so i found a weight that no one uses ever

fionareeves-blog  asked:

Hi! My 8 year old autistic son suffers from nightmares in his sleep all the time. I know that autistic people are prone to suffer from more sleep problems than any other group of people (getting to sleep, staying asleep, nightmares, night terrors, sleep walking, etc.), but I wondered if you had any ideas at all as to if there was anything we could do to help him? My son and I have talked about it a few times, and I said I'd do some research for him. Thanks! Fiona

Oh my gosh this is such a hard question!

When it comes to autistics and discomfort of any kind, the first thing I always look for is a sensory source. What is causing the discomfort? Basics first, and I would suggest the basics even if you’ve already done them (and I would suggest doing them regularly because it is always worth checking in). You’ve probably already done this but I’m going to go over it for other readers.

Control the sensory environment. Is there anything in the environment that can be changed to make the night more comfortable? A fan to cool the air a little more? Less light? More light?

If you haven’t tried weighted blankets, a lightly weighted blanket is safe for sleeping at night, and for a lot of us crawling under a blanket is like turning of a switch. It’s the best Mom Hug ever. Seriously. If you haven’t tried it, try it (though to be fair, they can be expensive).

The most inexpensive that I have personally found is SensoryGoods.com, however, I have not purchased one (yet!) so I cannot speak to quality. Of course, if it is within your budget, I recommend finding an autistic quilter or seamstress and supporting their business. If you need help finding a reliable source, I can help there (ask or PM is fine!). I’m sure my followers have a lot of suggestions there, too!

Moving beyond the basics, and I am guessing this gets closer to an answer for your question, “What if the sensory issue is emotional?”

In my case, nightmares are caused almost exclusively by my anxiety and PTSD; I am terrified of being abandoned by people, because of that I have all kinds of horrible dreams about the things I will do or the things others will do that ultimately result in abandonment.

Of course, something like that is hard to control. I can’t just remove the sensory input (emotional response to anxiety or PTSD in my case). I’ve been in therapy for years now, and I still have issues with this stuff.

But with emotional stuff talking does help. With a child, I wouldn’t suggest just before bed, like my wife and I, but maybe an hour before bed when there is still time after to distract the mind before the bedtime routine.

Basically, if you think the source of the nightmares is emotional, getting the thoughts out before bed but not to close to bed, might help ease some of the nightmares.

Try to get your son to stay on topic, but let him run the conversation. What are the things he worries about at school? At home? When he is playing alone? Watching TV?

If he doesn’t feel like talking, it is okay to push a little because sleep is a health issue, but obviously there is a line where pushing too hard just adds to the problems. If he doesn’t want to talk, then share some of the things that you worry about.

And to be clear, share your current worries. Obviously you are worried about him, you can start with that but don’t focus on it. This is about expanding the conversation. If you’re worried about work, share that. If you are worried about the political climate, share that.

The idea here is emotional reciprocity by example. If you want him to dig deep and really try and figure out what is bothering him, you need to do the same. Answer is questions as honestly as possible, with as little simplification for his sake as possible. Basically, talk to him like an adult.

Emotional stuff is hard, but if you invest in him, he will invest in you. Of course, you have to be on the watch for autistic language. You probably know his language better than anyone but him, but for other readers this means non-neurotypical modes of communication.

Watch his body language. Does he rock when he is emotionally agitated? You might be close to what is bothering him. Does he spin around when he is happy? You’re connecting with him, but not in the right area.

Make this part of your routine for the evening, including the extra time between the talk and bedtime. Your conversation with him can be five minutes or thirty or an hour. Whatever you think is reasonable for his routine. But make it a daily thing if you can. Or at least two or three times a week. I suggest shorter and daily because routines are easier that way, IMO.

Keep looking for answers here in the autistic community, I am going to tag a few people who might have more experience with this than I do.

All of that said. If the nightmares still persist, and talking doesn’t help, and therapy doesn’t help, there are medical options that are safe. I will not share them in this post, as they are a little further afield than I want to go here, but you can PM me or send another ask.

To recap:

  • Check the sensory environment. Let him control it.
  • Try a weighted blanket if you haven’t already.
  • Add nightly conversations about the things that cause anxiety, whatever those are for him.
  • Reciprocate, reciprocate, reciprocate, in those conversations
  • Check with other autistics I’ve tagged, and the community at large
  • Check back for replies to this post to see what others comment!
  • Last resort, there are medical options that are safe (but seriously, LAST resort).

Some people who might have more experience than me (and may or may not have additions to offer to my general suggestions above):

@butterflyinthewell @autismserenity @autistic-parenting @autisticeducator @strangerdarkerbetter @vulcanfeminist and I know there are more of you and I just can’t remember who might have thoughts on this because brain is a jerk. If I missed someone obvious, my apologies.

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@jadesocoby has such an important message to spread for women.

———

jadesocoby I was a little shocked when I hit 202 this morning, until I saw this picture on the left come up from a year ago from when I hit 190. So as of right now, I’m the absolute leanest, strongest & happiest I’ve ever been in my life at any body weight.


My transformation and this current photo have spiked quite the controversy all over the Internet in the past 48 hours.
.
I’ve been accused of using fake photos as “befores,” PEDs, surgeries, and I’ve been called every nasty name you can imagine. But I’ve also been told I’ve given people hope. And what I’ve found is the good outweighs the bad here. For every shitty comment I get, there’s 20 good ones.
.
I’m also well aware of the YouTube video made of me. I have no idea who he is, but it brought quite a bit of attention to the journey I’ve been on for 3 years now. & that’s a big reason why I’m on the gram sharing what I do - to give hope and share what can be done.
.
Back on track - My point is that women can be strong. People can just work hard, diet right and get results. And side bar: who TF cares if somebody had surgery or takes PEDs? We’re all on our own paths with different goals. Respect it and leave it alone.
.
I worked for this body and I built it this way on purpose. If it’s too “manly” or “disgusting” for you, then simply don’t look and unfollow me.
.
I’m a powerlifter, not a bikini competitor, a nutritionist or a trainer. I’ve accepted to get as strong as possible, your body is going to look a little different than societal norms. And you have to be ok with it. I also do not offer online training or nutritional advice yet. Maybe someday, but right now I have a career in law enforcement, I have a sport I absolutely love and I’m just trying to find my way in due time.
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My goal is to show women it’s ok to be strong, to have muscle and to touch a weight without turning into Shrek. I had a guy tell me yesterday on my page that I’d have been better off staying fat because I look like a man. (Sorry I’m more jacked and tan than you bro). A year or two ago, that would have crushed me. Yesterday I just shook my head, chuckled and blocked him. I want more women to gain confidence in themselves regardless of what their goals may be. We all gon make it bruh…we just have to help each other along the way.

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Outfit 133: “No Chill”

Breaking Bad S04x07 “Problem Dog”

Our hearts break as we get a great view of this truly awesome jacket. Its got weight and texture and a very flattering oversized collar. J looks very put together as he comes undone.

“If you just do stuff and nothing happens, what’s it all mean?”

This is the moment Jesse’s outlook on life, on existence, is verbalised for us. I’ve tried to do some readings to tackle this one…Nietzsche, Camus, Sartre, even crusty old Heidegger, but I haven’t found what I was looking for (does anyone, ever?). So I’m going to freestyle this shit & apologies in advance.

This line is like the moral equivalent of ‘if a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, does it make a sound?’ - I’m sure that is a terrible equivalency, but it takes me where I want to go. J’s trouble is that he expects judgement and punishment to fall upon him from others in the world since he has broken both the law of his land and his own moral philosophy. But, there have been no external consequences: no imprisonment by the state and no punishment from Gus (scare tactics notwithstanding). So, is an act still wrong if there is no judgement?

If you believe in an objective, universal morality then the answer is certainly yes. A Christian would believe Jesse will get his when he’s zapped down into the depths of Hell. But, Jesse ain’t religious. He’s a moral relativist, meaning his understanding of what is right and wrong is subjective to his own experience. I see J as essentially Nietzschian and we are privy to the edges of his moral philosophy quite often in the series. We know he’s against harming children or involving them in criminal pursuits - this is a hard and fast Jesse commandment. Selling drugs he qualifies with to whom they are sold. Mothers? Okay if you’re a hooker and I haven’t met your son (Wendy) but not cool if I’ve met your son (Andrea). Recovering addicts? He was okay with it but seems to have changed his mind. Selling drugs to everyone else? Not a problem! What about generalised stealing, like say from your employer? Totally okay. Dude is  pretty down for greed and lust if we want to get traditional with our sins. But, murder…J’s not entirely sure. He’s into wrath/vengeance as this is one of his greatest flaws (more on that another time) and at one point thinks he’s fine with murder under this condition. But, in the contrived us vs. them scenario of murdering Gale, Jesse falls to his conscience. Still, we opened this episode with him practicing murder. He’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma if I ever saw one. 

Although he is confessing in this scene, he’s is also pleading for punishment. When the NA leader validates his wrongdoing, he escalates the stakes by confessing again. He needs consequences. His outlook on the world is in chaos without them. Without punishment, he has no choice but to restructure his moral code. It’s his only chance to alleviate his guilt.

I am so in love with you that it hurts. I can’t decide if the pain is yours, or just the weight of the world crushing my chest with thoughts of it ever trying to tear us apart. I have never before seen so much in someone’s eyes until I found myself falling into yours. An endless and infinite universe, encircling me - I hope I never reach ground. I gladly drown. You become the air that I breathe, no need for saving me. This heart racing as I graciously welcome any breaking you may come with. I will endure seven dimensions of hell for one second of your heaven.

Here is the FINAL drabble for my 500 follower celebration!!! 
It’s for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog. I am SO sorry this took so long! I honestly thought I’d finished them all, but I then realised I hadn’t made a masterlist, and when I went to check my docs I realised it was because I hadn’t finished all the drabbles… It is a well established fact that I am a moron, and this just kinda emphasises that point. 
So sorry again that it took so long! Hopefully you like it despite the wait!


You lay still, Dean’s lips hovering millimeters from your own, your breath intermingling as you both caught your breath.

A few moments passed when he pressed a hard kiss to your mouth before rolling onto his back, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you with him so the you were sprawled across his chest.

You felt his hand lazily run up and down your back, and you grinned as you nuzzled into him, inhaling that scent that was just so distinctly Dean.

“So, how long have you got?” you mumbled, closing your eyes and just enjoying the feeling of being with him, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest making you feel sleepier than you already felt.

He made a small ‘hmm’ sound as he thought, readjusting slightly so that he was lower down on the pillows. “I dunno, maybe til tomorrow morning… I told Sam I was heading to a bar, so he’ll probably just assume tomorrow” he grumbled, giving you a light squeeze, “what about you?”

You sighed as you opened your eyes, turning your head to look up at him. “My brother will go crazy if I’m gone all night… I told him I was meeting up with an old friend for drinks. He’ll probably expect me home in the early hours” you told him, trailing your fingers lightly over his chest and arm and watching the muscles react ever so slightly to your touch. “It sucks being a little sister…”

Dean moaned, burying his head in your hair. “Stay anyway… tell him you crashed at your friend’s house. Trust me, sweetheart, I am nowhere near done with you tonight” he growled, and you felt his hand travel from your back to your waist before moving slowly upwards until his fingers were just grazing your breast.

Giggling, you knocked his hand away and threw your leg over his waist so that you were straddling him, your hands planted on either side of his head as you stared down at him. “Good, cos I don’t feel done with you, either. We still have time though… so definitely up for round two” you told him, leaning down and brushing your nose against his.

He reached forward and seized your lips with his, his hands resting on your waist. When you broke apart, you saw his eyes flick to the clock on the bedside table before returning to meet your gaze. “You sure you have to leave?” he practically whined, slumping his head back down on the pillow.

You tilted your head slightly and gazed down at him with a lopsided, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry” you started, putting your weight on just one hand as you ran the other through his hair, “but you know what my brother is like… he’ll let me go off and take out a werewolf by myself, but god forbid I spend the night with a friend. And you know he’d just combust if he ever found out I was actually sneaking around with a guy, let alone a freaking Winchester!”

Dean chuckled at that, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly. “I still don’t get why he hates us…” he laughed, “and I’ll admit, it does kinda make what we have that bit hotter. Forbidden, y’know?”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk as you leant down closer, so that your lips just grazed his ear. “Just as long as it stays that” you murmured, rolling your hips and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Dean as you ground down against his hardening length. “I’ll be your dirty little secret for-”

He didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence as he flipped you over onto your back, you yelping in surprise at his sudden movement.

“We should probably stop wasting time talking about this” he mumbled, kissing and biting down your neck.

You tried to respond, but once Dean’s mouth reached your breast, you were rendered completely useless and at his mercy.

Thank god you still had a few hours to kill.

5SOS PREFERENCES #98: HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER...
  • A/N: Well, if you have watched the show "How I Met Your Mother", then you might understand what I'm doing here. If you haven't, you can read and understand it just as well.
  • Luke: "Great day writing today, huh", Michael commented, taking a sip from his scotch. "Yeah, yeah", Luke dazed off, eyes fixed on you. "Woah, man, what got you so hypnotized?", his friend asked, turning around to follow Luke's gaze. "What, nothing. It's nothing", he tried to get Michael's attention, but it was too late. He had seen you. "Oh, she's hot", Michael smirked, turning back to face Luke. "And you're totally going to go all Playbook on her", Luke sighed. "No, bro. I'd never do that to you", Michael exclaimed offended. "Of course you would!", Luke argued. "Well, this time it's different, Luke. You're my best bro and you've got your eyes on a very hot chick. So this is my call", he started. "Oh no", Luke said. "Yes, Luke, my bro. It's time to play -". "Oh no", Luke face palmed. "Have you met Luke?", Michael smiled, prolonging the 'a'. "No", Luke stated, "You're not doing that". But it was too late, Michael had already stood up and walked over to you. Luke could read his mouth forming a 'have you met Luke?', as he pointed over to where his friend sat and walked away. "Hi, Luke", you giggled reaching out your hand. "Hey", he smiled, shaking it.
  • Ashton: "Hey, babe", Ashton said in your ear, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. "Hi", you giggled, pressing your lips on his, "Where's Luke?". "He's down at the bar with Michael, I think", Ashton insisted on kissing your shoulder, taking off your shirt. "Woah, looks like you're eager", you joked, taking his shirt off as well. "We'll see who's the eager one later one", he winked, lifting you up. And that's the reason why you and Ashton were laying naked and sweaty on the kitchen floor. "Well, that was something new", you mentioned to the whole 'we don't have time to get to the bedroom so let's just do it in the kitchen' thing. "Yeah", Ashton smiled, kissing your cheek, "Damn, where are my pants?". "Somewhere here", you shrugged. "Fuck, where are they?", he stood up, looking around like a freak. "Ashton, why are you so freaked out about losing your pants?", you asked, not understanding his actions. "It's not about the pants, it's about something that's on my pocket", he looked through a pile of clothes you had thrown anywhere, "Found it". Slowly, he made his way back to your side. "So, what was it that was so important in it?", you asked, resting your weight on your elbows. "(Y/N)", he said, taking a small black box from his pocket, "Ever since I met you in college, I knew you were going to be the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And I know it took us a long way to get where we are, and I know that it wasn't easy. But we were here for each other", you gasped as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful engagement ring, "So, (Y/N), will you marry me?". "Yes! Yes!", you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and kissing him passionately. "I love you", you said while he slipped the ring onto your finger. "I love you too". "Guys! I have a dat - Oh shit! Not on the kitchen!", you heard Luke's voice from the front door.
  • Michael: "(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)", Michael told you as you sat on the bar. "Michael, Michael, Michael", you repeated. "It's quite interesting how we are the ones that are always left single, huh?", he made a mention to Luke, that was currently on an on and off relationship, and Ashton, who was engaged. "It is, indeed", you nodded. "I think this might be a sign that we should be each other's wing man", he said, "Or woman". "Are you serious?", you laughed at the stupid idea. "C'mon, (Y/N), it would be legen -", he made a pause, "Wait for it", another one", Wait for it", one more, "Dary", he finished his sentence. "I'm not going to help you pick up dumb girls with daddy issues so you can help them have even more issues", you replied, rolling your eyes. "What makes you think I only hook up with dumb girls?", Michael asked, truly offended. "Everyone sees you flirting, Michael. Only the dumbest of the dumbest would fall for your tricks". Oh really?", he asked, leaning in the table. "Really", you replied, leaning as well. "So I'm going to make a bet with you, okay?", he said, "I'm going to get the smartest girl on this bar home with me tonight". "I'd like to see that", you scoffed, "If you lose, what do I win?". "I'll never ask you to be my wing woman again", Michael explained, "And if I win, I get to take you on a date". "Weird", you pondered, "But acceptable". "Let the games begin", he smiled. "Let the games begin". The next morning, you woke up next to Michael on his bed. Naked.
  • Calum: "Calum!", Michael announced, "Today you shall get laid". "Why?", Calum chuckled to himself. "Because bros help each others", he shrugged, "Point me to the hottest girl you see in the room". Calum's eyes looked around the room 'till they landed on you - he was completely wrapped around your finger before you even exchanged a word. "Hm", Michael said thoughtfully, following his gaze, "Interesting choice". "What?", Calum asked confused. "Don't fear, my friend. She'll be yours by the end of the night", Michael patted Calum on the shoulder, walking off to where you stood talking to your friends. He watched intently as Michael said something to you, smirking as he did so. Your face went from happy to angry by the time he had finished what he was saying, slapping him on the face and throwing your drink on him. Michael faked despair, putting his hand on his face and making a 'o' with his mouth. But, as you walked off to the bar, where Calum sat, he turned around, smiling and giving his friend's a thumbs up. "Rough day?", Calum made small talk, turning to look at you. "More like tired of idiots flirting with me like I'm an object", you sighed, rolling your eyes. "That's stupid", Calum agreed, "I'm Calum, by the way". "(Y/N)".

anonymous asked:

jim and his tummy are important to me for lots of reasons, one being, well don't laugh at me for this, but it makes me feel better about not being skinny? I'm chubby right now and he was and he got bigger as he got older but everyone always loved him and it never held him back from anything and he didn't care and it makes me feel better about my body. is that totally silly?

This isn’t silly at all. Representation is so important. SO IMPORTANT.

Honestly speaking? Jim helped me get over my own weight issues. I spent the majority of my life hating the reflection of my body. I struggled with an eating disorder for years. I was anorexic and would starve myself. When it finally came to the point where there was an absolute need to eat, it was awful. I felt so much guilt. Like literal guilt that what I was eating was just being wasted by my consuming it. Like I didn’t deserve to eat.

Because of that, I was anemic and exhausted all the time. But worse than all of the physical symptoms was how I mentally felt.

It sucks. It really, really sucks when you look in the mirror and you hate what you see. I was so thin and yet never thin enough. It ruled my life. Not good enough, never good enough, not thin enough. Over and over and over.

Fast forward to today. Thyroid issues made me gain a lot of weight and I had a world of trouble coping with that.

Today, though? I know I’m not thin. I have some padding and tbh it’s just whatever because fuck beauty standards. There is no standard. You’re hot no matter what you look like. idc if you’re a size 2 or 22. idc if you’re age 18 or 68. Skin color, makeup, no makeup, whatever. You’re beautiful and I hope you feel beautiful.

Back to your point, I relate. After all of that shit and years upon years of self-loathing, I’m confident today. I identify with Jim so much and I took a lot of comfort in knowing that Bill could continue to portray him as he gained weight and aged. And tbh? I’ve never ever found him unattractive. I know a ton of people agree with me.

So, no. You’re not silly at all. I think you should absolutely love yourself because there’s only one of you and that’s damn fucking special. <333 Companies use our insecurities to their advantages. They want to convince us there’s a cookie-cutter shape of beauty so we’ll buy their shit.

There isn’t. Don’t let them convince you of that. <3 There’s only one of you so treasure yourself. <3

OH MY GOD. 

I can’t believe I let myself reach that stage (and that’s not even the biggest I’ve been in my life, I found another picture from 2010 and I was even worse -HOW??). But seeing how much has changed, I’m so proud of myself.

This is not even the end of my journey, I’d say I’m halfway now, but it is reassuring to know that it is possible, that I’m not that person that I used to be. I’m so thankful for the progress I’ve made (weight and fitness-wise, but not only).

Never, ever give up, keep pushing, especially when you think you are never going to make it. Because then, no one will be able to take away the feeling of satisfaction, of accomplishing something entirely by yourself, from you.

  • Left (August 2013) 82 kg/180 lbs (I think?)
  • Right (July 2014) 70 kg/154 lbs - through controlled healthy eating with the occasional treat (hey, I didn’t say I’m perfect!) and hitting the gym 4/5 times a week (mostly cardio circuit training with weight lifting or good old weight lifting, some running at times)
  • Height 158 cm (5’ 2)

 

___________________________________________________________

Chiara defitnitelymaybe

10

Nathan, it’s been said there’s one word that will free us from the weight and pain of life. And that word is Love. And I believe that. That doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been hard or that it won’t be. It just means that I found a stillness and a bravery in myself with you. You make me brave. And I will love you until the end of time. This I vow today.

A forgotten accordion
of folding chairs
parked on a porch
carry snow, heavy
on their shoulders.

They hold in breath
the same way you used to
right before I would throw
the last shovel of coal
on the fire between
your thighs
just to watch
your entire house
go up in flames.

Do you remember
when we found the hive
of dead bees in the backyard
of that deserted house?
How we smashed it open
with the rust-covered ax?
How we dug out the bees
with tiny sticks
so we could cup them
in our hands
& blow them off
on to one another’s legs
just to hear each other
scream?

All I ever wanted to do
was eat the weight
off your world.

Devour it all
until I was so fat
with your darkness
that you’d leave me,

that you’d walk away,
luminous
in your own skin.

—  Stranded ✮ Amanda Oaks

anonymous asked:

i need one where harrys really sick like throwing up and you help him and hes kind of shocked because no ones ever treated him so well

Moments after Harry had finished getting sick into the toilet bowl, you managed as much weight of yours as you could in order to get him back into his bed. A clammy arm had found its way around your stomach, and Harry had used that leverage on you to prop himself up, but it was mostly you who lugged him across the heated floors – and that surprised Harry. What surprised him even more is how you convinced him to let you stay. 

“I’m not leaving you here alone, Harry,” you murmured, pushing a curl back behind his ear. “What if you get sick again and need to move yourself from room to room? You could barely pick your own self up." 

Harry tried to smile, but it slipped off his face weakly. "Thank you for ruining my man ego.” His voice was sickly and low in his throat, like he was holding himself back from a coughing fit, but his eyes were red and splotchy and his throat began to bloom in a color of red and his stomach churned. He felt awful, his forehead gleamed with a sheen of sweat, and you had been worried. 

“Please let me stay. I’ll even run to the store for you to pick up some Gatorade and that ridiculous alphabet soup you like to make naughty words with." 

Harry’s persistence deflated and he nodded, because the sound of someone taking care of him for once made him feel like he would be able to sleep for a while. You watched him, and he could almost detect the sadness in your eyes, and soon you were leaning over and pressing your lips to his forehead, leaving them there to linger your affection for him. 

"None of the boys have done this for you when you were poorly on tour?”

“Niall hates throw up, Zayn’s too pretty for it, Liam would try to help because he’s too good but then he would get sick just from seeing me become sick and all Louis did was tell me to wait for someone else to clean it up." 

Miraculously, by the time he was done speaking, and even if his voice was quickly becoming weaker, he was smiling. You mimicked the action and spread your hand across his chest, letting his steady heartbeat hum underneath your palm. 

You whispered, "Gonna take care of you, alright? Always. Whenever you need it." 

Harry would have really liked to kiss you then, but even after brushing his teeth, his mouth still felt funny and he was sure he was contagious – but you still stayed. 

"Okay,” he replied in a whisper, his voice a bit smaller than yours, and he made grabby hands so he could pull you into his chest. “Think you’re much better than anyone else in this entire world.”

i post a lot of mom stuff.  i read a ton of parenting crap.  i subscribe to certain methods and blow off others, but generally speaking, i’m basically clueless about how to make this tiny person grow into a strong, smart, kind human being.

but of all the things i read about and hear and see discussed, the one that comes up time and time again, no matter where i look or who i talk to, is breastfeeding.

before having Jude i knew i wanted to try, but i also knew that it takes a big up-front effort and doesn’t come easily to some babies and moms, so i told myself that if it would be ok if it didn’t work after giving it the ‘ol college try.

it ended up working fine for us, and i still nurse Jude every day.  i love holding him close and smelling his baby smells and feeling his (ever increasing) weight in my arms, but i know i these moments would be special to us even if he wasn’t on my boob.

i found this photo while sorting through a bunch to try to find “a good one” for our Christmas card (an exercise in futility if ever there was one).  i don’t know if you can tell, but i’m nursing Jude.  our friend who took the picture didn’t realize it until afterwards, when he was scrolling through all the shots on his roll.  he apologized for taking it, but i told him that i didn’t mind, that i would have gone somewhere else to nurse if i cared about him seeing anything.  but in reality, you can’t see anything, can you?  i mean, he didn’t even know what i was doing and we were joking and chatting the whole time.

i think i’m pretty modest and am definitely no exhibitionist, but i never cover when i’m nursing.  it’s just one more extra step/thing to carry/distraction that i’d rather not deal with.  when Jude was a wee babe and we were still getting a hang of things, i planned outings around nursing and would go to another room if people were over (as much for their comfort as for my own), but these days i just do it when and where we need to.  i’m much more comfortable, Jude is much more efficient, and i’ve found that if i don’t make a big deal of it others won’t either (if they even notice).  Chris, unsurprisingly, has been a supportive partner from Day 1.

i guess this is just my $.02 to all the breastfeeding conversations i see (the ones about nursing in public, not the ones that try to dictate whether a mother should or should not breastfeed and shame those who don’t for whatever reason - that’s a whole other shitshow).  i think breastfeeding is wonderful.  i’m glad i have this photo.  i think that when and where and how to do it is up to mother and child, and i think that everyone who says otherwise should fuck off.

tl;dr

here is a photo of me nursing my baby.  isn’t it scandalous?

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And there she was, The Inkpot! With sails as white as paper and thousands of storytellers engraved in her sides. Never had there been a ship more majestic or awe-inspiring to cross the oceans of this world or another.

On board, the most lethal and literate crew to ever roam the seven seas. Plundering libraries and pillaging bookstores all over the world and making their enemies tremble in fear.
The bookworms sailing under Captain Em’s flag were fearless, ferocious and utterly story-hungry. Their treasure wasn’t found in gold but in ink.

Below deck, next to the kitchen and cabins, the most well-guarded library to ever sail the waters.
How the weight of the books did not sink the ship, no one knew. 
Perhaps the magic of stories helped keeping it afloat.

I was a little bored, so I made this…Thought my Captain (alibraryismyparadise) and Crew might like this.