Sweet or sour?

If you don't want drink milk from a cow, what's the best alternative? Unsweetened soya milk that's full of oestrogen and Other hormonal crap, or almond milk that contains sugar? Second biggest ingredient in fact...

Svenny says no to the bottle (for a change)

I have to stop interfering! I read baby blogs and interfere with everything they say. I just get annoyed and it's too hard trying to change the world. At least right now!
But it's so hard to shut up when people are wrong. When people are basing their decisions on anecdotal evidence, which this god damn world wibe web is full of."I couldn't breastfeed because it was too hard." We couldn't get pregnant for two years but i didn't hear anyone say "don't worry if it's too hard, you don't have to get pregnant". You don't give up, so why would you give up on breastfeeding? Childbirth is really bloody hard, but i don't hear people saying they tried for a while but it was really hard so i gave up. Everything else related to childbirth is hard so why do we expect breastfeeding to be easy? Then there are the anecdotes that tell us that "my children were formula fed and they're fiiiiine". Of course they're fine. You can live on crisps and red bull and coffee and biscuits and you'll still be fine. You smoke twenty a day and you're fine! But you don't know if the cancer you get when you're 65 is due to poor diet or bad luck. Or the ear infection you get when you're eight is down to lack of breastmilk or bad luck. Would you take the chances with your precious perfect child? I know i wouldn't.
I have had a real struggle breastfeeding my baby. But i got the facts right, and because i got the facts right i have stuck to it. Thanks to analyticalarmadillo.co.uk and kellymom.com which are the best evidence-based websites i have ever come across. But for me, it is enoughto just smell a bottle of formula. Would you drink that? I wouldn't and i certainly wouldn't give my baby anything i wouldn't have myself...Breastmilk, on the other hand, is quite delicious.

Marathon

Everyone's heard of "extreme breastfeeding". People breastfeeding their 8-year-olds or whatever. That's not extreme breastfeeding. This is: Constantly feeding from 4am to midday, or from 1pm to 10. Or both. Twenty out of twentyfour hours. Three, sometimes four hours sleep. The odd ten minutes here and there before starts to act as if though i haven't fed her in days. Sheer panic! And no, i haven't got a supply issue. I wake up in a pool of milk (that's when i get some sleep, most of the times i'm already awake). It's because i'm feeding a small premature baby who's having a permanent growth spurt. It's totally worth it, she's growing so well and even rolled over yesterday. Anyway, i have finally learnt to bf with one hand, so maybe, just maybe, i'll be able to frequent this blog that the world forgot a little bit more often. But i'm not promising anything!

Yummy mummy?

Next week Tallulah is two months old and i guess it's time to deal with this baby fat. I call it baby fat but you know it's not. I spent five months eating for a whole football team. (First three months i just ate breadsticks and green apples, and i was only pregnant for 8 months.) my twelve day vacation to Resort Hospital, combined with the birth of a five pound baby, probably resulted in a little weight loss. But then i came home and oh my god. I have literally sat a whole in the sofa and as i sit there i am surrounded by biscuit crumbs and chocolate wrappers. It's okay, breastfeeding burns 500 calories a day, and i breastfeed for around 20 hours a day (not a joke) so surely i'm burning double. Not! I am fatter now than whilst i was pregnant. I guess that's what happens when you eat 2000 calories worth of biccies every day. Why am i surprised? The other issue is that Tallulah hates the pram. I have tried but rarely made it to the end of the road, so if i want to go out i have to take the car like some lazy American. But at last, eight weeks in, i have found the perfect solution for my kangaroo baby: a sling. Today i walked, walked woohoo, to tesco and back and baby T slept like a baby (?) the whole time. Ignore the fact that i hadn't considered how to get the shopping home and that i had to phone daddy (i know...) to come and pick it up. I bought biscuits by the way... So now i can go out, walk, be a yummy mummy, and come 11th September no more biscuits...