Confessions of a breastfeeder - the sequel

I’ve stopped offering my breast to Naveen during the day; limited it to early morns and evenings. My baby will be one at the end of this month, heralding the close of this maternity leave.

A younger, childless friend of mine said the thought of breastfeeding a baby gave her the heebie jeebies. I got where she was coming from. It’s not something you can appreciate by imagining. It definitely falls under the understood by doing category. And even then, it’s certainly not the same for everyone. I tried to express my experience of it to her. But my words fell short. I had adverbs aplenty but was inept at stringing the thoughts together articulately enough to explain just what a wonder nursing has been for me.

Not everyone has been so lucky. I’ve known a handful of women who’ve found it difficult, painful, and even unnatural. And many who couldn’t produce enough to sustain their babies. As with so many facets of motherhood, we all experience it in unique ways and you won’t hear me preaching.

But oh indulge me. Let me tell you how it’s been over here. Let me gush. Let me get downright sentimental.

There’s nothing like the intimacy of it. I have loved a man. I have loved a dog. But loving a child has undone me. And nourishing that tiny body via my own? Well it has unravelled my carefully constructed ego. Forced me to see outside of myself. I understood again what a miracle life is, what a purpose mothering could be.

Also, it has been convenient and free.

And that it could very well be why Deaglan and Naveen took so long to sleep through the night didn’t faze me one bit. The fact that La Senza* sent me on my way empty handed did not discourage me either. I knew I’d lose the bulk once I stopped nursing. I knew I could hold off having that second or third glass of wine till the kids were eating all solids.

It doesn’t make me Mother of the Year; I’m not waiting for a pat on the back. I’m waxing nostalgic. I’m looking into my future and peeking over my shoulder. I’m inhaling the baby scent of it all because I know it will be gone in an instant. And I’m wondering if I will remember the best parts. Not the exhaustion. Not the desperate need for five minutes to myself.

But the soft intimacy with a tiny being.

The knowing of each other on a heavenly scale.

The warm sound of suckling in the dark.

The ecstasy.

*La Senza told me I'd need to go to a specialty bra shop to find something in my size.


I'm pouring my heart out with Shell.

Erin and Wes' wedding

An auspicious occassion did not fail.

The weather, the church and the golf club cooperated to make yesterday a beautiful success for my friends' wedding.

The church was ornate and spectacular with gorgeous stained glass windows and rich dark mahogany everywhere. Incidentally, Shaune's folks were married here almost 40 years ago!



I lived a charmed life for one day. My hair dresser pinned and curled my mane into an elegant up-do while Heather at the Mac counter applied some trickery to transform my face for the day.  

It didn't hurt that Erin chose a lovely chartreuse dress. She gifted us each with Swarovski chrystal earrings and a matching bracelet. And the fresh flower bouquets were delightfully fragrant and light to carry.

Thankfully the rain held off until after we were safely eating and drinking in the shelter of the reception hall. Erin was more breathtaking than usual, and her handsome husband made a dashing groom.

She was a vision in this white gown. And when she peeked her foot out, we were surprised with a pair of jewel encrusted Nine-West pumps the same colour as our dresses! Alas, I would have asked Shaune to take pictures of every detail, had I not been busy. And her necklace, also Swarovski, was nothing short of stunning.

The groom remained star-struck, in awe of his bride throughout the day. Handsome and sweet, he spent a good portion of the day hugging guests and expressing his gratitude.

We the bridesmaids giggled and groaned (high heels - enough said) our way through the day posing for pictures, enjoying a little champagne here and there, and scheming up new ways to bring the newly married couple together for a kiss.

The ceremony was mercifully short - my toes were numb by that point. If only pretty shoes were always comfortable.

Shaune the lonely date of a bridesmaid, small talked his way into new friendships until the early evening, while I giggled, groaned, posed, sipped and schemed. I also breathed a huge sigh of relief once my duties as MC came to an end!

A rare occassion for us to be out without the boys. Gramma was at home with them allowing me to relax and enjoy the day!

I've tried plucking but it was a disaster

My aesthetician is a wizard with thread. I told you about her a few years ago. Her fingers work even while she’s busy talking on Skype to her relatives in Punjab India. I should know; just this morning she was discussing the weather with her brother and niece, while shaping my eyebrows.

I didn’t mind mostly.
I’m almost always happy with her work.

I mean there was that few months last year when her cousin from back home had to take over because she had hurt her back. A few of those times I wasn’t as happy with the shape of things. But I didn’t want to give my business to someone else. How could I? She needed my money more than ever is what I figured.

And even though her cousin lacked the bedside manner (chair-side?) Suk has, I still couldn’t bring myself to find another salon. Even though a few of those times, the Cousin called me prior to my appointment and asked me to pick her up a French Vanilla Cappuccino from Tim Hortons. She was busy and hadn’t had a chance to grab a coffee yet.

I have a hard time leaving people.

One time I broke it off with a hairdresser after several bad haircuts and had to stop going to that mall altogether for a full year. I felt as if I’d betrayed her. It was depressing to avoid the mall because it’s a great place to browse during lunch hour at work. Yet I didn’t want her to see my great new hair. She would have known straight away it wasn’t her work. One time I ran into her on the street and without even being provoked, slumping my shoulders, I blurted out that I’d been sick and work was hard and a very close family member had just graduated hair school and we as a family were now getting our hair done by her as a show of support.

I think she was saw right through my lies but was kind enough to let it go.

Who knows, maybe Suk will move back to India someday. And I can find someone new. Does this happen to you?

I'm pouring my heart out with Shell.

End of maternity leave - reflections

We passed two young girls this afternoon, as I pulled the boys in the wagon.

"Your baby dropped something!" Offered the younger one. I looked back at the path we'd travelled and saw the orange bubble-making wand I'd handed Naveen to distract him twenty minutes earlier.

I don't know how long it will last but these two sit really nicely while I pull them around the neighbourhood. And now I've jinxed it.


"Thanks!" I said, picking it up. Then shaking my head I laughed while shrugging my shoulders and exclaimed "Babies!"

"They're adorable but they can be pains in the butt." agreed the older girl, who looked to be the wise old age of ten.

"Isn't that the truth," I shot back and took up the wagon's handle again.

We exchanged the goopy mixture of mud and dried leaves that was in the sandbox for some clean stuff today. Also, Naveen's hat is Rocawear as in Jay-Z. We like to keep things gangsta around here.


"Mommy, can I have a popsicle?" asked Deaglan as we began to move.

"Yup, when we get back to our house." It didn't end there but I won't bore you with the five minute preschooler-to-Mom chat that had me answering questions such as Are we back home yet? and Why can't I have a popsicle right now? and After I have a popsicle will it be night time? and Why is that dog poop on the sidewalk?

Lately Deaglan's nurturing side is in glorious plain sight. He regularly carries around a doll or stuffed animal and tends to it the way I do to Naveen.


And when we did finally get back to the house, I handed Deaglan a purple popsicle as promised and set Naveen on the grass to play. After fishing at least a quarter cup of sand out of his mouth, I took the camera out and shot these pictures.

It won't be long now. These free and easy Monday afternoons with my boys will be a thing of the past.

Sadly, his nurturing side rarely extends to his brother. As soon as Naveen reached for the popsicle, Deaglan snatched it back.


In less than a month I'll be back to work. And I know I'll be wishing that my two pains in the butt were right beside me.

I'm joining in on the prompt Sand over at The Red Dress Club.

Don't get me anything for Mother's Day

Sunday will be my fourth mother’s day. It still hasn’t quite hit me that two people will always call me Mom. And because I began my life in Bangladesh, I can’t help but know what a miracle it is that I am a mother at all. In countries like Bangladesh, women rarely have medical care during labour. Both of my boys came to us through caesarean section. I had polyhydramnios (too much amniotic fluid) both times which put me at high risk near the end of my pregnancies. Each time my doctor and midwife thought it best to safely remove the baby instead of waiting for labour to bring him out. I would have most surely lost both babies or lost my own life had I been birthing in Bangladesh.

I tell my mom stories here all the time. Being Deaglan’s and Naveen’s mother has been the single most defining role of my life. A friend once said – it is the hardest job you will ever love. And she was right.

Some days I find myself struggling. I know I’m not being a “good mom.” I don’t feel like playing with them. We don’t get outside. I’m irritated because they are not cooperating. I let them watch too much TV. I feed them easy meals that might not fit into the Canada Food Guide. And I yearn for a little time to myself.

But my moments of self-pity don’t last too long. Bangladesh is always only a thought away. I know truly how blessed I am. I told Shaune the other day to forego getting me anything. I'm always buying something for myself anyway! I asked him to sit down with Deaglan to help him with a home-made card. I still have the two bunches of flowers I received for my birthday thanks to Shaune and my friends Jennifer and Mario.

I saw this video and asked Shaune if he’d be okay if we just donated the cost of flowers and a card to mothers who don’t have it as good as I do. Even $5.00 can make a difference.

Five bucks.

And speaking of nude peep-toed pumps

The Easter Bunny brought Buzz and Woody.

I love our camera. I love blogging. But I have not been working on a back-up plan. I have not completed even one photo album of the kids. Not one! And I have not backed up my blog. Have I learned nothing? One of my resolutions (I know it's May) is to do a blog book or two. What if (I'm knocking on wood) Blogger went out of business?

I wore these out on Saturday night to Erin's bachelorette. Fun.

I love blogging. I know I already said it but I think it warrants saying again. Sometimes when I feel anxious about it, I read one of Catherine Connors' posts. She empowers me to keep going, keep telling my motherly stories, my womanly stories. If you haven't been reading her blog, you should. And while I'm at it check these blogs out too. I have been reading Jim's stuff for a few years now. Sometimes I laugh out loud (fine I'll use that acronym LOL) at his stories. He's an ex-lawyer turned stay-at-home Dad. And I just found Ameena last week. If you're looking for sentimental, sweet stories, don't go to her site. She's hilarious. And sarcastic.

Shaune's garlic shoots peeking out.

Also, I am feeling the Spring.
A little.

I'm looking forward to spending lots of time outside. Deaglan's energy level needs the open space. We start soccer next week. I can't wait till I don't have to wrestle two kids for forty minutes just to get them ready to go out.

There's been a lot of "take that off before you get into this house" going on around here.

I'm pouring my random blogger heart out with Shell today.

The graduate and his pizza recipe

I know I’ve told you that Shaune went back to school this year. I’ve likely expressed aptly that his passion lays in all things culinary. He studied at Humber College in his early twenties and then was lucky enough to work alongside some talented chefs. He gets jazzed about making things like dough and fresh tomato sauce.
For no reason.
For fun I mean.
Listen, unless there are people coming over with the sole purpose of eating and by fluke I’ve promised them food, I don’t see the point in cooking. Making something just because?

Cuckoo!

Shaune has cooked in fancy and simple kitchens; he’s managed some of those, keeping within pre-set budgets while creating wonderful food. He served tables and tended bar. He managed some of those bars too, getting jiggy with their wine lists and tightening up their menus. He ran a steak and seafood house for a few years and really learned the ways of the industry from the top down. In all that time, I’ve watched him work harder than anyone I’ve ever met with a quiet diligence that never fails to impress me.

After Toronto he moved back to Sarnia and that’s when we met. We worked at the same restaurant – he was in the kitchen, I was behind the bar. We were friends for quite some time before taking the situation to the next level. He won my heart through my stomach. To this day, our idea of a lovely evening includes eating something delightful that he happily toiled over. So when he learned about a new program Ontario teacher’s colleges were offering to people in the trades he applied. The province recognized the need for teachers specializing in trades and technologies to support those kids not planning to go to university. Here’s a link to program’s site if you’re interested.

I can’t imagine anyone more suited to teaching his passion. I have no doubt he will inspire more than a few kids.

He finished his last day of school on Friday. His parents, the kids and I bought him a stand mixer. There was champagne and a singing card. It’s a big deal, when a grown man takes a leap like this. Shows his kids that change is always possible. And that night he sat quietly and told me there was a possibility he would miss school. And I understood.

He acted just the way I would if you'd bought me a new pair of nude peep-toed pumps.

Today I asked him to share one of his recipes on this site for all of my friends. He has made this pizza twice in the last week. It’s life changing.


The Dough

½ cup of warm water (100 – 110 F)
2 tsp active dry yeast
1 tsp sugar
4-4 ½ cups white bread flour
2 tsp extra virgin olive oil
1 ¼ warm water (same temp as above)

• Combine ingredients (1/2 cup of water, yeast, and sugar) and let stand until frothy (about 15 minutes)
• In a mixing bowl (or stand mixing bowl) add 4 cups bread flour and salt
• When yeast mixture is frothy, add to flour mixture, olive oil and 1¼ warm water
• Mix until combined (if dough is still really sticky, add the remaining flour a bit at a time up to 1/2 cup) and knead for 10 minutes until smooth and elastic. If using stand mixer, use dough hook attachment on low to medium, mix until smooth and elastic and the dough comes away from bowl easily
• Form into a ball and rub with olive oil. Place in a bowl covered with plastic wrap and store in a warm place until doubled in volume
• Punch down dough and cut into four equal parts, then form those into balls
• Roll out and place each on a baking sheet sprinkled with corn meal
• Top with sauce, cheese and favourite toppings (this week he made one topped with fried onions, garlic fried mushrooms and chicken)
• Place a pizza stone in oven and preheat to 415 F
• Bake pizza on baking sheet until it can be moved around using tongs
• Slide the pizza onto the stone to crisp up the bottom and brown the top
• Slide back onto the baking sheet, then remove from oven. Let sit for five minutes before slicing

That Deaglan couldn't get enough of this pizza, this alone made it a winner for me. We'll get those vegetables into him by any means possible.