Tuesday was great - I kept the boy off because I knew if I sent him to school they'd send him home again, and its just easier to get your head round having them off from the beginning of the day than to get embroiled in something only to have the phone go, that heart sinking 'Hello Mrs_ it's Isaiah's school...'. As it turned out Isaiah went to a friend's for lunch anyway so I got a little bit of catching up done.
We had a tutorial in the evening - I really should leave the group I've been qualified six months but I don't want to! waahhh! Its like a security blanket. Where would I be when I've had a stressful few shifts on the breastfeeding line without the other students and my tutor to debrief to? Yikes that's scary. Being a BFC is about cups of tea and cake in people's houses once a month after scary drives into pitch black countryside at night, nevermind getting on with the work all by myself!
As they had shut my entry onto the A1 I came home via the Tyne Bridge which I have to say looks magnificent at night.
Yesterday I bought a bacon sandwich that made me feel sick all day, blurrghh. That didn't stop me from almost finishing my Christmas shopping, Woo-hoo! I went to Jarrow, or Jarra as they call it there. I discovered that Rosie Luurrrrves Jelly Babies - does that make her a cannibal then? :-))) Except the blackcurrant ones, they ended up in my hand in a chewed up mess. Thanks Rosie.
I taught a class last night so it was my old friend the Tyne Tunnel again, for the first time I focused more on the few hours after birth and skin to skin, with baby led attachment, rather than the old cross cradle Lea Jamieson method P and A. I thought it went quite well actually. Maybe I'll try to refine it a bit before the next one in January.
3 comments:
Glad to see your post today. I miss breastfeeding. One of my dreamn jobs, along with being a local postman, would to be a wetnurse. I loved breastfeeding. I found it very 'natural' if that makes sense.
Well you could be, apparently grandmothers have relactated to feed their motherless grandchildren! Becoming a local postwoman may be more attainable once the kids are old enough to leave in the wee small hours though ;-)))
I saw a fantastic 'This is your life' once on a woman who beed a village postmistress for most of her life. The stories related in that show were amazing. I miss early walks with the dog when it feels like there's only the two of us awake in the world. And I love the community we have here.
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