Black Sheep Mom

Sometimes, that’s how I feel. I stick out like a sore thumb among all the other moms. How is it that I am one of them? I’m too… clueless, disorganized, awkward, gruff, gloomy, serious, wishy washy… fill in the blank.

More on the breastfeeding business: I stumbled onto this the other day. It’s a bit defensive seeming, but perhaps justifiably so. I’ve never experienced it, but apparently many other mothers have felt pressure to give up nursing early, or not even try. Seattle is a pretty open-minded place when it comes to parenting, I suppose; maybe here, people feel pressure to breastfeed. (I hope so!) A fellow Seattle-based weblogger writes about her breastfeeding experiences.

Anyway, breastfeeding blah blah blah, right? You come here to read about Henry, not all this other stuff. Henry, Brad, and I went to the locks today. We’ve been before but this time, Henry was quite taken with them. We saw several boats going through in both directions and we got to see a number of salmon making their way up the fish ladder there. A new story has been added to Henry’s book of tales: “We Went to the Locks, Saw the Gates Open, Lights Flash, and Water and Boats Lower Down.” A couple on a big sailboat going through the locks waved at Henry (how could they help themselves, right?), and he waved back with a big grin.