Boobies

So I spent this weekend being a "single mom".

The husband went to Atlanta on Saturday morning and ran in their half marathon yesterday and is making his way home as we speak.

Why did I let him do this? Because he enjoys it and it makes him happy and its only once a year. It was also relatively inexpensive as he stayed with a friend and really only paid for airfare and food. And of course I now have something to hold over his head when he bitches and moans that I want to go out. So that's that.

I did okay on my own. Michael and I grocery shopped and tried to nap and did other weekend stuff. Saturday afternoon we went down to Bubbie and Poppie's house and they hung out with Michael while I went out for dinner with my brother, sister and her boyfriend. Sunday afternoon we went to Grammie's and hung out and had dinner.

And while I'm glad that my husband went and did his run and had a good weekend, I am desperately waiting for him to get home. I know some people love their alone time and love to just be with them self, but I feel like it took L and I a really long time to find each other and I don't want to not be together. Everyone needs their alone time and I'm good with some alone time, but, you know.

So it seems we have a very smart and opinionated little man on our hands. As previously discussed, Michael and I didn't ease into breast feeding as smoothly as some. It has been rocky and somewhat (very) frustrating for all involved. One day last week Michael randomly decided that he was not going to nurse. Screamed and wouldn't go near my boob. He'd take the breast milk from a bottle, but not from me. I was reassured to know he was eating, but was emotional about the fact that he wouldn't nurse. We kept trying and about 8 hours later he was back at the boob. He's been nursing since, but fighting it, making it a quite stressful situation for us both. Last night he was up every two hours to eat. By 6am we were both exhausted, my boobs hurt, he wouldn't latch on and was clearly very hungry. So at 7am I defrosted some milk as fast as I could, threw it in a bottle, sat down and he chowed. And as he gulped down the milk, he looked me in the eye and we both kind of went "Ahhh". Nipple confusion? My son isn't confused. He is smart and opinionated and knows what he wants. When this first started last week I was torn. Part of me felt guilty because I was able to produce milk and breastfeed but really didn't want to and this was really what I wanted all along. But part of me was really, really upset and emotional about the fact that he didn't want his meals from me anymore. I've never been in love with breastfeeding, but I cried and cried when he first refused me. But this morning when he *literally* turned his nose at my boob, and we had that epiphany moment with the bottle, I really felt okay with it all. As I read on a mommy blog that I follow ~ Formula won't kill your kid, and breast milk won't make him fly. My son was breast feed for 8 full weeks and had his first bottle of formula this morning. I'll continue to pump for as long as I can, so that way he can still get breast milk, but we'll start introducing formula as well. And you know what? I don't feel like a bad mother.