warning: there may be some foul language here, but it’s for emphasis. also, talk of boobs and pottying….by me.

so apparently, ezra has sensed my intense longing for another baby and decided to flip the script on me. dude is nursing like A FREAKING NEWBORN. i’m talking all day and all night long. my nipples are more sore than they’ve ever been, and it’s like this kid has a radar for my boobs if they’re anywhere near his height or area. for instance, i went to the bathroom today and he was playing nicely in his little play area. no sooner did i get my butt to the seat when i hear him yelling at me. i turn around to see dude signing milk so furiously, he can barely make the fist fast enough. i leaned down to kiss his forehead while telling him that he needed to wait, and being the sweet little angel that he is, do you know what he did? took my really cute target shirt that was already stretchy and pulled that shiz down so hard, it almost ripped. he then proceeded to wrangle my boob out of my nursing tank and latch on while GRUNTING like a man that just took his first sip of a beer after a long day at work. i love peeing while leaning over and nursing your toddler, such a grand time, right??

maybe he knows that soon, i’ll be pregnant so he’s getting his nursing in now before the milk dries up? i plan on nursing ezra through the next pregnancy, whenever that may be. i’m going to pretend that that’s why he’s upped the nursing. no, it’s not because he’s about to make a developmental leap or he’s going through a growth spurt! it’s because he knows i’m about to get pregnant (just pretend you agree, mkay)!!! such a smart cookie, that one is.

whatever the reason for his increased nursing, my nipples are KILLING ME. i’m not kidding when i tell you that they never, EVER hurt like this with henry or ezra. i’m definitely blessed in that department: i really didn’t encounter any pain while nursing either of the boys. with ezra, we had to use a shield for the first two weeks because i had a forceful letdown, but we weaned off of that and have been stellar ever since. so this immense pain SUCKS. lanolin is working wonders, and i’m hoping it gets better soon. it’s not bad enough that i have to deny him the right breast (which is really the one that’s in actual pain), but it’s not very comfortable. and with the amount that he’s nursing, my poor nipple doesn’t ever get a rest! man, i would NOT want to be my right nipple right now.

on a lighter note: henry asked if we could give ezra up for adoption because he was hurting my boobs. when he realized we wouldn’t see ezra anymore and that he’d live somewhere else, he changed his mind. but it was sweet that he wanted to off his younger brother for torturing my tatas. i wonder what he thinks adoption actually is. i forgot to ask because ezra was running at me, mouth open, ready to latch on like the piranha that he’s become. literally, every time i get on the floor that baby is coming for me, all walking like a drunken heathen with his mouth open and aimed at my boob. it’s like constantly having a vacuum chase you around the house, without even the benefit of cleaning up the floors! this is an actual picture of ezra coming at me with his crazy-eyed nursing face on.

anyway, i’ve actually gotten him to sleep and maneuvered myself away from his body in order to write this. i’m taking the rest of the night to read and snuggle with the papa on the couch. i miss him a lot lately. he’s been really busy at the office, and at night i usually fall asleep with the kids. papa will leave the bedroom once henry falls asleep and watch some television, but i’m usually out for the count. so tonight, i’m hanging out with the love of my life. okay, i’ll try to but i’m really tired, man.

i love that picture. i miss that feeling, of having a life growing inside of me. of having created new life with someone you love. i miss it so much. i miss feeling baby kick, and roll around. i miss seeing my bump when i look down. i miss feeling like i’m doing something so amazing, feeling this connection with this little being, and no one else but me gets to have that with him. i miss seeing my bump grow, and picking out names, and rubbing my belly. i miss seeing adam’s face when the whole bump moves from one side to the other, like a wave rolling into the shore. i miss hearing him tell my belly, “i love you baby, this is your daddy.”

it’s all i think about. it’s in my dreams. it’s all around me everyday. at target, every woman is pregnant. when i get on my beloved instagram, i see another ultrasound picture held by another baby. i log onto facebook, and someone has posted a picture of their clever pregnancy announcement (check out pinterest for those, because MAN there are some cute ways to do it). every single day, someone else i know announces their pregnancy. and with every “congratulations” i utter, a piece of my heart breaks off and falls into the black hole that has become my hopes and dreams.

no portland. no baby. nothing.

i’ve always been someone that becomes irate in the face of inequality. when the crack addict gets pregnant, but the wonderfully kind and compassionate lover of all things is deemed infertile. when someone that doesn’t want to have another baby yet gets pregnant, and i sit looking at another test with only one line. why? why is it that some people get everything that they pray for, and others get nothing they ask for? i’ll never understand.

ezra is 14 months old. obviously, because my luteal phase isn’t long enough, i didn’t get pregnant this month. so my dream of having my babies two years apart is down the toilet. i would’ve liked them closer than two years apart, but that was never an option. i know that my luteal phase defect is due to the fact that i’m still nursing ezra. so i’m constantly torn between two choices: wean ezra so i can get pregnant, or wait and let him self-wean. what if i am one of the few women that can’t get pregnant when they’re nursing at all? what if that’s the only thing i can do to get pregnant again? what an awful tug of war i have going on in my soul right now. my nursing relationship with ezra is something sacred, it’s something i treasure now and will forever look back on with fondness and love. i don’t want to stop nursing him, and it feels like to take away something he loves so dearly just so i can have another baby would be a selfish decision. ezra still IS a baby.

i keep hearing people say that it’s all in God’s plan for us, that we will have more babies but it may not be on my timeline. but why can’t he sync our calendars?? we’re in a good place right now financially, and both adam and i are so ready for number three. we want five or six kids, and at this rate, i won’t be having the last baby until i’m freaking 50. my biological clock is ticking, and apparently God and i haven’t set our watches to one another’s alarms. but he doesn’t have an alarm or a clock. nothing is too big for him to accomplish, regardless of age or time or circumstances, so i guess maybe it’s my watch i need to throw out.

i want to trust. i want to have faith. but it’s hard when you pray for things, good things that will be best for our family (not another baby, other things), and they never come to pass. maybe i’m just hurting so badly, feeling so discouraged and hopeless, that i can’t see the forest for the trees. i don’t know anything anymore. all i know is that my hopes and dreams are starting to fade into the darkness of that black hole, and they’re dragging down my will to create new ones.

maybe that’s a good thing. you can’t get disappointed if you don’t hope for anything.

Then, the kidney stone showed up!

My stone baby was a whopping five centimeters and was stuck in a duct, making me feel like I was trying to push a REAL baby out of a vein. I would’ve gladly given birth to five real babies naturally if it meant that I’d never have to feel the pain that a kidney stone brings EVER AGAIN. I was in the hospital for one day, and they went in and actually surgically removed the stone because the surrounding tissue was so swollen and irritated, the doctor feared that if he busted it up, the pieces wouldn’t flush out. This all happened in one, 24-hour period, and the pain came on so suddenly, I was brought to my knees. I went to the walk-in, thinking it was a UTI (which I have a history of having), but a urinalysis was saying I didn’t. The doctor at the walk-in thought it sounded like a kidney stone, so he gave me some 800 mg ibuprofen and sent me on my way.

Two hours later, I was vomiting to the point of dry heaving, and we knew it was time to go to the ER.

Poor Ezra. See, Ezra has never had a bottle. Ever. So when Adam tried to give him one of my pumped milk, he pointed at it and laughed….then spit on it. Okay, not really, but he was not down at all. For my entire stay, my baby refused my milk in a bottle. I pumped at the hospital after my surgery, and as soon as I got home (late at night), I slid into bed and woke him up. He was upset upon waking, but when he realized mama was there (eyes still closed, by the way)? He nursed for what seemed like an hour straight. Baby boy just gulped and gulped like it was his last nursing session ever. My heart melted into a puddle, and it felt like the day he was born, all over again. After he was done, he couldn’t stop smiling. He’d look up at me and smile, then lay his head on my chest, over and over again. I found out later that he cried for the majority of the evening before I got home, and no one could really soothe him. That killed me, but it also made me realize how deeply we are bonded. I’m truly so attached to my babies, and even though it was rough for a day or so, I’d never change the way we parent. Attachment parenting makes our hearts joyful, and our babies happy, confident, and loving.

I didn’t put that sweet baby down for a week straight. Being away from my boys, and especially my nursing baby, physically made me even more sick than I already was. I couldn’t get back home fast enough once my surgery was over.

So the carrier giveaway is still going to happen, and I’m rounding up my giveaway loot now. I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but kidney babies are a real bitch to birth. I’m planning on blogging a lot more regularly, and a lot more honesty, so I hope you’ll stick with me. Come back tomorrow, I’ve got a great post lined up.

Anyone that knows me is well aware of my love for babywearing. I always wear Ezra. Always. We have a BOB jogging stroller, which I’ve used a handful of times for walking, but Ezra prefers to be carried and I prefer to carry him! When he was a baby, I never left him in the infant seat and put him in the cart at the grocery store. Who would want to be in a hard, plastic bucket for hours at a time when they could be held close to their mother’s heart and warmth (not to mention her boobs)? I have two kids, and I honestly do not find it easier to lug around a huge car seat in lieu of wearing Ezra in my ring sling or wrap. To each his own, but that was just my logic. Plus, wearing your baby helps your breastfeeding relationship. Did you know that? Yep! Pretty cool, huh?

So this week, I’ll be doing a giveaway of A REALLY AWESOME CARRIER that you want to have in your babywearing arsenal. Trust me. Come back later for that.

I also wanted to tell you all about my wonderful friend Rebecca, the author of Mod N Natural. Rebecca is not only a cloth diapering guru, but she’s knowledgeable about all things attachment parenting and natural parenting. I value her opinion, heed her advice, and truly adore everything about her. Please go to her blog and read! Rebecca is also having a giveaway this week in celebration of International Babywearing Week, so go enter!

Bad.

Yes, I’m aware of the fact that I already have a baby. But we want lots more kids, and the thought of being pregnant into my forties just doesn’t sound appealing. I know plenty of women do it, and that’s fantastic, but I cannot count myself among their ranks. I already feel like a seventy-year old woman, what with my hemorrhoids, arthritic texting wrist, and bum knee.

I also want the rest of our clan to be a lot closer together in age. I waited a very long time to get pregnant again. Now, I’m regretting that decision. The boys get along famously, and Henry is a better big brother than I could have ever fathomed. But seeing other people that have lots of little ones running around together? It makes me so sad that I didn’t give that experience to Henry.

So, you’re probably thinking, “well, if you want another kid, get pregnant you whiny sad sack.”. If only I could! See, I’m not one of the lucky ones that can breastfeed their baby for three years but get their period back at only six weeks postpartum (never in my life did I think I’d find myself WANTING my period to show up). And you know what else makes me feel like the unluckiest person ever (no, not the hemorrhoids)? Every single mama I know that blogs, or uses Instagram, or passes me randomly on the street, got pregnant while nursing their current baby, without ever having their period return. Oh, and they’ve got a six-month old on their hip while they’re telling me how they’re so excited to be pregnant again. And four more kids at home all under the age of five. WHY CAN’T THAT BE ME??I’m wise enough to know that if our family is meant to add another babe to the brood now, it will happen. We know that we want at least five, maybe six. Maybe enough to have our own soccer team. If that takes us longer than I’d like, then so be it. Ezra is such a gigantic blessing, and if for some reason unbeknownst to me he needs more time to be the baby of the house, who am I to try and alter the course this ship is headed in? I mean, look at that sweet boy:

But I can’t lie: it hurts every single time yet another mama with a baby Ezra’s age announces she’s baking another one. So if you’re the next to tell me, know that I’ll literally be green with envy, but excited for you all the same. If I say something like, “already? Geez, didn’t you just have one?” it’s just my pain talking to you. If I punch you directly in the jaw, that’s just my pain talking, too. Okay, I won’t punch you, but I may kick you as you walk away.

so i’ve gotten quite a few requests for my favorite etsy stores, and i’m going to give you some of that list today. i’ve had nothing but great experiences with EVERY seller i’ve ever dealt with on etsy, but i only have so much time to write. in fact, ezra is losing his mind as i type this, probably because i’m sitting eight feet away form him and papa is holding him, not me. now, i’m nursing ezra on my lap while typing up this post. good thing i love this little man more than my own life. i’ve decided to make this a weekly thing, so next monday, i’ll feature more of my favorite stores (don’t hold me to that, i’m known to be flaky with my blog).

1. yoginix – heart to heart, useful art

these magnets are so cute! and they’re so well-made, with a lot of care going into the construction. becky, the owner, has lots of different sets of themed magnets. she’s got the cutest set with owls on them, and she even has a set of “dexter” magnets! um, that kicks ace! not only does her store have adorable magnets, but she also carries other cute knick-knacks for the home. becky is such a kind soul, and she loves making these for people to adore. she surprised me with a set that had pictures of the boys on them, and it made me cry. she has such a good heart, and that’s why i patronize her store. i’d buy dirt from her if she sold it.

2. Rosemary’s Cuppa

this is my dear friend abra’s store. i found abra through her blog, got to know her better through IG, and now i think that she might be the most adorable human on earth. she has two beautiful daughters, and i swoon over them on a daily basis. please go read her blog, better than cupcakes, because it is oh-so-wonderful. anyway, she makes beautiful skirts for little girls that will make you want to either a.) be five again, or b.) have a little girl if you don’t already. she’s so kind, and so very well-spoken, and she’s also got great style. her two girls have some stellar style as well, no doubt handed down from their wonderful mama. not only does she have skirts for sweet little ladies, she has vintage duds for us older little ladies (that makes us sound older, not younger, and shorter, so remind me not to use that phrase again).

3. ilivetocreate jewelry and cards

okay, so this jewelry? you’re going to want all of it. literally. Michelle has adorable cards, too. but i’m partial to her sweet vintage necklaces. she has a pair of aqua filigree earrings in the store right now that are calling.my.name. i met this sweet lady on instagram, and she is just about as sweet as they come. once i saw her jewelry, i was just blown away. sweet as pie AND amazingly creative and crafty? she’s like a unicorn disguised as a person. michelle is one of those people you want to call your friend.

4. city light photography

diana, the owner of city light, also has an amazing blog, our city lights, which you need to check out. in her store, you’ll find notecards and postcards adorned with the beautiful pictures she takes. and when i say they’re beautiful, i mean it. they have this vintage feel to them (think i like vintage or something?), and they also always have a unique perspective. i love how they all kind of have a mellow vibe to them. oh, and diana has the coolest glasses i’ve ever seen. her husband writes for mcsweeney’s, too (never read it? you are soooo missing out).

5. nan lawson illustration

nan lawson draws the most amazing pictures i’ve ever seen. she draws people and things, and they’re always quirky and whimsical. i’ve been eyeing this picture she has of richie and margot from “the royal tennenbaums” for months, and i don’t think i can wait any longer: i’m totally buying it. she has another one called springtime girl that i adore, and one called hipster kiss that is too adorable for words. i could go on and on about how many great illustrations she has for sale, but you truly need to see nan’s art for yourself. but don’t blame me when you buy 14 different prints because they’re so amazing. for more information, go to nanlawson dot com.

alright, i made it through a whole post without having to stop, save it, and then just delete it because it took too long to get back to! victory is MINE! or at least it is tonight. go check out these etsy peeps, m’kay? they are way cooler than i’ll ever be, and they would love your business. and who doesn’t love a handmade gift? maybe paris hilton, but she’s a douche.

p77.mov Watch on Posterous

Just a little video of Ezra at the fountain park. He loves water. He doesn’t flinch when water pours down his face, into his eyes. He loves to splash and frolic in the water with abandon. There’s something special about my second-born. Just like there’s something special about my first.

let me give you a rundown of a typical trip to the grocery store….

i start out by getting in the least amount of clothing legally allowed, and really it’s not much because i am disgusted with my body right now and wouldn’t want to subject anyone else to the scary rolls under my armpits. well, the armpits need to be hidden anyway because they’re like faucets that have been left on. so i usually put on a light skirt and tee. i have to put the baby in even less, because i wear him and if he’s in anything more than his cloth diaper, he looks and feels like he’s running a high fever. that, and he’s sweating profusely all over the front of my shirt, making it look like my boobs are sweating when i take him out of said babywearing device.

once we’re clothed appropriately, i walk out the door with henry and ezra. i’m holding ezra, so i have to prepare myself and him for the inevitable blinding that will occur once we walk out onto the surface of the sun. i usually just squint like someone with a matured nervous system does, but ezra’s head flails around and he looks like stevie wonder while playing a particularly raucous piano solo. he almost falls out of my arms every time we walk out the door. then we reach the car. i open the back door and have to wait at least a minute to let the heat come out, or i think i would literally cook my children from the inside out. oh, and i’m already sweating like the giant sweathog that i am by this point. i never wear makeup, like, ever. because it’s sliding down my face by the time i put the key in the ignition. but i digress. okay, so i have to put ezra in his car seat, making sure not to let the metal parts touch his skin, or i would brand the poor kid with the orbit symbol. i get in the front seat, and have to wipe the sweat from my brow immediately. usually by now, i’m wanting to just go back inside, run for the a.c., and rip my clothes off as i run to the front door. but we have no toilet paper, food, clean clothes….so i guess i HAVE TO go. sigh. so i forge ahead like someone stranded in the desert with no other choice but to keep going. now, i’m hallucinating that in my rearview mirror, there’s a pool behind my car. i get out, run behind the car as i’m stripping naked, and the neighbor has to once again yell that “there’s no pool there, tricia. it’s just another hallucination.” they put aluminum foil on their windows for this very reason. like i said, my body SCARES PEOPLE.

once we’re in the car, i pump the a.c. like it’s my job. it actually cools down the car pretty quickly, but not before my sunglasses have completely fogged up, due to the drastic change in temperature from my freezing-ass house, to the outside world, or hell’s waiting room. i lean back in the seat, and feel my entire back becoming soaked from the sweat that was pooling on my spine and is now making it look like i shat up my back.
henry is begging for water.
ezra’s soft spot is caving in.
now we’re at the store.
the refuge of the store is great. until you realize that you’re in a grocery store during snowbird season. i have walked quickly to the cart round-up, only to wait behind 974985 sun-burnt people in Hawaiian shirts and Crocs. at this point, i want to spit fire, and i’m fairly confident that i could actually shoot fire from my eyeballs because i’ve been outside today and i know the heat had to go somewhere.

then i get what i came for, and prepare myself for the journey back home. and now, i’ve got groceries to load and unload. my husband usually finds us all naked in the deep freezer when we get home from a trip to the grocery store.

the caped crusader’s loyal sidekick. notice the very serious scary face.

protecting his cardboard box house from the evil intruders, the build-a-bear clan.

ezra having a very serious conversation with mr. teddy. negotiations were made.

ezra could not be bought. “i’m done with you, you filthy bear.”

this face. i could eat this face.

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