Toddler Breastfeeding

Toddlers, tandem, and everyday nursing


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A near miss

Being self employed, and after going through multiple insurance premium rate hikes, we decided to give up the insurance game. The only times any of us has seen doctors has been during my pregnancies and deliveries (all normal routine checkups). Ironically, none of those visits were covered by our policy. For a short while we kept up our pediatrician visits as a self paying patient, but there was no value gained by keeping those visits. In fact, they posed potential harm depending on what nurse we happened to have and their knowledge of breastfeeding and infant nutrition. When Chase was little, a nurse tried to scare me into introducing rice cereal, otherwise he wouldn't get enough iron she said. Which is simply, not correct. In fact, the best source of iron for breast fed babies is breast milk. So when another nurse mentioned introducing solids to Desmond at 4 months old, that was the last straw. The WHO recommends exclusive breastfeeding for at least 6 months.

Moving on. If you've been following along with my adventures in becoming a breast milk donor and my difficulties finding a phlebotomist to do the blood draw then you'll understand how my heart hit the floor when the Mother's Milk rep told me about the physician forms requirement. For most people, getting a form signed by a physician is a trip to the doc's office. For me, it would mean a whole lot of time and money and a potential epic fail.

Finding a doctor now would be a wild mess. The first question from the receptionist is not "What can we do for you?" but "What insurance do you have?" And "I don't have insurance" is not a popular answer. Finding a doctor that would be willing to check a box for me and recommend me (and my son) as a healthy breast milk donor would be quite an undertaking. Who knows what hoops they would want me to go through and how much they would charge me. Thankfully, about a week after learning about the physician requirement, Mother's Milk Coop has dropped the physician document requirement! Hurray! They are testing my blood, which to me is a more solid vetting tool than a physician.


On Getting Real

Well Hi There!

I'm speaking in a syrupy sweet Southern drawl when I say that and it'll be funnier to you, maybe, if that's the voice you read it in. I don't actually talk like that...unless I'm drunk, angry, running a con, or got pulled over by the Po-po. I do, however, have legitimate claim to the accent. I am Southern, belle or otherwise. I hail from the swamp lands of Western Tennessee, land of Elvis, artists, and hot bed of racial tension. That last one is part of the reason I no longer live there. That and my family lives there, though my father's dead, and he was the one I wanted to get away from most.

So the style of this blog will mostly be stream of consciousness, at least for's what I have time for. I needed a place to do high stakes stream-o's because I'm a bit of an exhibitionist and this journaling, writing 1000 words a day is a whole lot more fun if there's a possibility someone might see my thong. Kidding. Sort of. I'm a writer, bona fide with paid work for years and several poems and articles published and everything, though none lately as I've been preoccupied with raising my beautiful little youngun, and she has consumed me, body, mind and spirit. Literally. I breast fed her til she was three, and the only reason I stopped then was because I came down with Strep and Pneumonia at the same time and just didn't have the strength to feed her big appetite for what is apparently the best tasting thing in the whole damned world. I'm a wee bit on the hippie side, for a short way of explaining my reasons, though that term isn't really accurate either as i tend to absolutely hate "hippies." But I wear very little makeup, eat lots of plants, and prefer my food as close to original design as possible. And I don't use soap or deoderant, but you'd never know it. I don't smell. Believe me I'd know, cause I ask and I have some of the most brutally honest friends in the world...ahem, Connie and Kara stand out most prominently in the saying it like it is. i believe I actually even got kara to smell my pits one time. LOL, good thing I'm using no last names here, huh, Hellige? :)

Anyway, so now my angel is in Kindergarten and I finally have a chance to finish some of the projects I've started and stalled over the last five years, and even start new ones! I'll need a place to work out, so to speak, though. The title is so true as I'm on a quest to uncover the real me and for various reasons I'm not really sure who that is. Take the Southern accent for example. I used to talk with one humdinger of an accent. It wasn't the sweet, slow drawl of an Atlanta Belle, but the twangy slang-filled drawl of a farm girl who grew up running barefoot, sucking the nectar out of honeysuckle and climbing trees...when she didn't have chores, that is.

For various reasons I'll probably get to later, i ended up on my own at 16 and at that point who I was became a matter of survival. I won't say that I was completely fake, because I was still most definitely myself, but I, we'll call it, that improved my chances of having someone buy me a car or pay my rent. Judge not. Finding a way to survive with no work experience and no support, well, you just try it. My options were to find a man to take care of me, dance in a strip club, become a whore, or become a con. I did work in a strip club for 3 days, but as a waitress, not a dancer. Let me tell you, the money was unbelievable. I just couldn't deal with the environment and the creeps...and the fact that it was something I felt ashamed of, though, now I think it's all a matter of perspective. Anyway, for the life I wanted, I didn't think sounding like a country hick would get me there, so I pymalioned myself and taught myself to speak more like Boston than Baton Rouge. Damned if it didn't work. Folks who had laughed at my opinions before suddenly gave what I said merit. It was weird. I discovered something similar with the way I dressed. I discovered that the way I dressed had a huge impact on the way people treated me and so i learned to dress for not just occasions, but for genre's. I was still me, but I took on more and more "accessories" to the point that 16 years later, I'm no longer sure who is who.

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