Mad hard, yo.

Here's something no one tells you, or at least no one told me. Breastfeeding is hard. Or as my sister would say, Breastfeeding is mad hard, yo.

No one told me this. You would think if nature intended this and it is natural and all that jazz, that it would not be difficult. But it is. Mad difficult, yo.

Getting him to latch on was hard. So hard that now, three and a half weeks later, we are just getting the hang of it without the use of plastic thingys that aide him in latching on.

Certainly I know that he is indeed getting what he needs, because at his two week check up where they look for them to be back at their birth weight, my Beaner was a half pound bigger than he was at birth.

And its not even the mechanics of breastfeeding that is hard. Waking up every three hours at night is hard. Being bound to your child every two to three hours during the day is hard. Knowing that your husband wishes he could help and more actively participate is hard. Telling him there is absolutely nothing he can do, is hard.

And then when you are ready to pump, there's bottles. Holy crap there's a lot of different kinds of bottles. And they not cheap, yo. Which one will he like? Which one is most "real"?

Now, all of that said, I wouldn't not breastfeed. As I've been told on many occasions, I'm very lucky that I'm able to breastfeed exclusively. And I know that "breast is best", as they say. It is natural, nothing is manufactured, nothing can be exactly reproduced.

My son is breastfeed, and I am glad for that and know that he will, probably, benefit from it. I'm just saying its hard. Mad hard.

Poop

L went back to work today, so Michael, Rex, Penny and I slept and watched TV and we changed a lot of diapers. (By *we* here I really mean me) We also pee on the wall (only once!!), drank a lot of milk and did a lot of pooping. (By *we* here I really mean Michael) But then there's this, so its okay.

Yesterday I:

drove my car for the first time in nearly two weeks.

had *real* sushi for the first time in nearly nine months. (Yummm Alaska roll)

went to Stew Leonard's for the first time in nearly three weeks.

fed my baby nine times.

slept for four and a half hours at one time. (cause my kid's cool like that)

changed my son's outfit four times because his pee can penetrate through just about anything.

stroked his hand as he clutched my finger while he ate each of those nine times.

still, nearly two weeks later, tried to grasp that this is my son. I am his mother.

I still don't think it has sunk in.

Idols

I can't wait for the day when American Idol does a heartfelt story about one of the contestants and they come out sounding like a dying cat, rather than sounding awesome like they do every single time.

All these seasons and it is the same format over and over. So predictable.

There will never be another William Hung.