Pop Discourse

Baby Steps

Christine Koh — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 20:00:33 +0000

Ever since getting over my formula stigma, I’ve felt so much lighter. I’ve still been nursing Vi, but also introducing bottles of SnuggleMilk. And last night was notable in that I dropped the bedtime nursing — Vi was so totally fine with it.

Which means, now we just nurse in the morning. I don’t have to juggle evening plans around nursing. I can stop wearing nursing bras. I can put my pump away (that, my friends, will be a welcome goodbye). The transition has (knock on wood) been so easy that it looks like I will be able to stop nursing altogether in the next week or so, before I leave for BlissDom. Knowing me, I’ll want to stop right at Violet’s 11-month mark. Easy to remember. Easy to hold on to.

Other little but big feeding things have happened too. The other week, Laurel and Vi enjoyed the same snack together for the first time (pictured) — one snack box! Last night, they both ate the same macaroni and cheese — one step closer to making them the same dinner! Vi still doesn’t have teeth, but she can definitely squish whole blueberries (even big ones) with her gums — one less thing for me to cut up!

All of these things seem like such minor little baby steps but they also make me incredibly nostalgic. I can’t believe Violet’s birthday is next month. Despite my grousing about pumping, I can’t believe she will stop nursing soon. I can’t believe she will be walking soon. Last weekend I visited with my friend Nicola — as I cuddled her 3-month-old son, it felt so trite but I kept thinking, “Really? Was Violet ever this teeny tiny and fragile seeming? She’s such a big baby panda bear now.”

These days I’ve been a little distracted as Violet’s upcoming birthday brings with it some bigger and unresolved and painful issues I have with one of my family members. But I’m trying to not fret about what I have come to realize I cannot fix. Some days are easier than others. Either way, I look around, feel gratitude, and focus on the baby steps.

Cake & Penguins

Christine Koh — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 18:25:57 +0000

Laurel is always making something. Today, I feel compelled to share two of those things.

Laurel recently wrote a letter to Buddy (aka Cake Boss) after watching Next Great Baker a couple of weeks ago (my bad, I still need to get this letter in the mail). I asked her if I could post the letter and she said no, only the photo, but she did say I could share the gist of the letter. Which was to express her concern about potential discrimination against and elimination of contestant Heather, due to her pregnancy. I love that Laurel feels compelled to write letters, whether in support of ducks or pregnant people. And this picture will accompany the letter — Laurel is very into sketching cakes as you can tell. I think this is totally awesome.

This week I found myself rambling to Laurel about how much I love penguins. She immediately dove into her craft cabinet and started working on this incredible pop-up penguin family portrait. I love that we’re all holding ice cream cones. The note says: “Dear Mom, I know you love penguins so here is a card. I love you very much. Signed, Laurel.”

Oh. my. heart.

The First Bottle

Christine Koh — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 19:59:17 +0000

This weekend I fed Violet a bottle for the first time. Ever. She’s almost 10 months old, so that probably sounds completely crazy, but given that I’ve been nursing, I’ve always passed the bottle to someone else.

People were so incredibly supportive when I posted about my internal struggles with feeding Violet SnuggleMilk, so I wanted to share an update on what happened after I published that post.

With each comment and e-mail I exchanged regarding that post, I grew ever more aware of how fortunate I’ve been to have nursing be so easy, how many moms wrestle with this same exact situation, and the insane amount of judgment and guilt there is regarding breastfeeding and formula. Bit by bit, my shards of self-judgment started to fall away. By the time I cracked open the can of formula I had, there were no tears. Only pure and utter relief that I could top up the two 3.5 ounce bottles I had pumped for Violet for day care, up to the 5 ounces I thought she needed. I asked the teachers how she did with the bottles. She inhaled them.

This was a couple of weeks ago, and this past weekend I decided I wanted to start weaning. Until this weekend I’ve been nursing four times a day (minimally) – usually first thing in the morning, twice a day for snacktimes, and before bedtime. The goal? To say goodbye to my pump during the day. And finish nursing by next month, when Violet is about 11 months old. My body is pretty tired. Violet still doesn’t have teeth, but what she lacks in biting, she makes up for scratching me with her little claws. Those things aside, I do love the coziness of nursing, but I hate pumping. I’m so over it. And I’m attending BlissDom next month and would like to travel pump free. I’ve flown several times with my pump since Violet’s birth and I’m so over traveling with my pump too.

I prepped a small bottle of formula – just 3 ounces. I was a little worried because Violet had never had straight formula so I didn’t want to overdo it. As I cuddled her into a nook in my arm, I was amazed to be looking at her face straight on for the first time in this situation/position (instead of looking at her profile, attached to my breast). Her eyes were so round, her face so chubby and happy and expectant. I had a brief moment of wondering, would she reject this bottle, coming from me?

No. We cuddled. I stroked her sweet face, just as I do when she’s nursing. I listened to the rhythm of her swallows, just as I do when she’s nursing. I wondered where the time has gone, just as I do when she’s nursing. She drank every last drop of that bottle. And all the others we presented to her during the weekend. And changing brands (I bought an organic brand to follow the samples we finished) didn’t phase her at all.

Because at the end of the day, it was just us – a mama and her baby feeding and cuddling. Thank you everyone who helped me transform what I knew intellectually into what I felt. I feel so much freer.

Life Lists Work in Mysterious Ways

Christine Koh — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 20:32:58 +0000

I know the universe is driving the bus, yet I’m still amazed by how it put some of my life list items front and center in the last month. Here’s some crazy awesome stuff that happened:

1. In December I crossed #3 (Take my Mom on some kind of fun adventure/vacation) off my list, inspired by a press invite to St. Thomas. I paid to take my Mom with me — it was an amazing, amazing trip. I had many teary moments…after a challenging life raising seven kids and running businesses with my Dad, this was the first time I’ve ever seen her truly unwind and just be.

2. I mentioned at Camp Mighty about wanting to get my ass in gear about one of my two book ideas (#16. Write the book that has been percolating in my mind since Blissdom 2010). I asked my roommate Asha Dornfest if she would write one of them with me. Because she is brilliant and awesome and perfectly suited to be the co-author of this book. Today I submitted our proposal to a publisher who approached me after she heard me speak at Pivot Boston.

3. Last month I was incredibly sad to have to back out of Alt Summit. Not only was I psyched to go (it was my favorite conference last year), but the amazing Gabrielle Blair was helping with one of my life list items (#19. Be the subject of a fashion photo shoot.) via a design camp where I would be the model. I’m still incredibly sad not to be attending this conference, but here’s the weird thing: Literally the day after I sold my Alt ticket, my friend Alex Hall of the Improper Bostonian e-mailed me to ask me to be the subject of a style shoot. The shoot happened on December 21 and I am sort of pee in my pants nervous to see how the photos came out. It was absurdly fun and I will share images here pending the photographer’s approval.

4. Finally, last month, after a year long series of mishaps, I learned to play a song on my mandolin (actually, mandola) re: #36. Learn to play the mandolin or banjo. I even tossed it up on You Tube. Now I’m learning to rock Beatles tunes.

Amazing. I’m still stunned by all of this awesomeness. And speaking of awesomeness, today I was blown away by learning what a phenomenal artist my friend Alice is. Take a look at her holiday break sketches. I’m now even more inspired to use these pretty sketchbooks Jon gave me for Christmas.

Wishing you all awesomeness in 2012. xoxoxo

Crafty Signs From the Universe

Christine Koh — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 21:13:40 +0000

Last week Laurel asked me to make a stocking for Violet to match the ones I made for our family of three a couple of years ago. As I rooted around my fabric bag to see what felt pieces I had kicking around (key requirement of my design was to make do with whatever I had on hand), I was surprised to find the original paper template I drew for the first set of stockings. I didn’t remember saving it.

And then the only piece of felt I had that was large enough for the front and back pieces of the stocking was the same yellow as Laurel’s.

And then I found three perfect shades of purple to make violets on the stocking.

Clearly, these must be crafty signs from the universe that Violet was meant to be with us. Welcome to your first Christmas sweet little chunkamonks.

Musical Rebirth. Complete With a Crack.

Christine Koh — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 20:26:40 +0000

At first this was going to be a post about what seemed like a multi-pronged attempt by a guy at a local music shop to thwart my attempts to play music again. In a nutshell, I told the music store guy that I wanted to learn to play mandolin (same tuning as violin, I figured it would make it easy for me to play). He sold me one. I later learned that there was something broken inside the instrument. He fixed it. After driving myself crazy trying to follow tutorials on YouTube and having everything sound wrong, I Google’d about the make of my instrument and realized that the guy sold us a mandola not a mandolin — same instrument family, but the tuning is that of a viola not a violin so my spatial/notation map was totally off (I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t realize the tuning difference right off but hey, I haven’t played my violin in a really long time…also, before that day I never knew that there was such a thing as a mandola). Oh, and then in an attempt to keep Violet from knocking over Jon’s electric guitar, I cracked the mandola.

O.M.G.

This sequence of mishaps made me realize that this post needs to be about EMBRACING IMPERFECTION. Something I’m not usually great at but have been working on.

I will admit that I was livid when I realized that the guy at the shop not only sold us a broken instrument, but one that wasn’t even what I asked for. Violin and viola are basically one string different (viola is a lower register) but I am painfully slow at reading bass clef. And it seems like all the pop music tab out there is for mandolin. So, Jon and I discussed. Going back and arguing with the music store guy clearly was not going to bring joy. I could either sell the instrument and buy something different. Or just sell it. Or learn to play it and rely on my ear instead of on notation — admittedly, a little daunting after spending 20 years committed to sheet music.

So I decided to learn to play it –- to celebrate the beauty that is the sound of this instrument and free myself from notation and just figure out where the chords lie, which is something I never really thought much about when I played violin.

And then Neil invited me to participate in his Sixth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert and I figured this was it — a sign from the universe to get off my rump and pony up. Instead of being the Christine Koh of 10 years ago and setting my musical aspirations around perfecting the Mendelssohn violin concerto, I asked Laurel what her favorite holiday song was. She said Silent Night. I looked up the chords (thank goodness, simple) and learned them. I experimented with picking and strumming. And at the risk of sounding trite, it was like musical rebirth. A new way of playing. Joy in playing. Joy in imperfection. I actually think the instrument might sound a little better with the Violet-induced crack in it. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

And with that, I bring you my rendition of Silent Night. I have no idea if my way of picking around and strumming chords is “proper” –- I just made it up based on what sounded pretty to my ear. I hope you enjoy it. Laurel, this is dedicated to you, my sweet girl. And Neil, thanks for the inspiration to publish this. And self, go you, for embracing imperfection and tackling #36 on your life list.

Maybe Formula Should Be Called SnuggleMilk

Christine Koh — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 18:20:35 +0000

When Violet was born, I was vexed by the persistence of formula companies. I tossed the frequent mailings and coupons in the recycling. I returned the welcome gift that our pediatrician’s office gave me — a formula gift pack, oddly bestowed upon me after they asked whether I was nursing and I said yes. I stuck the samples that arrived by mail in my closet, figuring I would pass them along to someone at some point.

And now I’m writing this post, staring at those formula samples, which made their way from my closet to my desk last week.

Because I’ve been thinking about transitioning Violet to formula. And pretty much beating myself up about it. And from the number of moms I have talked to about this situation (one who confided that she wept the first time she fed her baby formula), I’m not the only one. Just yesterday, my friend Kristen posted about this very issue (which motivated me to finish this post…which has been in draft mode for a week).

I am committed to nursing. I nursed Laurel and Violet exclusively until exactly 6 months, then started introducing solids. I continued to nurse Laurel until she was just shy of 13 months. Violet will turn 9 months next week and I am still her exclusive milk source. I’m fortunate in that nursing actually is easy and convenient for me (Violet is a fast eater) but I also work and travel and despise pumping. I have hauled my pump through airport security several times while traveling for business. I even went to the trouble of searching for a mom in need when I went to Camp Mighty so I could pump and donate my liquid gold. And while I felt happy (and probably somewhat virtuous) for having done that, as I said goodbye to those 50 ounces, part of me was thinking, Sh*t, I wish I could take this home. Because by the time I get home my milk store will be almost empty.

And I need that milk store. I travel for work periodically and Violet goes to day care and it is stressful in and of itself to try to replace what Vi is consuming while at day care, much less banking extra for future travel. The other day, when my yield was low and I desperately started massaging (OK, vigorously squeezing) my breasts in an attempt to render more milk, I thought, This is insanity. I am so. over. this.

But my brain is stuck. I have had countless people (including Jon) tell me to get over it -– that I have given plenty. That I will continue to give plenty my whole life. And while intellectually, I know that this is true, I’m still struggling. With the idea of not giving to Violet the same as I did to Laurel. With the knowledge that Violet’s food source will become less pure if I start her on formula. With the dread of bracing myself for allergies or anything else in response to the formula. (Vi just recently recovered from a horrendous full body rash that I think was due to a mango allergy…and yes, one might point to the irony that I was feeding her organic mango that I steamed and pureed and froze into little nuggets myself.)

Health and bonding arguments aside, I wonder whether part of the formula stigma relates to semantics — if incorporating formula would be easier if formula was simply called milk. Formula sounds so sterile and chemical, so cold and calculating and unsnuggly. But really, if Vi is drinking from a bottle, she will in fact be snuggled while she’s being fed, whether it is breastmilk or formula.

Maybe formula should be called SnuggleMilk.

I was hoping that writing this out would help me feel resolved one way or the other. As it stands, the formula continues to sit on my desk, staring back at me. I don’t know if I will use it but I want it there as an option. One that I will not feel bad –- or be made to feel bad — about. If I decide to transition to formula, I want to continue to be proud of and happy with the fact that I have grown Violet into a chubby, remarkably cheerful little person. And that I will feel confident that whether Violet drinks my breastmilk or SnuggleMilk (wow, I already feel much better just calling it that…), she will continue to grow and be loved and be awesome.

A Week of Perfect Lunches

Christine Koh — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 17:17:23 +0000

The most common misunderstanding I hear repeated about Twitter is that all people ever do is tweet about what they ate for lunch. Not wishing to contribute to this misnomer, instead, I will dedicate a blog post to lunch.

Why? Because in an ideal world, I like to be mindful while I’m eating my lunch — savoring each bite, reveling in my company. However, the reality is that usually I’m eating lunch hastily on the go or in my office. I’ve been a little frantic lately.

This week, however, was unusual in that I enjoyed lunch with other human beings almost every day. Sometimes a lot of them. And I’ve savored lots of bites. It’s been a week of perfect lunches.

On Monday I had lunch with my friends C.C. and Audrey. It was social yet of course we chatted business too. I love C.C. and Audrey for being incredibly warm, smart, and talented people who clearly love their spouses and kids. I think all of these elements factor into why they make stuff happen and why they’re both so successful. Also, I enjoyed a seafood Cobb salad as big as my head.

Image credit: C.C. Chapman

Part of the crazy right now is that I have more work but less childcare than ever, as we cobble together a new arrangement. On Tuesday, Jon and I split the workday — he arrived home armed with amazing falafel roll up sandwiches for lunch. What a joy it was to sit and chat in the warm sunlight together. It was almost like a date, with the exception of Violet babbling in her high chair between us.

On Wednesday I was off with Violet and ended up having an impromptu lunch with my girlfriend Nicola. Bento boxes and Starbucks and babies (mine 8 months, hers 10 days old) were involved. It was awesome.

On Thursday I enjoyed lunch with 6,999 other women at the Mass. Conference for Women. It was my first year attending the conference and I was amazed by the energy and connection happening there. I got to see my peeps Jo and Cindy from Isis, hang with my business partner Morra (who was the reason I was at the conference in the first place…we provided social media consults for attendees…so fun!), and meet other cool people. And apparently the lunch (chick pea and vegetable salad with chicken) was catered by Canyon Ranch, which made me think of the fantastic visit my girlfriend Heidi and I made there many years ago.

And today — Friday — I just finished my first quiet lunch at home this week. I’m tired (Violet is sick and isn’t sleeping well), trying to stave off a cold, yet in good spirits. I’m wearing comfy clothes and just savored every bite of a bowl of soup.

Thank you, universe, for wonderful friends and family and food. I am grateful every day.

For Afton Jean

Christine Koh — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 01:57:00 +0000

Every day I feel gratitude for Laurel and Violet; I truly do. But I have squeezed them extra tight every day since learning about Kami Bigler’s daughter Afton Jean being born at 26 weeks (12.7 ounces). If you have not yet read Kami’s posts, you should. They reflect incredible courage and grace — Kami’s positive, light-filled spirit seems near impossible in the face of what she and her family have endured; she inspires me to be better.

I learned from my friend Allison that a fund has been set up to help Kami’s family. I have seen firsthand how this community can make awesome things happen — I’ve contributed to fundraisers and spearheaded them myself. After I publish this post I will head over to Paypal (via the button below) to make a donation. I hope you will consider doing so too.

If you want to grab a share button, you can do so at Allison’s site.

A Sister’s Warning

Christine Koh — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 17:51:41 +0000

I just dropped Violet off for a short “test drive” visit at her new day care. Things are so different than when I went through this with Laurel. Violet barely noticed when I kissed her goodbye and departed (kudos to the distracting snack puffs…) and I did not sob when I left the parking lot.

Meanwhile, I love the note that Laurel inserted into Violet’s paperwork folder. Her words of warning to the day care director:

Dear __________,

Violet likes to be held. If she is playing or sleeping my advice is to not pick or wake her up. She is very picky so be ready. She likes to pull up so keep an eye on her. Make sure you don’t step on her because she crawls a lot. Keep the door closed at all times except when people are coming in and going out. Make sure the gate is closed same as the door. Closed except when people are going in and out. She is always on the move so keep another eye on her. I’m sorry to say this but she is sweet but also troublesome.

Sincerely, Laurel

Even if I were sobbing like a baby, I suspect reading this note would turn my mood around. I crack up every time I read it.