Right around the time when Stephen gets home each day -- 3PM to 3:15PM -- Ada decides she needs to eat. Today was no exception. At the time, I was in the kitchen finishing up some stuff for dinner. When Stephen turned the knob to open the back door, this is the scene that greeted him:
Welcome home, daddy!
I'd like to tell you it's that blissfully easy. Just drop to my knees and feed her as-needed. Thing is, for the past month or more, nursing sessions have been a lot more difficult. Ada's increasingly distracted. And at first, that was fine. I just took her into a dark room and she'd eat.
These days, unless we're horizontal, things go a lot more like this:
I'd say I have to do about 95% . . . ninety-five percent . . . of feeding Ada while laying in our bed with the shades drawn. Now, you might think something like, "How wonderful! You get to lay down and relax!" But it's really not that much fun . . . lots of arm-flailing goes on, so I can't exactly nap. Plus, when it seems like I finally get some momentum in my day, I have to go lay down for 20 minutes. Every two to three hours. It sucks my energy like crazy.
At least once a day, we practice nursing anywhere we are when her hunger strikes.
I'm hoping that, like with everything else, this is just a stage. That someday soon those cats slinking around won't arouse too much attention. Or the curtains won't seem too terribly interesting. That someday soon we can just chow down without it being this huge upstairs affair.
Until then, we'll continue practicing. And I'll try my best to be patient and savor the quiet moments in bed.
Does this sort of nursing pattern sound familiar to you? What did you do to get back into a more relaxed groove? I can use all the help I can get!
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