Tastes

http://www.katescottage.net/images/artichoke.jpg

I'm kind of a snob. My mother was American and sort of eclectic. My father's mother has certain contradictions - she's very cultured, yet also a product of her time, an educated Dublin Protestant, a school teacher's daughter. I think my father was essentially upwardly mobile. He lost his Dublin accent on going to Trinity and bought a big white house in the country.

My values are mixed, they're academic but pretty new-aged, I suppose. I can be intolerant, though that's more to do with my character than the values of my upbringing though my father is more intolerant than me... my husband is of a very different class than I am, my values can be utterly bemusing to his mother and I suspect to him quite often. Some of the things that I notice amuse me - I played 'Simon Says', his mother played 'O'Grady Says', for me Michael Finnegan's Whiskers grew out and grew in again (wordplay) but for my MIL, the wind came along and blew them in again (funny but not clever). I caught a tiger by the tail, not a nigger (god forbid!). there's a big list of differences like that.

But there are so many things that are part of my make-up that I'm so grateful for my parents for introducing me to (though it's painful that I can't always continue them). I love fresh homegrown vegetables, picking peas and raspberries out of the garden. Artichokes dipped and wine sauce, the delicious prize of the heart. Avodacoes filled with oil and vinegar. My mother's American cooking, fried chicken, spare ribs in sweet and sour sauce, her baking from when I was small. Her homemade ice-cream.Dinner parties. No-one I know has dinner parties. Or at least, hey don't ask me!

My father grew interested in wine and I've tasted some fantastic ones. Kir on a sunny day. Really good, old wine at Christmas time.

Big, festive meals, despite the panic it took to prepare them - ham glazed with pineapple and maraschino cherries, and scalloped potatoes on Christmas Eve. I like the ay my Christmas tree looks, my Italian designer friend said 'Ohm you have a 1950's Christmas tree!' I think it must be like something out of a coca cola ad, but oh well!

Reading. My father read me wonderful stories every night. Tolkein, CS Lewis, Kipling. And my sister had great books too - a thousand Enid Blytons, Harriet the Spy.

All my family loved music too, from opera to classical music to Springsteen and Jimmy Buffet!

I'm glad I can discuss things theoretically, that I want to. That my brain can make those jumps. I'm glad I love words, tha my daughter asks what things mean so intelligently, it reminds me of me. Such a good way to find out about the world.

I like to go to bed with a hot water bottle, not an electric blanket. I'm glad I grew up in cold houses, with real fires. Something you could toast a marshmallow on. I'm glad I got a chance to spend time with horses, and sheep. To make a dam in a stream.

I'm glad I didn't have to be the first in my family to breastfeed, or wear my babies in a sling, or puree fresh food. I love to go to the zoo still.

There are so many other things I can't think of now, but that I notice all the time we all have them, the things you think 'why would anyone do it any other way?' - though at the the same time I add other people's ways to my own all the time, or I'm entertained, amused, or interested by other people's traditions and fixed ideas. Or embarrassed - I'll never forget my friend's mother snapping 'Joanna! Use your napkin!' at me at dinner. Yep, I'm a scruff bag and I still don't use my cutlery properly. If I have my way, I prefer to do without a knife. My brother in law eats like Emily Post,I'll have to get him to teach my children knife and fork control!

So what's your One Best Way?

Purple Nurples

not really relevant, but where the photo comes from

Well, I'm all about the breast feeding at the moment, so if it's not your cup of tea, come back later.

I didn't anticipate having any problems this time round - I'd got through the tough start before, I'd done a class, I had booked a very experienced midwife - and we started out great, D was gentle and calm and brilliant at it. Then I got so engorged it was hard for him to latch on, then the dreaded thrush started, and the blocked ducts and mastitis episode, and there's just been all this discomfort and stress since.

The experience of my supply decreasing due to the pumping (bruised and cracked nipple the burning of the thrush, my nipples were like raspberries for a while there, eurg) was so alarming. Pumping wasn't enough to keep the supply up and I was taking lots of B6 complex to work on the thrush and mastitis - but I read a post on rollercoaster that said you need to keep your Bvit dose to 25mgs or below - and I was taking 200mg!

So the supply is back up again now - stopped taking the vitamins, ate porridge and drank loads of fennel tea, tried to rest, hmm. It was a terribly emotional feeling - so much had not gone to plan, and as a second baby, D has to be so patient and put up with half measures. If I wasn't able to feed him it would kill me, I feel like I've failed him enough already. [I feel so nervous now, to make statements like this because of all the people who wanted to breastfeed but couldn't, or who choose not to - but fuck it, it's my blog, and it's about how I feel, not about judging or offending anyone else]. I made the mistake of complaining about the general pain and hassle, and fear of supply failing to my MIL the other day and got my first 'Well if it's so bad would you not just give up' comment.

I find it hard to understand why people discourage others from breastfeeding. Surely there is enough scientific information available now to convince others that it is worthwhile if you want to do it, even if you choose to suffer for it? Isn't the concept of struggling for something worthwhile acceptable? Are there other situations where it is usual to encourage someone to give something up because it's hard? If I were giving up smoking or drugs and suffering withdrawal, if I was running a marathon I'd be suffering as lot more than I am now, would people tell me to give up because my feet were sore, or my joints were aching? Or I was out of breath and red from running up a hill, my knees possibly getting damaged, etc. Should I stop because it's hard? After all, breastfeeding is decreasing my (significant) chances of getting breast cancer, as well as protecting my baby from many diseases, including meningitis, improving his eyesight, perhaps his IQ, responding to his individual needs. People are always saying they'd do anything for their children. Well, this is one of my anythings.

In many ways, though, I'm not enjoying breastfeeding this time round. I do so hope I can get it back to normal. The gentian violet (hence the purple nurples)is definitely helping with D's thrush, and I'm showing improvement too - and if not, apparently there's something called Threelac that's very effective too - I wish I'd known sooner! And I have bought the medicated gel, in case all else fails, but I haven't heard great reports of it, I think it will just recur. We'll see.

Though the feeding's hard, I don't particularly like giving him the bottle, though I'm amazed to discover the oxytocin still starts flowing when I do it, I fall asleep just the same - so the drug response comes from the act of feeding a baby, not just the milk in my system - mad! There was a post of RC about a woman not liking her inlaws and someone suggested she breastfeed, to retain more control of the baby. A non-breastfeeder couldn't understand what that had to do with it - but others did - one woman said that if she hadn't breastfed her mother in law would have insisted on giving the bottle all the time, another said it was her excuse to get the baby back from her family. Someone else said it really cements the idea that you're the mother. Well, I agree. Long ago, I read that a baby should stay within its mother's or father's auras for the first three weeks of its life and that totally struck a chord with me. If a baby has lived inside you it's entire life, the separation should be slow and gentle. I think breastfeeding helps with that. It may close out the father but to be honest, I think that's ok.

Anyway, it would have been wonderful if my baby's father had sat behind me and rubbed my aching shoulders every time my babies fed, and he could have shared the experience that way, in a very physical way, but it's not like that ever happened.

This is getting off track. What's my point? Oh yes. I'm the mammy. End of story. I hope it helps make up for all the bits I'm not so good at.

Erm...

Does anyone read my little whiney blog? I don't know. It doesn't matter, it's just somehow better to write online than to put words in a book, which I always loved the idea of but only do when I need to vent. And this is more therapeutic, for some reason. Maybe most of us wrote our diary with the idea in mind that some one might read it?

I should be writing about my struggle with thrush but I don't wanna. I think I'll wait til I've cured it - and I hope I have the cure in my grasp now, I just have to administer it. Hopefully I'll have some good news within the next few days.

Right now I'm trying to decide whether I should copy Midget Wrangler's sandwich post or would that just make me a pathetic, copy cat blogger without an idea of my own in my head. The problem is I agree with her so much about so many things ( though not abortion, the McCann's or mayonnaise, it seems :) ) and then I have too much to say in a comment.

Oy, I'm tired. How will I ever start correcting again? I'd better go pump, Baby D is still feeding every two hours - when will it all be back to normal? I'm just waiting for a little plateau, so I can catch my breath!

I went to the Public Health Nurse for his 3 month check up today, he's 15lbs 10 oz! My lovely fat baby.

100 fav things post

A friend did a great list of things for her 100th post and I loved the idea so I resolved to nick it - as she did herself, and so on. Unfortunately, every time I think of a favourite thing, it's food related. So I'm tempted to do a 100 favourite things to eat post, then I think, God I'm obsessed but hey, we all know about my foody compulsions, so maybe I shouldn't pretend. Let's just see how it goes, in no real order:

1. Chocolate Cherry Torte, our family Birthday Cake, which my mother made from an old Farmer's Journal Cake cookbook, sublime.

2. And all the other things she used to bake so beautifully, my American heritage. I try and do them now, with varying degrees of success - brownies, chocolate chip cookies, cheesecake, blackberry custard pie.

3. Reading, preferably lying on my bed, and eating!

4. The soft little button heel of my babies' untrodden feet, my favourite part of a baby!

5. Withnail and I.

6. The characters from That 7o's Show, I love them.

7. Stargate and Stargate Atlantis - especially Ronon Dax.

8. Men's long hair. Or shaved heads, like prickly velvet. mmmm

9. Children's books: picture books, story books. I can't wait to read my kids the Hobbit. Or Harry Potter. Or all the rest.

10. Writing. Even when it's shite, but especially when it works.

11. Making people laugh.

12. Laughing.

13. Conversation. Those really good hypothesising ones, about silly things, when you're all on the same wavelength and it's fun and intense and communication flows.

14. I used to love sex and now I'm at a period in my life where it's sort of absent. I hope it'll come round again, that teenage buzz. But I thought I'd include it because it was once all I thought about!

15. Fireworks. God, I LOVE fireworks.

16. The Frames. Very important part of my life. I met the ex base player at the airport last weekend, he asked us where the check in was and I BEAMED at him but didn't get round to telling him why!

17. Champagne Cocktails. Black Velvets, mmm. Any cocktails, really.

18. That moment when you go to the toilet and realise you're drunk because the cubice sort of sways around you, that happy Guinness, 'hooray, I'm pissed feeling.

19. Live music. The Pixies, Nirvana, Metallica, Violent Femmes, David Byrne, Kirsten Hersh, The Big Geraniums, hell, the Juice - memorable gigs...

20. As a teacher, this may sound bad, but teenage boys - the best and the worst of humanity all at once.

21. Post pub/gig food.

22. Snow.

23. Summer evenings.

24. Bray seafront, when the water's metallic light blue and the sun is setting. And Bray head is beautiful. Gorgeous.

25. Achill Island.

26. Puppies.

27. Cuddling - and good hugs - Alan Crotty and Mark McKinney, best huggers ever!

28. Ok, this is gross, but spot squeezing. Sue me, it relaxes me.

29. Hot baths, with Lush bath bombs.

30. The moment when the plane jumps into the air.

31. Swimming - if I'd lived in any other country I could have been a contender.

32. Talking about sex with the girls.

33. Facemasks and other stuff you put on and peel off.

34. Having fingernails! Whee! I love nail varnish.

35. Dancing.

36. Indian accents, and the way Indians speak English.

37. Wolves.

38. Novelists. Barbara Kingsolver.

39. Television, the drug of the nation...

40. Cereal. I could live on it - in fact I often do.

41. Sand.

42. Fiddling with things. And doodling.

43. The internet. Amazing invention.

44. Clean sheets, preferably in conjunction with freshly shaven legs - and going whoosh whoosh against the sheets! I'm embarrassed by how long it's been since I've done that!

45. Getting email.

46. Dinner parties. A combination of many things I love - cooking, eating, conversation, laughing, drinking... why don't more people I know invite me to them?

47. Dreaming about winning the Lottery.

48. My four year old daughter's fantastic questions - learning the world insightfully.

49. Really heavy rain, thunder and lightening, hail - safe extreme weather.

50. Scenery, outdoors. The imagination and feelings the beauty of nature produces.

51. Trees.

52. Christmas. Decorations, glowiness, getting presents, my mother's stuffing and red cabbage.

53. Horses.

54. Clothes, surprisingly, given what a scruff bag I am.

55. Buffy The Vampire Slayer. So many many happy hours.

56. Stand up Comedy, live or otherwise, and having a pain in my face from laughing.

57. Zach Braff.

58. That my husband, when he was my boyfriend, used to cycle round Bray on a pink bike, wearing pink dungarees and a pink t shirt, with his long hair blowing in the wind...

59. Black.

60. Pink.

61. Bubbles.

62. Ladybirds.

63. Making things.

64. Shopping.

65. Making plans. Writing lists!

66. Handbags. Radley is my brand of choice. I particularly love getting a new one, and putting all the stuff from the old one into it.

67. Jeans.

68. Art supplies and stationary.

69. Books.

70. Erotica.

71. Candlelight. We had a powercut recently and it was lovely. It made the ordinary seem spiritual, peaceful, beautiful. My daughter sleeps with the light on at the moment - standing in her room in the flickering candlelight watching her sleep seemed so much better.

72. Photo albums, old and new.

73. Dreams - mine and yours.

74. Sleeping.

75. Getting home, putting on comfies.

76. Discovering things in common.

77. Looking at attractive people.

78. Other people's houses.

79. Being made a cup of tea or a hot water bottle.

80. Getting post. Nice post, that is.

81. Winning stuff on ebay.

82. Children's programmes from my youth - I just bought a dvd of the Flumps!

83. A well articulated opinion.

84. Today fm - Ray Darcy and Tom Dunne.

85. I am so proud of Daire O Brian.

86. The Beatles.

87. Fresh homegrown vegetables - corn on the cob, salad, peas, artichokes with garlic butter wine sauce. Perfect.

88. A really nice apple.

89. Harriet the Spy. Great book.

90. The Stephanie Plum series.

91. the Lord of the Rings, book and film.

92. My wedding music. Pachelbel's Canon on the way in, 'Baby I love You' by the Ramones on the way out. :)

93. Chatting to strangers.

94. Getting really clean after getting really dirty.

95. Van Gogh's Starry Night. Like being on drugs. Go see it!

96. The Municipal House in Prague.

97. Being in bed.

98. The support of other women.

99. Babies.

100. ICECREAM!

my little mastitis story!

So we finally managed to book our holiday - a week in Tuscany, more about that soon.

This post is about the holiday preparation, which fell to me, as the primary earner of the household as busy primary earning and practicing in the lead up to the hol.


This is unfortunate as organisation is not my strong suit - for days I washed and dried and ironed clothes while the house get more hectic, and the piles of washing and ironing mounted. As the week went on, I seemed to get less ready and things kept getting in the way.


I'd been having trouble feeding the baby for few weeks - my nipples were getting bruised and horribly sore, to the extent that I had to pump on one side. I emailed the breast feeding consultant who got back to me several days later, offering me a free consultation in Liffey Valley, so I trekked out there Thursday instead of preparing for the hol, to find I had thrush - in the baby's mouth and it had got onto me. Then I had to pick up the passports in town, failed to go to the homoeopathic pharmacy but got home to find my homoeopath was away and had time for limited communication only - then I trolled around for someone to give me the remedy, feeling like a fool, and - get this - rang a homoeopath I thought I'd got help from before and arranged to pick up the remedy from her - only to get to her house and realise I'd been talking to the wrong woman! I confused an Aileen with an Aideen whose name I must have heard before, I don't know where, dur! So I had to drive around to find her, feeling like a dick.

Leaving her house I noticed I had pain in my left breast but I sort of ignored it (dur again) and went to Blackrock to get knitting stuff for the holiday - got there, parked, walked to the shop, realised I'd left pattern in car, walked back, returned to shop, bought stuff, and struggled home, stayed up til one am doing stuff, husband hadn't packed or done anything other than put kids to bed, we were both wrecked.

Next morning the pain was still there and I realised I had blocked ducts - tried to get in touch with homeopath but she didn't respond so I didn't talk to her til 2.30, but which time it was too late - I got into bed at her insistence and took the mastitis remedy, but still developed an infection anyway, chills and a fever and a scary red line leading out from my nipple! My hom. freaked me out by insisting I get a wheelchair to take me round th airport, as we were leaving at 4 am that morning! I was also meant to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING which the husband deeply didn't appreciate - he was up til all hours doing the stuff he hadn't done the bits I hadn't got to with a serious lack of grace brought on by exhaustion and the fact that he'd got home from work extremely late and was busy doing band stuff. Not a fun evening. And I was so upset, I was convinced I'd be ill throughout the holiday, not to mention all the scary mastitis possibilities.

BUT! I took 2 fever remedies that night and the fever went and didn't come back. Another remedy kept the infection at bay and the line came and went a few times but disappeared for good by Monday. Hot and cold showers worked best at releasingthe blockage, and that went by Monday too with lots and lots of feeding.

There was a very helpful article in Mothering as well which had great tips and explanations - thanks Alicia!

All in all, I blame being overtired and overextended with 2 kids (with My first I spent a couple months on the sofa!), wearing my lovely Anita underwired nursing bra to bed a few times when I was too tired to go down and get a wireless one - duh, how stupid? And now I'm scared to wear it at all! Also the thrush encourages it, I think. But I would agree that if you get to it in the first 24 hours you don't need anti biotics, the remedies work so well, cabbage leaves are excellent for the swelling and discomfort, lots of water, and go to bed and feed feed feed. I took vitaminB6 too, and lots of pro-biotics.

Coming up: raving about Tuscany, but first, my 100 favourite things (or possibly foods) post!

Preparation

The good news is we're off to Italy on Saturday! We've a house in the hills over Lucca, with a pool! Last we heard it was a sunny 22', hurrah.

Unfortunately I'm a little overwhelmed by the packing challenge - as an aside, Aer Lingus now charges €5 a bag baggage charge - what's that about?? Surely you pay your ticket and that covers your suitcase? - anyway, the packing ,the washing, the ironing! I even went down to the laundrette today, which is an otherworldly experience for me - I'm fascinated by the giant dryer, though I have to stop myself thinking of dryer horror stories involving children and animals.

I have to iron more tonight, then sit down and make lots of lists. The husband is at practice - his cd has gone into production, we're away next week, the lads are away the week after (aw) so they need to see each other tonight - another clubhouse moment! But I'm making him bring evil McDonald's home, so all is not lost.

I always hate the drudgery of holidays though, the preparing, packing and worst of all, getting up in the middle of the night - I always just feel like I don't want to go, just let me sleep longer instead. I haven't yet done that with children, so yikes, what joy that will be, I think we have to be in the airport by 5!