You just need to burp

I have a really short memory as a mother, apparently.  My second-youngest daughter is 2.5, and she nursed until she was 21 months old, which was this year.  Still, before Fiala was born, I envisioned nursing my baby with ease while reading school stuff to my children… like we’d just be all cozy on the couch and it’d all go so smoothly.

Um, no.  It hasn’t quite worked out that way, probably mostly due to the fact that I can not do two things at once.  Anything.  I can’t even talk on the phone and load the dishwasher at the same time, which, in some countries, is a required skill before the marriage license is issued.

Still, I try.

In one of my (probably ill-fated) attempts this past week, I was reading (sort of) to my two middle boys as I nursed Fiala.  About halfway through, as I had her up on my shoulder, patting her back, my 9yo, Grant, asked, “Is she done?”  “No,” I replied, “She just needs to burp, then she’ll want more.”  Sure enough, a baby-sized belch was issued, and she started rooting on my neck, looking for milk.  “Wow,” Grant marvelled, “How did you know??”

It’s one of those Mother Superpowers.

That interaction reminded me of a dinnertime story…  Robin, do forgive if I get some details wrong; it was a long time ago.

Anyways, for some reason, my sister was eating dinner with our family.  Ethan was young, maybe three or four (he’s now 11).  Robin has no children (except a non-custodial stepdaughter, who is only 13 years younger than Robin), and is alternately horrified and impressed by my mothering skills.

Mid-dinner, Ethan started moaning about how his tummy hurt.  I was unmoved, insisting that he eat his dinner.  (For years, Ethan would come up with some malady — EVERY SINGLE MEALTIME — about how/why he couldn’t eat.  He’s past that, thank God, though he is still an abominably slow eater, and a borderline hypochondriac.)  This went on for a while.  Finally, I looked at him and said, “You just need to burp.  Burp, and you’ll feel better, then you’ll be able to finish.”

This was one of the times my sister was horrified.  I don’t remember if she started advocating for Ethan right there, or if she just told me later that she was thunderstruck:  My lack of sympathy for my son’s health was beyond cold, and how could I possibly know he needed to b–


“Wow!  I feel so much better!  You were right, Mom!”  And he finished his dinner with no further complaint.


Moms really do know everything.

About burps, anyways.


About Karen Joy

I'm a partially-homeschooling mother of six -- 3 boys ages 19, 17 and 15 years old, and three girls: 11, 8, and 3. I like birding, reading, writing, organic gardening, singing, playing guitar, hiking, the outdoors, and books. I very casually lead a very large group of homeschooling families in the Phoenix area. I have a dear hubby who designs homes for a local home builder and who is the worship pastor of our church. I live in the desert, which I used to hate, but now appreciate.

Posted on November 14, 2008, in Babies, Family, Funny Stuff, Homeschooling, Motherhood, The Kids. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Haha! That’s great! 🙂 I love the shirt too!

  2. I think my SIL feels like that about me. That is too funny!

    BTW I need that shirt. It would go with my husband’s that says his super power is making beautiful babies.

  3. Mama’s do have amazing super knowledge. My kids always ask me if they will know this or that when they grow up. Like Santa’s email address (cuz that’s how this Mommy communicates with the big guy!).

    I love that T-Shirt! I used to have one that read “got breastmilk?”. Heh.


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