The Breastfeeding Nazis are alive and well in Halifax. At our local children's hospital, "breast is best" posters and literature plaster the halls and the rooms. Public health prenatal classes are heavy on the benefits of breastfeeding as well as the supposed disadvantages of feeding babies formula.  During one class we actually had the nurse tell us the story of one poor mother who spent the first six weeks of her baby's life trying in vain to breastfeed unsuccessfully to the point that she was awake pretty much 24/7, in tears all the time, exhausted and wiped out. "But she didn't give up!" the nurse crowed, like it was a good thing. I decided right then that I would try breastfeeding, but if it didn't work out, I'd have no problem switching to formula. No way were my child and I going to suffer for weeks, too stubborn to switch to formula or even to supplement with it. I know breastfeeding is hard for a lot of women and impossible for many and I made a vow to not get upset if it wasn't the right choice for us.

To be honest (and this is going to make me sound like the shittiest parent alive), I was mostly interested in breastfeeding because it's free. That's right. It wasn't about the bonding experience, the antibodies and nutrition Eli would be getting from my milk, the baby weight I'd supposedly lose much more quickly if I nursed - I was excited about the prospect of not having an addition to our grocery bill. Feel free to call child services.

I anticipated nursing to be painful, torturous, and unsuccessful. I fully expected us to be feeding our baby formula just a few short days in. In a pleasant (albeit slightly painful) turn of events, Eli took to it right away and as soon as my milk "came in" he's been nursing exclusively.

Add breastfeeding to the list of Things I Never Thought I'd Do In A Million Years. I have never pictured myself with a baby hanging off my boob. I've never really even thought they were functional, and I always thought the act itself was kind of gross and too hippie for me.

Breastfeeding isn't a picnic. It hurts - especially in the beginning as you're getting the hang of it. Even once you've got the technique down it still isn't super fun to have a small human attempting to suck all of your innards out through your nips. Add a few leaks and occasionally feeling like a dairy cow into the mix and that more or less sums it up.

But it's not terrible either. I like having some quiet time with Eli (you can't scream if your mouth's full of boob, after all.) He makes the most adorable faces when he's eating and I want to take pictures of him but, yanno, TIT. So I don't. I suppose I could edit over them with, like, Wal-Mart smiley faces, but I have better things to do with my 10 minutes of free time per day than crop my boobs out of photos.

This is definitely not meant to be a "breast is best" post. Whatever works for you is best. If your baby is thriving on formula, give 'er! A good formula experience is definitely better than a bad breast experience. If breastfeeding is a success, that's great too. If breastfeeding is a success but you hate doing it, there's no shame in switching to bottles. The most important thing is that baby's getting enough to eat and you are maintaining some level of sanity getting him there. I've already told Eli that as soon as he gets teeth, he can kiss these mammaries goodbye. (Yeah, I know, if they have a proper latch they don't bite you - this is not a chance I'm willing to take).

Seven paragraphs talking about my boobs. Internet, you're welcome. Here are some non-tata related pictures of the boy from today to make up for all the boob talk.  I'm sorry. Next Monday won't be so awkward.





*In an effort to not get too-too babylicious up in hurr, I'm going to be dedicating Monday's posts from now on to all things mamahood. Surely once a week isn't too much to brag about my handsome honey badger and wax poetic on being a new mama. And if it is, don't come around on Mondays! Piece of cake!

Confession: I'm not a fan of the telephone. I think the phone is truly a genius invention. In a way, I think it's cooler than the Internet. The fact that you can communicate in real time, via voice, with someone on the opposite side of the world is pretty fascinating to me. When you really think about it, doesn't it seem almost more advanced than sending an email or an IM? You can actually LISTEN TO someone ten million miles away--hoooo, doggies!

While I appreciate the functionality of the phone, I hate phones pretty much in general. It starts with the ring. It's disruptive and rude. I get scared every time my phone rings--EVERY TIME. It startles me. Changing up the ringtone to a favourite song or a less jarring noise doesn't help. No matter what I'm doing, the sound of the phone ringing is frightening.

After I get over the initial shock of the noise, there's a gross apprehensive feeling that follows. Who could that be and what could they want? I always assume the worst. Who calls with good news or just to chat these days? No one, that's who. It's either somebody calling to tell you something horrible has happening, or to ask for something. Both scenarios suck. The lesson here = avoid answering the phone.

Caller ID is both the best and worst thing to happen to the telephone. Screening calls is something I do all day long. It's kind of snotty though, huh? If I try to call someone and it rings through to voicemail, I worry that my call is being screened, too. I have to remember that not everyone is as rude as I am.

I hate talking on the phone. I hate marathon phone calls. I will call you to make plans...this is where we're meeting and this is the time. That's all the phone is good for. This is why we have email...so we can have a "paper trail" and also use cute emoticons ;) People worry that the "tone" of emails can be misinterpreted, i.e. something that's meant as a joke can be construed wrongly in writing. I think that if you're literate, that's not an issue. Texting is also a preferred method of communication for quick changes in plans, reminders of things to pick up at the store, and so on, but texting can get pretty onerous too, when you go back and forth 15 times to figure out what movie you're going to, for example. People need to learn to do things like HANG OUT FACE TO FACE! and make plans.

Example situation: You're meeting your pally-wally for lunch and you don't know where to go.

Do you...

a) Call him/her to get the deets and get sucked into an hour-long phone conversation about how his/her significant other is a douchebag and American Idol results
b) Text him/her and get a chain of messages similar to "Where do u want 2 eat?" "I dunno, u?" "Could do either Subway or Quiznos" "Which Subway?" "Robie St by theatre" "Huh?" "the one where Jimmy works" "I don't have my car" ET CETERA for fucking eternity...
c) Call him/her, say "Let's meet at (insert central location) and go from there" HANG UP the phone and only text to let him/her know if you'll be late?

A and B are very real dangers and happen all too frequently thanks to that ball and chain called the telephone. Serious buzzkill situations.

I admit there are some kickass phones available. H2B got an iPhone recently and that thing will do everything for you except wipe your ass. The apps are amazing. Camera phones are handy particularly in police-ish situations, and it can be entertaining when you're in a public place and some middle-aged woman's Akon ringtone starts blaring. It's true, phones aren't all bad. But I like my phone best when it's silent.