A Simple Reminder About Parent Guilt

All parents experience parent guilt or mom guilt at some point. This simple reminder is for you.

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I think every parent encounters feelings of guilt at some point. We all ask ourselves questions like:

Am I doing enough for my child?

Am I failing my child?

Am I giving all of my children equal amounts of attention?

This list goes on.

Sometimes we know we need help, but sometimes we feel guilty asking for said help. This is something that I really struggle with.

So instead ask yourself this question: are my kids happy right now in this moment?

If yes, then you are doing enough. And no, you are not failing your children.

As hard as parenting can be, you've got this! You just need to reframe the questions and your expectations first.

**This post was originally shared on my Instagram account on March 15, 2019.** 
Click here to see the original post.

Other Resources You'll Love

Autism Resources for Parents

10 Things to Remember When Advocating

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Autism Meltdowns Are Rarely Ever About the Little Things (Like Cheerios)

A personal reflection on a child's autism meltdown. 

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Autism meltdowns are commonplace in our house. If you are a parent of an autistic child like myself, then you have likely been through your fair share of meltdowns with your child as well.

For some reason, I felt compelled to write about a certain meltdown that occurred recently. I took to Instagram to share the story, but quickly hit the word limit. I didn't even know Instagram had a word limit. Now I do know. 

Anyway, I stripped the story down until the basic gist of the story still remained intact. You can see the original short form on Instagram here. Below you will find the original full version that I had hoped to share.

Autism Meltdowns: Why It's Never Just About The Cheerios

It is never just about the cheerios.

See, yesterday started off like any other Sunday morning. The kids sort of slept in. You know, until like 7 or 7:30, I am not really sure. As usual, they helped themselves to some cereal and, with bowls in their hands, slipped into J's room to play. I could hear their giggles from across the hall while I laid in bed, catching up on my blog emails and notifications.

Just a regular lazy Sunday morning.

Fast forward about 40 minutes, where the four of us piled into the car, the kids still in their pajamas, so we could go do a Pokemon Go raid. Because that is what we do. We game together every single day and explore new areas of the city together, in search of those digital pocket monsters. We have a lot of fun playing Pokemon Go together, even when it is freezing cold out, like it has been here in Saskatchewan.

The kids each had a bag filled with sliced apples. And another bag filled with cheerios.

Not just any cheerios.

Apple cinnamon cheerios.

But then I had to stop for a red light halfway to our destination, perhaps hitting the brakes a touch harder than usual.

That is when one certain bag of cheerios, slightly open, slid off the back seat and onto the floor of our car.

Little tiny Os now littered the floor.

Apple cinnamon cheerios were everywhere.

Then, as if a light switch was suddenly turned on, screams from the back seat.

Tears.

Yelling.

An autism meltdown.

At that particular moment, the world around J was simply too much.

And the only solution he could muster up was to turn around, head back home, and refill that bag with the exact same number of cheerios.

We reassured him that there were still plenty of cheerios in the bag.

Nope. He was not happy with that.

He needed to have the bag refilled to the exact same number of cheerios until the moment they spilled upon the floor.

There was only one possible way to fix this problem, according to him, and he would most definitely not budge. Typical for him during meltdowns.

And we were not going to turn back around just to refill the bag of cheerios, even if that seemed like the easiest way out.

Instead, my husband and I guided him through the meltdown as best as we could, letting the meltdown run its course.

This meltdown was hard. Not for me, goodness no. But for him. It is always hard for him. He was helpless and distraught at this particular moment. He was angry and frustrated. Visibly upset.

He was simply overwhelmed.

And he exploded.

Just like the bag of cheerios.

But it was never about those damn cheerios in the first place.

It never is.

His meltdowns are always a build up of something else.

What was it in this case? That, I have no idea.

When we got home some 20 or so minutes later, he still went on, in between yelling and crying and hitting, about the apple cinnamon cheerios and how he needed more in that bag.

Of course, we had no more. The last of the Os from the box were emptied earlier into that bag and then subsequently, on the floor of our car. That is how things work...of course...

But as with all meltdowns, they eventually subside. And as always, I am there for J during and after those meltdowns.

Because I am his safe place.

After the meltdown, it was like the cheerios never even existed. They were no longer important to him.

Because meltdowns are rarely ever actually about the little things like cheerios.

They are always the expression of something else, something bigger.

Yesterday, cheerios were the breaking point for him. Today it could be something entirely different.

But all that matters is that he knows I will be there to help him pick up the cheerios.

Other Autism Parenting Resources You'll Love

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What I Want My Autistic Son to Know

What I Want my Autistic Child to Know

A personal reflection on the things I want my son to know about being autistic.

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I recently had an interesting conversation with a mother whose son was recently diagnosed with autism. In particular, we were discussing how the word autism seems to be such a scary term for so many people. They see autism as a negative. Something to be afraid of or sad about.

But here's the thing, autism is not a label to be feared or sorry for.

It really isn't.

Yet, people apologize when they learn my son is autistic, like it's a burden somehow to be raising him. And that's just a ridiculous notion to me.

Unfortunately, as he grows older, he's going to be facing these negative associations his entire life. So it's important to me now to help him be confident about who is he. So when - not if - he encounters these negative discussions about being autistic in the future, he will be adequately prepared to handle them. At least that is my goal.

So how am I preparing him? What am I doing today that teaches my son that being autistic is perfectly fine?

While there are probably a billion things I want my kids to know, one of the most important things, to me, is to make sure my kids understand and celebrate the qualities that make them, as well as others, unique. 

The personal reflection below captures my thoughts on this topic, as well as some of my thoughts on others' reactions to learning my son is autistic.

The following was originally published on the CBC Parents website.

What I Want My Autistic Child to Know

For some reason when people mention that they have an autistic child, the responses often include comments like "I'm sorry."

That's not okay.

In fact, it angers me when people say things like this, especially if those kinds of comments are said in front of my son. Perhaps they just don't know what to say and it's the first thing that comes to mind. Or maybe they just aren't educated enough about what autism actually is. That still doesn't make "I'm sorry" an okay response though.

Autism seems like a scary word to so many people, but there is nothing to be sorry for when it comes to autism.

And there's especially nothing to be sorry for when it comes to my son being himself.

Yes, he is autistic and has some struggles with transitions and self-regulation, but he is also bright. And hilarious and silly. He also has this incredible ability to spot and highlight the smallest details in the world around him, details that most would miss. Details that I know I would miss.

It's a beautiful thing really, that ability to stop and enjoy what he finds fascinating.

It's just one of his many positive traits that I like to remind him of and thank him for.

He is a wonderful person just the way he is and I always want him to know that.

For instance, my autistic son was recently telling me some homemade jokes. In between his laughs, he casually asked, "Don't you think I'm weird?"

I stopped and got to my knees. With a smile on my face, I simply turned to him and responded with, "You should be. You are my child after all and I'm weird too."

After all, being different is good. I want him to know that.

I remind him of that often because I certainly hope that my son picks up on the fact that he should never ever be ashamed of being different or good at math or insanely talented at beating Geometry Dash levels on the first try.

I want him to know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being autistic.

Most importantly, I want him to know that there is nothing wrong with embracing his interests and passions, even if they seem unusual to others.

10 Things to Remember When Advocating for Your Special Needs Child

Wondering how to be the best advocate for a special needs child? Well, then you'll want to keep these 10 things in mind when advocating for your child with special needs.

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If you know me in real life and happened to ask me one simple question at all last year, I would have responded in one of two ways: tears or a lengthy rant. It really depended on the day.

See, things did not go well for my son J at school last year. 

Not one bit.

It was not only a difficult year for him, but for me as well. I'm still recovering from hours of lost sleep and stress, still scrambling to find myself again.

"How is school going for your kids?" 

That was my trigger.

Seemingly innocent question, right?

Well, now that things have settled, I have more clarity on the entire situation. 

I have had plenty of time to reflect on last year and I am trying my best to focus on the positive. And I think the most positive thing I learned from last year is that now I truly know how to best advocate for J and his needs at school.

So whether you are struggling with your own school advocacy fight or with some other stupid system, I want you to keep some things in mind. Even in the thick of it all, it's important to keep these 10 things in mind when advocating for your child with special needs.

Things to Consider When Advocating for Your Child with Special Needs

Advocating for your special needs child is not easy, especially when you are stressed out and so is your child.

It is also exhausting.

But it is so important that you advocate hard to make sure your child's needs are met because if you won't, who will? Besides, you want to model advocacy skills to your child so that one day, they'll be able to advocate for themselves with confidence.

{Click here to read the list of 10 things to remember when advocating.}

How to Encourage Kids to Hold Your Hand

Wandering, bolting, and running away are all commonplace for kids with autism. And it's scary, especially in busy places like parking lots or airports. For most kids, taking their hand is enough to keep them close to you, but it's not always that easy with a child with autism.

My son rarely likes to hold hands when in busy places. However, there are instances where it is absolutely necessary for him to hold my hand in order to keep him safe. He doesn't wander like he used to, thank goodness, but it is easy enough for him to slip into his own little world and tune out his surroundings. And if he does that, he has zero concept of danger.

One day, it dawned on me why he might be pulling his hand away or letting go.

I wondered if he was truly aware that he and I were even holding hands. I didn't believe he was, so I decided to try something random to draw his attention to our hands.

It was that day that I discovered the one trick to get kids to keep holding your hand while walking. This trick should work with all kids, not just those with autism.

How to Encourage Kids to Hold Your Hand While Walking

The trick is to turn it into a game that encourages them to focus on their hands. 

First, I squeezed his hand tight, applying some deep pressure to his hand. While I did that, I said, "Squeeze." Then I loosened my grip and repeated. I then asked him to copy my pattern. So he went, "Squeeze, squeeze" while squeezing my hand as tight as he could.

Next, I introduced a forwards and backwards motion to the game. I would move our hands out and say, "Tick" and then move our hands back and say, "Tock," just like a clock. He copied the pattern back.

As we walk, I alternate between squeezes, ticks, and tocks and he copies the pattern back. Sometimes we speed up the patterns and sometimes we slow them down.

But, more importantly, his hand remains in mine as we cross busy parking lots or walk through crowded places. And he stays safe.

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Why I Use Math to Connect with My Son

"What's 39/100 + 61/100 equal?" I ask six year old J.

In a matter of seconds, a grin stretches from ear to ear as he bounces up and down, his arms wiggling like he's doing some herky-jerky version of the chicken dance, before gleefully answering with, "100/100 or 1 whole!"

He's back, I think to myself.

Thank you for coming back to me.

This post contains affiliate links.

To the bystanders in public who see me asking my son these types of math questions I must appear insane, which I likely am, so don't rule that out. But, while they may be temporarily dazzled by my son's brilliance, it is quickly replaced by judgment, assuming I must spend hours upon hours drilling my son with math flashcards. But that's simply not the case.

See, my son has hypernumeracy, which is a fancy term for saying he's ridiculously good with numbers.

While most two year olds are starting to assert their independence in everyday tasks, J, instead, was teaching himself how to tell time and skip count by obscure numbers. Somewhere between ages three and five he mastered multiplication, adding and subtracting fractions, percents, and a whole bunch of other math concepts. This past summer, for instance, at age five, he taught himself (and me!) Roman numerals. It was never my idea to help him learn what three million in Roman numerals is, but he learned it. And he drew them. And he lived and breathed them. Every loose part, toy, or crayon suddenly turned into Roman numerals.

Now that he is six, I'm not sure what kind of math he will be learning next, but it excites me. Not sure when I will be dusting off the good old calculus textbook, but I'm hoping it won't be for a few more years. Hopefully.

So yes, it appears like I am asking my son inappropriate math questions for his age, when his typical peers have just mastered things like counting to 100 or place value. He's just well beyond that and has been for years.

But there's another reason why you will find me asking him these kinds of math questions.

He has autism.

As a result, he withdraws into his autism bubble frequently, where he quietly scribbles endless sequences of letters and numbers onto his Magna-Doodle, while simultaneously chewing on the string that attaches the pen to the Magna-Doodle. Or he escapes with chalk. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with letting him seek the comfort of his own little world as I think we all benefit from seeking solace in our own ways, but there are times when I need him to be alert and focused on his surroundings.

In order to pull him out of his autism bubble, I need to connect with him through his love language of sorts. That love language being the concreteness of letters and numbers. He just thinks in numbers. They give J comfort because they never change.

Letters, symbols and signs are my closest allies because they never change. They just stay as they are, fixed in my memory. And whenever we're lonely or happy, in the same way that you might half hum a song to yourself, we summon up our letters. When I'm writing them out, I can forget everything else. I'm not alone when I'm with letters. Letters and symbols are much easier for us to grasp than spoken words, and we can be with them whenever we want. - Naokie Higashida, The Reason I Jump, p. 49

So when you see me asking what appears to be inappropriate math questions for his age to my six year old, you are actually seeing me, a tired mom, trying desperately to connect and engage her son with the world around him. You see a loving mom embracing her son's love of numbers and math. You see a mom who deeply cares about her son and embraces his quirks.  You see a mom speaking her son's love language.

But most importantly, I hope that you see that gleeful little boy who is accepted for who he is, autism quirks and all.

How to Get Fidgety Kids to Sit Still at Mealtimes

Meal times in our house have been a struggle for a long time.

During a typical meal time, whether it is breakfast or lunch or supper, I will have repeated myself to the point of exhaustion:

Sit on your bum.

Sit on your chair while you eat.

Come back to the table to eat.

Where are you going? It's suppertime.

My tone gradually becoming more terse with each plea. More frank. More frustrated. Whiny, even.

But perhaps the most frustrating part of all was dealing with the acrobatic feats that occurred on my children's chairs. I was tired of eating with upside down children and holding conversations with their flailing limbs. The constant grazing, walking to and from the table to take a nibble of this and then a nibble of that, was driving me crazy.

Was five minutes of non-squirmy children sitting on their bums to eat the dinner I so graciously cooked really too much to ask?

Apparently so.

But I am not one to be easily defeated.

This post contains affiliate links.

Why Sitting at Mealtime is Important to Us

Just to be clear, encouraging my children to sit during mealtimes isn't about obedience. 

It's about finding time each day to connect and bond. It is about fostering healthy relationships with the people we love.

See, I grew up in a small town, living just a few blocks from school. So I was able to go home for lunch everyday and have supper everyday with my entire family. Those mealtimes were a way for us to connect and enjoy each other's company. I have always wanted that for my family as well, especially in this digital age where we get sucked into our electronic devices and maintain a ridiculous busy lifestyle. So yes, sitting together as a family at mealtimes is important to me. It's an important way for us to slow down and connect every single day.

Furthermore, sitting at mealtimes is important from a safety perspective. My children were literally hanging upside down while chewing their food. I may as well hand them some uncut grapes while they jump on the trampoline. I need them to sit on their bums, at least while they eat, so that they will be safe.

Things That Didn't Work

My oldest son has autism and sensory issues, so he rarely sits still to begin with, but there had to be something that would encourage him to sit at the dinner table.

We tried visual cues like a timer. He likes numbers so in theory, it should have worked. Instead, it stressed him out and then he started playing with timer until it broke. Fail #1.

So we tried a social story. Social stories always seem to work for him, but it didn't this time. Fail #2.

We have tried verbal prompts over and over. Of course, understanding verbal demands are challenging for him due to his hyperlexia. Fail #3.

We have even tried a little game, which worked wonders for a different mealtime issue, but did little to help him sit and eat his supper for any period of time. Fail #4.


Rethinking Our Mealtime Struggles

I know my son needs to wiggle and move, so I knew that that was going to be the key to successfully ending our mealtime woes. I needed to tap into his wiggly nature and find a solution that would allow him to squirm, but keep him seated long enough to eat his meal without me losing my voice to my constant pleas.

We tried out our stretchy resistance bands on his chair with minimal success. It really only worked for the first day, but failed to provide him the sensory input that he required on subsequent tries.

Then one day when I was picking him up from school, I spotted him sitting on the Hokki wobble stool that he has in his classroom. But what I really saw was a child, sitting on his bum intensely focused on his work. He looked calm. He looked still. He looked almost peaceful. I was overcome with pride that my son was able to control his body in such a peaceful manner and it was definitely a light bulb moment for me.

I knew that I needed to provide that exact same sensory input at home.

But those stools are $120+ to buy.

There had to be a more affordable option that would work for this scenario. Then I recalled my days of working as a nanny for a boy who had sensory processing disorder. He had a bright blue slanted wedge cushion to sit on at school and at home. Why hadn't I thought of that before?

But again, those wedge cushions aren't cheap either.

So I started exploring other options that were similar in design, but perhaps weren't marked as an occupational therapy tool or sensory tool, until I found the perfect compromise.

And I did.

But more importantly, it has revolutionized our mealtimes. He sits for long periods of time and eats his supper. I no longer have to eat alongside those acrobatic gymnasts who loop their legs around the table's wooden frame or who dangle their bodies sideways and upside down on their chair. I no longer have to see patterned socks fluttering back and forth in the air. Instead, I see my children's beautiful faces, smeared with sweet and sour sauce or a pink-hued smoothie mustache. I get to actually hold conversations with them while they eat and my husband and I finally get to relax, even just for a few minutes, without having to remind the children to sit on their bums.


How We Got Our Kids to Stay Seated at Mealtimes

Now this idea itself isn't revolutionary by any means, but it has made a huge difference in our daily life. And I know others may be in the same situation as us, especially if you have fidgety, sensory seeking kids like my son. So you may be searching for a quick, practical solution to your mealtime woes and this tip may be just what you need.

The answer: a balance cushion.

This balance cushion provides the exact sensory input he needs, letting him wiggle and squirm all he wants, while staying seated in his chair and eating his meals. It worked from day one and has continued to work since then.

Not only did we end our mealtime battles, but we did it without spending a lot of money. The balance cushion cost us less than $20 CAD versus the $35-45+ we would have spent on a sensory cushion (likely more like $50+ here in Canada because there are so few places to actually buy these kinds of sensory tools from) or the $120+ on a wobble stool.

Now to tackle the next mealtime hurdle: encouraging the kids to try new foods.

Hahaha...good luck, right?

Dear Hyperlexia

Dear Hyperlexia,

We've been friends for five years now, but only knowingly close friends for about 6 months because up until then, I did not know that you even existed. So I think it's time I tell you a few things.

First, I wish you were better understood. I wish there was more awareness so that parents like myself wouldn't have to fumble for years, trying to figure out what is going on with their child. And where are the resources for parents? I honestly feel like I was pushed out of the door with a message of "good luck and see you in a few years" after my son's diagnosis. It left me even more confused. I guess I was eagerly awaiting some random pamphlet like "so your child has hyperlexia...now what?" I even pictured myself being handed one of those ridiculous pamphlets like you see in the TV show Glee. I think any basic pamphlet would have been better than simply seeing your name written on a single piece of paper and then kicked out of the room.

I also wish you were a stand alone diagnosis. I do believe you could be one. Dyslexia is the opposite end and it is its own diagnosis, so why can't you be? After spending the past few months immersed in reading everything I can about you, which I must admit, isn't much to begin with, I feel like you deserve to be free from other diagnoses. Besides, I have even seen the autistic like symptoms in my son "disappear," so does the autism diagnosis really fit him? I feel like it was slapped on him simply because he fit the description of hyperlexia to a T (pun intended) and because hyperlexia often diagnosed alongside autism.

I find you isolating, hyperlexia. I really do. There seems to be no local community for me to join. No hyperlexia support, except for a few small online groups. I feel like I have to advocate ten million times more for you than I do for autism, simply because the educators and support people I do encounter have never even heard of you!

But you know what, hyperlexia? I am completely fascinated by you.

The gifts that you have given my son (and that I see glimmers of in my younger son) are really astonishing. To see a small child decode written words like he does, makes me pause and wonder. It makes me realize how special he really is. You alone make me realize how different he sees the world than I do and I think that's really awesome. I appreciate his literal view of the world. I appreciate his honesty. His rawness.

I love how things like math and spelling just come so naturally to him because of you. Sure I have to teach him other things like social skills and how to talk in first person, but he will never struggle with math, spelling, or learning to read like most kids his age will. And that is fascinating.

You may frustrate me many times per day, like when my son is rattling math question after math question and I am tired of answering them, but you also make me appreciate letters as an art form. Swirly fonts, chunky fonts, bubble letters, and more. He writes in them all. He mimics the fonts he encounters in the books that he reads. Clearly, he sees each and every single letter as a mini work of art because of you. Before you came along, I just thought all letters and words were merely just a means of communicating. But you have shown me that there is beauty in appreciating little things like fonts.

You have also taught me to slow down, observe, and appreciate.

And most importantly, you have taught me how to best connect with my son and I am forever grateful for that.

Sincerely,

Bubble D, swirly Y, bold A, and chunky font N

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Twas the Night Before Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  So I'd like to show you why, even though I am a mom blogger and "one of those Pinterest moms," I am still, first and foremost, a regular mom who does regular mom things.  And if that wasn't enough, I was in the mood for some rhyming...  

Twas the Night Before Mother's Day

by Dyan Robson

Twas the night before Mother's Day and I would like to show you
That there are some things that I certainly don't do.

The paintbrushes are air drying by the sink with great care,
In hopes that I'll put them away, leaving the counters all bare.

My boys are asleep in their very own beds,
While I zip through the shower, finally able to hear thoughts in my head.

And daddy is on the couch, and I on the floor,
He watches basketball, while I edit photos and more.

When out of my phone, there arose some vibrations,
Oh goody!  Another handful of notifications!

"Now Pinterest!  Now email!  Now, G+ and Facebook!
On twitter I'm not!  On Facebook again!  On writing my ebook!

To the dashboard of Blogger!  To write my new post!
Now dash away!  Dash away!  Here's what you miss out on most."

See, my kids think I am supermom and that is okay,
But I certainly don't want you, my readers, to view me that way.

Wait you think my house is actually that clean?
That's because I kick stuff into a corner when setting the scene.

And the stains on my carpet I make disappear
By using Picmonkey clone tool to keep it all clear.

Then there's the plants in my house that look just plain sad,
Hopefully my friend Lisha, who gave me the plant, won't be too mad!

While me and the kids spend the day together in play,
The laundry waits to be folded some other day.

Wait are those ski pants and a winter hat too?
And I even spot some books, a Christmas one or two.

And yes, I realize that it is now May,
So perhaps I should put those winter things away?

I also suck at dusting, take a look at the piano.
The grubby hand prints are a nice added touch, no?

And on a random Tuesday, I may play hide and seek poop with my boys,
Because really, in the eyes of a child, poop is better than toys.

On this particular day, during a midday toilet tryst,
I found a diaper in a drawer.  In the garbage was poop as big as my fist!

Did I mention that this happened a few minutes before my piano student was due?
Good thing grandma and grandpa were here to help too.

Then there's the photo they took when said child unlocked the door,
Where toilet paper clenched between cheeks hung down to the floor.

I love blogging, but it takes a lot of work and time,
So hopefully you'll have noticed, through my awesomeness of rhyme,

That I am just a regular mom doing regular mom things,
Who just happens to blog about crafts and even DIY swings.

But on this special day, you'll hear me exclaim, before I put my laptop away,
"Happy Mother's Day to all and to all a good day!"



Be sure to read the other "Behind the Blog: Mother's Day Edition" posts from these great kid bloggers:

And Next Comes L | 3 Dinosaurs | Hands On: As we Grow | Kids Play Space | Life Over C's | Makeovers & Motherhood | Not Just Cute | One Time Through | Play Dr Mom | Southern Girl Ramblings | Still Playing School | Teaching Mama | The Chaos and The Clutter | The Craft Train | The Educators' Spin On It | The Measured Mom | The Mommy Talks | Third Stop on the Right | This Reading Mama

One Breast, Two Breast, Left Breast, Right Breast {A Parody for Breastfeeding Mothers Inspired by Dr. Seuss}

We love Dr. Seuss books in our house and we have been reading them almost daily since J was a tiny baby.  One book that we love in particular is "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish."  It's so random and so fun.  When I was reading it most recently, I thought of a Dr. Seuss breastfeeding parody that I had read awhile ago.  I have also come across some other Dr. Seuss breastfeeding parodies since then. Anyway, I thought that this book would work well for a breastfeeding parody as well.

Breastfeeding Parody Inspired by Dr. Seuss

The book is quite long, so I only did the first part of the book (with a snippet from the last page), but here is what I came up with.  Enjoy!

**PLEASE NOTE: You must obtain written permission from me in order to repost this poem on your blog and/or social media. Failure to do so will result in a DMCA Takedown for copyright violations. Direct links (without sharing the entirety of the poem) are welcome and appreciated and do not require permission. You can contact me here.**

One Breast, Two Breast, Left Breast, Right Breast:

A Parody for Breastfeeding Mothers Inspired by Dr. Seuss

by Dyan Robson

One breast

Two breast

Left breast

Right breast.

Which one did

I nurse with last?

Which one will

have a letdown fast?

This one feels uncomfortable.

This one feels more pliable.

Say! both my breasts are capable.

Yes. Some are big.  And some are small.

Some nurse freely.  And some under a shawl.

Some get sore. 

And some make more.

And some have even nursed before.

Why are they

sore, make more, and nursed before?

I do not know.

Go ask a lactation educator.

Some nurse one babe.

And some nurse more.

Tandem nursing sometimes

feels like quite a chore.

From there to here,

From here to there,

I will nurse

my baby everywhere.

Here are nursing pads

to absorb leaking milk.

They absorb leaking milk,

both hind and foremilk.

Oh me!  Oh my!

Oh me! Oh my!

I leaked and now

my shirt's no longer dry.

Some nurse for days

and some for weeks.

Some nurse for months

and some for longer streaks.

When do you know when you should stop?  I can't say.

But a minimum of two years is what

the WHO recommends today.

We see them engorge.
We see them grow.
Some letdown fast.
And some letdown slow.
Some get plugged ducts.
And some do not know
The pain of mastitis when you feed 'er.
Don't ask us why.
Go ask your La Leche League Leader.

Say!
Look at the feedings!
One, two, three...
How many feedings
will I see?

One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven,
eight, nine, ten.
I've nursed eleven!

Eleven!
This is nothing new.
I feed when baby
gives the cue!

Pump!
Pump!
Pump!
Did you ever try to pump?
We have a pump
and it's a manual pump.
But
we know a woman
called Ms. Exclusively-Pump.
Ms. Exclusively-Pump has a double electric pump.
So...
if you like to go Pump!  Pump!
just jump on the pump of Ms. Exclusively-Pump.

Who am I?
My name's cradle hold.
Baby lays across your lap,
or so I have been told.

This is not good.
This is not right.
I am not getting
much sleep at night.

And when I am too tired,
Oh, dear!
Side-lying position works best,
I cheer!

Every day,
From morn to night,
I nurse my babe 'cause it feels right.

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This parody was inspired by these other Dr. Seuss breastfeeding parodies: Would You Could You Breastfeed in Public, Green Eggs & Ham for Nursing Moms, and How the Grinch Stole Breastfeeding Parody.