National Breastfeeding Awareness Week

Breastfeeding: I breastfeed because I like it. Because my baby likes it. Because it never occurred to me not to, until it was mentioned in an NHS antenatal class - "Are you planning to breast or bottlefeed?" - when I didn't understand how anyone would plan to bottlefeed, since it obviously meant far more work - mixing, sterilising, washing... so I breastfeed because I'm lazy.

I breastfeed because I'm selfish. When I first saw Rob feed Linnea from a bottle of expressed milk, I felt rabidly jealous. It's a glorious ready-made excuse not to leave my baby when I don't want to - and, oddly enough, I don't want to. I don't enjoy socialising without her (though I do enjoy socialising when she's asleep, which isn't quite the same thing). I miss her when we're apart, even when I'm too sick or too tired to be with her. I'm unwell now, and breastfeeding her a few times a day has been a precious connection with her, going some way to make up for the fact that I can't play with her or look after her right now.

I breastfeed because I'm clutchfisted. Regular formula is expensive enough, but have you seen the cost of hypoallergenic formula? And Linnea has a dairy intolerance. And when we were out with friends, and we stayed out later than we expected, our friends would have to buy little cartons of ready-mixed formula for their babies, and they were extortionate. Wow.

And yes, I breastfeed because it's healthier for her, and for me, and because of all the health benefits it will give her now and for years to come. Sure I do. But I'm not kidding anyone - I never had to test my dedication to breastfeeding. It was never difficult, once we'd gotten over the first few weeks of chapped nipples and nipple shields and mastitis and so on. That really wasn't noticable compared to my real health problems at the time. I never found my blood in her nappies, never dreaded the agony of latching on, none of that. I was very lucky. Presumably, if breastfeeding had been hard, I would have breastfed anyway, for health reasons. But it wasn't, so they're not top of the list.

Extended breastfeeding: This is when you don't suddenly stop breastfeeding. I haven't suddenly stopped breastfeeding at a year, so now I'm an Extended Breastfeeder, which prompts frankly alarming images of racks and innovative uses for thumbscrews. I'm breastfeeding a baby old enough to walk up to me, climb onto my lap, raise my shirt, and complain when I'm not quick enough to get the goods out. That makes me an Extended Breastfeeder. Possibly even an Extreme Breastfeeder, though that makes me think I ought to be breastfeeding while climbing Canada Tower or ironing or something (I have breastfed while ironing. When she was "small", that was easy enough to do. I breastfed while washing dishes, too - and no, I didn't use a sling).

But none of this was supposed to be a political statement. I thought that's what happened - baby grows in mummy's tummy, baby is born through mummy's bellybutton (oh don't we wish!), baby feeds from mummy's milk. Baby cries, baby gets cuddles. Baby hungry, baby gets fed. Baby tired, baby gets snuggled to sleep.

It's not normal! It's a weird hippie cult middle-class spare-the-rod-and-spoil-the-child thing called Attachament Parenting or something, and it has its own One True Wayists and set of acronyms and everything! I'm a SAHM AP BF and my LO loves it, but I'm confused! I'm part of a movement!

You can get anything you want, at Alice's restaurant...

And still they come

Rob and Linnea both have oozy eyes. In addition, Rob's eyes are bloodshot, and feel gritty and sore. They are filming over periodically and making it hard to see.

Chances are they both have conjunctivitis. Rob was going to take Linnea to clinic to ask about her gooey eyes yesterday but events overtook him, so we're going to give her my GP appointment tomorrow instead. He only developed symptoms today as far as we know.

Today I managed to get up and stand long enough to have a shower. I feel much better for it.