But What Do You Think?

Word on Sesame Street is that Katy Perry's clip got pulled because of her apparent 'risque' dress. I mean, it's not the most demure outfit - but seriously, parents have a problem with juggernauts? Juggernauts are the bearers of mama's milk, the life-juice for so many babies. Breasts are part of life. She's not wearing vinyl at least. I'm not a big Katy Perry advocate, but how is her outfit any more saucy than Wonder Woman.

However, Matt has just informed me that Lynda Carter is a heckovalotta hotter than Katy - well yes, that's true, but what's in an inch or two of cleavage. This is boobie racism in my book!

What four year old is going to say - 'Hey mama, that's a whole lotta hootie going on there?!' If they're saying that, there's something wrong in that per-ticular household. Capiche?

Peeps, this is grown-ups sexualising hooties. Plain and simple.

What say you mamas?

Hooters And The Blowfish

This has been one of those weeks where I start to question things (you may be questioning why Pammy is on my blog?! Slow down dear reader, I'll get to it).

My son started off two weeks ago with gastro, which then went into croup, which then morphed into an ear infection. My babe has had bronchiolitis during this time too. It has been a pretty prickly time, and last week when I said I needed sleep, well now I've gone into over-time and don't want to sleep because I just can't.. You hearing me?

Anyway, this takes me to a couple of days ago when I was attempting to feed my babe. She's 8 months old. Cute as a button. Well of course I think that. Anyway, she fed at 11:30pm, so I trot in for her morning feed and she just growls at me. Arcs her back. Oooh man. Frustration Grand Central. I kept re-offering her the boobie, but do you think she'd take it. Uh uh. Not until 11:30am would she give in to my offers, and then only took one side.

So I felt like a lop-sided Pammy Anderson. In pain. In fear of mastitis. It made me think of this woman. Although I don't own a pink bikini. Or a navel ring. Oh and one small thing, my hooties are NOT 36MMM. But you know, I still felt like I should have got an application from Hooters.

Anyway, I needed some advice. My baby was bucking off the boobie like a wild bronco.

I contacted the Australian Breastfeeding Association. Man, are they gold, or are they gold? Dutifully, I took down the numbers to call for a little back-up. But then I discovered you can also email them (if it's not urgent) and someone will contact you within 48 hours. How's that for a brilliant resource? I sent off all my stats, a long, laborious email and not even five hours later, I got an email response from my new friend at the ABA.

And you know what? Her response made me laugh so hard - it was the best fix-it of all.

In my email I had asked about feeding off to sleep and how I was a little worried about this habit that seemed to be forming. Her response:

'There is really no evidence that it is bad to feed bubs to sleep. Tell me any man who doesn't like to go to sleep cuddled up to a warm pair of breasts ( exclude any gay friends!). Or anyone who doesn't like a cuddle when they are feeling tired or sad.. it's a normal human response really. And so long as it is working for you, there's really no need to change it.'

I love that. Thanks Marae - you're a Genius with a capital G!

And finally, my babe fed properly. I was no longer a lop-sided Pammy, with dreams to run along the beach in a high cut red swimsuit. Phew. Thank goodness for that.

PS - The new Small Magazine is out.. Could it be any sweeter? No, no I don't think it could. Beautiful. And there's a piece on Alicia Paulson of Posie fame.. Hello? Fantastic!

A Leaky Old Boat

After some green playdough was pulled out of the cupboard this morning for my son and my nephew, I realised how old and dry it was. I quickly whipped up two new batches. One pale pink. The other Tiffany blue. Oh how fab. Sadly, the Doctor didn't see my vision, he just merged them together to make an inky green-purple. Hmph! And then promptly stuck his trains in them. Double HMPH!

We're now in the midst of trying to get him down for a brief one hour sleep. He is stubborn, that's for certain. We've told him we're going to yum cha once he wakes up, but that still doesn't seem to harness his never-dulled enthusiasm for trains. He's now playing with them on the floor of his bedroom. I've tried bribing him with the lobsters and the crabs that he'll see - and still he's not going to sleep. Doubly frustrating when he didn't go to bed til 10:15pm two nights running, and still doesn't sleep in.When will his batteries run out?

Meanwhile, in another room, our babe is sleeping soundly. A triumph.

Speaking of sleeping, this week has been one of those weeks I haven't been doing too well. My day sleeps which were ceremoniously part of my day have dwindled. Heath Ledger's death stuck in my mind and I couldn't shake thinking about it. His poor baby girl. His sad family. Oh what a life.

Then my mum arrived, and I hate going to sleep when she's around, I might miss out on something.

So needless to say, I look forward to bed at night. We're still feeding three hourly most nights which isn't so bad, given my track record with mastitis. Though, our bed has transformed into a bit of a leaky boat. I switched breast pads momentarily, I usually like the Pigeon breast pads, but thought I'd try something different (hey, here's a bit of mummy based fickle consumerism) and bought the Johnson & Johnson ones.. Big mistake. My first night I kept waking up feeling wet and cold. Wet and cold are two adjectives that don't conjure good feelings for me. When sleep is already a luxury, waking up feeling wet and cold ain't good sisters. It ain't no good at all.

So there's my red hot tip on breast pads. If you're reading this, and not had babies yet - don't be disturbed, it's really not that bad. It's just a matter of comfort, and when I'm not comfortable I am grumpy.

Bah humbug!