Yes, we call them boobs at our house. Or boobies. Either is perfectly acceptable. When my daughter wants to nurse I ask, "do you want some boob?" If she's crying my husband will tell her, "go have some boob. Do you need some boobie?" L. is learning the sign for milk and I'm pretty sure she thinks it means boobie. They are one and the same--completely interchangeable.
Over the last twenty-four hours, L. has nursed constantly and I feel like one giant boob. One giant, exhausted, dehydrated boob. Me, myself, and my boobs are all one--completely interchangeable. I'm not L.'s mom, I'm her favorite boob.
L. is fussy and slightly feverish and the only cure is boob. She's in pain and the only comfort is boob. She can't sleep and the only solution is boob. When it comes down to it, I'm glad I have boobs. I'm trying to relish the time and the closeness, the sweet cuddling, her sweet baby smell.
On the other hand I have a headache and I wish my husband was a big boob too. That way I could get some sleep (not that he's sleeping much either with L. and I thrashing around to make sure each boob get equal use).
As a giant boob, I've realized that teething is serious business. L. got her two bottom front teeth during the last week of June. She was fussy for a day and then the teeth were through and she was back to normal. She wears an amber teething necklace and we've never really done much more for teething. She has a few things she likes to chew on but it hasn't really been a big deal. I figured this whole teething business would be a piece of cake.
I was so wrong. About a month ago, I lost her amber teething necklace and we spent one week on the border between insanity and hell. L. was fussy, clinging, and whining...not at all herself and not much fun. I felt horrible because I could not make her happy. We bought a new necklace and she improved quickly. I felt like a good mom. I made her feel better. Yay me!
Last week she started acting fussy. I could not figure out what was wrong. She was well rested, she had a clean diaper, she wasn't hungry, she had toys to play with, we went outside, and did all her favorite things. Nothing worked.
It took me a really long time to figure out that four of her top teeth are coming in all at once (it was actually embarrassing how long it took me).
We've been cycling through solutions: tylenol, homeopathic teething pills, frozen chew things, cold wash rags, ice water. You name it, we've probably tried it (note: feel free to post suggestions). Things eased up for a few days but now we're back at it. Her two incisors appear to be through the gums and her two front teeth are almost there.
Last night and this morning she's just been crying. She'll be perfectly fine, playing and smiling, and then she'll start screaming for no apparent reason. Sometimes I can do something that helps, sometimes I can't, and sometimes she just screams.
I feel like a good mom, I feel like a bad mom, I feel like a giant boob. I'm convinced they are empty. Can there really be anything left in there after the last twenty-four hours?
I've realized it doesn't really matter. At this point in the teething game I think I (really my boobs) are more of a comfort than a food source.
Thank goodness we learned early on how to nurse lying down in bed. Now I just need to learn how to drink water lying down in bed. That way even when I feel like a boob, I won't be a dehydrated, exhausted boob.
If I'm going to be a giant boob, I'd prefer to be a well hydrated, perky boob.