With apologies to Mignon, and anyone else I may upset
Guess what I was doing fairly late last night.
Sleeping?
HAHAHAHAHAHA. If you guessed "sleeping," you're most likely a brand-new reader. Welcome to my world!!!
Sewing while swearing?
Close. That was the night before.
Eating?
No, but I WAS hungry.
What I was doing, dear readers, was reading about breastfeeding while lying with a pillow sheathed in a silky, "slightly-irregular" pillowcase wedged between my knees, panting. The panting was partly due to the fact that I am as large as if I were about 15 months pregnant and partly due to the content of the material.
I made it okay through the discussion of soreness and lanolin and cracked nipples and bleeding. I took the advice to air-dry your nipples in stride.
Then, I stumbled upon the recommended positions for nursing, and completely lost it.
The recommended position for nursing twins is something called the "football hold."
I hate anything and everything that has to do with football. I have shunned ice-cream sundaes that have been named after various things that have to do with football. My college roommate had a booklet in our room with a schedule of football games; I had to turn it face-down when she wasn't looking. When I hear Europeans talk about football, I have to repeat to myself, calmly and at regular intervals, "They really mean soccer. They really mean soccer." I cannot stand even a few seconds of a football game on television. On Thanksgiving, I will often go into the next room, by myself, and stare directly at the fireplace, or condensation on the windows, or the pattern of the rug, or ANYTHING ELSE instead of basking in the warm glow of family members while they watch football.
I WILL NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, HOLD MY BABY IN A POSITION AKIN TO A "FOOTBALL," AND I PITY THE LACTATION CONSULTANT WHO SUGGESTS IT.
However, I will be more than willing to try the "clutch purse on a subway" hold, which of course is my Bowdlerized version of the exact same thing.
Sleeping?
HAHAHAHAHAHA. If you guessed "sleeping," you're most likely a brand-new reader. Welcome to my world!!!
Sewing while swearing?
Close. That was the night before.
Eating?
No, but I WAS hungry.
What I was doing, dear readers, was reading about breastfeeding while lying with a pillow sheathed in a silky, "slightly-irregular" pillowcase wedged between my knees, panting. The panting was partly due to the fact that I am as large as if I were about 15 months pregnant and partly due to the content of the material.
I made it okay through the discussion of soreness and lanolin and cracked nipples and bleeding. I took the advice to air-dry your nipples in stride.
Then, I stumbled upon the recommended positions for nursing, and completely lost it.
The recommended position for nursing twins is something called the "football hold."
I hate anything and everything that has to do with football. I have shunned ice-cream sundaes that have been named after various things that have to do with football. My college roommate had a booklet in our room with a schedule of football games; I had to turn it face-down when she wasn't looking. When I hear Europeans talk about football, I have to repeat to myself, calmly and at regular intervals, "They really mean soccer. They really mean soccer." I cannot stand even a few seconds of a football game on television. On Thanksgiving, I will often go into the next room, by myself, and stare directly at the fireplace, or condensation on the windows, or the pattern of the rug, or ANYTHING ELSE instead of basking in the warm glow of family members while they watch football.
I WILL NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, HOLD MY BABY IN A POSITION AKIN TO A "FOOTBALL," AND I PITY THE LACTATION CONSULTANT WHO SUGGESTS IT.
However, I will be more than willing to try the "clutch purse on a subway" hold, which of course is my Bowdlerized version of the exact same thing.
Copyright 2005-2010 by Arabella and Trattoria Breve. All rights reserved. 8:29 AM
10 Comments:
I forgive you, but only because I know you're uber-hormonal. You will come to love FOOTBALL. I know it. FOOTBALL will give you a free hand with which to take a swig of cabernet while listening to NPR. FOOTBALL will allow to hold a book in your lap (maybe), while your little peaches are snacking. FOOTBALL will be your friend.
HA!
I'm with Mignon, though, the football hold rocks the house. I pretty much used nothing but for the first three months.
I do rather like the sound of the clutch purse on a subway hold, though. Much more my speed.
Clutch purse...yeah...that's the ticket. But nursing two at the same time? I'm baffled as to how it can be done (even though it happens every day) without having your brains sucked out at the same time?
Mignon: But with the two, I won't have any free hands! Can I have the cabernet through a straw?
Tits: I am very much inclined to take your advice, given your name and all. You ARE the expert!
WG: I have no idea how I'll nurse them both at once, but, then, I have no idea how I'm carrying both at once. Actually, I have SOME idea: it involves great aches and agony. I've slowly been siphoning away at my brains for the past 7 months, too, so there probably won't be anything left for the babies to destroy anyway.
It's all a matter of pillows and an accomodating spouse. FOOTBALL is the new hands-free. I did crossword puzzles, played cards, directed the New York Philharmonic...
We'll see what you sounds like after two weeks of nursing. You will be holding those babies better than any quarterback in the NFL!
LMAO!
I think it's wrong to compare babies to footballs or purses in ANY scenario. *Shudder* I will never get that image of you holding a baby like a purse on a train while some evil Hamburgler looking dude sneaks up behind you out of my head. Thanks.
Oh gosh,,,,,you're gonna be so good. You'll have a baby clutched just so under each arm, feeding away, while you have your phone caught between your cheek and shoulder talking away, and watching hideous tv at 9am in the morning, because even Judge Judy shreiking can keep you awake after being up half the night, when all you want to do is fall asleep to the sound of duel slurping, and warm bodies cuddled up to you.
I refuse to read the breastfeeding books unless I run into a problem, which I inevitably will. They make breastfeeding sound like fucking astrophysics. If it were up to the book people we would all be running around holding our children like footballs with our tits hanging out to air dry. GAH.
Teebs, careful what you don't wish for... "If it were up to the book people we would all be running around holding our children like footballs with our tits hanging out to air dry."... because this sounds very much like the first couple weeks of motherhood. Aside from the running. There will be no running.
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