Movin' and groovin'

My blog used to be so much more funny when I was working and trying to kill time and amuse myself by writing about all the nutcases (myself included) out and about in "corporate" Montreal. What a laugh. For some reason, it's hard for me to take anything seriously about Montreal. I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just the vibe of the place that everyone would rather be out at a bar instead of running businesses or maintaining infrastructure or what have you. It's like it's always 4:30 pm on a Friday in Montreal- that time when people are still technically on the job but they are eying the clock and cleaning up their desk and about to get the hell out and have a drink.

Toward the end of living there, it was starting to drive me nuts, but now I kind of miss it.

I am hell of ready for spring. We are moving again. Yep. After less than a year of moving across a province with a 6 month old, we are doing it again in April with a 14 month old. It's good though. 2 bedroom, dishwasher, renovated, one of those cool red lamps in the bathroom like they have at some hotels...they had me at dishwasher to be honest. Gawd I hate washing dishes. The only thing I hate more than washing dishes in drying them. P'tooey.

So we will have to endure another few weeks of box hell with all the packing and unpacking crap, but ultimately (she said hopefully, thinking: for jeebus sake, let this place work out for us) it's for the common good of our wee family. Feel free to send us good vibes on that issue.

The sky is white, the ground is covered with wet snow and the rain/mist is freezing. Quite gross and really, I am done with winter. I want to see sidewalk, sun and hatless, scarfless people. Are you feelin' me?

In Leon news. He's learned to hug and it's probably the cutest damn thing I have ever seen in my life.



T gave me a hug yesterday and Leon watched then hugged himself. Then we gave him his elephant and he hugged him/her. Totally awesome. I wish I could get him to dance more too. He's very particular about what makes him throw his hands in the air and bounce on his knees and sing:laa la laa laaa. Sometimes it's a snippet of classical music on the radio, sometimes it's Elvis Costello and often it's the theme song for Passe Partout.

I was never one for dancing, but I am so going to instill a morning mom and son dance freak-out as soon as he is into it. Then, when he's 13 and wants to barf at the thought that he even has a mom because it's so lame man, I will chase him around and shout: C'mon son! Let's have a dance freak-out like we used to! and he'll shout back: MOM! GROSS!(or the future vernacular equivalent) and run to his room and slam the door. Then I'll ask him through his door if he remembers when I was potty training him and would say: Potty time, excellent- like a play on the Wayne's World theme and he'll say: what the hell is Wayne's World?

Who knows, maybe he will be one of those kids that is so genuinely cool, he will never lose his taste for being silly. I wish I could say that I had been one of those kids, but I most certainly was not. The awkward teenage angst is practically gushing like blood from an open artery when you look at the photographs taken of me back then. Poor me and poor anyone who had to deal with me!

Well. Leon is with the grandparents for the afternoon, but he'll be home soon and dinner must be concocted, so a few more Elvis Costello videos on youtube and then back to being a parent.

Nursing: A tribute.

I know a lot of people, don't "get" breastfeeding. I didn't before I started either.

I remember, in the early days of breastfeeding, I thought I would feel victorious when I finally made it to the "finish line". At first, I thought it would be miraculous to make it to 6 months. Around 3 months, I started having so much trouble with supply and felt like if I managed to breastfeed him for one more day, it was the best I could hope for. I lived day by day like that for a few weeks and it got easier and worked better and I made it to 6 months and then 7 months. Around 8 months, it started getting difficult again, one side stopped working, the other side was painful as all hell, but I kept going and low and behold I found myself at 10 months. It seems funny to me now, that I never thought I would make it that far.

Around this time, Leon started to nurse for less time and even started dropping a feeding here and there. I went with the flow and ended up at 11 months, down to only one feeding at night. I held on to that feeding longer than he really showed interest in it because I realized, now that I'd come all this way, the end of breastfeeding didn't really seem like the end of a race or a challenge anymore. It had become my way of life with Leon and a really important part of our relationship. The bond is not something you can explain in words, or at least, I can't do it justice.

When I finally reached the point where I knew nursing was soon to end, it felt so sad to look down at him and think: this could be the last time ever this will happen. Some women go on to nurse for years, most, in north america stop before 4 months... every woman has her own story and experience. I wasn't expecting to feel so sad. I thought I would feel more like I had attained a goal, but having done it for x amount of time ended up being meaningless. What mattered was the feeling of having such a close tie to Leon growing up. What mattered was how much of myself I gave to him. Everything I went through was worth it.

I see him eating food with his own hands now and wanting to break out on his own. He's just going to keep growing and learning and it's exciting and amazing to think about, but also, I already miss him being just a little baby Leon. I know, I'll feel like this for the rest of my days. Each new milestone will be a mix of pride and sadness at letting go.

About a week before his first birthday, we nursed for the last time. He hasn't asked for it since. I would have relented if he had. I still would. I miss it. Sometimes, I wonder if I should have tried to keep it going, but I guess it felt like standing outside of school for his first day and not letting go of his hand as he pulled away to go see what was in store for him. I don't know if every woman has such melancholy. My nursing mentor said it was very common to go through all the stages of grief about it. No one ever told me about that. Not that it would have changed me wanting to nurse, but maybe I would have been more mindful while it was happening.

I miss nursing. I am grieving. At the same time though, I am really proud of myself for having done my best job. I don't think I've ever been as devoted and steadfast about anything else in my life. I can see why some women don't want to do it, it can be really tough. I can also see why some women do it for years. It's an amazing and deeply moving shared experience in giving and receiving care between a mother and child. Nursing is food, it's closeness, it's comfort... It's a profound experience to be able to provide all of those things to your child in such a basic way.

I feel lucky to have had this experience and I will save it in my heart and mind as a special part of Leon's infancy. So here I go Leon, letting go just a little bit, but only the act of nursing is lost. All of the love behind it is still here and overflowing and that will never stop.