The Care and Feeding of a Nursing Mother

I’m realizing that the amount of milk I make for Greta seems really dependent on the amount of oatmeal I eat. I know that oatmeal is a galactogogue, and also one of my favorite breakfasts, but it’s funny to realize that when I don’t eat it for breakfast, I pump much less. I also take Fenugreek supplements, which provide a little boost as well, but not as much of a boost as I’d like. Fenugreek has the unexpected consequence of reducing my appetite for tasty treats.

Anyone else out there have ways of making more milk that don’t involve power pumping? I really only find the time in my workday to pump twice, and then I pump after Greta goes to sleep, but it’s barely enough to send with her to daycare.
If only chocolate chip cookies and decaf tea were also milk-stimulating. I’d be all set.


Annual post

I keep getting the urge to blog…so here I am.  The trouble is, I never seem to know what I ought to write about.  It’s not for a lack of things to say, it’s just that the decision to be public with one’s thoughts seems kind of complicated.

First, there are all sorts of topics that seem off-limits.  Work, because the library community is very small, and the town I work in is very small, and the good and the bad can really just stay in the building.  My children, because much as I love them and being their mama, that’s what Facebook is for!  Weight loss is something I struggle with constantly, but I’m not terribly successful at it, so it’s both embarrassing and uninteresting.  Knitting is something I do frequently, but I have so little to show for the small amount of time that I dedicate to it, although if I start taking better photos of my knitting it may be more appealing.  Beer is less of a passion than it used to be, mainly because the past three years have been spent pregnant, breastfeeding, trying to lose weight, or trying to get pregnant.  So what part of my life is left to blog about?  Good question.

Second, sometimes I feel some perfectionist tendency to wait to write until I have something profound to say.  But the truth of it is that really nothing I have to say is profound – I’m just an ordinary person, with ordinary things to say and a handful of people who might want to read those things.

Third, I have trouble dedicating time to anything different – I’m in a rut!  I get myself and Emmett and Greta ready for our day, I go to work, I come home and feed everyone, help put our children to bed, and then proceed to fritter away two pleasant hours with Jim before turning in.  Those two hours seem like prime time to catch up on exercise, reading, blogging, and knitting, right?  Somehow it rarely happens like that – it’s other enjoyable things like talking, watching movies or tv, and surfing the web semi-aimlessly.

So, dear blog, I’m back today, with no promises.  I don’t want to feel guilty about blogging or not blogging, but the truth is that I’ve wanted to put myself back here and get into the habit of visiting myself once in awhile.