You, Me, and Booby Makes Three

Ah the joys of breastfeeding. I don’t know that I’ve ever cared about anyone enough to sacrifice this much of my personal space or to willingly offer up a body part for spontaneous encroachment. Yet here I am. One meal at a time.

Yes Fiona, what’s that you say? You’d like second breakfast? Will that be right booby or left? Very good. Careful not to bruise it there dumpling.

I pointed out to Mark that we were saving money with this feeding method. He said, where once he had to wine and dine these suckers, now they’re saving us money. That is if you put the Similac money away for college.

Yes Fiona, what’s that? You are ready for your pre-lunch snack? Would you like a little truffle oil on that nipple? Maybe followed by an apéritif of booby? Excellent choice.

Fiona’s Favorite book : Good Night Boob

Fiona’s Favorite songs: It’s a Booby Kinda Love

Fiona’s Favorite Word: Boobaliciuos

Fiona’s Favorite Movie: What About Boob

Fiona’s Favorite Drink: Booby straight up with a twist

Nothing can mess with your mind more than the thought of keeping something dear to you alive with a bodily emission you have no control over. This caused a train wreck with my attempt to booby feed my first child.

What’s that Fiona? More booby juice? Did you say please?

But once you, and  your family (read 8-year-old), get over the “ewess-ness” of the deed, you can all relax and lead a semi-normal life. My friend said she saw a mom at the Orlando Universal theme park with a baby hanging off her booby. Everybody’s doing it.

For the record, my boobies are retiring their service before 2014. And hopefully the booby juice will make Fiona super smart and give her the ability to pick nice boyfriends. Ooh, gotta go. The Divine Ms. Fi would like her nightcap now.

Pretty in Pink

My sister came to town to be present during the birth of the baby.

And she brought with her an Amaryllis ready to bloom.

She said she couldn’t bear to miss the flower’s grand finale as well.

As it had not bloomed in two years, she didn’t remember the color.

On the day the baby was born, we found we had a daughter named Fiona.

And the Amaryllis bloomed in the most subtle lovely shade of pink.

Beast Of My Love

Before my little love love was born, this song popped into my head. Theme song? And so I thought I’d offer it up for your listening pleasure while you read my babble below.

My friend Kathy called me a couple of days before I gave birth to Fiona and was swell enough to entertain my personal brain for a few minutes. The one that thinks about creative endeavors. The one who has a blog and wants to grow that and herself and a writing career. SHE INDULGED ME. And avoided talking baby stuff.

Now we’re on the other side. Fiona’s been here for 10 days and is hanging onto my body right now. By her lips. She may even have a soiled diaper.

I will truly try to not do baby-baby-all-the-time talk because it would drive me bonkers if I were you. But some stuff, it’s too cool or weird or funny not to share.

The wee Fiona was a hefty 8.5 lbs when she popped out of me. Then the pediatrician wanted to worry me she’d lost too much weight and told me to cup feed her. I’d seen it once and it’s weird. Reminds me that we are all beasties first. And most Mama’s do what love requires of us no matter what it takes.