Abby's Alley

A mother's milk doesn't come in until 3 to 4 days after the baby is born. In the meantime, the baby sucks very small amounts of colostrum from the breast. Some hospitals give baby formula. I hear in the olden days, Moms gave their babies water while waiting for their milk to come in.  Being stressed out or tense can delay the milk from coming in. When the milk does come in, it hurts. It feels like someone tried to stuff too many oranges under your skin.  Letdowns— a reflex that releases milk from the breast, usually activated by the baby sucking—can hurt too. It feels like someone pressing on a bruise from the inside mixed with a tingling-like, appendage-just-fell-asleep sensation. When nursing and experiencing a letdown, both breasts release milk, and if you're not wearing nursing pads, you may leak onto your clothes.  Letdowns occur even when not nursing or even thinking about your baby. They happen when you aren't ready and aren't wearing nursing pads.

I Will Love You Anyway by Mick Inkpen. A great rhyming book with illustrations that really capture the attitude of a hyper little dog. The story can also be used as a spring board to talk about how parents love their children or how God loves us, but certainly I don't think it was intended to do this. (Book Rating: 8) The Empty Pot  and The Greatest Treasure  by Demi. I was very impressed with these Chinese parable-like books that teach honesty and contentment and the proper handling of money. The pictures have plenty for children to explore and the morals didn't feel contrived or forced. (Book Rating: 8) The High Street  by Alice Melvin: Another great rhyming book with opening flaps and things for children to find. I like the old-timey illustrations. It's about a girl who's going to various shops to find different things to buy. (Book Rating: 8) Return by Aaron Becker: I've previously lauded this author and his wordless prequels: Journey and Quest .This o

Why does it feel like I'm giving myself instructions whenever I raise my voice at my children to shout, "Would everyone stop yelling at each other!"  This mothering business is like looking into those 3D hidden pictures where I have to cross my eyes to see the picture pop out, but this hidden picture is a portrait of myself. My kids are little mini-versions of myself. And I don't mean that they look like me or even that they have similar personalities as me. I mean that adults are just kids in bigger bodies. Here's what I mean.  "Mommy? Can I use your scissors?" "No." "Why?" "Because last time you used them, you didn't put them away." "But I'll put them away this time." "You didn't put them away last time and I even reminded you." "But I really need them." "Too bad." "How about I use them just to cut this little piece?" "No." &qu