Mini Super Hero

I'm feeling just a little bit super-hero today, after not just making it through the past week and a half, but actually scoring some pretty satisfying personal and professional achievements along the way.

First, the professional ones: I made it through an extremely busy, full week of work last week, planning 'til my head hurt and cranking out pages and pages of PR work. Felt fantastic to be valued as an integral member of the team. All that work culminated in three successful events yesterday (hello, media blitz!), and a personal wish from the Governor to have a safe trip home from Philly. Nice touch.

On a personal level, not only did I succeed each day last week in pumping enough milk for Chicken's following day, but I raised the pumping bar on Monday. Two pumps at work before departing for Philly, then two pumps in the car on the turnpike. My hooter hider (super hero cape for the nursing mom?) covered up the hands-free arrangement beautifully, and although output was a little lower yesterday afternoon (since I couldn't massage the girls while pumping), I made it home safe and sound with a cooler of milk for the following day.

And, knock on wood, we may be out of the biting woods. Last week was tough, because Cayden bit me just about every time I offered him the boob: when I got home from work, before bed, first thing in the morning. I tried a number of tricks: reacting, not reacting; walking away from him, sternly scolding him. Never resorted to nose flicking, but I gave it my all otherwise. I started to doubt myself and became very frustrated with Cayden, knowing he couldn't understand the pressure and stress he put on me, but resenting him a little bit for it, nonetheless. I mean, here I was, trying everything under the sun to make pumping easier for me so I can continue to provide for him. Then when I got home and could take advantage of the beautiful and natural way nursing is supposed to happen, my son's repeated bites just made me sad and angry.

I don't know what happened, but suddenly Saturday morning, Cayden stopped biting. Hasn't bit me since Friday, and oh how I love nursing him again. Win-win, here.

We also loved our weekend away, which brought its own small victories. Planning and packing mindfully enough that we didn't forget anything we couldn't fix on the fly. OK, so we forgot Chicken's ENTIRE COOLER OF FOOD, but we found a supermarket and resorted to organic store-bought jars in a pinch. I succeeded in holding it together as the only Mama to bring her baby to Erin's baby shower on Saturday, perhaps even looking graceful doing it, at times.

Balancing on five-inch heels while bouncing a 24-pound baby slung to my hip? You bet I can.

Lactivist I am not, but we did opt to enjoy the entire shower using the Hooter Hider, rather than sneak away to another room to nurse. That was the first time I breastfed in front of a group of people that included gals I didn't know (outside BF group, where support is kind of inherent) and that could have included some people uncomfortable with nursing in public. But Erin is planning to breastfeed, so I figured I'd go ahead and make my mini-statement. My baby was fed, and I got to explain my present as Erin opened it. Double score.

We also celebrated the small victory of travelling just over two hours in a car, without so much as a single cry on the way to D.C. Cayden's patience ran out sooner on the way home, but it's amazing what a calming effect Mama moving to the back seat and plying the baby with apple pieces and mango puffs has.

So there it is, the past week-plus that inspired some gratifying "yeah, I can juggle it all" confidence.

OK, so my floors did NOT get cleaned this past week, but I'm ok with that. Because a full, rich life is all about striking a balance among work, family and friends. And sometimes chores have to be put on the back burner to enjoy the important stuff.

Now, if only I could convince Chicken to sleep in past 6:30 a.m. on Thursday, so I could perhaps catch up on sleep myself.