Santa: To Be(lieve) or Not To Be(lieve)?

Namas-HEY!

 

As the holiday approaches (we are currently down to 3 days and a wakeup according to Princess K), the Santa debates are exploding. I typically avoid this particular popular parenting fracas, but this year I had a conversation and it made me want to write about it.

 

My opinion on Santa is not the most popular, because it involves reality.

 

Hold up! Don’t judge me…yet.

 

I approach Santa and his holiday buddies from a practical standpoint. I believe in being honest and upfront with my kids, and I avoid perpetuating any fantasy that would damage their trust in me later.

 

Behhh, to that unpopular reality thing. *sighs*

 

I have always been really particular about which fairy tales I encourage for the kids. I want them to have a wonderful, glowing childhood…but I also want them to be rooted in reality.

 

The reality for us is, Santa is a wonderful story. The idea behind it is beautiful—a benevolent character delivering joy throughout the world for one magical night. This story is fun, magical, and inspiring. It’s a tradition to read it and even watch the cartoons about it (we love Dr. Seuss, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” especially) all throughout the Christmas season.

 

Why do we do all that only to not “encourage” belief?

 

Well, it goes along the lines of my parenting philosophy.

 

I don’t teach them what to think—I only teach them how to think.

 

Princess K no longer believes Santa might bring gifts to her, or anyone else. She has not for at least seven years. She is a keen kid and promptly figured out the myth. One day we were building a gingerbread house and out of nowhere, my little bird informed me that Santa was not a person but a story.

 

I panicked, internally. I wasn’t prepared to dash her little hopes. I didn’t want her to grow up too fast. I didn’t want to ruin the holiday magic for her! For pizza’s sake, she was four! Realistically, I thought we had a few more years of reindeer, elves, and whimsy.

 

When we had the conversation, I asked her why she thought he wasn’t real. She told me she figured it out because reindeer don’t fly or have light-up noses. (I told you—she’s a keen little bird.)

 

I listened to her thoughts and decided then and there, I had to level with her. I had to be honest and let her know she was, in essence, correct.

 

Thankfully, I had never told her to believe in Santa anyway.

Note: I am always careful about what I tell them--they have to trust me to guide them. Call it overanalytical if you need to, to feel better about yourself, but I don't lie to them. Not even for holidays. Maybe especially for holidays.

It was a fun holiday game, and now she had figured out the card trick. While I was a little saddened (regardless of how practical we are as parents, it’s always a little sad when they become less enthralled by magic in favor of sometimes-boring actuality), I needed this to be a teaching moment. My feelings couldn’t cloud my action, because in this moment she was clearly, distinctly, blatantly trusting me.

 

…so I let her know. I told her that yes, Santa is a story. The point of that story is to inspire and remind us all to be good, and to share love and joy on Christmas.

 

“Why presents? Why not for adults too, since Santa only gives stuff for kids?”

 

“Santa represents the good and right in us all. It is good and right to share, and for that one night Santa brings happiness to kids all over the world. When kids are happy, parents are happy too.”

 

“He doesn’t go all over the world.” Skeptical, hopeful.

 

“Happiness goes all over the world in the blink of an eye. We just have to send it forth.”

 

“So Santa is real, just not a person. Ideas are real, but not touchable. Is that it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I also made sure to clue her in to a major point: Some kids believe Santa explicitly. That is, they think he is a real person, with a real workshop and real elves. They believe he goes around the world that one special night and brings all the gifts to them and their friends and families.

 

…and there isn’t a thing wrong with that. I told her she was not to crack their eggs, i.e. tell them their beloved Santa was in fact just a story. No one did that for her, and she was absolutely not to do it to anyone else.

 

Fast forward a couple years and another kid.

 

I still have never mentioned Santa in any big way to our son. He’s enjoying the holiday stuff in a big way this year, as he’s old enough to participate in the crafts and games that make the season more special—decorating ugly sweater cookies, watching movies, and telling Christmas stories before bed with a cup of cocoa.

 

He has seen the big guy in stores. He even dances with the animatronic Santa we see in Walmart. He likes Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. His current favorite is to hear the Grinch story while eating the marshmallows from our cocoa mugs.

 

We haven’t really pressed the issue of Santa because one, it spares him the disenchantment of finding out the beloved character is just that—a character created for a story. Two, he is enjoying the holiday magic as we feel a child should—uninfluenced, untainted, and unbothered; I don’t want to mess that up with my projection of “ideal.” As he gets older, he can decide if he wants to write letters to Santa and leave out those treats. If he chooses, we will play the game with him just as we did his sister. If he opts out, we will make sure he knows not to dash the magic for his friends who may think differently.

 

So… don’t be so quick to judge when a parent says, “My kids don’t believe in Santa.” (After all, exactly how holidaisical is that of you? What part of your Santa system says that people who don't observe the same thing, have to be bad?)

 

It isn’t always that we’ve scrooged our kids or negated a part of their childhoods. It isn't like we woke up one day and decided to spoil the holidays by revealing one of parenting's worst kept secrets. (I promise you, we are not that bored...more importantly, we are not that evil.) Sometimes we have an extra keen kid who puts two and two together. Sometimes it’s not of our culture to indulge such.

 

But all the time, it’s our choice and our choice alone. So...

 

To be(lieve) or not to be(lieve)?

 

Purely, solely, and only up to you and yours.

 

As for me and mine? We enjoy the best parts of the holiday, minus the pressure to give life to a character who, at his purest and truest, is simply a mascot of the spirit of the season.

 

My kids don’t believe in Santa.

 

My kids do believe in the holiday spirit.

 

Whether they’re into the Santa thing or not, I hope yours do too!

 

Namaste.

--Taye K.

Clash of the Cultures: How We Avoid Over-Indulging

Namaste!


It's a week out from Christmas. Like, seriously. More accurately, five days and a wakeup.


For most of us, this excitement has been building all year long. We've shopped, we've decorated, and we've prepared. We've saved, we've bought more, we've cooed, cleaned, and categorized. Christmas is the main event.


...well, usually.


As you know, Family Namaste is multicultural. We have two calendars to live by, so by the time Christmas rolls around we've all but fizzled out on the whole holiday thing.


No holidays are boring, and we enjoy all the magic of each one. However...by the time we observe 50 or more Hindu festivals. Then birthdays. Then anniversaries (our wedding anniversary...our store opening anniversaries...various wedding anniversaries and birthdays within our extended family [which may or may not be over 500 people now, with nearly 150 of those living within driving distance]...) and manage invites to celebrate others with out friends and colleagues, it should be no surprise that we are sometimes a little less than holidaisical by the time December 25th rolls around.


With all these holidays and festivals come presents.


Yes. Toys, trinkets, jewelry, money...it gets pretty hinky around here sometimes, because it feels like each relative tries to outdo the next. Our kids are in a unique position, but it can be a delicate balance.


The K-kids should, by most accounts, be insufferable little brats.


The moment I took vows with Hubby Namaste, I made him promise that our kids would never be entitled, spoiled, or overindulged. We would do what we could and they would definitely have a good (read: practically charmed) life, but we would not send more insufferables into the world. (You know--the bratty, entitled, insufferable humans who refuse to believe the sun doesn't rise and set on them.) They would benefit from our success for sure, but they would not mistake our generosity for their birthright. Nope.


But how could we not allow their various grandparents, aunts, uncles, and godparents to spoil them?! Isn't that the point of a large family and seriously, what parent doesn't want their little bear(s) to be adored and adulated by everyone within their scope?


*raises hand*


I grew up in a tiny town, in a big nice house with a huge yard. I didn't have electronics. I had some pets, a bicycle, and a designated area to run wild in each day, provided my chores were done and my grades were up to par. Across the pond, Hubby Namaste grew up on a beautiful island, in a beautiful home, with is own set of pets and privileges.


Both had strict parents. Both were probably more spoiled than necessary.


...and both grew up hoping to glean wisdom from the best parts of our upbringing and combine them so our kids could literally have the best childhood ever.


They couldn't have the best childhood ever, if they were horrid brats. So what we came up with is simple: four little rules about gifts that keep everyone happy.


1. Clean out.


Before we go shopping for a holiday or birthday, we do a deep cleaning. We purge all things not used and donate them to make sure other children get to be as happy as the K-Kids.


Note: We do this with the cooperation of our kids, not covertly. They do have the right to keep any item if it's important to them. We also talk with them about the next thing...


2. To whom much is given, much is required.


We can't tactfully curtail all the gift-giving, nor do we want to. But we do make sure our kids behavior is worthy of celebrating. Each kid has an age-appropriate code of conduct to adhere to. The most basic of which includes using our manners, keeping our rooms neat, and completing our chores and assignments. If our kids behave as the pleasant, polite little people we have raised them to be, we have no problem letting aunties/uncles/grandparents/godparents/colleagues spoil them a tad.


If they don't behave like the pleasant, polite little people we have raised them to be...


Well, those little people don't get presents. They get another chance to behave, and if that doesn't work they get a correction or two.


3. Gratitude is the attitude.


 Before they can eat it, play with it, wear it, or otherwise enjoy it, they must write a thank you for it. No exception. Even my toddler is required to scribble a thank-you note.


Strict? Crazy?


Maybe. But when someone takes time from their day to give the K-Kids a gift, treat, or even just a simply warm thought, you can hurry up and believe the K-Kids will be taking time from their day to acknowledge that and show the proper gratitude. A little practice now will almost certainly ensure a good habit later. Princes Namaste already knows the routine, and I find t absolutely adorable when she helps her brother with his notes.


Everyone adores those sweet, polite kids. Most don't realize just how easy it can be to foster those traits.


4. It's. A. Privilege.


The main thing we try to instill in them is that all this, is simply a privilege.


It isn't their right. It isn't guaranteed that it will always be this way. It should be appreciated, not expected.


Sometimes we as parents get so busy trying to give the kids everything we never had, that we forget to give them what matters. In my eyes, what matters is way deeper than a room full of toys they only sporadically use or a closet full of clothes they will probably never wear more than once.


They are our absolute sun and moon, and we cherish the little fingerprints they leave on my good china a well as the pitter patter of their little feet in the hallway.


Because we adore them so deeply, we feel it's or duty to make sure they go into the world armed with the manners, decorum, and dispositions needed to help make it a better place. We give them stuff because we can, but we give them boundaries limits, and laws because we must.


Namaste!


-- Taye K.

HoliTAYÈ Cheer: Toddler Gifts I Went Ridiculously Gaga Over!

Namas-HEY!

Still practicing my new greeting. It sounds a little weird, but I kinda dig it.

Anyhoo...let's jump right in.

It's Christmastime! That means shopping. Personally, I love it. Target snafu aside, I've had so much fun picking toys this year for Baby Namastè. He's not quite a baby now, but he'll always be mine. He's gotten so big since last year. He does so much now--he can talk, he no longer walks like a drunken baby man, and toys are more than just things to chew on now.

As such, I wanted to break down my favorite gifts this year for my little guy. 

Keep in mind, my little bear is 21 months old, so the gift setup I'm dishing on is stuff I love that would be best for that age set, from 20 months to about 26 months.(He performs cognitively a few months ahead--but to balance it, he is still a shrimp physically.)

I'm a huge fan of learning toys (both traditional educational toys and those that encourage free play and idea expansion) and books. What's a playroom without a cozy reading corner? Sad. A playroom without a cozy reading corner is sad.

Baboochi Plush and Book

The Baboochi is my absolute favorite toy of 2017, period. If you remember, I got to do an interview with the creator of this adorable furry blue fuzzy-wuzzy. Laura C. Byrne instantly became my favorite children's author. Look at it. Just look! (Photo used with permission and is the sole property of Laura C. Byrne.)

See, the Baboochi doesn't talk or light up or any of that stuff.

No.

What the Baboochi does is far more magical.

In addition to making stroller time cool... (Pic taken in August, shortly after we arrived in Albany.)




The Baboochi is designed to be a kid's (or adult's!) best furry blue friend. (I won't disclose the story, but the premise of this adorable little guy is to teach our kids some positive lessons, as well as help reinforce those in a fun, relatable way.) Baboochi encourages sharing, using good manners, exercising good stewardship, and being a good friend. This little guy is all about positivity, and I am all about this little guy for my little guy. Currently Baboochi is helping my little guy learn all about keeping his room neat, and about remembering to brush his teeth.

Sure, hubby and I are no slouches and we can easily impart these lessons--it's just more fun when we include our Baboochi. It makes what would be a power struggle, a non-struggle.

Imagination plus positive behavior modeling plus adorable? Sign me up immediately. I can't say enough about it without saying too much an spoiling the story, so I'll stop gushing here and give you the websites so you can find out on your own.

Here.  -    Here.

Pros: Because the Baboochi is a free-play toy, kids can really get into it. For example, my older daughter likes creating adventures for her little brother, featuring Baboochi as his sidekick. The story allows the Baboochi to have its own personality of sots, but where they truly shine is that this toy can be a major comfort to a child during a life transition. When we first got ours, we were making a 3-hour move. AN unfamiliar place, plus the absence of all our son's familiar faces and places? Eek! But we made each day into a sort of adventure with his Baboochi. We also included Baboochi in his potty training, and now Baboochi is a part of the Operation: Big Brother endeavor. True, the positivity comes mostly from parents at first--but that's how life works. We imprint our ideas and beliefs into our children! Baboochi helps out by being a tiny blue reminder.

Cons: NOT having this toy and story in your life. Seriously, get it. Get it soon. I would venture to say don't even wait for Christmas, because they are likely to sell out.

Rating: 5 of 5 stars.

Would we purchase again? Is the sky blue! Without a doubt. I mean, how often does there exist a toy that embodies everything you want to teach your child?! I know it's still us doing the legwork, but between the adorable, inspiring message in the story and the adorable fuzzy wuzzy blue guy, I have no doubt we'll grab two or three more. Our ;little guy is a brand rep, and you can see photos of him playing and having cool adventures with his Baboochi here.

Eric Carle Book and Plush Set

DO I even have to expound on this one?! Ok, ok, I don't mind. I am a huge fan of Eric Carle. Almost as much as I love Dr. Seuss, is exactly how big I love Eric Carle. I have fond memories of reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar as a wee Taye, and it does my heart many goods to share that iconic story with my kids now. This year I was beyond huffed to find a book and plush set on Jet.com, and the price was lovely. (I paid about 5.99 for ours, but I caught the Cyberweek goodies. At 14.89 it is still a steal, because this book is an early-childhood treasure. I also got an Eric Carle t-shirt for him from Wal-Mart.com, because the book and plush are only somewhat enough. *chuckle*

Pros: Besides being a classic, this book really is one of the best early readers. Children learn about the little caterpillar and all the foods he tries, and then they learn about what food he really needed! This is a classic.

Cons: Not opening it 'til Christmas. Seriously...I'm glad we have an older copy but this one is soooo cute and that plush caterpillar is singing the song of my people.

Would we purchase again? Is rain wet? Any and all future Karunanithy children will have this book.

The V-Tech GoGo SmartWheels Toys

I love, love, love these little chuggers! The GoGo SmartWheels playsets are a series of inter-connectable train sets with little smart points in the tracks. The smart points elicit specific phrases from the little cars and animals.You can get one set or several, and because the provide structured and free play, you'd be golden.

Pros: Each car sings and talks about subjects ranging from colors, numbers, and letters to concepts like taking turns, cleaning up one's mess, and being polite. (We are especially fond of the train on the treasure mountain set, because he sings about working hard--if that isn't us, I don't know what is!) You can turn the motor off for free play, and the volume is adjustable. The set provides endless combinations--we keep ours assembled in a short-track configuration, just big enough for him to watch the train go round and round, but not so big that he loses interest. The toy itself is quite durable, with a shape sorter, turnstiles to change the train's course, and a crane.

Cons: The assembly is a real blickey, y'all. The instructions are a bit unclear, and there's a lot of possible track configurations. Also, V-Tech really sucks for not at least putting the stickers on the parts. It took us nearly an hour and a half just to get all those little stickers placed, with little help besides basic deductive reasoning, and an additional hour to fully assemble the train set. Thankfully our little bear had fallen back asleep, and we had it ready for him to play with when he got up again.

Caveat: The tracks don't snap together tightly, so an overzealous little conductor will likely pop them apart easily. Again, I wouldn't recommend this for a toddler under 15 months.

Rating: 4 of 5 Stars

Would we purchase again? Indeed we did. We are expanding the little city and so far have the treasure mountain, the fire station (pictured), and will be adding one or two more. I wouldn't recommend this toy for a child under 15 months, though, and I speak from experience. We got our initial set when our little bear was 9 months old, and at first all he would ever do was bat at the tracks and chew on the train.

Update: We got the amusement park set! Actually, it's called the GoGo SmartWheels Race and Play Adventure Park. I'm mentally prepared to fuss about the stickers and such, but this one has a Ferris wheel, y'all. I got ours at Target and it's only 25.49 as of December 6, 2017. In fact, they have a good assortment of these playsets and expansions at really good prices right now! *tucks credit and debit cards away*

Along with the learning toys and books, we like to include a few things that our little bear just wants.

His interests right now are Mickey and Cars 3. With that in mind, a lot of his "fun" items are just little things bearing either Mickey or toy cars. He doesn't just love the movie--he loves cars period. 

Our Christmas this year will be a little less than traditional, as we aren't sure where we will be spending it OR if we'll even be celebrating on the 25th! Such is the K life, I suppose.

Our little guy (and our big girl--I'll dish on my favorite gifts for her next!) is sure to enjoy his presents, so I am letting things bend as they blow. 

Namastè!

-- Tayé K. ❤

Moms of Color and Breastfeeding: Why We NEED to Get REAL About It

Namas-HEY!

I'm still up. Another idea, another post. You know the drill.

When my first baby was a tiny tot, I nursed her. I didn't know anything about anything, except I was young and broke, and formula would cost out the wazoo. There was no way I could afford those cans of milk, plus diapers, plus insurance and everything else my little one needed. But breastfeeding would be free, and better for us both. So I nursed. In 2006, I fed my kid and dodged the jabs.

I didn't have anyone to coach me through, and I didn't receive any support beyond the occasional, "I read that breastmilk is best." I had a pump but was completely clueless on how to use it, so I didn't. I didn't have any special tops or shawls. When the baby was hungry, the baby got fed.

What I did have, was a lot of people pushing me to use bottles.

"It's cleaner for the baby."
"Don't you want someone else to feed her sometimes?"
"Formula is just as good."
"These days, you have more options."
"That's not really a thing Black women do nowadays."
"That's gonna be hard to wean her off when she's older."
"She needs to learn to take a bottle."
"How will you manage that and working?"

And because my little 22-year-old self was so inexperienced, I didn't have all the answers. (I still don't!) I often let those little jabs get to me. I kinda stayed home with my baby, so I could feed her in the security of home. No one was judging, comjecturing, or telling me how formula was just as good and I needed to try that too. It was a lonely time, too. I was all but sequestered during what should have been the most joyous time of my young life!

Most times, I felt heavy shame simply because our breasts are so sexualized that even adult women lose sight of their actual purpose. Breasts aren't designed simply to look good, or feel good. They produce MILK. Developmentally PERFECT milk exclusively for our babies. Low-cut tops be damned, breasts are food first. I wish I had the confidence then to stand my ground and shout that from the rooftops. I wish I had the balls to stare down every human who told me to cover up or feed her somewhere else because it was immodest.

But I didn't. It was all too new.

I had never seen another Black (or brown) woman breastfeed, except those women on the NatGeo documentaries. The lactation consultant couldn't exactly relate to this issue, because she was blond and blue-eyed. Even she knew there was a huge gap in positive breastfeeding statistics for my dark brown self and others who looked like me, but what could she do? Most times, as soon as the doctor laid the baby on mom's chest, the nurses went swiftly to fetch those little bottles and the moms never batted an eye.

Reason?

We never really question beyond the norm. When a woman becomes a mom, there's a lot of comfort in doing what's tried and true. While formula is certainly not more tried and true than good old liquid gold, it is certainly easier (except where trial and error comes into play--food sensitivities, protein allergies, lactose intolerance) a mom who has never been exposed to nursing would likely not think to try it. Nurses in 2006 were not keen to press the matter. Some nurses now, eleven years later, don't press the matter!

A lack of knowledge, plus a lack of encouragement, often leads to us either not making our goals (whether it's 6 weeks or 6 months!) and defaulting to the bottle and can routine.

There's nothing wrong with that if it's truly your choice.

But is it really your choice if you aren't informed of other, better options? Can you really make a legit choice if you don't know all the options available? Can you be truly sure if you never explore the other avenues?

No.

You can tell yourself you are content, and that you made the best decision--most of us do! But fast forward to baby number two, when you have more info and opt to breastfeed. Nearly every mom I have talked to who has gone both routes, has revealed that she wished she had breastfed the first time(s) too.

Note: I'm no statistician--these are just facts I've gathered in the past decade or so of parenting and learning about parenting.

By the time I delivered my second baby, I was a breastfeeding powerhouse. I had read all the good info. I knew what was a scam and what wasn't regarding production. I was even somewhat prepared for failed latches.

I had that info and confidence because the conversations are happening. Women of color are opening up. We are discussing this and we are writing, sharing, and dissecting every bit of it. We are owning it. We are teaching and learning more than ever before. Our babies are better off as a result.

I'm not saying friends of other cultures didn't help too.

What I am saying is, it was an incredible boost to see moms with my skin tone, nursing. To see moms with my husband's skin tone, feeding their babies without shame.

Honestly, I needed that. I needed that more than all the info, all the classes, and all the lactation consultants combined. I needed to see my sisters filling their little ones with liquid gold. I needed to see my sisters meeting and exceeding their goals.

Even more so, I needed to commiserate with them about the inconveniences. I needed to vent about the way I hated having a wet shirt all the time. I needed to chat with women like me, who didn't mind peeling back the glamorous "brelfies" to reveal the cracked nipples, clogged ducts, and oversupply issues.

I needed my tribe, and I needed us to get real about it.

Only in recent years have I begun seeing women of color in breastfeeding ads. Only in recent years have I noticed forums and groups for us. The progression is happening, and we as women are the momentum which is getting this ball moving.

Note: I'm not saying we always have to be separate. I'm simply acknowledging that our experiences as women of color will always be somewhat different than other women, whether it be by socioeconomic status or simply by community support. Breastfeeding is a conversation that must happen at every status, color, and creed in order to remove the shroud of mystery--and that includes us moms of color having the discussion on our own terms sometimes.

Recently, my family and I got the chance to be part of something so incredibly special: The launch of the Mimijumi Dark nipple! Many people complain about the price of those bottles, but I support them for two reasons. One, they're clearly invested in the success of ALL breastfeeding moms, right down to donating their gently used bottles for charity AND creating a dark nipple for moms of color. Two, theirs is the only bottle my son would take with any consistency--he loved his Mimi and so did we!

In 2006 I would only have gotten a dark nipple if I painted it myself. Heck, same for 2016!

What a difference eleven years has made.

We need to have these talks. Our sisters, cousins, friends, neighbors--we have to build that bridge and cross it bearing solid information and pure sisterhood. We don't need to talk about supplementing. We need to talk about surmounting!

Sounds like a feisty black girl battle cry, huh?

I fit the bill.

I doubt we will see a time when every baby is given their ideal perfect food. Simply because the convenience of formula isn't going away. (There even exist machines now to make bottles--I call them baby Keurigs.) That's fine by me.

What isn't fine by me, is when moms of color are shuffled down that formula line without being given any solid info about breastfeeding, by nurses who can't be troubled to take a few minutes to encourage. By families who have sexualized breasts to the point of almost no return. Breastfeeding's natural--but nobody said natural was easy. Furthermore, sometimes natural must be learned!

Example: It's natural for a baby to walk. But it isn't exactly instinctual. The baby must be given time and space to practice the new skill, as well as support. We support them as they learn to stand. We comfort them when they fall on their butts. We get them up again and the process continues. Eventually we have a little toddler, then bona fide walker, then sprinter!

Moms of color, let's get our sprint on.

But first...we crawl.

By crawl, I mean we open the lines of communication. We don't accept the formula. We ask to see the lactation consultant. We don't immediately default to the "easy" path. We seek out other moms who can help us walk this path.

Then we sprint to our goals' finish lines. Maybe 3 months. Maybe 6 months. Maybe 2 years!

The sprint isn't a rush. The sprint is that confident stride we hit because we are armed with solid info, steady camaraderie, and a steeled resolve to stay our course.

Namaste!

-- Taye K. ♡

Magical Cloves... *heart eyes*

Namas-HEY!


It's still dark. I'm awake.


I'm in the throes of my first-ever toothache. *grimace*


I have not, until late last night, understood why grown men cry and moan when their teeth hurt. I have never felt such an odd, torturous pain. I can't even deal. As you know, I dislike medicine. I only take what's absolutely necessary, and even then I use the smallest amount possible to effect relief.


...this tooth pain had me crying for morphine, seriously. I legit wanted the strongest thing, that would last the longest time, so I could sleep through the most pain. I also needed said remedy to not interact with my current therapies. (Anti-nausea meds have side effects that become greatly exaggerated when taken with other meds, and anti-epilectic meds are the same story.)


Modern medicine failed me. There was nothing I could take that wouldn't possibly interact with the stuff I already have to take. Since I didn't want more side effects, I felt like I was at an impasse.


Note: This blog is not intended to give you a diagnosis, a prescription, or a guaranteed treatment plan. I am not a doctor. I repeat, I am not a doctor. I am simply a woman who could not stand one more medication, or surmount one more side effect, so I turned to natural remedies. As with anything you see online, please do your due diligence. Research. Make sure you aren't allergic or otherwise reactive. Discuss anything you want to try with your care team. Best wishes!


The tooth is not infected, so antibiotics aren't needed. The tooth isn't loose or broken, so there isn't a justifiable reason to hook up the pliers and snatch that sucker out. (Sounds painful...yet somehow I am sure it is less painful than what's actually happening in my poor little mouth.)


Because I hate medicine, and currently have to watch everything I ingest anyway (and shouldn't we all, all the time?), I decided to Google it.


I know, I know...Google is NOT the thing to do when you're not feeling well. All it takes is a few clicks to convince even the sharpest mind that they have contracted some kind of weird chicken fever and will die within the hour.


I came across some questionable stuff. Some comical stuff. Some downright wacky stuff.


I came across the magical clove.


No, that's not a reference to some illicit street meds.


The clove.

This little twig-looking flower bud has saved this mama's life, along with what's left of my stupid appetite.


I asked Hubby what he thought about it. (He is the resident medical genius...I am but a humble other genius. *chuckle*) He gave me several different scenarios to consider, i.e. methods to use these little crunchy power pellets to stop the mouth massacre.


Note: For the fact checkers, here is a little infographic about cloves.

There are several different ways to use a clove for a toothache.


The gentlest is to use clove oil. It is available in most pharmacies, and practically all health food stores. But clove oil wasn't available to me immediately. I needed immediate or sooner.


However, we do have a jar of whole cloves at our house, which brings me to the second method...


A less-gentle but still effective route: whole ground cloves.


I had Hubby grind up a few cloves and bring them to me. Ever the considerate one, he also grabbed a few whole ones.


I rinsed my mouth with Listerine, then some saline. The saline helps with salivation--you need a little drool power to help the cloves effect relief. We fashioned a poultice (think, little clove dust-filled pillow) from a little square of gauze and packed it on the affected tooth.


Within a few minutes, the gum around the ignorant tooth began to feel warm. A soothing warm, not cayenne and chili masala warm. A bit later, a blessed numbness.


Naturally (see what I did there? Naturally?), I was elated. I hadn't been to sleep for maybe 16 hours, because it hurt to lay on my face. I sleep on my right side almost exclusively, and even an extra soft pillow hadn't stopped the pain from shooting through my jaw like an errant crap rocket every time I dared rest on my face. While I'm no stranger to sleeping sitting up, I really wanted to lie down and be one with the blankets. Pain, drains.


By first hour's end, my tooth was comfortably numb. As in, "let me eat some Chick-fil-A breakfast and brush, before the feeling comes back and I'm dying again" numb. I took my little magical clove pillow out and got a few winks. Of course, we made another one to keep at the ready.


For now I'm still comfortable. I haven't used my second poultice yet. I decided against buying the commercial clove oil for me, but I will definitely have Hubby get some for the kids. I'm fine with the real deal, the little crunchy spice pillow.


The only downside to this little remedy is, you may not be overly fond of the clove's flavor. I don't mind it, because I drink my weight in chai, which is a spice tea including cloves, ginger, and a host of other healthy things mixed with black tea. I take mine with coconut milk, no sugar.


I digress.


While everything must be exercised with caution and moderation, I fully recommend giving Big Pharma a break and exploring natural remedies. Long before there were pain pills and infusions, there were plants and roots.

Don't take this blog as medical advice. Take it as a tool to learn about something perhaps you didn't know, I hadn't ever tried. Please remember, I am not the resident medical genius. The resident medical genius charges you, while I provide my little insight and anecdotes for free. *chuckle*


Namaste!


-- Taye K.

Bed Rest: Addressing the Dragon in the Room

Namastè!

I hope you're experiencing copious amounts thereof. It's almost 3 am in my neck of the woods but I'm awake and my laptop is, too!

Have you ever been ordered to go on bed rest? You know, that mandatory voluntary relinquishment of everything you like (i.e. freedom) for everything you love(health!)?

I have.

I cried. I bargained. I raged.

I tucked all those feelings in (mostly--after taking honest account of them, and admittedly wallowing in them for a bit) and...

I went to bed.

I'll be the first to admit, I nearly went crazy a time or two. See, I am naturally an active person. I bake. I cook. I run the Family Namastè empire. I write. I travel! I squeeze as much as I can out of those 24 hours in a day, because those 24 hours often squeeze as much as they can out of me. But this rest thing? I don't want to sound selfish or ungrateful but IT SUCKS.

Honest account time. When you can't get up to your usual shenanigans and bossery, it can take a huge toll on your spirit. It usually does. In addition to whatever landed you at The Juncture, you likely feel like a burden to whomever is entrusted with your care! It really, really sucks, regardless of how much they assure you it's no problem. It is maddening, saddening, and frustrating.

 

After that honest account, what's next? For me, it was moving forward with the very few things I could still do. But first, I had to address my depression about it. It was not sadness--I feel into an actual depression. I didn't care to eat, drink, or see sunlight. All I could do was sleep, because my heart hurt and I felt lower than low. I was beating myself up, but my poor self had already endured all the beating it could handle.

Note: I didn't just magically "come around." I had to address the depression, and the anxiety that accompanied, in a real way. As that healing took place, I was able to carve out my new niche in this stagnant stretch of life. 

Because I made it, I want to share what helped.

Here we goes-ies!

1. Don't diminish your feelings about it.

Bed rest is a hard pill to swallow, y'all. Whether you are an active person or simply used to doing your personal best, the idea of being confined to bed (often indefinitely to boot!) can be daunting beyond belief. It's healthy to take honest account of your feelings, from sadness to fear, and hopefully right back around to hope. Acknowledge each emotion. Own them. Let them pass without setting up permanent residence.

2. Don't let yourself go.

When the initial wave of NOPE fades, pull yourself together. You don't have to get red carpet ready, but do brush your hair. If you wear makeup every day, keep doing that. If you are able to keep even a lite version of your beauty regimen, do so.

Why?

Because if you look your best, you will feel your best. Taking even a few minutes to wash your face and put on hospital-issue lip gloss is just a tiny thing, but that tiny thing will feel momentous.

3. Acknowledge your feels.

I had many. Anger, sadness, guilt, anxiety--you name it. I was so sure things would go a certain way and when they did not, I was crushed. I had plans of prenatal yoga and outings with my mommy group, but there I was, on mandatory bed rest, unable to go anywhere except the doctor's office and/or hospital to be observed.

At first, I tried to put on the bold happy face. I would smile and say how well I was, despite the fact I was terrified and upset. And angry. Can't forget that one. I felt robbed of my dream pregnancy by hyperemesis gravidarium (HG). While I was thrilled about my baby, the entire pregnancy was essentially stolen by this dragon of an illness. I didn't get to enjoy most mama milestones and was fairly traumatized.

...but I learned to let the days be what they would, with the only expectation being that each day is only 24 hours, plenty of time to turn itself around. Which brings me to my next point...

4. Take it all, one day at a time.

I had planned a lot for those last few weeks. I meant to paint our son's room. Arrange his little outfits. Choose thank you cards for everyone who made the journey more bearable.

But instead my days were filled with kick counts, bolus feeds, and Procardia.

I meditate often, and in time I willed myself to appreciate each day. It was a process of course, but I began to see those interventions not as interruptions of my plans, but necessary support to help me carry those plans to fruition. Every day was only 24 hours. I'd focus on each 24 hours rather than weeks, and it was easier. It's more palatable to count hours than it is to count days. Hours are smaller increments, obviously. Smaller hunks of time are defo more manageable for this mama!

5. It's fine to withdraw.

For me, that meant only entertaining my closest family, friends, and colleagues. I didn't talk about my work or watch the news. I didn't entertain any cold soup--bad news or bad outlooks. I stopped being on my social media accounts--I phased out most of my Instagram, and my personal Facebook has never gotten a ton of love to begin with, so I essentially vanished on social media. I didn't want the "practiced" love. I didn't want all the excessive virtual concern because those people would be able to do only just that.

Note: I greatly appreciate and am forever humbled by those who have and do check in on us! I would never diminish your value to our family. We simply didn't want the excess attention--people looking for a story.

I didn't become cold. Instead I just wanted to be around (literally and via social media relays) people who were more like me: my straightforward, humorous, no holds barred crew would help me stay uplifted but also chop my crap if I began a pity party.

That positivity has meant everything. When I have felt up to talking, my Mompadré has given me LIFE. I'm very appreciative of those few ladies.

6. You have every right to treat yourself.

Everyone's treats are different. Mine happen to be indulgent desserts, horrible reality TV, and the occasional online shopping--spree-let? (I like to buy things as they catch my eye but I'm not compulsive, thank goodness--I'd be screwed.)

When I had a particularly rough day, I'd vow to just get thru till 5 pee em. After that, I'd either watch some horrible TV (the characters' drama does wonders to take my mind off me) or have a smoothie or shake patterned after a decadent dessert (fruits, almond milk, and any number of cookie/cake/pie inspired add-ins). Every couple weeks I would log in and check my social stuff and maybe buy some little trinket from my wish list.

7. Writing will be your sanity, even if you are not necessarily a wordsmith.

While I was fairly lax on the blog scene, I made sure to write down lots of reflections and notes so when I felt ready to share our journey, if I ever did, I could have all those reminders there and fresh. I would have them compiled for either a blog memoir or a sweet memento for the family to look over.


They were not perfectly-edited, grammatically-sound pages. I even scribbled some down on napkins!

The point was, even while I was having those boring, difficult days, I would value the ability to look back on them once I had surmounted them. I even took a few horrible hair day selfies.

8. Get mad, mad, and more mad.. and then get over it. Emotional honesty is golden.

I already talked about emotions...but the anger is something else and deserves its own bullet point.

Nothing will make you more angry than having to relinquish your place at the helm of your household. Who else knows the right laundry detergent, grocery items, and cleaning products to get? Who knows exactly which days trash and dry cleaning go out? More importantly, who is going to take the time to make sure these things are done correctly each time? Or will you end up being released to a house in pandemonium?!

For me, that stuff mattered big. I don't like letting other humans handle my chores. Those things are my tasks, and because I have certain ways to execute them, I was more than a little anxiety-ridden at the prospect of not being at the helm. It wasn't so much a control issue as it was a value issue. What good was I if I couldn't even handle simple housewifery while he worked?!

Feeling worthless made me mad. Being pacified (by way of online shopping and bills being brought to me so I could pay them online) made me mad. Owning up to how petty I was being and how pointless my hissy fits were made me more mad.

...then I got over it.

It took me some time. It took me some tears. It took me some tantrums. I had to get over myself, and at times I still feel too high. (Not conceit--just acknowledging that to go from being a valued, respected, productive member of my family to someone who was being brought her meals and walked to the latrine, was a huge adjustment.) I had to really step outside myself and remember why I was even there, which humbled me quite sharply.

I felt better for being honest and actually acknowledging how I felt, though. I didn't pack it away for it to eat at me indefinitely, which would have been unhealthy.

9. It will make you and your mate crazy--and then it will make you closer.

I was probably a big pain in the butt. Scratch that--I know I was a pain. I was moody and fragile. I didn't even fit the normal routine because I couldn't get up or go out. I was a crying mess more often than I care to admit, and he definitely got tired of it some days. He was always supportive, but supportive didn't mean he attended my pity party. In fact, one of the things that drew us closer was how he would always motivate me to manage what I could and leave what I couldn't to whomever the task was delegated.

We had some days where the like was surely lacking, but the love got stronger. And seriously, coming through a tough time is enough to destroy many relationships, so I am unabashedly proud that ours withstood the tests. We are stronger in love and that like ain't too shabby either.

10. You will miss the rest when you're no longer bedridden.


My bed rest was tied to a pregnancy. I was in bed for roughly 20 weeks to give my little bear the best possible chances for a full-term or at least term delivery.


Did I really miss being on mandatory bed rest, unable to get up unaccompanied?


No.


But once the baby arrived and I was able to do everything again, the reality that I had to do everything again hit. I was overwhelmed. I was going from being a sort of tragic princess to back at the top of an empire. It was scary. I was out of practice and it seemed like so much had changed in those 20 weeks. We got a new invoice system at work. The baby was nursing around the clock, so sleep was fleeting.


...and while they tell you to sleep before baby arrives, they forget that the body does not store up rest.


I no longer looked well-rested.


I also didn't care. I was up and out, baby!


Counting down again...and trying to enjoy all the ups and downs in the meantime.


Namaste!


--Taye K. 

Dear Target... (You fail.)

Namasté.

The holidays are upon us! As such, most of us are buying presents. For my family, this year means lots of online shopping. We have a few things precluding the usual holiday store runs, and online shopping generally gives us the ability to get exactly what we want without needing to leave base.

As you may or may not know—depending on how many personal conversations we have and if you follow my social media—we are an avid Target family. They carry the types of products we need and love, and they are closer to our home when we are able to run in  the actual store. (No shade to our blue buddies; this is purely convenience.)

As such, I didn’t hesitate to take advantage of their cyber Monday sale. My little bear needed t-shirts and such, and Target has some really cute graphic tees for toddlers. He hates onesies, and because he is nearly 2 years old and every bit the big kid, I can’t say I blame him. Target’s selection of graphic tees includes our favorite characters, cute little guy-isms, and quality all in the small size he needs. (They are one of few retailers we have seen who have 12-18 month tees. Add in my princess’s affinity for Target’s gadget selection (she loves their stationery options, as she is a budding writer herself) and they have some of the tween must-haves that other retailers don’t.

I can generally keep both kids happy by getting their stuff from the Red Store. Happy kids equal happy parents. Need I say more?

However…

Included in the holiday price slashes this year? Free shipping on all orders! (Reasonable exceptions apply. They define reasonable.)

This was music to my ears. I like Target enough to pay their shipping anyway, but when it’s free I like them a wee bit more. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the store, but free shipping plus an online shopping day just made this mama much cheerier. (My holiday spirit has been in short supply this year. *sighs*)

Sooo…I placed my order. I ordered 8 items on one invoice, and roughly 20 items on another. (I separate my invoices because I pay with two different cards. The splurge card gets a real workout this time of year, to maximize those cashback benefits. I use our regular card for regular purchases—clothes, food, etc.)  I was content to know I’d be getting the kids their holiday pressies, even if not by traditional method. We won’t be making mall crawls but they will still have their tree and stuff. The holidays aren’t about those things but they are a part of our traditions. Our traditions have been interrupted EVERY. FLIPPING. YEAR. Since like, the inception of the Karunanithy family. *sighs* Yet we press on, and this year is looking as close to on-track as we seem to ever get.

All good, right?

Target processes orders really quickly, which I love.

What don’t I love?

The way they ship things.

Note: Prior to this transaction, I have always ordered my items and picked them up, so this whole shipping fiasco is really this new to me. And yes, I’m really this aggravated. Judge me, but only if your bathroom mirrors are clean and you’ve actually led a perfect life today. Or any day. *wink*

Free is lovely.

Alas…it could not be this simple, right?

Enter the fracas.

Sending an 8-item order in 5 separate packages, not so lovely. Not lovely one bit.

One, I generally have to rely on Hubby Namastè or our neighbors to retrieve said orders from the steps. I’m not able to, because I’m not home. And while my husband is a gem and my neighbors are true peaches, it is unsettling to me to tack one more honey-do on to everything else they are already helping me with these days. They retrieve my mail, sign for supplies at my store, the whole nine—and no one has asked to be paid or even accepted when I offer!

Two, the waste. I am pretty conscious about what I use and where it goes. I eat organic food because pesticides are bad for me, and also bad for the environment. I recycle wrappers and boxes whenever possible. (I make a mean papier-mâché, and I defy you to find a cooler box fort than the ones Kids Namastè enjoy periodically—drawbridges, towers, the works!) I take pride in not being wasteful. I don't like excess packaging. I don't like having tons of boxes lying around that I can't use, or plastic mailer bags that don't biodegrade. (Call me a hippie but I firmly believe in NOT ruining the planet. I do my part to reduce my carbon footprint whenever possible.)

All that packaging and boxing, for such small items?

Target, you fail. So hard. So very hard.

I understand about warehouses and such, as my family runs a couple franchises. I myself own a salon. I definitely understand that warehouses ship what they have, and some orders are fulfilled by a cooperative of multiple warehouses because not every item is stored in the same city or even state. (That should cover it for the emails I’m sure to receive about “giving Target a break” and “not being a poor sport.”)

What I don’t understand, is why a company that goes out of its way to be the “upper crust” big box retailer, priding themselves on providing the organic, carefully-curated items we environmentally-and-health-conscious families gobble right on up along with our kale and free range chicken, is so ignorant of how wasteful their shipping practices are?

Again, free is great.

However, I’d gladly pay to not have to track  22 shipments for 28 items. (Not an exaggeration.) I would also pay to not have to usurp more of my neighbor’s time, because when Hubby Namastè is unable to pinch hit for me, she and her guy step in without hesitation. Given the slight unpredictability of delivery times, she may end up watching their front window anywhere from all morning to all day!

..and let’s not talk about the weather.

I know it seems like a lot of bitching (pardon my German, but we are all adults and as I stated previously, I’m aggravated!) about a small issue, but I’ve already had to get things replaced due to rain, and even once due to heat damage. (Medical supplies don’t fare well when left in the heat, and most delivery people don’t check for labels beyond the address.) You’re welcome to be mad at me for being mad about a small thing. You're also welcome to move around and let me be, Debra, because my aggy-ness doesn't hurt you.

Thing is, it doesn’t feel small to me. It feels like I’m doing what I can do to bring some cheer to my family during a rough time, but Target’s laissez-faire attitude about the issue has left a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t expect this from a company who generally provides excellent customer care—they don’t even refer to you as a customer! You are a GUEST.

Their shipping policies leave MUCH to be desired, though. I don’t feel much like a guest when I’ve explained exactly what the problem is and it is essentially being disregarded with a pat on the head.

(Y’all know I don’t like my hair touched. Target is touching my hair, darn it!)

I suppose I would be less aggravated if it wasn’t such a stressful time. I can generally take things in stride when I’m not in the throes of a life transition-slash-mild-crisis. Unfortunately, that isn’t now. And because I pride myself on being an honest person, I am honestly sharing how piss-poor this experience has been. I’m honestly mad about it, and I honestly can’t be troubled to care if it’s petty or not. It’s my current truth, and I’m okay sharing it.

For what it’s worth, I’ll keep shopping at Target. Just maybe when I can resume my normal routine and pick the items up, because honestly their crazy shipping is too much hassle. I just want to shop simply and not add to my load, so I can tick off my to-do list without ticking off me.

So this isn’t an attack.

No.

Just a vent about my 28 items and 22 shipments. Shipments I will diligently track and sweetly request my husband and neighbors to watch for and bring into the house, so they aren’t ruined by the weather or shady humans’ ill intentions. By next week’s end everything will have arrived and then I can breathe a little easier.

Target did NOT make my holiday shopping easier, but they did have what I needed in stock, at a pretty sweet set of prices. I can concede that much because I’m the Queen of finding the silver lining.

Don’t get me wrong. In the grand scheme they still suck, and their guest relations (since we aren’t just customers) could use some major tweaking…

…but I’ll tuck this bad experience in with the rest of life’s peaks and valleys fairly soon.

Just not until I receive my 22 shipments for my 28 items, *smirk* Way to go, Red Store.

Namastè!

--Tayé K.

Pumpables Milk Genie: My New Best (Portable) Friend

Namastè!


Peeking my little head in to bring you a great review, of a great product, that's been a MAGNIFICENT help to me. I'm currently still under the weather, and for some reason the respiratory bug I have will not leave. It's complicating some other things I have going on, so I'm anxiously awaiting relief.


Let's dive in!


As you know, I am an oversupply mama. I use my regular pump on a good schedule, and it helps me immensely. But because it isn't portable, I still rely on a hand-held pump when I need to pump somewhere besides my recliner. Since I currently pump from bed, I needed a backup.


Enter, the Pumpables Milk Genie!

Note: While the product was provided in exchange for honest review, all opinions and experiences herein are mine and mine alone, and are in no way influenced.


A good friend of mine (two good friends, actually!) referred me to the Milk Genie a few months ago. We were all talking about our pumps, what we love and what we wish was better or different. I am the appointed Queen of the Pumps, because I've tried practically every major one on the market in my quest to relieve my oversupply while still blazing along my breastfeeding journey.


When I partnered with Pumpables, I had a good feeling. I was hoping it would be light enough to sit in my gown pocket without falling or being heavy like my previous handheld. I have recently shied away from using it (the previous handheld) because the vibration is so strong, and the suction actually hurts. Plus, it's pretty loud.


I know, I know...seems like a lot of whine coming from the Queen of Cheese. But I just want sleep, and I don't care much for loud noises. I know pumps aren't silent, but the quieter, the better.


My first impression of the Milk Genie?


Heart eyes.


You see, when it arrived, I wasn't able to assemble it myself. Brother Namastè was Tayè-sitting at the time, and when he took it out of the box for me, he was able to assemble it in no time at all. Like, without even looking at the instructions! He legit just took it out of the packaging, assembled the pump kit, and hooked it up to the pump!


This was a major thing for me because sometimes I cannot assemble the pump myself. I'm either eating, attempting to balance my toddler on the other side, or simply too spent. (Sometimes I pump, and other times I am pumped. There are days when I have no energy at all, weak as water.) One of the main requirements for any pump I use is, it must be easily assembled, fairly quickly, and there's always a chance that the person assembling it will either have limited experience or none a all.

The Milk Genie is a tiny powerful thing.


It is lighter than my previous handheld, and the engine is WHISPER SILENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


That's a lot of exclamations. More than grammar typically allows. But it is valid in this case, because when I tell you this thing is legit silent--!!!


The Milk Genie is a closed-system pump. That means no milk can flow into the tubing or motor. This also keeps the milk free of cross-contamination. Tat's a big deal to me, as I am a milk donor. The pump can be assembled quickly even by a novice! (Read, Hubby Namastè and Brother Namastè can both assemble the pump without breaking, losing, or disabling any part--which is a huge plus!) The pump is lightweight and extremely quiet. My cell phone's vibration is louder than the Milk Genie's motor, which means this pump would never wake a sleeping baby, husband, or toddler.


Don't think you'd be trading power for portability either. I compared my Milk Genie to my hospital-strength pump, and the Milk Genie is right on par with suction and milk expression. (A strong vacuum means nothing if it isn't eliciting milk flow, you know!) This little pump has excellent, fully customizable vacuum patterns, and its small size in no way compromises its power. It holds its own against any of my other pumps. It has the added benefit of full portability--I could very easily pump in the car because not only is the pump lightweight and pocket-comfy, the screen is also easily read and the buttons are in a comfortable position. 

The pump kit on this baby is easy to clean. I just use regular dish soap (I like Seventh Gen) and warm water. I clean my pump kit four times a day and sterilize it every other day. I use a portable sterilizer, but when I am home I use the dishwasher. 

Getting down to the brass tacks of this matter...


My first session with my new milker was a breeze. The pump has a totally customizable experience, with easily-adjusted vacuum settings. There is letdown mode and regular mode. I'm a little more sensitive than normal, so the ability to completely Tayè-fy my pumping experience was greatly appreciated. 

While "successful" sessions are my norm, I was very impressed with the Milk Genie. I got about 11 ounces for my first session. Generally when I swap pumps, I notice a little drop. Per my research, it's normal. It just didn't happen with the Milk Genie! There was actually a small increase with this little pump, and I was pleasantly surprised. I especially love how it accommodates wide necked bottles. My toddler uses a cuppa now, and I can actually pump directly into his cuppa without needing an adapter kit. 

I like everything about this little pump!


I got an opportunity to speak with Kathleen, who runs the Pumpables official blog, and she posed the following questions, which I am beyond chuffed to share.


K: Have you experienced any difficulties pumping while pregnant, e.g. drop in supply? How have you overcome that?


T: Other than an unfortunate increase in oversupply, and feeling more tired after pumping or nursing than ever, it's been smooth sailing. I alleviate the oversupply by pumping to comfort and nursing whenever possible. It's tricky to manage but I'm doing fairly decent. I'm only on my second shirt today!


K: What advice would you give to a mama who becomes pregnant while still feeding breastmilk to an older child?


T: I would tell them to follow their body's cues. In many mamas, a drop in supply is normal. Also, you might begin to feel touched out (tired of all the contact) or fatigued from carrying one baby inside while nourishing the baby outside! It's all a balancing act, and you will probably have a few road bumps as you navigate this new path.


K: Do you plan to continue feeding your older child after your baby is born, and if so, what are your plans on feeding colostrum and increasing supply for two after the birth?


T: Our goal is 2 years, so I'll definitely continue in tandem. My plan for colostrum is to nurse the tiny one exclusively until the regular milk comes in, then tandem feed as normal. I already have a nice stash of milk stored away for my toddler to have via cuppa, so he will not miss a beat with his liquid gold those first few days. I'll let my body do its amazing thing as far as supply increase. I know that I must move milk to make milk, so I'll allow the babies to latch and in a few weeks I'll resume pumping also. I'm actually hoping I won't have over supply as bad this time, so I can wear the cute little tops without soaking through them every hour!


The Milk Genie is definitely a solid little machine. I find it absolutely cute, also.


Do I recommend it for an exclusive pumper? Actually, I do! It's strong enough to withstand some regular use, and as I've put mine to the test, I know I'll be using it even more when the time comes. I'm looking forward to the rest of my journey with this pump.


Namaste!


Tayè K.

Our Mimijumi Story: One Picky Baby's Perfect Bottle

Namaste!

I have not put pen to paper in a long time now. I haven't been physically well, and writing goes from relaxing to taxing when the simple act of holding the laptop drains me to the point of needing sleep.

But, in my typical fashion, I won't speak too much life into the less than happy moments. As I am beyond sure you know, we are a family that believes breast is best! (No debate invited or accepted.) I am so proud and fulfilled to be approaching the 2-year mark with Baby Namaste and our nursing journey, and while I preferred latching him and feeding directly, we did end up using bottles as well.

I pumped from the start. While latching my little bear, I pumped to provide milk for our other little bear, a special little angel.

We latched exclusively until I absolutely needed a bottle for him, so Dad could tend to him while I gradually began working again. A Google search led me to Mimijumi's site. I was impressed, because the bottle actually does look like a breast! It doesn't have a fussy design, but it's still cute. I decided to shoot my shot as a blogger and see if they would partner with me for a review--and they did. (More in-depth details here!)

Note: We have purchased several more since then, because our son loved them so much. They are worth every penny. Always remember: You get what you pay for, tribe!

Much to our amazement, our little bear took to the bottle almost instantly. The Mimijumi is modeled like a real breast, and the bottle's nipple is textured just like a real nipple. If the baby does not latch and suckle as they would at the breast, there is no milk flow. These bottles are designed to mimic breastfeeding as perfectly as possible, and I can attest that they hit their mark!

I was skeptical at first. Mimijumi is accepted by over 90% of babies--but my son has a tendency to be a rarity.

This time he fit the majority. Observe, the picky baby at 8 months old, holding his "Mimis." This was taken a few days before our journey took a pretty drastic turn: I got very sick.

When my baby was about 8 months old, I developed pneumonia. The fevers were giving me tremors, y'all. I was too weak to eat, let alone nurse my little bud. I had a hands-free pump, so I could at least express milk for him. I didn't want to hold him because I was burning up. That fever plus the body aches and constant barking cough were more than enough to make me thank my lucky stars for my pump and our Mimi.

During those two weeks, I was entirely miserable. I was on the bare minimum of medication so I could continue to nurse my little bear. Even if he wasn't latching, I was determined to give him my milk only.

Fast forward: we made it! I credit this bottle with saving my nursing journey, because when I was laying there with a temp of 103, the last thing I wanted was to latch my baby and risk him getting sick. I know they get immunity from mother's milk, but I was too weak to even hold him. I could pump, though, and Hubby Namaste was able to give him the wonderful liquid gold.

Our Mimijumi saved us in another aspect too: Our son never developed a nipple preference. (Nipple preference is often called nipple confusion--which is inaccurate. The baby is not "confused" about the nipple! They simply want the easier route to their milk. Breastfeeding requires more than just suckling. Most bottles, however, do not--that's why they drip so badly if you leave them uncapped! I unabashedly do cry over spilled (breast) milk, so I promptly eschew any container that does not keep that milk safe.) The Mimijumi is a zero-flow nipple, which means the milk does not flow unless baby is latched and suckling. If baby is not correctly latched, nothing comes out. Also, the holes in the nipple more closely resemble those on an actual mother's nipple--there are not very many. (We used the slow flow, and it has one tiny hole.)

A few months after that amazing collab, and the amazing comfort my family garnered from having a bottle the baby would actually take, my coordinator Lauren emailed me again to ask about testing out a new Mimi product.

You know I was on board!

The Mimijumi nipple is flesh-colored. It's a simple beige, nothing fussy. Lauren had a cool surprise for me, though...

The Mimijumi geniuses had decided it was time to create a dark nipple for the already-popular bottle, and because I've been pretty vocal about it (the Mimi is still my cover photo on my blog's FB), she wanted to invite me personally to try it with my baby!

We were honored. Interestingly enough, the only skepticism he seemed to have was that while this bottle did something close to his Moms, but while that nipple did have his noms, it did not look like his Moms! When I gave him the dark nipple....well, a picture is worth a thousand words.

...the dude abideth, times ten-eth.

To be a part of the dark launch is incredible. Not only are the geniuses behind the Mimi taking care to ensure all Moms can provide their bottled noms without structurally OR visually disturbing their nursing routines.

Prior to the Mimi, I hadn't seen a bottle so carefully created to replicate the nursing experience for baby. More importantly, I had never gotten the kind of customer service they provided. We got an email full of tips and recommendations. The team was always available!

...but when they contacted me about the launching of the dark nipple, my heart swelled. As I have said, Black and Brown moms are not as well-represented as we need to be. I felt really proud to be at the proverbial helm of this product launch and test run because here we have a company that sells millions, without changing a thing--her they saw a need to make their product even more inclusive. 

Also, when a product launches an ethnic variation, its not generally "in tone" for us more deeply-browned cookies. 

When I opened my Mimi dark and held it next to my skin, I couldn't help but get misty eyed. The dark is a shade or two beyond me, but I was just so full of joy to see myself represented by this company. I couldn't show anyone the launch product, but I have never ached so bad to show someone a bottle! It was the toughest wonderful secret to keep. 

This has been just another wonderful benefit of working with such a conscientious, caring, involved company. No other bottle comes with a dark nipple, y'all. And from personal experience, I know that in the Black community the lack of breastfeeding information, guidance, and/or products that feel inclusive to us c an and often are the last nails in the coffin. Mimijumi has taken a step to include us that, while millions of baby bottles have nourished millions of babies, no other company has been present enough to consider providing more than just a standard beige nipple.

I cannot WAIT to use these with our next baby. We will absolutely 100% be breastfeeding again, and we will have our Mimis for the moments when we need the option of a bottle.

How do I feel about it?

Beyond chuffed!!!

Namastè!

-- Tayè K. ❤