“Natural Parenting” Blogger Has a “Sizzling” Love Affair with her Child

0

The following essay, “Into (and out of) the Mouths of Babes” reads like Fifty Shades of Grey for female pedophiles:

I try to resist the pull to fulfill his desires. He craves my attention, my embrace, my gaze, but I want the moment to be mine alone. I am successful only until he says my name.  Then my will is gone, and I’m his. “Jessica! Jess!”

[…]

Being on a first-name basis with my son made me feel like I was both his equal and his servant—a familiar dynamic.  Since the beginning of our relationship, he and I had spent a lot of time breastfeeding.  At two, my son’s love affair with my breasts still sizzled.  The concept of my body as both mine and the boy’s had long been a challenge for my husband, even before the boy was walking or talking.  Or calling out my first name.

His language and cognition had matured by the time he was two, but his desire for my body blurred boundaries, challenging me.  It was one thing to be felt up when he was an incoherent blob.  But it felt different when he could say to me, “I wanna nurse you, Mommy” and “other side” while trying to wedge his whole arm under my bra and creep his fingers toward my unoccupied nipple, as though this time I might decide I like it instead of telling him, “Move your hand.” I began instinctively to hug my chest, pressing my unsupporting arm against the dormant breast, sometimes cupping myself, or pulling him off to stop the groping.

Nursing used to be the panacea for all ills: hunger, fear, fatigue. By age two, we were on a more predictable schedule, but my son’s eyes would still flash when I got naked like lollipops were taped to my chest. He’d pretend to reach out and coyly tell me he wanted to nurse, just because he could say the words, and then would proceed to ponder my genitalia, fascinated with the embouchure required to say “vagina.” His mouth played with different tones and tempos for the word. I both laughed and cringed when he began toggling between the v-word and “Jessica,” whispering as though both three-syllable words were magical mantras holding the key to a delicious mystery.  Perhaps they are.

[…]

READ MORE…

I don’t often say this, but this woman needs to be dragged from her home, paraded naked through the streets, and stoned as a whore.  Or else those children should be taken away from her pedophile ass and adopted into a family that isn’t going to sexually exploit them.  The fact that her husband would permit such behavior has me wondering if he isn’t diddling the kiddos as well.  WTF Mombie?!  *shudders*

Advertisements

Classic Attachment Parenting Threads

0

Those pesky pediatricians…

Picture of crying baby makes me cry…

HELP!  Hubby wants to teach the kids personal responsibility!

Let’s boycott Amazon until they ban the books we don’t like.

We don’t actually believe in doctors, but…

Should I be concerned about LO being a hambeast?

There’s also a thread in which OP is encouraged to lie about the father being an unfit parent in order to gain custody of a baby, but it is rather long, so I’ll post it another time.

But here’s a sneak peek:

Extended Comfort Nursing

2

I found this sparkling gem while browsing some Facebook attachment-parenting community:

The thought of my four-year-old son sucking on my nipple while “massaging my boobs to sleep” makes me want to vomit. But Sheree evidently finds this precious and describes the boobie games they play (in which her child enjoys “bopping his head into [her] boob to bounce back and forth while still latched on”) as “hysterical.. we both break out into fits of giggles.”

And she isn’t about to take any shit from her kid’s pediatrician.  When allegedly told that there isn’t any nutritional value to breastfeeding beyond the first six months (which I’m guessing is a bit of an exaggeration on Sheree’s part), she waltzed right back into the doctor’s office to give the “biased” pediatrician a WHO pamphlet and a stern lecture.

I should also point out that Sheree’s preschooler is exclusively “comfort nursing,” which she says includes nursing to bond with her.  (Personally, I prefer playing Candyland.)

Extended dry/comfort-nursing is real, it’s becoming more popular, and it may or may not leave your child with warm, milky memories.

Sanctimommy vs. Little Old Lady — KO!

0

This screen cap is just priceless:

Barbara comes across as a sweet old lady reminiscing about when her 49 and 50-year-old sons were infants.  Amber plays the part of the vicious sanctimommy who rips her to pieces for daring to mention not only that the “boys” were formula fed — but that they survived.

I Starved My Baby, Part One

1

My son did not eat until 23 hours after he was born.

He was my first child, and my mother (who’d adopted me at five weeks) didn’t have any more experience with newborns than I did, so we initially listened to the recovery ward nurses who said it wasn’t necessary for babies to eat within the first twenty-four hours of birth.

My son had some of the classic latching problems (which we would later overcome), but more importantly, I WAS NOT PRODUCING ANY BREASTMILK.  I never produced any colostrum, and the milk did not start coming in normally until several days after the birth.

But the nurses assured me I would produce milk if I kept trying to latch him on.  And so I did, even though it felt as if I were banging both our freaking heads again the wall.

When he was 10 hours old, I asked for formula.  The nurses convinced me it was unnecessary, and to keep on trying to latch and/or pump.  At 12 hours old, I asked again.  A nurse instead came in to “coach” me.  At this point, I was torn between “doing the right thing” (holding out to EBF) and doing what was “convenient for me” (feeding a starving baby).

Please keep in mind that I was new to all this, utterly-sleep deprived (I’d been averaging two hours a night for the past five days) and under the influence of oxycodone, yet still in a terrible amount of pain.  I figured these nurses were the “experts,” and when they offered me a newborn pacifier to “soothe” (i.e. shut up) my hungry baby, I gladly accepted.

A few hours later (and after few more timid requests for formula), they sent in a lactation consultant who simply reiterated everything I’d already read in books.  We agreed that I’d wait until he was 18 hours old before resorting to formula, which somehow turned into 20.

At 20 hours, I insisted upon feeding my baby formula.  The nurses offered some excuse or another as to why the “breastfeeding-friendly formula” (Similac) wasn’t available at that particular moment in time.  At 21 hours, I finally called my father in another state (my mom did not have her car) to go to the store and bring me some damned formula.  He arrived with Similac about an hour later, but the nurse told me it wasn’t the *correct* Similac; unless I used the RTD version (which was supposedly the same consistency as breastmilk), I’d have no hope of ever breastfeeding my baby.  (Keep in mind these people gave my kid a freakin’ pacifier!)

I’d finally had enough, and at 22 hours I told them to find me whatever the hell I was supposed to feed my baby or I was going to give him powdered Similac.  It took my mother following up half an hour later, but at 23 hours old my baby was finally permitted to eat… a single ounce of formula.  Any more, I was told, and my baby would get sick. :-\

Thankfully, my milk came in a few days later, and I was able to EBF my son for the next 8.5 months.  But because of my experience, I never lost sight of the fact that while breast may be best, it isn’t everything.  And there is seriously something wrong with anyone who would readily sacrifice their baby’s health (or overall well-being) for the sake of an ideology.

A Family Ménage à Trois

0

Is breastfeeding a baby while having sex an acceptable practice?  Some Babycenter members seem to think so:

I mean, come on!  The reason for feeding babby some of that super-milky-miracle goodness is so far removed from sex that assuming any sort of connection between the two is just plain ridiculous.  The sex needed to continue in peace, but it also wouldn’t have been fair to the hungry babby to make it simply lay watching and waiting.  (Attachment parenting at its finest!)

Besides, sex while breastfeeding isn’t generally a planned encounter; it just sort of happens.  Kinda like going home with a married man you met at a bar.  And nursing relationships are totally complicated anyway, so who are YOU to judge how people get their “intimacy” on?

Sex and breastfeeding are both normal and natural — so they would seem to go hand in hand:

And it’s not as if the baby is going to remember anything when it’s older:

Besides, threesomes with the baby needn’t involve crazy doggy-style sex; most of the time, it’s just gentle spooning.  Breastfeeding sex can be a wonderful, nurturing act and for both mom and dad.  (And for babby too, I guess.)

And it’s not as if you’d ever make him pull out so you could scratch your nose:

You see, every family does things differently.  Different families have different needs, and it’s just plain ignorant to judge others for having sexual trysts with their babies:

The baby probably won’t remember anyway, but on the off-chance that it does, wouldn’t being engaged in a threesome with its parents make the most charming memory?

Even the “experts” evidently recommend this wonderful family bonding experience…

…though it is not generally recommended with extended breastfeeders:

All the same:

Okay; I’m done now.

Jean-Luc Picard Downvotes AP-ing

0

This article is beautiful, and the fact that people are continuing to comment on it sixteen months later really says a lot:

Babies Are Assholes:
The Problem With Attachment Parenting

(Cross-posted in the comments.)

*Time to brag* My kid (now four) hit every one of his milestones early.  He began rolling onto his tummy at eight weeks, tummy-creeping at ten, began crawls up on hands and knees at 4.5 months, sitting independently at five, took his first steps at eight months, and was able to walk alongside me by the time he was ten months old.

The secret? From the day I brought him home, I KEPT MY KID ON THE FLOOR for as long as he would tolerate.  I’m talking five to ten minutes stretches as a newborn, several times a day, which increased to twenty to thirty minute periods by the time he was three months old.  By four months, if he wasn’t sleeping, eating, bathing, having his diaper changed, or being transported, he could be found happily playing on the floor.

When my kid fell, he’d first look to me before deciding how to react.  I discovered early on that if I kept my cool, he would not cry.  To this day, my heart swells with pride whenever I see a “sensitive child” run crying to their mommy over the tiniest bump or fall.  My kid simply dusts himself off and keeps playing.

I can’t help but be disgusted by parents (as you’ve pointed out, usually women who can claim membership to one “mom’s club” or another) who behave as if it’s perfectly normal for their “wonderfully attached” 11-month-old to not yet be mobile, often hiding behind the excuse that “crawling isn’t even a milestone.”  (Uh, really?)  Far worse are the ones who claim that tummy-time is somehow “disrespectful” to infants and should be avoided at all costs.  These are the parents of children who seldom walk before the age of two.  And this new trend of “extended dry-nursing” is borderline child abuse.

They say some babies hit their milestones faster than others, and I suppose this is true.  If a baby has a developmental delay, that’s unfortunate.  If the delay happens as a result of poor parenting, even more so. But if the delay is clearly caused by a parenting philosophy, that’s just unforgivable.