Supply and Demand

i love olive with all that i have and will do anything for the munchkin, but i can't help but dread feeding her. (i breast feed via a breast pump. more on my experience with breast feeding and breast pumping to come.) olive's demand for milk is insatiable - frequently exceeding my supply. i live in constant fear that i can't provide for her... to think she's only a month old.

am slowing getting over my issues and am coming to realize that formula is a totally decent alternative to breast milk, but i can't help but feel like a loser when i'm unable to satisfy my kid. just sayin'...

Milestone

Olive reaches a month today. She'd like y'all to know that she's officially a big girl :)

Great Expectations

Supermodels seemingly have it all. Post-partum figures that money can't buy, yummy over-achieving hubbies, and beautiful children whom they breastfeed effortlessly. See Exhibit A:


Exhibit A - VS angel Miranda Kerr feeding her son before strutting her shit on the catwalk in lingerie.

WTF.

Having never had a baby before Olive, I had no idea that photos like the one above, and blogs like this one, do not depict the norm. Glossy, doctored images of highly-disciplined freaks of nature in perfectly-staged settings paired with edited blog entries about their fancy at-home, glitch-free, successful natural births to chill babies are bound to make any "real" mom feel like a failure - myself included. Olive was a challenge from day one, and it's important to note that ours was not a relationship based on love-at-first-sight. See Exhibit B:


Exhibit B - Me and Olive hanging out at the hospital when she was first born. Feelings were mutual. She was pissed at me for starving her (my milk supply hadn't let down yet), and I was frustrated with her for chewing up my nipples (seriously, ow-wee).

Fast forward to today. My weight is at an all-time high, my home is a war-zone, and I continue to struggle with breastfeeding my colicky baby. Unlike Miranda Kerr, I am not strutting around in diamond-covered pasties and a thong. I am a fat ass, running on empty - sleeping any moment I can, anywhere I can. See Exhibit C:


Exhibit C - Reality bites.

Though Olive and I didn't hit it off from the get-go (our relationship problems stemmed from the difficulties I encountered when breastfeeding), our mother-daughter relationship has developed into something pretty darn sweet over the course of a month. (Olive turns 1 month old tomorrow!) My insides melt like butter when the little one stares at me; I swear, there's nothing I wouldn't do for my bossy munchkin... Exhibit D:


Exhibit D - Who ya' callin' bossy?

Happy New Year!!!

Happy Chinese New Year, everyone! As we enter the year of the Dragon, Olive has but one thing to say. Chime in, munchkin.

Olive: Dragons are cool, but rabbits are cuter.*

Little one has a point.

* Olive was born in the Year of the Rabbit. She barely made the cut-off, so I like to remind her that she's a rabbit butt.

Cowabunga

Avery is proud of her gifted milking cow*. Olive is ashamed of hers.

Olive confesses to Avery: My moo-moo sees a lactation consultant...
Avery to Olive: *gasp* Wanna borrow mine?

*cow = mom.

There's a Puppy in the House

Olive: Daddy, daddy, Beans did it.
Le Hubby: *skeptical* (Rightfully so.)


Olive: Why won't you believe me?


Olive: Mommy?

Some of you have been wondering whether or not Beans and Olive have been getting along. Yes, folks. They have been. Royally. Beans understands there's a new puppy in the house and has been incredibly accommodating since her arrival. He sniffs Olive's belongings and tiny feet, but is fully-aware that everything munchkin-related is off-limits to him. We are very proud of him. The dynamic in our household has certainly changed - with the baby being priority one - and we're all learning to adjust. Le hubby and I try our best to let him know he's still very-much loved. At the same time, we uphold strict house rules for him.

Like us, Beans is scared of the baby. Especially when she cries. I don't blame him. I hear you, Beans. Olive's cry can be deafening. If I could fit under a chair or curl up and fit in a doggy bed (like Beans), I'd probably do the same...

I'm New Here

Le hub mocking our master, Olive.

Never in a million years did le hubs and I think that we would become THOSE people. You know, gushers. I find myself plastering Facebook, Twitter, and all email correspondence with Olive's face. Apologies, friends and acquaintances. Apologies, Olive. But it's like that old Whitney Houston song. "I get so emotional, baby... Every time I think of you ooh-ooh-OOH... Ain't it shocking what love can do..."

With the arrival of the munchkin, our world has been turned upside-down, inside-out and round and round. The house looks like it imploded (empty Amazon boxes formerly filled with baby gear are scattered everywhere, not to mention used Kleenex from wiping her spit up), le hub's car is in the process of getting switched out for a larger, safer vehicle in which to transport the kid and all her gear, and oh, I should probably point out that I am physically ruined. Since Olive's delivery, I've been walking about with hard and heavy melons for tits paired with ravaged nipples from breast feeding, sporting 24 extra pounds from the uber-rich Chinese post-partum "diet" of fatty soups, and have worn nothing but high-waisted sweatpants since my return from the hospital. I fit nothing else and could not be more unattractive. But I don't care.

Baby girl, you are the Master of our Universe (He-Man reference!). You may have the entire household running on empty, but daddy, Beans and I all love you. (Cue Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely")

Favorite Things

Olive may only be 10 days old, but she's already exuding some mayjah personality.

She's already got "LIKES" - or so I've decided. Breast milk aside, pipsqueak digs...

1) Secrets with daddy.

2) Eskimo kisses

3) Froggy rattle from Uncle Jon (my brother)

Olive, you're my favorite thing.

Priceless

An excellent replication of Olive's cry is the sound Donald Duck would make when being slaughtered.
Nurses at Good Samaritan Hospital acknowledged that she was the loudest baby on the floor.

But every so often, our munchkin tires herself out.
And when she does, she'll shoot us a smile.
Those moments are priceless...

Here she is with her very patient and loving daddy.

What's up, Doc?

Hello world.

Olive Harper Huang.
Born 7 lbs 7 oz at 11:40 a.m. on December 30th.
Just in time to ring in the New Year.