I remember going to English Group in Boeblingen with the twins during that first year. You girls remember, the year AFTER the twins when EVERYONE in the group had a baby.
|July 2006, Making it look easy!|
One baby would cry and everyone would groan as their milk letdown.
Me? I could feed an army after 8PM when the baby has gone to sleep and I'm sitting downstairs relaxing with a cuppa - or something else I SHOULDN'T REALLY be having, like the leftover Margaritas from Christmas. Feet up, legs curled up under me on the sofa... and a good book. That's what works for me.
Some other interesting notes on boobies I have rediscovered over the past four (has it really been FOUR?) months
1. Men really don't look further down past the boobies to your ass if your boobs are big enough. Yay boobies. Great camouflage for post-partum fat-ass. (Although I still don't know why I get this since I have been reassured by many pregnancy books that I don't actually carry the babies in my rear end!)
2. If your husband has told you he WASN'T really a boob man anyway, because you were a size A after two years in the Peace Corps, you will never actually know the truth until you turn into a DD after breastfeeding twins. "Boobies." No dear. Those AREN'T for you. Remember, you aren't really a boob man anyway, right?! And the time to show an interest is NOT at the end of the day when another man (or two) has been attached to them for the majority of the day. To be sure, it's a bittersweet breast enhancement all-around. After nursing five children, they aren't the boobies he fell in love with all those years ago anyway.
|August 2006 at Europa Park. Yup, that's two at once under there!|
(A corollary here, for those of you worrying that you are too fat. When I came back from two years in the Peace Corps in Haiti, so proud of myself that I was FINALLY a size 6, and around 130 pounds/60 kgs, none of my male friends who hadn't seen me in two years were all that impressed with the weight loss. I'll never forget the disappointment on Dan's face when I met him at the bar in Stamford. "But, but, but, where are the boobies?" Spoken a BIT more discretely. Note: you aren't as fat as you think you are. And noone else wants to see you as skinny as you want to see yourself!)
3. Men stop looking at your face and focus on your boobs when they are babes at the breast. HELLO IAN! Mommy's face it UP HERE! North of the where the milk comes from.
|Ian, January 2012. Working out the logistics.|
On the other hand. Not everyone IS looking at your boobs as much as you think they are. News alert Christine: you are not as central to everyone else's lives as you think you are! I have managed to walk through Horseland, buying Ryan's Christmas presents, with one boob entirely exposed before the sales lady at the counter discretely pointed out to me that I MIGHT like to close up my nursing bra BEFORE heading out into the real world again!
This explains the numerous ladies I have spotted at the shops with their boobs hanging out trying to make it through Woolies before the baby wakes up.
And kudos to Lawnton's LOTE (Language Other Than English, in this case German and Mandarin) teacher, MALE LOTE teacher, who actually WAS speaking to my face a few months ago when I noticed that my front was undone.
Nothing sexier than a man who actually IS focusing on what you are saying! (I was trying to rope him into a Lawnton School Writers' Group I have floating around in my mind.)
It's a short time though, the time when your world revolves around your boobs as food source.
|January 2012, Movie World, Gold Coast, Australia|
After all, a mother DOES have other roles.
There's the cleaning, the shopping and the prepping for school. (Which starts tomorrow, YAY school!)
So that rather than focusing on the boobs, I've decided to nickname Ian and myself after ANOTHER role vital during that first year of infancy - carrying.
On the days that I don't feel like a permanent food dispenser, I feel like the robotic sidekick that MegaMind has designed to carry his pet fish around.
|Minion and Dad at Dicky Beach, Caloundra, Australia|
Minion. That's us. With Ian propped up in front of me, face out, commanding me with flailing arms and shrieks of joy to show him the world he can't quite reach on his own yet. (Although he's trying. Giving Andrew a run for his money on first to crawl. ALMOST has it, working eerily methodically on mastering the coordination required.)
At least carrying him around like that covers the booby I've probably forgotten to tuck away again!