Relax, just do it.

Guess what?!?  We just got another formspring question!  Gotta say...I love it when our readers give us questions.  Not only does it make finding a topic to write about easier, it makes me feel like we really are just all sittin' around gabbing with big steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of us, like proper girlfriends should.  Anyway...enough with my Girls Night Out mini-fantasy, onto the question!

How do you handle nursing in front of your other children, are you secretive about it or relaxed?

As Frankie said on his way to Hollywood, "Relax, just do it." (Ok, so I know that's not the real lyric, but that's the version I've been singing in my head ever since I got this question), so, the short answer would be:

Oh so very, very, very relaxed.

Now here's the long answer:

If any of y'all have spent any number of minutes in my home, I'm sure you've witnessed the never-ending modesty battle as I insist that my hooligans "get some friggin' clothes on!"  It's become sort of a family...and neighborhood...and ward joke that the Lifferth chilluns just don't like clothing much.  The less, the better in their books.  Where, I've been asked time and again, do they get it from?  Well...let's just say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  No, I don't spend my days lounging about in the buff, but I've never been one to stress if my kids happen to catch a glimpse either.

So, I'm not much different when it comes to nursing.  I don't mind nursing in public as long as I can successfully hide the actual faucet.  Hence, I most certainly don't hesitate to nurse anytime, anywhere in my home.  I've always felt that nursing is a healthy, normal part of life and it can only help a kid to be exposed to it in day-to-day workings of the family.  It's my hope that if I act like nursing is nothing to be ashamed of then it won't weird-out my sons when their wives start spouting liquid nutrients and my daughters won't hesitate to give it a try as well.

Not to mention, who has time to go into a secluded alcove to nurse anyway when they have 3 other small children under-foot?  If I did that every time the baby was hungry I'd reemerge to find my house absolutely torn apart or...errr...more torn apart then it is already, anyway.

So, when you find yourself as a new mom of more-then-one, I encourage you to give open nursing a try.  You'll find out soon enough that your little one will treat it as what it really is...no big deal.

The Jelly Belly

Hip Hip Horray for another formspring question!  Here goes nothing...

I've got belly jelly (4 BIG babies worth of it) how on earth do I climb in bed and feel good rockin' my belly jelly, and not just be acutely aware of it's jiggle the whole time?!?

Well...isn't that the question of the day?

When Aubrey and I received this inquiry, I quickly called dibs on the chance to answer since I feel this falls into my particular specialty...let's just say I have the jiggliest, wrinkliest jelly belly this side of the Mississippi.  It really, truly is ugh-worthy, I promise.  No matter what I do, I just can't seem to shake the jello (pun intended ;).  After 4 babies, each one stretching things out a bit more, I've finally come to accept the fact that the wrinkly skin and loose muscle just isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

So...what's a girl to do now?  I've learned to tolerate my ever-present tummy-folds but toleration doesn't exactly foster sexual prowess and confidence au naturel.  Of course, there's all the usual answers:

• lingerie to cover up provocatively

• role-playing to help a girl pretend to still be a toned young thing

• denial in an attempt to ignore (la la la what jelly belly? la la la)

• and, of course, plain ol' fashioned leaving the lights off

While all valid answers, they're really just a band-aid, aren't they?  They cover things up, not help them heal.  Well, just like with an owie that's being covered a bit too often and a bit too tightly, sometimes it's just better to rip the band-aid off in one quick painful pull.  Which means...[cue scary music]

• leave the lingerie for the real special occasions (although, honestly, there's many a husband that will claim anytime he gets the rare summin' summin' post-baby is a special occasion)

• enjoy being you, the mother of your beautiful children and your husband's wife, rather then imagining you're someone and somewhere else

• not to mention, leave those darn lights on

In short...really, truly accept your body for what it is.  Heaven knows, I'm not claiming I've got this down, I can't even help cringing when I accidentally catch a glimpse of my one month postpartum belly in the mirror. I am, however, trying.  I'm attempting to believe my husband when he insists I'm gorgeous and oh-so-sexy.  I'm trying to view my stretch marks and wrinkles as battle scars in the war mommyhood wages on my body. And, five and a half years and four kids after I officially became a mom, I'm trying to love, not just tolerate or even accept, but love my body for the amazing things it's done and does everyday.  While it's still a bit of a struggle every time I climb into bed, I finally feel like I'm getting there.  I don't know if I can honestly claim I'm "rockin' my belly jelly" but I like to think one day maybe I will.