Father Funnies Friday

A Mother's Achilles' Heel

So lately I have noticed that the older my daughter gets, the more different my husband and I are in our parenting ideas. We started on the same line of the same page months ago, and now it seems that we are drifting to separate pages. These pages are still across from each other in the book, but are getting pretty close to flipping away from one another.

I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out why we are having so many differences in opinion these days, and I think I have finally boiled it down to one thing: breastfeeding. I guess that actually makes it two things...

Before I share why breastfeeding is sending my husband and I in separate parenting directions, I just want to clarify something. Formula-feeding moms, I respect you. Just because I am writing a post on breastfeeding does not mean that I do not want you here sharing laughs. As long as your baby is well taken care of, I don't care what you feed it. (I sincerely hope that someone will send me their funny formula stories for me to share, so that moms of all kinds are represented here.)

Back to my story now. Breastfeeding for several months now has led to a very strong and special bond between my daughter and I. Sure, as a working mother I pump. My baby is well-acquainted with a bottle, and is even transitioning to a sippy cup. However, that does not change the fact that when I am within her nose's or eye's reach that she wants me and only me as a food source. I guess she simply prefers the fountain. Fine by me. I'd honestly much rather feed her then bother with pumping. My baby is also at the age where she is eating solids, so her milk consumption is down during the day. But right before bed, she becomes ravenous. She is also teething, so she is a little cranky. She wants me and only me. I cannot help it.

My dear, sweet hubby thinks that I can just put her in her crib with some music and a teething ring, and she will just go to sleep on her own. "Let her cry for a minute." ARE YOU KIDDING ME? First, I just can't. Mentally, it drives me instantly insane. Props to the mommas who can let their baby cry, I just can't. It makes me want to cry. Second, my chest can't. I have tried hundreds of metaphors to get this point across to my husband, but he still doesn't seem to comprehend. How can I explain it?

A crying baby is to a breastfeeding woman as an arrow is to Achille's heel, enough said.

XOXO- Barnyard Baby Momma