This is a Good Baby™

Holy cow, does she travel well. She slept in her sling the whole flight to Detroit, woke up and worked the room while we had our layover, then slept the way to Norfolk. She's had some near-meltdowns at the reunion, absolutely insisting that she be held constantly. But since no one had met her yet, it wasn't hard to convince la familia to do so.

She slept from 10 am to 3 yesterday, then from about 4 to 8 or so. We speculate it's a combination of a growth spurt and overload. I wonder what Vegas will bring.

She doesn't do her Joe Cocker imitation anymore. I used to prop her up on a pillow in the morning and watch her flail spasmodically, now she's becoming more fluid. She still can't *quite* get the thumb-in-mouth routine down, but it's getting better. She also hasn't decided if it'll be thumb, pinky and ring finger, first finger and middle, or some other combination. Or left versus right. It's making me crazy.

Man, oh, man, though, do people get a kick out of her. She does this monologue when she's really on, a whole routine that she's worked out, with this great timing. You can tell she's put a lot of thought into it, worked on it until it was just right, like Carson. I keep meaning to get one on tape. We were driving back from my grandmother's the other night and the whole trip, about 15 minutes, she went on and on about her day, told us all the things she'd seen and done, and you could tell she'd really had a great time. She's really big on "agoooooo" with lots of spit.

Welcome to the rest of your life

Today was my last day of work. From now on, until I either can't stand it or need the money, I am a SAHM. I am freaking out.

I don't know how to do this. I mean, the general mothering, the feeding, changing, shushing, etc., that I know how to do. But I don't know anyone with kids Perp's age, I don't know our neighbors, and I don't think they have any interest in us. I signed up with Meetup.com but have yet to have a meeting actually happen. I don't know how to remain sane with no one to commiserate with me.

I went to the Family Resource Center's drop-in last week and met some mamas there, but they all have older kids, toddlers and up. I went to the Mother's Milk meeting at the hospital and was the only one to show up. That was ok, the lactation consultants fondled Perp and we had a great time with them, but it's not chilling with other mamas, you know? I'm going to the Mama Gathering in Mpls next month with a friend, and I hope to meet some local mamas, but it sounds like a big group, so odds may not be in my favor.

Anyone have any suggestions?

I also don't know how to deal with the money issues. Husband totally supports my staying home with P. He grew up with a SAHM, so he has warm fuzzies about it, and that's great, but despite how much I wanted to do this, I still have this dark little corner in my mind that whispers, "You're totally dependent on someone now. You won't have your own money and this isn't a fair exchange. You get to be at home and sleep in (ed: HA!)and he has to work and what you're doing isn't as valuable as bringing home a paycheck." I *know* that's not true. This culture, though, I think--know--it sends a double message. On the one hand, you're seen as a better mother if you stay home, OTOH, your worth is tied up in how much you produce, how much you make, you know? And what I produce these days is milk. Of course, another view is that you're a better mother if you work and have professionals take care of your kids, because they know how to do this.

What's a girl to do?

Beware the boobage

I was at the grocery store today, and had Perp in her plastic tub in the shopping cart (whoever designed those pop-put carseat/base systems deserves a Nobel prize). She got fussy and seemed hungry, so I took her out and proceeded to nurse her, as I always do, whenever and wherever necessary. The woman ahead of me in line had been chatting away quite pleasantly, but as soon as she realized what I was about to do, she turned away and concentrated on reading the ingredient list of all her items. What is it about breastfeeding that freaks so many people out?

No one blinks when a mother whips out a bottle to quiet a crying child, so why, when I can do it discreetly AND it shuts Perp up quite nicely, is it so horrifying for me to feed her? Note: I've had several people come up to admire her, only to realize after they tried to pry her head off my breast, that she was eating, so it's not like I show 'em off to the world. Those days are over, sorry. You should've known me when I was 22.