some biting remarks...

Teeth. You brush them. You bare them. You show them off. You chomp and grind and grit them. You pulverize food into an unrecognizable pulp with them, just so you can fill your belly.

You use them to hold things, to open things…and yes, to bite. Most of the biting most of us do as adults, is directly related to eating or accidents. You know, you accidentally bite your tongue, your lip, the inside of your cheek.

But we’ve had our teeth for years and we’re used to them. They’re part of us. We know how to keep them clean—even if we don’t do a good job of it. For many of us, the pain of getting teeth is so far removed from our memories it’s difficult to understand what our children go through.

So, in an effort to help us understand what they are dealing with, they’ve taken to biting us. That’s right. We are under attack. From our babies.

I’ll give you an example. Jaxon is almost a year old. He officially has 3 make that 4 teeth. These are fairly new pieces of “technology” to him and he is rapidly learning how best to use them through much trial and error…mainly on my arm. What started off as slobbery, open-mouthed kisses on my arm or leg have officially turned into full-on oral assaults to my epidermis.

And I have the whelps and bruises to prove it.

The worst part is, when I tell him no, he gives a slight giggle. Like he thinks it’s funny. Great.

Oh, I know. He thinks he’s winning. But I will not be ground to a powdery dust by the technological advances of my 11 month old.

It’s two things, really. First of all, they’re new and he wants to see what they can do. I mean, it’s human nature. You get new clothes, you wanna show them off. You learn some new information, you wanna use it. Secondly, it hurts. Not only are there permanent (well, semi-permanent) foreign objects in his mouth that didn’t used to be there, but they bring with them a world of pain. How is a soon-to-be-toddler supposed to ignore that?

Back in the day, I would’ve been told to rub some whiskey on his gums. That’ll do the trick. And probably turn him into an alcoholic…just kidding. Now we would consider that a definite wrong thing to do. So instead, we give them cold, malleable things to chew on. We give them toys and try to keep them distracted. We give them homeopathic remedies and man-made medicines. All in an effort to help them through this phase in their life, hopefully giving them some relief and rest. And hopefully us, too.

So our goal is to get through it, sanity intact and free of lacerations and combat wounds. Their goal is to enter the world of the non-pureed, mashed-to-a-paste omnivore. It seems their goal is much more easily attainable than ours. Could it be that we are destined to be on the losing team? The universe can’t be that fiendish. Could it?

We start off as rebellious little arm-biters, gnawing on everything in sight. But slowly, through the years we become complacent. We have assembly-line education keeping us coloring inside the lines, societal norms and regulations streaming into our brains via technology, and the pressures of becoming a “success” in a world full of adults who’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a kid. And we suddenly find ourselves on the front lines. But on the other side.  Ironic, isn’t it? Maybe the universe is brutal, cold, and calculating. Or maybe it’s just the cycle of life.

still nursing? why,yes...yes, i am...

funny thing about this post...i actually started to write it 3 months ago. but i only got as far as the title.
gee, i must've been real dedicated to it. nope. i guess it just wasn't meant to be written at that time.

so here we are now, 3 months later and Jax is officially an 11 month ol--what??? did i just say 11 MONTHS?!?!? yep. that's right. he is. hard to believe, i know. but it's true.

so, he's 11 months old, and yes, we are still nursing. the boy eats solid food ~ 4 times a day. he has 2 teeth and i think he's working on a 3rd. but yes, we are still nursing. much to the surprise of some of those around us. 

before Jaxon was born, i had a goal in mind of nursing till he was a year, because i had been told that was what was best, and i AM the good little girl who *usually* follows the rules and advice like this. but with all the troubles we had in the beginning, i thought nursing was something that just wasn't going to happen.

then i went through a phase where i hated that i was doing it and wished i had just gone the "easier" route and done formula, because then ANYone (read: baby daddy) could get up with Jax the multiple times in one night to feed him. and this sentiment would trade off with one where i felt proud to be nursing my Jax because i knew that's what's best for him.  and i decided i was going to make it to 6 months and see what happened. 6 months...i could do that.

i vascillated between these two mindsets constantly and have been over the last few months. and it's because Jax is a mover. he doesn't sit still often, and that doesn't change when he nurses. sometimes i call it "violent", but i'm not sure if that's the right word for it. maybe "vigorous" is a better term. it's not like you can just fall asleep while he nurses. not a chance. i have had to bounce or rock him sometimes. other times i've had to hold his hand because he's hitting or scratching me or pulling on my shirt. and other times, he's pushing his feet up against the chair and making us both move. sometimes, it's ALL of these things...and that just makes it unpleasant for me.  it makes me feel trapped.

it was during one of these moments of indecisiveness that i realized that i HAD to continue to nurse him unless he WAS going to be a formula baby. i don't know, it felt like some sort of epiphany. if i stopped at 9 months, he had to switch to formula--which i didn't see him doing easily. so, it's like i no longer had an option. and once again, i felt trapped. and, to be clear, formula is not something i wanted to do. it's not that i thought it was "wrong" or like i was trying to be "snooty". it's just not something we, as parents, wanted for Jax. we wanted to give him what we considered the best possible start in life. and to us, that meant nursing.

but the best possible start in life at the expense of a mother who feels trapped? does that lead to resentment? yes. irritability? yes. fatigue? yes. all of these. and so much more that you probably can't even put in words.

but i kept at it. and, amazingly, i am still going. it's like now i can see the finish line. and if i've made it this far, why not keep on keepin on? he's healthy. we've definitely bonded. i look down at him and he looks up at me and it makes me cry. it's such a strong emotional bond between the two of us. he's totally and completely in love with me. and i am with him as well.

even though there's been this constant back and forth, i think if i had to do it all over again, i would still nurse. i would still set my goal for a year. it's possible i would still go back and forth on how i feel about the whole thing, but i would still do it. it's what's best, right?

**remind me i said this if i ever have another child. it would have to be easier the second time around, right?