{FAMILY} 4 Funny Parents Who Own The Internet

From witty remarks, to costumed shenanigans, to playful parodies, these parents are taking the Internet by storm! Not only do they keep me giggling as I navigate through the treacherous waters of parenting, but their light-hearted takes on life with kids make me feel as though I’m part of a community of like-minded moms and pops. If you’re not following them already, I highly recommend joining in on the fun! Here are my 4 favourite parents who are winning at Internet-ing:

1) Bumni Laditan (Honest Toddler)

With over 320K followers on Twitter, it’s obvious that this hot tot’s tweets have made an impression. After browsing through toddler mama Bumni Laditan’s blog posts, it’s obvious that her quick wit and talent for writing are the keys to her success. Now the author of two hilarious books – The Honest Toddler – A Child’s Guide To Parenting, and Toddlers Are A**holes: It’s Not Your Fault, Bunmi has made a career of what she once referred to as full-blown toddleritis. If I were to choose one favourite Internet mommy to share a glass of wine with, it would definitely be Bunmi. I’m pretty sure we’d become besties.

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2) Blake Wilson (Bat Dad)

Who says dads can’t be superheroes? Certainly not Blake AKA Batdad, who has swooped in as one of Youtube’s top parenting sensations with almost half a million channel subscribers, and over 4 million Facebook fans. His goofy one-liners and masked monkey business are definitely worth a watch. It’s no wonder the popular papa says that his mask was the best $10 he has ever spent!

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3) Penn & Kim Holderness (The Holderness Family)

The Holderness Family has perfected the parody with their cleverly-comical lyrics and giggle-worthy videos. With over 300K Youtube subscribers, it’s obvious that I’m not the only one who wishes this family would move in next door!  Their latest viral video I’m 40 (a parody of Justin Bieber’s I’m Sorry) has every parent nodding their heads in agreement as they watch The Holderness’ dance out partying life as parents. This talented duo definitely rule the roost when it comes to online entertainment.

3) Elle Walker, Meg Resnikoff, Brooke Mahan & Liane Mullin – What’s Up Moms 

This group of singing mommies knows how to have a good time, and with almost a million views on their latest Youtube video alone, their relatable, I’ve-been-there videos are obviously a hit. A regular addition to my Facebook feed, these moms are definitely resonating with their viewers.

 

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well I say it takes a virtual village of funny parents to make the adventures of parenting a whole lot more entertaining. Follow them all and enjoy a humorous break from the mundane.

Have I missed any funny Internet parents that put a smile on your face?

{FAMILY} 8 Things That Made Me “The Worst Mom EVER” (Today)

Along with having an 8-year-old daughter comes an elevated level of sass. As she tries to navigate through her pre- pre-teen years and all of the emotions that accompany this fragile age, her strong will and desire for independence are unparalleled, and her emotional ebbs and flows completely a mystery to us as parents.

And as the cherry on top – she is idolized by her 5-year-old brother, whose stubbornness and desire for attention are equally as prominent. The two siblings have created the ultimate duo – rivalling each other some days, and other days teaming up to battle the wicked force that is “mom”.

And always on the sidelines is my littlest. Forever wanting to keep up with her older siblings, she mimics everything they do or say – duplicating and elevating her siblings’ frustrations towards their “unfair mom”.

If they are playing together nicely, I am the enemy who “ruins all the fun”, and if they are battling each other, no matter whose side I support, I become the “meanest mom” for not supporting the other. I’ve learned to accept the fact that I just can’t win – that I’m going to be known as the “worst mom EVER” for everything that I do. And I’m ok with that, because I know that one day it will pass. Right?

worst mom ever

That time when they made ninja outfits – so they could spy on me and ninja kick me.

In the meantime, here are just some of the things that I’ve done today that have earned me the title of “worst mom EVER” in the eyes of my children:

1) I asked them to get dressed for school. -> my 5-year-old son:”MOM! You ALWAYS ruin all the fun. You’re the MEANEST.”

2) I gave my 8-year-old daughter a little pat on the back when I dropped her off at school (respectfully honouring her wishes for me to stop kissing her in front of her friends) -> met with incessant eye rolls, and a loud “PSSHHT Bye MOM.”

3) I offered my youngest her favourite soother when she was acting fussy. -> she threw it at my face and yelled “NO!” and then begged for her “soo-soo” as if it hadn’t just been offered.

4) I offered to put a freshly-made blueberry muffin in my daughter’s lunch for her recess snack. -> met with “MOM! I don’t even LIKE muffins.” (funny, she did last week…)

5) I wouldn’t let my daughter skip her ballet class after school to go on a play date, but offered for her to have one the following day. -> “ugh MOM! I don’t even LIKE ballet. You’re ruining my LIFE by not letting me have a play date.”

6) My two oldest were fighting over which show to watch after school, so I suggested that we turn off the TV and do something else. -> suddenly on the same side: “Mom, you’re the WORST! Why can’t we just watch a show and relax after a busy day at school?”

7) I suggested that my son wear a rain jacket to his soccer practice so that he doesn’t get soaked. -> “I will NEVER. That’s the worst idea EVER.”

8) When asked what we were having for dinner, I responded “I’m going to bar-b-que some steaks and make rice and broccoli.” -> all 3 children “YUCK! That’s not my favourite. Gross.” (littlest just chimed in with “No, no, no” while shaking her head).

Don’t get me wrong, these comments and objections weren’t said without reprimand.

I can remember being in my children’s shoes, and I know that it is a passing phase of self-discovery and desired independence. But, seriously. Whose kids are these?

 

Tooth Fairy Torture

Last night my daughter lost her 7th tooth. As I flashed my best grin and cheered her on with enthusiasm while she recounted her valiant efforts to pull her wiggly tooth from its roots, my thoughts went straight to my late-evening plans, and how they were officially ruined.

I remember writing about how I would never succumb to the over-the-top Tooth Fairy antics. Boy was I wrong. The problem is, as much as I would love to drop a quarter under my daughter’s pillow and call it a job well done, friends talk. And there’s nothing more depressing than seeing your sweet little firstborn teary eyed because her best friend’s Tooth Fairy left her a pony and made real-life magic happen right in her bedroom. Ok, I may be exaggerating a little, but seriously, the things that my daughter hears about from her friends at school leave me pulling my hair out as I try to live up to unrealistic expectations.

When she lost her first tooth, she received $5 in her Tooth Fairy pillow, and that was it. She was ecstatic. By the loss of her second tooth, rumours had been swirling that if you left a cup of water by your bed, the Tooth Fairy would change its colour to coincide with the fairy’s colours. Fine, coloured water, done. For the lost teeth that have followed, the antics had evolved to leaving questionnaires for the Tooth Fairy to complete, water for changing colours, a tooth in a special pillow, and a drawing for the Tooth Fairy to take back to fairyland with her.  It’s just too much!

Tooth Fairy

The stress that comes with entering a sleeping child’s room to replace a tooth with a coin is enough to make my head spin, but mom knows no fear like trying to complete a full questionnaire (in whimsical scripture might I add, cause gosh forbid the Fairy has similar writing to mommy’s), dropping food colouring into a shot glass full of water, and leaving money tucked into a pin-sized hole, all while trying not to startle your little one awake.

The worst part of all? Trying to stay awake while you wait for your nocturnal child to fall into a deep enough sleep to complete the list of daunting tasks. Tooth Fairy visits are complete torture. I just pray that the next tooth waits for a few months so I can afford the time and money it takes to make magic happen once more.

 

 

 

Epic Quotes From My Angsty Teen Years

My closest friends and family roll their eyes at me whenever I share a story and say that it ‘happened in grade 9’. They claim that everything I talk about ‘happened in grade 9’. They mock me, but it really was a monumental time in my teen years.

Grade 9 was the year that I fell into a full-blown stage of teen angst. That stage when you hate your parents, your boy crush doesn’t know you exist, your friends are your world, and your self confidence is at an all-time low. You’re consumed by how much your life sucks, and how no one understands you. You’d do anything to fit in, and you long for nothing more than to find yourself.

Grade 9 was a long long time ago for me now, but some of these quotes, shows, songs and moments, will stick with me forever. Because these moments – these epic quotes from my angsty teen years – bring me right back to grade 9. And they remind me of my ‘so called life’ as a teen.

My So Called Life

Long before she played Carrie in Homeland, Claire Danes epitomized my teen self in what will always remain my favourite 90s show of all time – My So Called Life. Swoon-worthy scenes of Jordan Catalano – his perfect coif grazing the brow of his crystal blue eyes as he pulled on Angela’s heartstrings (and ours). One does not get over Jordan Catalano. Not ever.

my-so-called-life-j-leto-and-claire-danes

Ugh, she tried to play it so cool in this scene. Poor, poor girl.

The Cranberries

To this day, whenever I hear an old song by The Cranberries, I am immediately transported to my best friend’s bedroom, where we used to sit together and cry as we sang along to the angsty lyrics of songs like Linger and Zombie.

I’m sure our parents just loved our off-key whining at all hours of the night.

teen angst

Pulp Fiction

The entire soundtrack from Pulp Fiction brings me back to the early 90s – everyone had the soundtrack – and I played this CD on repeat (yes, I said CD). Tarantino was a movie producing superstar – responsible for not only Pulp Fiction, but also Reservoir Dogs, and Natural Born Killers. There are so many great quotes that I could pull from this movie, but this one summarizes the teen rebel that I thought I was at the time.

teen angst

Clueless

While I thought I knew everything, I was completely and utterly clueless. And this quote was basically the worst insult you could possibly give to a clueless, emotional, angsty teenaged girl like me at the time.

teen angst

Reality Bites

Winona Ryder pretty much owned the 90s.

teen angst

And so did this movie.

Lisa Loeb

That little black dress, those thick-rimmed glasses and those lyrics! Nothing got me through my make-believe heart break like Lisa’s words in her chart-topping hit Stay.

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90210

The real Beverly Hills 90210. So many epic scenes and memorable moments, but none like this one. My best friend and I still reenact this scene from time to time.

Wait for it…

Brenda: “I was always taught that if it looks like a duck, and walks like a duck..”

Kelly: “Go to hell!” (storms out)

EPIC!

Do you have any epic shows, songs, scenes or quotes from your teen years that you want to share?

The Truth About How I Broke My Toe

I’d like to preface this post by saying that I get very little sleep. I’d also like to make it known that sleepiness causes accidents. It’s a fact. So when I tell you this story – when I confess the truth about how I really broke my toe, be nice.

Alright, you can laugh out loud at me – I did. Because when something this ridiculous happens, you might as well laugh it off and tell your friends about it, right? So here it goes…

I had been working on a few work-related projects on my computer, when I realized that it was almost time for my mom to come over and watch my kids (a rare parents night out was on the horizon – distraction #1). I quickly plopped my baby into her exersaucer (because, baby #3), and pulled out the beast that is my built-in vacuum cleaner, ready to power-clean like I do when expecting guests in my home.

Baby was screeching like a pterodactyl so I was rushing to get the job done. Barefoot, hungry, and overtired, I glanced sideways at my squawking child while thrusting the vacuum with all of my force.

To and fro, side glance, to and fro.

I forcefully pulled the vacuum back towards me while my eyes were focused on the baby, and as I heard the crunching sound of my toes getting mangled into the suctioning vortex of the vacuum head, my life flashed before my eyes. I immediately fell to the floor like Will Ferrell when he gets hit in the jugular with a tranquilizer gun in the movie Old School, cursing and gagging from the painful impact of what had just happened.

It sounded exactly like I had vacuumed up small pieces of Lego. The mangling, crunching sound of my toes snap crackle pop-ing as I fell. I was sure I had broken each and every toe, and that I would never walk again.

As as I rocked in agony, the first thought that came to my head was – “I am such an IDIOT! Who DOES that!?”

I paused as my eyes welled up, and then I burst out laughing. As tears streamed down my face, I cackled like a wicked witch. After a few minutes of hysteria had passed, I cocked my head to the side to see my judging child, staring blankly at me with disappointment in her eyes.

I survived (physically anyways). But the problem with having a broken toe is that it is an injury that is hard to hide. As I hobbled up to my daughter’s school the next day, a fellow mom called out my name. “Hey Bianca!” she called out from across the school grounds, “What did you do to your foot!?” I waited for her to get closer, flashed an awkward smile, and replied, “The other guy did it.”

She looked at me, puzzled.

As always, I had failed at the delivery of a common saying (I had meant to say, “You should see the other guy!”).

I’m a terrible liar, so I told her the truth – that I had sucked up my toe while vacuuming, and that my pinky toe was blackened and broken.

I watched as she burst with laughter, and then covered her mouth, and then frowned sympathetically, and then returned to laughing again.

“I know,” I replied. “It’s ok to laugh, I did.”

So there you have it. The truth hurts sometimes – but nothing like the sting of a broken toe, or the bruise of my ego whenever I have to explain what really happened to my toe.

how i broke my toe

 

 

10 Punny Valentine’s Day Cards For Kids

While I’m enamoured with the beautifully handmade projects that grace the boards of my Pinterest friends and blogger besties, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m just not a crafty mom. I don’t DIY – I buy.  And while I may not know my way around crafting scissors and punchies, I do appreciate a good play on words. I like to think of writing as my creative outlet – my craft. So while others are sharing their carefully-cropped Valentine’s Day decor, I thought I would share with you 10 Valentine’s cards that gave me a giggle. Puns totally intended.

1) Yoda Best. Thanks to the hubs, my kids have become big Star Wars fans, so this one gave our whole family a geeky giggle.

2) You’re The Obi-Wan For Me. Also Star Wars punny.

(Note: follow the link to download this one and print it at home)

3) Mint To Be Friends. Refreshingly punny.

4) I Only Have Eye For You. Arrr you going to be my Valentine? Endless pirate puns..

5) You’re The Bomb. (Crafty! You can make this too, follow the “Source” link for directions)

6) Love You A Latte. Mama likey. (Printable/DIY – follow the link)

7) Meant to Bee Friends. Because this one is totally on-brand. (Printable via link)

8) I’m Crazy Pho You. Every time I read this, Madonna’s Crazy For You pops into my head…

9) It’s So Mice To Be Your Friend. Cheesy, I know. (see what I did there?)

How-to link below.

10) I Hope You Have A Kickin’ Valentine’s Day. Because ninja. (another printable)

And because I’m on a roll, here are 2 of my all-time favourite cheesy puns (both based on 70s/80s songs):

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I’m joining some blogger friends on a homemade Valentine’s Day craft train – sharing giveable, receivable and edible Valentine’s crafts with our readers. Follow the links below and spread the love!

Mama Papa Bubba – Handmade Valentine’s for Kids
The Write Balance – Delicious Valentine’s Day Treats
Little Miss Mama – Handmade Gifts For Friends

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Why Moms Need Grocery Store Wine Bars

I know that I’m not the only mom who “has to rush out to the grocery store” on Saturday nights just to get away from the happy chaos at home for a little while. When the kids are all washed up, dressed in their jammies and watching a quiet show before bedtime, I hurriedly announce that I have to run out to the store to “pick up some milk”, and I’m off.

I turn up the tunes in the car (90s rap music with explicit lyrics because hey, I don’t have any kids in the car), and I drive as slowly as the enforcements will allow without pulling me over. I pull into a stall at the parking lot of the grocery store, turn my key halfway, and settle into the driver’s seat with the music still playing while I scroll through my Facebook and Twitter feeds on my iPhone. I roll my head back and sigh a breath of relief as I shuffle out of the car door, grab a small stack of faded reusable bags, and head into the grocery store.

I haven’t arrived equipped with a shopping list, because quite honestly, I don’t really need anything. But I can’t go home empty-handed, so I grab a cart and stroll through the aisles like one would stroll along the beach for the first time when arriving at a sunny destination on the first day of vacation.

It doesn’t matter that I’m wearing imitation Uggs and yoga pants and a t-shirt with a hole in it, lightly splattered with baby spit up and dinner leftovers, because I’m at a grocery store.

I quietly whistle along to the tune of the elevator music that’s playing in the background, and shuffle through the kids’ clothing aisles. I glance at my watch, exhale what feels like my last breath before diving off a cliff, pay for my milk and other unneeded items, and head back to the car.

Wouldn’t it be nice if, instead of wasting my time and energy pretending to need something from aisle 7, I could pop on over to the Wine Bar at the back of the grocery store? It would be a comforting, welcoming little spot where moms like me, dressed in our midnight comfies, makeup-free and eager to chat, could settle in for a glass of wine or two while we’re “picking up milk”.

Wine

Charcuterie and gourmet cheese plates would be served as we clink our large red wine goblets and share stories of blowout diapers and husbands who just don’t understand. Or if I’m being honest, wine served in plastic cups with bags of chips would even make my day – I’m not picky.

And we’d leave big tips and would be the most pleasant customers, because we’re easy to please. Because this one hour away from home would be about us for once. No laundry to be folded, whiny voices to answer to, or dogs to be walked. Just wine, friends, and good times.

If such a place existed, would you meet me there for a drink?

 

Third Child Problems

The name’s Cloey, and while I might only be 3.5 months old, I have a lot to say. Too bad no one’s listening to me because I’m the third child.

third child

My mom’s busy right now (big surprise). She’s combing my big sister’s hair into a slick bun for ballet class and nattering on and on about how important it is for her to write sentences in her journal since school’s out due to some “teacher’s strike” (whatever that is). My dad’s off kicking the soccer ball around with my brother in the front yard, and my dog, well she doesn’t even care that I exist. Since no one’s paying attention to me, I thought I’d take a break from batting around the stupid toys that dangle above my face on the mat that I’m always lying on (I can’t really control my arms so I’m not sure why they keep torturing me like that anyways). Instead, I thought I’d take over my mom’s “blog” (wtf, sounds like something you’d find in my diaper) and share some thoughts on what it’s really like to be the third child. Spoiler alert: it’s no midnight boob snack.

When I came into this world, I was greeted by 4 sets of sparkly brown eyes, oochy-coochy sounds, and wide grins. I thought I had it made – so much attention, how could I not love it? But things have changed in the last 3.5 months. Ya I still feel the love, but I know it’s only temporary. I could go on forever about how tough my life is, but since I can hear my mom packing up the diaper bag, I’m gonna make this quick.

third child

5 things that suck about being the third child:

1) I often wear my pyjamas all. day. long. I see all of these trendy kid fashionistas rocking it on Instagram. Kids in mini fedoras and distressed jeans, wearing scarves around their necks like they rule the world. And then there’s me, wearing the same puke-stained polka-dotted sleeper that I wore to bed last night. One word mommy: accessorize.

2) I have no toys. I know my sister and brother lived a life of luxury, swimming in a sea of newly-purchased, age-appropriate toys. I, on the other hand, am left to play with a faded excuse for a rubber giraffe (I think it was once one of those awesome “Sophie le Giraffe” things I’ve seen). Oh, and a moist spit up cloth that they tuck into my hand for me to chew on. Thanks mom, that’s what I really wanted (not).

3) I’m ALWAYS in the car. If I have to get buckled into that stupid five-harness bucket seat one more time, I swear I’m gonna spit up in my mom’s face (actually, I might just  do that anyways, for shits and giggles, teehee). I swear, every time I’m finishing off a sippa nook nook and getting dozy (there’s nothing like a milk coma. I’m serious, nothing.), it’s off to the car so my siblings can go to school, dance, soccer, swimming, the library. No one ever asks me where I want to go.

4) I spend more time looking at the back of an iPhone than I do looking at my mommy’s face. I’ve made a game of this – I stare and stare at her with a blank look on my face, just waiting. When she glances at me over the top of her stupid phone to make sure I’m still breathing, I put on my biggest smile and reward her with a little giggle, just to show her what she’s missing. It works 2/3 times.

5) I don’t get any peace and quiet. For once, it would be nice to just fall into a deep milk-enduced coma without the shrill shrieks of my sister, or the loud roars of my brother, or the barking (oh the barking!) from my dog. Dude, I just want to take an uninterrupted nap, is that too much to ask for? I mean, I’m a baby, it’s what I’m supposed to do.

So there you have it – my life in a nutshell. And while my family is busy “learning” and “talking” and “eating solid foods” together, I’m going to be studying everything they do, and learning a thing or two from this genius. And when I pop out my first word and take my first step, they had better be ready. That. Is. All.

Cloey xo

 

Dear Mastitis: Don’t.

Mast-effing-itis.

When you’re pregnant for the first time, no one tells you about it. Perhaps on purpose. It could be because women who have had it before are so haunted by the experience that even uttering the word “mastitis” brings on dark and disturbing flashbacks. Because even the thought of it elicits feelings of fear, anxiety, and toe-curling pain.

Full-fledged mastitis is no laughing matter. It can be worse than a bad flu, and in severe cases like actress Jaime Pressly’s experience, it can even lead to a 7.5 hour surgery to remove abscesses and breast tissue that have formed as a result of an extreme case of untreated mastitis.

mastitis

What is it? Mastitis is what happens when milk builds up in your breast (often referred to as a “blocked duct”, but isn’t actually a physical blockage) causing inflammation, and even infection. It amazes me that something that sounds so simple, could be so physically torturous.

Side Note: do NOT Google “mastitis images”. You can’t unsee some of the images that come up. I’m serious, JUST. DON’T.

It is said that one in ten breastfeeding moms experience mastitis. Based on those odds, you probably think you’re safe, right? Not necessarily. I’ve had it three times – once with each child (so far), and not just the mild version.

A few weeks ago, we went on a little out-of-town jaunt to visit family. On our first night away, while I was nursing, I noticed a little tender spot on my breast. I knew immediately what was coming, and I lost sleep over it that night.

The thing about mastitis is that it starts slowly, and then progresses at the speed of light. You flirt with a little tenderness, and then it slaps you in the face. All of a sudden it hurts to have your t-shirt graze the agonizingly painful spot. You feel light-headed, and start to shiver uncontrollably. A fever comes on, and nausea creeps up your throat. This may not always be the case, but this is how it has always been for me.

Thankfully, there are ways to get rid of the torturous infection. And while mastitis is worse than any of the other things I hate about nursing, it too shall pass.

 

 

 

5 Things I Hate About Breastfeeding

Nursing is a way to connect and bond with your baby – to nurture her and to provide her with the nutrients she needs while instilling in her a sense of comfort and security. Breastfeeding is a beautiful thing, I get it.

But I’m going to be honest with you, it’s not all shits and giggles (not for me anyways). In fact, there are some things that I loathe about my lovely lady lumps becoming milking teats for my ravenous baby.

1) Becoming “The Hunchback of Nursing Dame”.

I used to have the dainty posture of a ballerina. Yes, my many years of hunching over a computer keyboard may have contributed to my slightly-curved stature, but breastfeeding has advanced my stance to a full-on hunchback. It is simply impossible for me to bring breast to mouth without curving my back into the shape of a semicircle.

2) Hearing “Mommy Cloey’s crying, she needs you to milk her!” from my kids – on an hourly basis.

For some reason people who are holding, in close proximity to, or even aware of the presence of a nursing baby, feel the need to educate the mother on when that baby is hungry.

With the first squawk or crank of the neck it’s “ohhh she’s hungry..” or in the case of my kids, “she needs mommy to milk her.” Well guess what world: mommy cows always know when their calves need to be milked. The reality is, we either: a) have just fed baby and know it’s more likely a soiled diaper or a desire to be held in a new position, b) we are avoiding nursing because we don’t feel comfortable doing so in public (see #3 below), or c) we are trying to set a feeding schedule for our cluster-feeding offspring.

breastfeeding

3) Fear of showing my breast-ginas to the world.

I’m not an exhibitionist. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. I still change in the private stalls at public pools, I feel awkward in tops with plunging necklines, and I even keep my bikini top on at topless beaches. Prude? No. Modest? Maybe.

I’m almost as uncomfortable with flashing my nips as I would be if I were flashing my va-jay-jay in a public place. I will go out of my way to hide my areolas from the world my friends.

4) Wearing a wardrobe based on boob accessibility.

I’ve finally pumped out that little life that has occupied my body for 9 months, I’ve lost most of the baby weight, and I’m finally ready to leave the confines of my home. Too bad I can’t wear anything because I’m nursing!

Maternity clothes no longer fit – the chest and belly fabric has been stretched thin, deforming every top and dress in my closet. I can’t wear my pre-baby clothes either because most of them don’t provide access to the boob. So I’m restricted to t-shirts and stretch pants. Sexy.

5) Wishing for an epic latch.

I don’t care what anyone else says, nursing hurts. I’m on my third baby and this fact has not changed. In the beginning, when baby has first arrived and is ravenously searching for her first sip of mommy’s nectar, it effing HURTS. Like curl-your-toes, squish-your-eyes-tightly-shut, clench-your-fists hurts. And while that initial pain eventually subsides, the fear of a bad latch will haunt you.  For me, the feeling of having a baby feed off my sensitive lady bits never feels soothing or enjoyable. I wince every time she opens her mouth and eagerly approaches my milk bag.

But despite all of the discomfort, I can say this: breastfeeding is worth it when your baby releases her suction, relaxes her clenched fists, and falls into a lovely milk coma like this:

breastfeeding