One of the developmental milestones I have been the most excited to reach is parental preference, when the baby starts to love E and I better than everyone else. I mean, it’s hard to spend the morning wiping poop off your child, yourself, the crib and the walls and still get the same smile as the lady in the grocery store who calls him “such a happy little girl”. I am your sole source of food child, and don’t you forget it. I want some love!

Unfortunately, that mindset seems to have backfired. Baby Evan definitely remembers where his food comes from. He remembers at night, when he refuses to unlatch even in his sleep. He remembers when I’m carrying him around and he starts patting my shirt to make sure he’s favorite things in the world are still there. He remembers when we’re playing on the floor and he launches himself right at my cleavage, head first. It seems that his parental preference isn’t for ME as much as it is for my boobs.

One of the things I love about breastfeeding is that it’s an automatic boo-boo fixer, sleeping pill, tantrum distraction and leisure activity in one convenient package. Now that head bumps and face plants are a part of daily life the ability to sooth Baby Evan’s tears on demand is more important than ever. But apparently while I was holding him in my arms and kissing his head and singing him little songs, all he noticed was the comfy pillows. So much for making his lovey a blanket or one of the dozens of cute and cuddly stuffed animals collecting dust in his room – he’s already picked out his two favorite things. I just hope he knows he won’t be taking them to college.

I am ridiculously proud of this scarf, especially considering I did about a million things wrong as far as “good” knitting goes. But hey, it will keep my neck warm so how wrong can it be?

Behold, the bebeh moddle, moddling my scarf:

Last week, a friend lost a pregnancy less than 48 hours after announcing it to her friends in a public manner. I don’t know how she’s doing now, because she posted a request not to talk about it and I’m trying to respect her wishes. I sent a text, figuring it was better than a Facebook message and less intrusive than a phone call, but it feels cheap and impersonal. In the past when someone I know had a miscarriage (it’s reported that between 20-50% of pregnancies result in miscarriage,  but even those statistics seem low…or my friends and family have just suffered more than their share) I’ve sent cards, sometimes called, but more often than not I’ve ignored it in favor of silence. I have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth and make things worse when I’m trying to make them better and my anecdote about how I once had a cat that died so I know how they feel is TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE.  Because I don’t know how they feel. The pain someone feels after a loss is not about me. I am sad FOR a friend but in no way am I suffering the way they are.

There are people who take every opportunity to bring themselves closer to a tragedy, make it more personal, make it all about them. They love the attention grief brings. They feed off the sympathetic looks and comments. They gather around tragedies the way some people gather around celebrities.

I hate grief groupies. In fourth or fifth grade, one of the men who attended my church was killed in a plane crash. I knew his daughters through Sunday School and his wife a little bit, but I didn’t know the man well enough to remember his name now, a decade later. I saw how devastated his family was and how they wished more than anything that they were further from the tragedy, that it wasn’t in their life, that it had happened to someone they didn’t know. I saw the church community offer love and support and shelter from the well-meaning but pushy grief groupies who lived just down the street or went to the same grocery store or who once flew on a plane that took off from that same airport. And I punched a kid in my homeroom who spent the whole morning following the accident going around telling everyone HE went to the same church TOO and was SO SAD and maybe it could have been HIS dad on that plane, except for, you know, IT WASN’T. And now that I’m an adult with adult friends who have adult problems and adult tragedies, I worry my attempts at sympathy will be seen the way I saw that kid’s actions.

I think the hardest part of supporting someone through a miscarriage is not knowing how they want to be supported. Maybe they’re done grieving and my phone call will rip the bandage off a healing wound. Maybe they’ve already used up their monthly allowance of “I’m doing ok”. Maybe they aren’t as sad as they feel they’re “supposed to” be and hearing condolences over and over just makes it worse. I’m sure dealing with the reactions and responses from friends and family can be almost as painful as the actual miscarriage. I just don’t know what to say. Do you have any advice?

I finally got my baby tattoo, only six months after first thinking about it.

This is from my point of view. I think the artist found the perfect balance between looking like an E and looking like a 3.

This is how it looks when I show it to people. I love that it's more like a butterfly than letters and numbers.

A friend mentioned she thought tattoos were contraindicated during breastfeeding, but the internet tells me it’s (probably) ok. Actually, what La Leche League says is the ink cannot pass into breastmilk and the risks associated with getting a tattoo while nursing are the same as getting any tatttoo. I am 100% confident in the health and safety practices of the shop and the artist where I had it done, so as long as I follow my after care instruction Baby Evan and I should be totally safe. This is not my first time under the needle.

As a side note though, when E and I stopped in to make the appointment we had Baby Evan with us so the artist knew I had a 7 month old. The question of whether or not I was nursing was never asked and wasn’t in the waiver of liability I signed. I wonder if he would have had an issue doing it if I had brought it up?

The lovely (really really lovely – I actually kind of hate her) Ita from Silence and Noise has given me an award!

Since I’ve never been tagged for one of these before, and I’m too lazy to come up with anything clever on a Sunday, here are my answers to the questionnaire.

Here are the rules:
1. You can only use one word!
2. Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers.
3. Alert them that you have given them this award!
4. Have Fun!

The Survey
1. Where is your cell phone? Bag
2. Your hair? Blonde
3. Your mother? Best
4. Your father? Brilliant
5. Your favorite food? Fries
6. Your dream last night? Forgotten
7. Your favorite drink? Wine
8. Your dream/goal? Happiness
9. What room are you in? Family
10. Your hobby? Knitting!
11. Your fear? Alone
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Alive
13. Where were you last night? Here
14. Something that you aren’t? Artistic
15. Muffins? Blueberry
16. Wish list item? BabyHawk
17. Where did you grow up? Everywhere
18. Last thing you did? Nursed
19. What are you wearing? Comfortable
20. Your TV? Huge
21. Your pets? Forgiving
22. Friends? Amazing
23. Your life? Normal
24. Your mood? Content
25. Missing someone? Somewhat
26. Vehicle? Jeep
27. Something you’re not wearing? Socks
28. Your favorite store? Target
29. Your favorite color? Blue
30. When was the last time you laughed? Recently
31. Last time you cried? Unsure
32. Your best friend? Away
33. One place that I go to over and over? Bed
34. One person who e-mails me regularly? WordPress
35. Favorite place to eat? Charleston

See how easy that was? I nominate All the Blues That’s Fit to Print, The Adventures of Ernie Bufflo, Funny Days With Mommy and Maddie, Strained Peas (and Other Messes), This is the First Day of My Life, and my sister at Adventures A Go-Go, who will never fill it out because she’s too busy saving the world.