Breastfeeding a toothy baby

While it may be hard to tell from the picture, the BabyBeast popped a couple of teeth out on the bottom



Since it's been on my mind lately (and on my nipples), I thought this would be a great time to address breastfeeding a baby with teeth, especially since I've already heard from one well-meaning family member, "I guess this means you're done with breastfeeding!"

The simple fact is, the teeth never touch me when he's nursing. They're on the bottom, which means his tongue covers them (and believe me, I am one happy MommaBeast about that). And he hasn't made any efforts to bite me while nursing (or even shortly after nursing, in the sip-and-contemplate stage of his nursing sessions).

What about when his top teeth come in (and yes, there are little gum-bumps already)? Well, KellyMom.com, THE breastfeeding site, has some answers to that. And just in case you need the information backed up, the La Leche League provides some wonderful information here.

I plan to allow the BabyBeast to self-wean. I will let him breastfeed as long as he wants to (and, in fact, the WHO and AAP recommend breastfeeding continue for at least two years, although it can continue beyond that point as far as the mother and child desire. While I don't see myself nursing a kindergardener, I am comfortable having a nursing toddler who can use whole sentences to ask for nursing.

Teeth are such a small thing in a nursing relationship, and they definitely shouldn't end it... especially not when the baby is only 5 1/2 months old, like my BabyBeast.

Be happy

Sometimes, you just need a smile.

Sumo wrestling babies

Actually, it's not what you think. We aren't over-zealous parents pushing our five-month-old son into sports (but it builds character! you can never have too much character!) when he can't even crawl. This is actually one of the cuter parts of EC (as if the BabyBjorn Little Potty thing wasn't cute enough, right? of course right).

What the BabyBeast is sporting is actually a two-piece EC-wear... I'm hesitant to call it an 'outfit,' because I'd never take him out wearing this. And 'infit?' (on an infant)

He has a prefold, folded to fit neatly between his chunky baby thighs, held up with what is usually called a prefold belt, but I call a 'stretchy headband I bought at WalMart on clearance.' (who said the MommaBeast wasn't smart?)

The point of this get-up (or 'infit') is that it is exceptionally easy to take off when it's time to potty the baby. Or, if you miss the cues and the baby potties on himself, it's incredibly easy to pop the soiled prefold off the baby and tuck a new one under the 'prefold belt/headband thing.'

Also, it maximizes the cute effect of chub.

Things they don't tell you about co-sleeping

I studied up on safe co-sleeping (as I've mentioned before) and felt like I knew it all when we started sharing our bed with our infant son. But there was something they neglected to mention on all their fancy Web sites and in their well-worded books: when you co-sleep and breastfeed, the first two rows will get wet.

Perhaps that isn't a problem later on, but at this point in our breastfeeding adventure, I let down like a garden hose on full blast, and the Baby Beast usually lets go (to prevent drowning; obviously, he's smarter than his blank expression lets on) which means the bed takes the brunt of the spray (yes, we have mastered side-lying nursing).

So, I figured the best thing I could do is either put a raincoat underneath both me and the baby (which seemed like a very crinkly, plastic-y idea) or layer the bed underneath the baby with receiving blankets and prefold cloth diapers. You can guess which one I chose.


Obviously not a raincoat

Luckily, these absorb the brunt of the blast, and I change them every evening before we crawl into bed.

So, if you're planning on co-sleeping and breastfeeding, be aware that someday a raincoat (or some prefolds) might save your sheets.

Flirtations

While out grocery shopping this evening, the woman behind us in line became very taken with the Baby Beast (who was sitting in the cart propped on either side with my purse and the diaper bag, since he has yet to master sitting up). Through the course of her cooing and awwing, she delivered a phrase I have never before heard and that tickled me immensely.

"I could put you on a plate and sop you up with a biscuit!"

I had to do a mental reset as I tried to figure out where that had come from - it was nothing I'd ever heard before.

But I've decided I like it. It's ridiculous and cute... better than "I could eat you with a spoon" because somehow the mental imagery of jabbing at a baby with a spoon disturbs me (whereas laying them on a plate and rubbing a biscuit on them is slightly less disturbing).

There's not helping it - my son is a flirt. No matter where we go, he smiles and flirts with complete strangers. I keep getting warnings that he'll hit his shy stage any day now... I will believe it when I see it.

Amusement

I have found that sleep deprivation can actually cause you to laugh at things that otherwise never would have made a dent on you. I remember the same thing happening on long summer nights in high school, but this is a whole new kind of sleep deprivation (the kind where you're almost asleep, starting to drift into a dream, and a baby suddenly snorts and tries to latch onto your thumb knuckle, as your hand was resting a little too close to his face when he decided he needed to eat).

Things that have gotten me laughing lately include:

How serious the Baby Beast looks when trying to potty.


Teething, creating a whole new face to zombies:


Dogs who know a warm spot when they see it:


No one said parenting was for sissies, but no one mentioned the kinds of things you'd laugh at when you were going on a week of 45 minute naps between feedings. Thank goodness I'm finally getting the hang of side-lying nursing, or I would have to figure out how to sleep sitting up without dumping the baby off the Boppy.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

I've heard that mirrors are good for babies' development so we decided to introduce Jacob to the mirror in the bathroom (as we, unfortunately, lack the open space to put on at floor-level, even in the bedroom). The results? Confusion and interest.

We've striven to let him watch himself in the mirror for a few minutes several times a day, because he is obviously getting some enjoyment out of it. And even if he isn't, we certainly are enjoying watching him watch himself.

I've decided that babies would make the best research projects. What is research, but watching something endlessly to make sense out of it? Babies are excellent for this.

And while I didn't get a photo of it, Jacob is also learning to reach out for things with his hands, to try and grab hold. The bathroom mirrors have tiny squidgy handprints on them, and somehow I don't mind.