Feed Me, I'm Yours

When Lukas and Jasper were born, my job of growing twin babies both ended and began all at once. While I was no longer required to incubate them inside my body, I was just as responsible as I'd always been for nourishing them and helping them to grow. In the absence of their umbilical cords, both babies attached themselves to my body by latching on to my breasts and remaining that way for nearly 24 hours out of every day. I had thought that holding nearly 15 pounds of wiggling baby inside my womb was the hardest thing I'd ever done until I began breastfeeding.

Tandem nursing at one week post-partum

I was so fascinated by the process of breastfeeding (I could make milk!), and so determined to be successful with at least one of my pre-pregnancy goals (since I had "failed" terribly, in my opinion, in the pregnancy and birthing departments) that I persevered with exclusively nursing my babies, despite numerous obstacles (mastitis, a systemic yeast infection, chronic plugged ducts, and babies who wanted to nurse nearly all the time). But it took a lot out of me. My life revolved around my breasts and feeding my babies.

My view for several months
(Luke on the left, Jaz on the right)

When it came time to introduce solid foods--Luke and Jaz were 6 months old and seemed "ready"--I was less than enthused. Breastfeeding was finally going well (i.e. I was not in pain and the babies were no longer nursing for hours at a time), and I couldn't really imagine investing any more energy in feeding my children. But, I felt like I should want to feed them, and so I at least pretended to be inspired. I shelled the organic peas. I steamed the organic peas. I mashed the organic peas and filled ice cube trays with organic green mush to freeze. I tried to feed the organic homemade babyfood to my offspring. They wanted nothing to do with it. And that was it for me. I was done with spoon feeding.

From then on, we took a very laid-back approach to feeding the kids. If they wanted to eat something off of our plates, we'd let them, but they didn't really start eating solid food until around their first birthday. And even then they still subsisted mostly on breastmilk, with the occassional banana or bowl of applesauce when they were feeling adventurous. The fact that my toddlers didn't eat anything was totally fine with me. I was still spending huge amounts of time nursing them, and I loved that I could feed them so effortlessly. I didn't have to plan ahead or pack snacks or worry about what to serve for dinner. The kids nursed all day long everywhere we went, and it was a completely mindless experience for me.

Luke feeding himself some applesauce at 11.5 months

Of course, all of this breastmilk loveliness had to come to an end eventually, and soon after their second birthday, Luke and Jaz started demanding more than just nursing. They wanted food. And they wanted it now. From 5:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m., my children repeated variations on "I'm hungry!" "I'm starving!" "I want a snack!" "What is there to eat?!" There was no end in sight. And this is when I first realized my biggest deficiency as a mother: I do not enjoy feeding my children. This is a pretty big deal, and I'd love to know what went wrong in my development for me to end up this way. I mean, isn't the feeding of the children the most critical job of the mother? My own mother could hardly wait to start feeding my children. She always has all sorts of cute food presentation ideas and really seems to get pleasure out of preparing food and watching it disappear into the bottomless pits of Lukas and Jasper's stomachs.

I've decided that the reason for my embarassing failure as a mother is due to the huge amount of passion I've felt about breastfeeding. It's like I just used up all of the creative food preparation energy in making and supplying breastmilk, and there wasn't any left over for, you know, the rest of my children's lives. Which is a real shame, since breastfeeding lasted all of 3 years with Luke and Jaz, and I think I have to keep feeding them until they're at least 18 or so. We'll see if I get any more inspired about food preparation when I'm no longer nursing . . . assuming, of course, that there will come a day when I'm no longer nursing.

The real problem with my lack of enthusiasm about feeding the kids is that I really hate making their snacks and lunches for school. Something that could be exceptionally fun is just such a chore for me. If I could hire someone to do something for our family, this is what I would choose: I would pay someone to come every morning and make the kids' lunches. And then to return at the end of the day and rinse out the lunch boxes. When I was on the crew team in college, we practiced for several hours everyday, often morning and night. I wrote in my journal: "I feel like every time I open my eyes, I'm rowing behind Melissa Cala-Cruz." And now, it seems that every time I open my eyes, I'm making lunches for the kids. It's just so never-ending. My success one day means nothing. I still have to do it again the next day. And the next day. And the next. I think this is part of why I--and many other crafty mamas--get so into making things. Because it feels so good to make something that doesn't just get unmade, only for you to have to make it over again.

L to R: Zeben's lunch, Jasper's lunch, Lukas' lunch

We use these really neat lunchboxes that probably should make the job of lunch-making much easier for me, but I'm not sure that they do. I see the four little containers in each lunch box, and I just feel so much pressure. Trying to think up exciting foods--or at the very least, foods that the kids will actually eat--for each of my 3 picky children often causes my mind to simply freeze. I'll stare blankly at the open lunch boxes, and my wife will ask, "are you okay?" And I'll respond with a mix of panic and desperation, "I just need to think of one. more. thing."

It was what I was most looking forward to in regards to our recent 18-day "vacation." I would not have to pack any lunches. It was kind of like when I was pregnant with Zeben and I would tell people, "I'm just so excited to have only one baby!" And everyone would be like, "um, but, you'll still have your twins, right?" Just because I didn't have to pack any lunches didn't exactly mean that I didn't have to make any lunches. But, still, for whatever reason, feeding the kids when they're home feels much easier to me. Luke and Jaz generally graze all day long, and I don't have to plan out and prepare 6 hours worth of food all at once. That said, I have noticed that when I'm home alone with Zeben, I often forget to feed him anything (besides breastmilk) all day long. He still asks to nurse when he's hungry, and I literally just don't even think to offer him something solid, aside from a bite or two of whatever I'm eating.

Zeben, 17 months old, helping himself to Luke and Jaz's snack on the table
since I probably hadn't fed him anything solid all day.

During the course of writing this blog post (which I've been working on for three days, here and there), I've been interrupted 5 times to make snacks for Luke and Jaz. I'm reminded often of my thoughts before getting pregnant the first time, when I tried to convince myself and Lena that the financial expense of having a baby really wouldn't amount to much for the first several years. Because I'd be breastfeeding--and that's free--and we wouldn't buy into the "need" for all of the baby gear, and when the kids did start eating solid food, they'd hardly eat anything at all. Because how much could someone who weighs less than 50 lbs. possibly eat? Right? Wrong. About 85% of the food I buy is strictly for the kids. Seriosuly. I don't know how we'll survive the teenage years. Yikes. At least, at that point, they'll be preparing their own food all by their own selves. Right? Right?