long for daddy to miss us at night, so we went into our bedroom. You, tucked away in your bassinet and me, huddling on the edge of the bed so I could frequently peek in on you. Daddy often got worried too, and he'd lean over and make sure your chest was moving up and down. To save my voice, we started playing music that would go all night long.

There were several weeks where all we could do to allow you to sleep was to bring you in bed with us. It made daddy nervous. He wanted to make sure you were safe. I wasn't nervous. I could feel you breathing. You slept best while using my breast as your pillow and folding your arm over it claiming it as yours.

And, now, Lily Pie. My bedroom is so empty. The bassinet has been removed, just an empty space now. Our bed is empty. No more diapers or wipes between me and daddy. No more baby toys or blankets or even your glow worm. And the music that I've heard playing every night for months is now unclear, filtered through the baby monitor. Just as your cries will be when you awaken for your first nightfeeding.

But, the time has come, my darling, for you to move to your own space. You're no longer sleeping soundly with us and you're waking up still drowsy. It's been almost three hours since I laid you in your crib. Eyes closed and so peaceful. Daddy already asked twice if I should check on you. But you're okay. Mommy knows. You just need your sleep little girl. I love you.

Love, Mommy

What I Didn't Know...

I made a little list about what I knew about being parent before I became one and what I didn't know:

I knew that I would hate getting parenting advice as much as I do.

I knew I would love my baby more than I could have realized before her.

I knew that whatever we were dealt, we'd be able to handle it. So I never worried about it.

I knew the newborn stage wouldn't be my favorite.

I thought my baby would sleep more.

I thought she would cry less.

I never expected to not feel like a normal person or to not get dressed in the morning.

Or to not put on make-up or shower daily.

I didn't realize how judgmental I had been about moms prior to me becoming a mom.

I didn't realize that I strongly prefer the attachment parenting style over traditional.

I didn't know that a baby could hate her car seat so much.

I didn't know that that would greatly impact where we could feasibly take her.

I didn't know that it's an uncontrollable mommy instinct to want her covered in a blanket whenever she sleeps. Or whenever she isn't wearing pants. Or socks. Or whenever it was less than 72 degrees in the house.

I didn't know that only an hour or two of crying could be a 'good day'.

I didn't know I would feel so alone.

I didn't know that even when Rob and I are both home, I would be the one really responsible for her.

I didn't know I would prefer it that way.

I didn't know she would like my boobs so much.

I didn't know I would rely on my husband to take care of me so much.

I didn't know how protective of her I would feel.

I didn't know how little I would care about things that used to take up so much of my time.

I didn't know that her cry could instantly make me do the same.

I didn't know how annoyed I would feel at my husband for doing something like, coughing, when she was trying to sleep.

I didn't know that there would be days where I would be the only one that could console her. Or play with her. Or hold her for more than 10 minutes.

I didn't know she could consider 30 minutes a good night's sleep.

I didn't know that she would cause me to not want another.

I didn't know how important my mommy friendships would become.

I didn't know how much I would look forward to my weekdays alone with her.

I didn't know I would ever co-sleep. Or use a sleep positioner. Or a blanket in her bassinet.

I didn't know how little the birth experience matters in the long run.

I didn't know I would get a look of 'congratulations on joining the club' from every older woman I pass in the store.

I didn't know how hungry I would be while breastfeeding.

I didn't know it would literally take me all morning to leave the house.

I didn't know I could cry just thinking about how wonderful, beautiful and important she is to me.