I know I promised birthday pictures but for the first time ever I managed to actually enjoy a party without a camera glued to my face, so I have to wait until my super awesome BFF sends me the ones she took. I mean, I paid her absolutely nothing and ignored her the whole day and made her help prep all the food and didn’t let her drive home with her toddler until the middle of the night but GEEZE, how come she hasn’t uploaded the 1,000 pictures she took in the 12 hours she’s been home? Obviously I need a new best friend. Or maybe she needs a new best friend.

So until I can get all the dinosaurific details together, I thought I’d put up a quick post. Something light. Something fluffy. Like how I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I enjoy having 2 toddlers and no babies and maybe babies are kind of a lot of work and wouldn’t it be nice if I didn’t have to go through the tiny helpless infant stage anymore so maybe I don’t want any more babies?

Even saying that to myself seems kind of insane – I’ve ALWAYS wanted more than 2 kids. When I was little I imagined having a huge family. E and I have always planned to have at least 3, maybe 4, maybe more if we talking about it after a few glasses of wine. We already have names picked out – not a list, mind you, but actual names that are set for future kids.

But having 2 toddlers is fantastic. I am in love with these two kids at these two ages, both as individuals and as siblings. They love each other a heart-breaking amount. And they play together! Independent of me! I can get stuff done even when they are both awake! They eat food and sleep through the night (mostly) and can communicate their needs and help me with toddler-appropriate chores and sit still when I read them books. I like all those things. They’re getting to an age where we could go on a vacation as a family and it would actually feel like a vacation instead of a series of disasters interspersed with forced fun. And as cliché as it sounds, having a boy and a girl somehow feels kind of…complete. It’s a matched set! (So so so kidding.)

Luckily, I’m allowed to feel like this for a little while before I have to decide if I REALLY feel like this or if I’m just drunk with sleep and freedom. When I think about what not having any more kids means – never being pregnant again, never nursing again, never having all those baby firsts again – I’m definitely not ready to be done. But maybe I’m done for now. The problem is defining “for now” – 6 months? 12 months? Until Caroline goes to preschool? Until Little Evan is old enough to babysit? That’s a big range of “for now”. Which is OK! I have time to think Deep Thoughts about babies and toddlers and family size and what my life would be like with 2 kids or 3 kids or 10 kids. It’s just been on my mind a lot lately because I’m coming up on one of those big life events where you waste a bunch of energy thinking about all the stuff you haven’t done yet in life and realize you never will be a ballerina or a professional furniture restorer or a chef or a supermodel or a writer for SNL or best friends with Britney Spears and maybe that’s making me a little sad.

Yep, tomorrow I turn 30.

I talk about my boobs a lot, especially here on my blog. It wasn’t something I set out to do – YES! I know what will make me a raging success on the internet! Talking about my SORE, LEAKING NIPPLES! – but when you are breastfeeding a newborn it just sort of happens. In the past three years, I’ve said the word “breast” more times the day than I’ve said my own name. BREAST.

Back in the beginning, when I was really struggling, I spent hours online reading forums and message boards and websites full of breastfeeding advice. Do this, don’t do this, try this, try that, give it time, see a doctor. Some of it was helpful, some of it was scary, some of it was eye-rollingly stupid, and sometimes it stressed me out. But one thing I found invaluable was real-life stories from real-life women. Living, breathing moms with crazy hormones and crying babies and stretched out abdominal muscles. I laughed at their leaky mishaps, cried when their babies were hungry, and sympathized with their pain. Those stories – not the experts – were what got me through the rough start and into happy, 15 month nursing relationship with my first child. I STILL turn to the internet when I have a breastfeeding question and find often myself answering them for others when they pop up on Twitter or Facebook.

There is some worry in the lactivist community that talking to much about the hard parts of breastfeeding instead of just the warm fuzzies and rainbows will discourage women from ever trying to breastfeed. They fear that too many jokes about bleeding nipples and piranha babies will scare mothers away and into the welcoming arms of the nearest can of formula. It is often implied – and sometimes said outright – that it shouldn’t hurt, it shouldn’t be a struggle, it should come naturally, and if our eyes fill up with tears of pain and angst rather than tears of joy as we latch our babies then we are doing it wrong. Shhhhh…don’t talk about that. We’re trying to recruit more women to Team Breastfeeding.

I say that’s a mistake and a disservice to women. This isn’t shirts versus skins – it’s just mothers and babies.

In fact, I say the opposite is true. I say the honesty has led to more breastfeeding. Talking about your personal experience with breastfeeding should ALWAYS be encouraged, no matter how successful or long that experience was. Every single conversation about breastfeeding normalizes it. It becomes just another thing we talk about when we’re discussing babies, like diapers and spit up and tiny socks and why are their nails so SHARP? I have talked about every single bit of my breastfeeding journey, from my giant engorged porn start boobs to using a nipple shield to dealing with thrush and finally, FINALLY having the kind of idyllic, peaceful nursing relationship the books tell you about. As far as I know, I have yet to scare someone so badly they vow to never nurse a baby.

What I DO know is many of my friends who struggled to breastfeed their first child are trying again with their second baby. They are nervous and worried and cautiously optimistic, but they are TRYING. A mother’s feelings about breastfeeding can be so fraught with both internal and external sources of guilt that stopping or quitting, even if it’s the best choice for their family, can be heartbreaking. I like to think my constant willingness to engage in honest boob-talk had a teeny tiny bit to do with their decision.

I am so so proud of these women, whether they try for one day or for a thousand. They are brave for putting it all out there (heh) again and they are all amazing moms. The bottom line is because mothers have found more information and more support and more honesty about breastfeeding there are more babies getting more breastmilk. And isn’t that what lactivism is all about?

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This post has been in my drafts folder for a few weeks while I worked out exactly how to say what I wanted. Just yesterday I saw the Support with Integrity Pledge posted on my friend Gina’s site. I’m thrilled to see over 1,000 people have signed it already and vowed to support breastfeeding moms without judgment or criticism. You can check it out and sign the pledge by clicking on the badge below:

You better go put on your Thanksgiving bib, cause I’m about to spew rainbows and sunshine all over you. This post is the literary equivalent of a unicorn frolicking with sugar-dipped kittens while eating an ice cream sundae topped with rock candy. Your teeth might actually rot from your head before you can even eat your pie. Better have the pie first. I can’t handle that on my conscience.

Today I am thankful for you. YOU. Reading this right now. You are my thankful today and every day. I am thankful for every single person who has ever read my silly words here on my silly blog. I am thankful for the amazing advice I’ve gotten, the friends I’ve made or reconnected with, the support, the encouragement, the happy thoughts, the prayers, and the nudges back from the edge on the days I don’t think I can take it anymore. I am thankful for the people who read every day and the ones who have only read one post. I am so luck to have found a village – even if it’s a virtual village – in my journey as a mother.You have supported causes important to my heart with your time and your wallet. Because you read I get to call myself a blogger (when I’m feeling brave) and a writer (when I’m feeling REALLY brave). There truly are not enough words for me to express how much I love my corner of the internet and it is ONE BAZILLION PERCENT because of you.

I am not the best blogger or the funniest or the coolest or the most generous or the kindest or the most fashionable or the healthiest or the most creative or any sort of superlative at all. But I would like to try to be better at being a friend. If there is anything I can ever do for you – YOU – please let me know.

I hope you’re having a wonderful Thanksgiving filled with as much food, football and family as you can possibly stand.

Thanks to Plum Organics for sponsoring my post about tips for baby feeding magic. What if you let baby choose what’s for dinner? Check out their cute “Quest for Yum!” video and see what happens!

The first time around I made all of my kid’s baby food. Well, technically. I took a class on how to steam and puree veggies (here’s a tip: you steam them, then you puree them. It doesn’t matter how. That’ll be $50) and I bought my weight in sweet potatoes and avocados.  I spent a whole weekend making, portioning and freezing a dozen different kinds and flavors. I was Supermom, provider of healthy organic meals! (more…)

1. Wiping the baby’s poop off the baby.

2. Wiping the baby’s poop off myself.

3. Wiping the baby’s poop off the dog after he eats the diaper I left on the carpet while I rush the toddler to the potty.

4. Wiping the toddler after he doesn’t quite make it to the potty because I was yelling at the dog.

5. Scrubbing the hot dog juice off the baby’s head after she dumps her brother’s plate on herself.

6. Scrubbing ketchup out of everything in the family room.

7. Wiping down the high chair so next time I can feed the toddler out of reach of the baby.

8. Washing faces before nap time so I don’t have to wash all the pillows AFTER nap time.

9. Picking up whatever that thing was the dog just threw up on the floor.

10. Giving myself a hooker bath because I haven’t taken a real shower in three days and right now I am choosing to nap instead.

Today, I am thankful for baby wipes.