no swimsuits: the beach, part two

Our first day at The Beach happened to be a Sunday, so we didn't mind that it was also pretty chilly and not ideal for swimming and sun bathing anyway. We had fun going down to the ocean in our sweats and just hanging out, listening to the waves and walking in the sand.

But first, we drove there. We drove through the night so the kids could sleep, and it worked out really well. (I say that because John pretty much drove the entire way while I slept off and on.)

Here's a view of our backseat that next morning as we neared The Beach.

And here is a view of a typical diaper change en route. Front seat of the car, Pearl doing her best maneuvers to escape so she can do something more fun than have her diaper changed. It is pretty funny.

Coming down through the canyon toward the ocean that morning there was some pretty fog on the mountains.

Have I mentioned that this whole Beach thing is a camping trip? No? Well, it is. We stay at a lovely campground right near the ocean-- it takes about 2 minutes to walk down to the water. Upon leaving the campground you have to cross under the highway (by way of this highly scenic underpass) and then there you are, at the beach (not The Beach, because the spot that we go to is a few minutes further).

This is what it looks like right when you get there:

And then if you walk up a bit higher you see the area that we hang out at. Just a little past the lifeguard tower and then down (obviously) is The Beach.

Ah, blessed double jogger, one of the best investments we have ever made. It has been with us on many adventures and it was so nice to have it to haul all our stuff to and from The Beach in every day. It also was where Pearl could take naps so we didn't have to go back to the tent. Here we are with our happy stroller, testing it out on the sand that first day.

Georgie got out and threw his first rock out into the water. I still don't quite understand the appeal of chucking rocks into the ocean, but it could entertain him for hours.

This little buddy of mine is the best. I just love him. He is at an age where I am constantly thinking about what his memories are going to be of these moments in his life and am so aware that it is my job to create experiences for him that he can look back on with gratitude and happiness. I hope The Beach will be like that for him.

After throwing rocks for a bit we headed up over to our section of Beach by way of this little dirt trail. Doesn't it look dreamy?

That sandy patch of beach on the right is our spot.

And the trail got a little muddy, and the sun decided to hide, and my girl wanted some cuddles. If there is one thing that has The Beach beat for "dreamy" it is getting loves from my squishy baby. Obsessed might actually be a better word.

While I cuddled (and nursed) our Peach (this girl is going to have an identity crisis with all of the variations of "Pea__" that we call her), the boys went off to explore.

And when they got back, there I was, still nursing the babe at the top of the stairs. George came up to say hello.

And then I found that I didn't like sitting there so close to a bunch of garbage cans, so I moved down a few steps. And Pea still nursed.

Pearl fell asleep and some more of the family was arriving, so we headed back to the campground. Grandma and Grandpa arrived (with Lisa and Logan), and Grandma spent some time reading stories to the boys.

I am positive that one day (probably soon) George and his cousin Logan will be best buddies. They are only four months apart, and Logan is George's only cousin so far, so they are destined to be tight. But it is somewhat comical to referee their tenuous relationship at this stage. Logan likes to eagerly drag (literally, sometimes) George along with him to "play," and George is not always super receptive to these "invitations." Lisa can often be heard reminding Logan to "invite George," but then let him make his own decision. It is funny. These pictures make me laugh because they totally show what it is like. Here is Logan, all best buddy and in George's space and George is like, "Dude, I just want to walk somewhere by myself, not be dragged there." Hysterical.

Ah, there we go. Some smiles. George and Logan actually often have lots of fun together and I am glad they have each other.

Here are a couple more campground shots from that first day. Baby Pea playing in Grandma and Grandpa's tent trailer, and my three amigos roasting marshmallows.

Next up there will be swimsuits! Any you will be happy because the best shots include a 10 month old chub :).

becoming the mother

(a little practice we did of Pea's outfit for Christmas Sunday :))

As I find my way through motherhood I am learning that I am the kind of mom that is okay with my babies needing me a few times through the night. I have discovered that I don't expect or need them to sleep all night long when they are little. It is sort of a joy to spend those dark minutes cuddled up in the rocking chair together. I was much more regimented and scheduled with George, and though it was awesome that he was sleeping through the night at 5 months, I am learning that I am not that mother any more. I still had a lot of school teacher in me right after he was born :).

John teases me that I spoil Pearl more than I did George, but the truth is really that I am just figuring out what feels right for ME, as a mother, trusting those things, and moving forward.

It feels more right to me to nurse my baby when she cries at night rather than let her cry it out. It feels more right to me to give her extra cuddles and reassurance when she is clingy rather than get impatient and frustrated that she won't "just go to sleep." I don't feel like I need to make excuses for these things or feel guilty for them-- I feel like I am finding myself as a mother more and more, and I am so grateful to be figuring out what works best in my home, with my children.

I remember feeling so completely conflicted and burdened at the thought of letting George cry it out. So many people told me it was a necessary part of parenting at that stage. (Though I am realizing right now that my own mother was one who told me the opposite-- and I cannot for the life of me remember why I didn't just listen to her.) I believed them, and though things turned out just fine (and I was really grateful that he was such a good sleeper), I cannot get over the peace that comes from following my mother-heart. It feels like freedom, to be honest.

Along those lines, I just came back into my room from nursing Pearl to sleep. For the THIRD time tonight (it is only 9:12). Not sure what is going on with her right now. I'm hoping and praying it will be a short-lived phase because it gets a little more difficult to be upbeat and grateful when you are needed 7 times throughout the night :). Her need clearly isn't nourishment (have you seen those thighs lately?), but I am actually pretty happy to still be nursing her a few times throughout the night. I REALLY want to keep my milk supply up and continue to get her as many of her calories through breastmilk as possible. Nursing is like an addictive drug to me. I love it so much.

Other things I could be addicted to?

Pregnancy. Childbirth. Babies.

I know I sound like a ridiculous, stereo-typical baby-making machine, but really, I can't help myself. I didn't know I would be like this (though I could have expected it-- the two women I admire most in the world honored pregnancy, childbirth, and having children as sacred and miraculous and the greatest blessing in their lives), and I surprise myself sometimes when I get that feeling of wanting to add another baby to our family. I almost want to talk myself out of it. Pearl is only 9 months, it is too soon! It took me SO long to feel ready for baby #2, but baby #3? I was ready months ago.

This isn't an announcement, and I don't plan on being pregnant any time soon. I am just sharing some thoughts. I just really love being pregnant. And I really love giving birth. And I really love breastfeeding. And I feel like the window of time in my life that I get to do/be those things is so small in comparison to everything else and I want to squeeze and wring every last drop out of it all.

This wasn't the post that I sat down to write tonight, but it just kind of happened. I guess the point is that I am feeling really grateful to be a mother, to have the opportunity to discover what being a mother means for me, specifically, and to be surrounded by so many good mothers who have taught me the essence of mothering. I feel really humbled and thankful.

Here are a few pictures of my littlest. I just love her so. (I just realized that all of these pictures were taken in the same spot-- the deliciously soft and delightful rug in her room (we call it our "plush piece of heaven" and can often be found hanging out there). There must be good light in her room or something, I didn't realize that I gravitate there to snap photos.

These next four pictures are taken one right after another of Pearl discovering her headband, discovering she doesn't like it, and pulling it off.

And then I put her down to sleep and was most impressed by the crazy wave that her funny hair was doing so I snapped a picture. Goodnight!

a personal revelation

This picture has nothing to do with this post other than the fact that it is of Baby G and me.

When you read the post you will be grateful that I didn't post a picture that matched the subject.

I love it when Baby G runs his little fingers through my hair like he is in this picture, though.

***I wrote this post quite sometime ago, but never published it, so when it says Baby G is seventeen months old you should know that that is not the truth. But everything else is still the truth. :)

So this post has been brewing in my head for weeks now. I haven't been sure how to approach this topic because I know that there are many people (probably most) who won't share my opinions on the matter. For that reason I want to make this disclaimer: please don't be offended by what you read. My thoughts are in no way a judgment about anybody's choices that may be different than mine. I am merely trying to explain why I do what I do, but it is so okay with me that you might do it differently. This is what has worked for us, but this is such a personal matter and I would be completely out of line to think for one second that the same thing should work for you, too. I won't judge you if you won't judge me. Fair? :)

Okay, so here is the deal: Baby G is 17 months old and I am still breastfeeding him. He nurses in the morning when he wakes up, in the afternoon before his nap, and at bedtime.

I think I might be in love with nursing. I am positive that Baby G is in love with it.

That's not to say it has always been that way. My first weeks of nursing Baby G were at least 100 times harder and more painful than his actual delivery. Some of those days are kind of a blur now, but I can tell you that they involved many tubes of Lanolin, a prescription of Newman's Cream, at least two heads of cold cabbage (to keep from getting too dry and cracked between feedings), pumping to try to get my milk to let down for literally hours (my milk had come in, but the colostrum was preventing it from coming out), plenty of tears in the bathtub, a blessing from my husband, and definitely some thoughts of giving in to the formula. I knew I wanted to nurse my baby in theory, but in reality it was so hard at first that a bottle became an attractive option. I tried not to get too overwhelmed by the struggles because I knew that if we could just get through them I would be so, soo grateful.

17 months later and I can say that my choice to stick with breastfeeding has been one of the best decisions I have made for me and my baby. For us it has provided some blessings that I know we would not have had otherwise. Let me share a few.

Baby G adores going to bed. When he is tired he will go get his blankie and then come grab my hand to drag me to the rocking chair in his room. Nursing is so clearly something that makes him want to go to bed. He knows that for 20 minutes or so I will sit with him and sing him songs and tell him stories while he nurses. And breastfeeding makes him so delirious that putting him to bed is a breeze.

The money we have saved because we have never had to buy formula and bottle paraphernalia is at least in the high hundreds, if not thousands of dollars. When it was Baby G's sole source of nourishment, breastfeeding was a way that I felt like I was contributing to our meager budget and I would walk down the baby aisle in stores and breathe a sigh of relief that diapers were the only things I would be picking up on that expensive little shelf.

Baby G is a lover. Of course some of his cuddliness is just part of his nature, but I really do believe that being cuddled in my arms for at least an hour a day, even as he got older and much more wiggly, contributed to his propensity to just lay down and give squeezes to whoever is holding him. He is constantly hugging his daddy and me, and I am so glad that he got used to being held and loved while I nursed him, and that we've been able to continue it for so long.

Aside from the time the doctors thought he had leukemia (note the sarcasm), Baby G has never been really sick. He has had a few colds, and been feverish a couple of times, but his short 17 months have been completely free of any major illness. Again, we could just be getting lucky, but I believe breastfeeding has something to do with it. This quote from the FDAs website sums it up nicely:

"Breast-fed babies have fewer illnesses because human milk transfers to the infant a mother's antibodies to disease. About 80 percent of the cells in breast milk are macrophages, cells that kill bacteria, fungi and viruses. Breast-fed babies are protected, in varying degrees, from a number of illnesses… Furthermore, mothers produce antibodies to whatever disease is present in their environment, making their milk custom-designed to fight the diseases their babies are exposed to as well."

I am positive I would have loved Baby G just as much as I do had I not nursed him, but I do believe there is a special bond that comes with your child when you share something as intimate as breastfeeding. There is a sweet connection that comes with knowing that I am the only person in this whole world who can provide that perfect nourishment for him.

Occasionally I struggle to get the exact amount of necessary fruits, vegetables, proteins, etc. in Baby G every day. I really try hard to provide balanced nutrition at all his meals, but some days he just doesn't want to eat his peas. On days like that I feel grateful that I am still giving him those added vitamins and nutrients when he breastfeeds. I want him to be healthy so much and continuing to breastfeed is one way that I try to accomplish that.

Let's be honest, when he was younger breastfeeding was also a really great excuse to take some time to sit down and relax or politely excuse myself from situations that I didn't want to be in. It was time to do the dishes? "Oh, look at the time! Baby G needs to nurse! I'll be upstairs."

Of course there are times that it isn't convenient to nurse (though I think the convenience of those middle-of-the-night nursing feedings vs. the hassle of having to make and warm bottles totally makes up for it). Of course there have been things that I have missed because I couldn't leave my baby behind. Of course it is a time commitment. I still have not left Baby G overnight because I need to be there when he wakes up. (But so you don't think I am completely crazy you should know that I can—and do—let my husband put Baby G to sleep when I can't be there, and my mom can put the baby down for a nap if she needs to, but those are pretty rare occasions.) For the most part, the choice I have made to nurse—and continue to nurse—my baby has also been a choice to not leave him often. They are kind of a package deal. And while there are times that it is a hassle to not just be able to leave whenever I want, I believe there will be plenty of time to leave him when he is older. These months I have with him while he is still little enough to nurse are so fleeting. I can't believe how quickly his little 17 months of life have passed by, and before I know it he will be having slumber parties at his grandma's house and will have no need for me to be there when he goes to bed. So I am going to continue to pass up nights away from him for the time being and continue to marvel that my body had the ability to not only provide my baby with life, but also to sustain him for so long. I only have a few months left.

But tell me about you now. Did/do/will you breastfeed? For how long?

Do you think I am completely crazy for nursing my baby for this long?

Do you think I am completely crazy for wanting to nurse my baby until he is (gasp) 24 months old? Because my brothers totally do. If they read this post they will be highly embarrassed and ashamed :).