He is the kind of baby that flips the LET'S REPRODUCE SOME MORE!!! IT'S A GREAT IDEA!!! switch. You know, supposing I had a switch like that.
He's the easiest baby I can remember having. He is a breastfeeding champ. (Ha, I just typed He is a breastfeeding chap. That too.) He's a predictable pooper. A predictable sleeper. It's lovely, really.
But lately.
When it's Time For Some Nursings, things get a little scary. He opens his mouth wide, wide, wide. He looks me square in the face, and with a twinkle in his eye and the kick of his feet, little man chomps down on my nipple with his razor sharp toothless gums and I become just a teensy bit homicidal.
Maybe homicidal is a little exaggeration.
But then... Dude LAUGHS. Then? Not so much an exaggeration to say I want to push him off my lap and say bad words. Except I don't. I say, NO BITING!, and put mah boobehs away. Which isn't really helping *ME* any, because I probably could out-let-down a Jersey cow. So, Elliott bites me hard, which hurts like a really bad word, the one about the mother... Good to know you're still with me on this one. And there is JUST SO MUCH MILK that I'm ENGORGED UP TO MY ARMPITS and then, just like Randy in the greatest Christmas movie EVER?
I CAN'T PUT MY ARMS DOWN!!!! And also? MATAFINGA!!!
That glass? Five minutes.
For two days. Three sips and bite the nips. I've been hand expressing like a teenaged boy, you know, except for the part where those guys make a mess and I make food. Anyway. So naturally I consult The Great And Powerful Googles, who are not yet on SuperWhy which is something I do not understand, because hello, The Googles can skip the whole adaptation of the fairy tale and get straight to the answer.
The Googles told me that The Thing To Do is smash Elliott's little face into my knocker rocks, because he won't be able to breathe, and then when he can't breathe, he'll un-bite me. Or open his mouth. And so I smash, with love, of course, because I'm not really that mom who smashes things, especially the heads of babies. And, just like they said, he opened his mouth.
And laughed. Hard.
As for me? I can't put my arms down.
Five minutes? Oh my.
ReplyDeleteFive minutes?
it's not a pint glass or anything. but yeah, five minutes.
ReplyDeleteMy brother did that to my mom. She bit him back and he stopped.
ReplyDeleteI was having this problem w/MW, and like you, taking him off and telling him "no biting" was not working. And he thought biting was so hilarious! So, I started nursing him less. I was nursing on demand, every 2-3 hours and I stopped and began nursing every 4-5 hours. He was much more hungry/thirsty, so he wasn't interested in biting anymore. He was 11 months when I started reducing feedings, so a bit older than your wee one is now. (And yes, I know it's nuts that a 11 m.o. was still nursing every 2-3 hours. He loves it, what can I say?) Won't help w/the engorgement issue in the short term, but it may help w/the biting.
ReplyDeleteGood luck!
i'm only laughing at you because i have SO BEEN THERE.
ReplyDeleteand i did the no bite thing. and the put down thing. and the run away quick because i can't help but smile when they laugh so cutely thing.
and it sucks ... but then you get through it and it gets better.
I haven't nursed anybody in 5 years and that made my boobs hurt.
ReplyDeleteYep, I did the face smash thing, because all of my babies are born adrenalin junkies and the bigger the reaction (my reaction!) the better as far as they were concerned. Yelling = waves of excitement, apparently. The face smash thing wasn't quite so exciting for them.
ReplyDeleteHoly god woman, the production!
ReplyDeleteLil only bit me a few times, thank God. I used to unlatch her via your technique, say 'no biting,' and then just plop her on the floor and walk away.
She got the idea that I was pissed off enough to abandon her, so she stopped. But, I know, this can be an ongoing difficult prob, because the nips! Ow!
Watch where you aim those things with the letting down business. You don't want to shoot your eye out.
ReplyDelete