Explaining Breastfeeding to Siblings

With both of my pregnancies, I have become addicted to “expecting club” message boards.  These are boards where women can talk to other women who are due around the same time as they are.  The other day, a mom asked about resources to teach younger siblings about breastfeeding.  I’ll admit, I hadn’t really thought about explaining breastfeeding to Khaila before RJ was born.  To me, it was one of those things that we could talk about “when the time comes”.

I wound up not having to start the conversation, thanks to my step-mom.  While we were in the hospital, she took the reigns and spent a lot of time talking to Khaila about how RJ would be eating milk from mommy’s breast.  In addition, they used that time to talk about how babies can’t eat people food.  It was nice to see Khaila after RJ was born and it was interesting when she climbed into the bed with me and started asking if I was feeding him from my breast.  First, I had never heard her use the word breast before then, but more importantly, because she got it.  It wasn’t weird to her, she didn’t feel jealous that she didn’t get to, it seemed completely natural to her.

Sometimes, I think we try to rely too heavily on media to almost dumb down things to a level we think will be better for our kids.  While books, DVDs, and the internet all have their place in life, there are some concepts kids don’t know to question.  If you don’t know any different, you’re not going to dispute the information you’re given.  I’m glad my step-mom took the time to tell Khaila about breastfeeding.  By explaining it right before she saw it happening, she accepted breastfeeding as completely natural and right.  When we show her books or DVDs, she knows those are stories and it’s actually harder for her to grasp the concepts we’re trying to teach her.  

Now, the big problem is helping her understand that breastfeeding isn’t something the entire world needs to know I’m doing when I’m doing it.  I’m trying to be more open about feeding RJ than I was with her, but she makes it hard when asks me if I’m going to feed RJ from my breast when we’re sitting in a restaurant, at the zoo, or any other public place!

Cinnamon Mints in the Nose

This is the lesson we learned today.  If a two year old shoves a cinnamon mint up her nose, it will dissolve.  It’s pitiful to deal with in the mean time, but as the saying goes, “This too shall pass.”

This morning, on the way to the sitter’s house, I popped an Eclipse mint in my mouth.  Khaila wanted one too.  I’ve given her mints before with no problems.  We got to Millie’s and she kept pointing to her nose.  By the time we got inside, she kept saying, “Mommy, nose,” as she tried to put my finger in her nose.  Her right eye starts watering.  Nose is running, cinnamon pink snot trickling onto her upper lip.

I call the nurse line to see if I need to take her in.  While we’re waiting, Millie gets the flashlight and I lay Khaila on the kitchen table.  Look up the squirming toddler’s nostril, don’t see anything.  After about 20 minutes, I can’t wait for the nurse to call, I have to work.  I get Khaila’s coat on, walk to the car.  I’m figuring that if I show up at the clinic with a child obviously uncomfortable, obviously with something foreign shoved up her nose, maybe I’ll get better results than calling had gotten.

Right as I pick up Khaila to get her in the car seat, she sneezes.  It’s not a pretty sight, but there, right on her upper lip, sits a small oval mint.  I take Khaila back inside, tell the sitter the issue is resolved, and we both laugh.

Seriously, most parents I know have dealt with this.  On one hand, it was a mint, something small, no intervention required.  On the other hand, it was a mint, it had to burn!  The mommy in me is hoping she learned a lesson and will no longer feel the need to shove things up her nose.

Mommy Olympics

I’m sure mommy olympics have been going on as long as women have been having children, but I think it’s getting a bit out of hand with the evolution of the internet.  Before, women only had other women in their town to compare to.  Now, it’s entirely possible to be friends with women around the world who have kids the same age as your own.

When I was pregnant with Khaila, I was part of an online expecting club.  When we were pregnant, it seemed to be a race to the finish line, delivery.  Women who were due later in the month got upset about women who already had their babies talking too much about the trials of being a new mother.  Even if you were good friends with someone, there could be bitterness at hearing the news that they were on their way to the hospital.

After delivery, it became who would roll over, sit up, crawl, talk, walk, etc.  I really did enjoy my time in the group, but I have to say, I’m happier now than I was then.  If Khaila does something that no one else’s kid is doing, I don’t have to worry about it sparking fear in other women that their child may be “behind” or that they’ll be questioning if I’m full of it.

There was one incident where one tot was sent for a speech therapy evaluation.  He wasn’t talking as much as the other kids, but they were under two years old.  As much as many moms said it was normal, having been through it with their older children, this ignited panic.  At least ten other moms started to talk about demanding that their child be evaluated.  This wasn’t based on discussion with their doctors, it was based on talking to one other mom whose child was being evaluated.  Some moms were even upset that their doctors didn’t listen to the mommy-board diagnosis and send them straight to a therapist.

I thought about the group a few days ago as I was thinking about potty training.  When I originally posted about potty training on my other blog, one person commented that they weren’t even thinking about it at this age.  Briefly, I wondered if I had fallen into the “mommy olympic trap” and was trying to win the gold.  Given the signs my daughter is showing, I don’t think so.  I think I’m following the signs she is giving me and trying to be the best parent I can be.

I really hope that as time goes on, moms will realize that they need to do the best for their children in their own time.  Not every child will walk at the same time, talk at the same time, or ever have the same skills as all other children.  Ever child is still a blessing, even if they aren’t a prodigy!