Patience. It’s something I’ve never really had much of. Now all of a sudden I need it in droves. Because to be a parent, I’ve come to find out, you essentially need two things — patience and effort.
The thing that’s trying my patience recently is my super distracted 4 month old. I guess at 4 months you realize that the world is actually kind of cool and there’s lots of stuff to do besides just eat, poop, and sleep. This means everything blows your mind. It’s super hilarious and fun to watch, but in terms of breastfeeding, might be the worst thing ever. Little E has decided that breastfeeding is perhaps the most boring thing in the world and he’d much rather do a complete backbend to look at that lamp. Or that picture. Or the cat. Or that miniscule spot on the empty wall. Or perhaps I’ll just shoot mom an adorable smile and talk to her for a bit. So, what does all this distraction mean for me? Pain and torture, friends. Pain and torture.
OMGOMGOMG! That camera and this pumpkin are so sweet, mom!!!
Each one of those backbends means my boob gets mangled. Plus, my stress level goes through the roof because my kid isn’t actually eating. And considering I’m only responsible for a very few things at this point in regards to my child (food, sleep, and comfort), when I can’t seem to do one well, I get a little crazy. Yes son, your mom is a little edgy and Type A, and if you keep eating for 30 seconds at a time, she might just lose it completely. Ok, not just might. I did actually lose it completely. I collapsed into a crying heap on Sunday after baby mealtime included not just backbends but angry thrashing because I wouldn’t let him JUST GET DOWN AND DO WHAT HE WANTED. I thought that kind of crap didn’t start until at least 6 months or something, but apparently I was super wrong. Because toys and playing need to happen right now, mom. Eating is boring and dumb.
Well kid, I’m sorry, but I want you to have gloriously chunky thighs. And the only way we accomplish this goal is for you to eat.
So, in a panic I called my dear friend the lactation consultant. The first thing she did was laugh. The second thing she did was tell me that this was going to be my life now. Her suggestions to fix our little distraction problem? Lock yourself in a super quiet room and don’t let anyone in. Wear a “nursing necklace.” Feed him and then feed him again in 10 minutes when maybe he’s ready for another 2 minute sesh. Or just feed him right after a nap when he’s groggy and hasn’t quite realized the wall is super cool again. Most importantly, she said, have patience.
I can tell you right now that all of this is not what I wanted to hear. Especially that part about patience.
Sadly, I guess, the days are gone when I could stop his crying or make him feel better with a nice, fancy meal anywhere and everywhere he desired. Instead, I get to confine us to dark room with blank walls 300 times a day and wear a necklace with little knitted rainbow balls. It most certainly looks nothing like this:
Breastfeeding is so glam.
Did any of you, dear dozen readers, have a super distracted baby? How did you handle it?
