An Honest Discussion on Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding, and Not Being a Jerk

Disclaimer: This is a long post. I wanted to talk about what happened when I had Baby J because I feel like it is very relevant. I hope you'll forgive me and read anyways...Thank you. :) 

To start...

Normally when I post I try not to make it too heavy, too serious, or too boring. I (try) to be amusing and honest. But I've been drafting this post in my brain for a long time and I think it needs writing.  And while I will admit that there is a fair amount of seriousness forthcoming...it is about boobs...so, how serious can it really be?

Forget Mr. Bean, Blackadder is Rowan Atkinson's masterwork

About me: I have two kids. One who is 6, one who is about 5 months old. Oh and me and pregnancy are really NOT friends. Not friends at all. Before I launch into my discussion, I am going to begin with what happened when I had Baby J a few months ago. I warned you...this is going to be a long post...please bear with me. You rock.

Part I: The Arrival of Baby J
 
My 2nd Pregnancy

It hadn't been an easy pregnancy. I got hyperemesis about 3 weeks pregnant which lasted in full force until about 6 1/2 months (actually when I had Baby J I was amazed at how not nauseous I was - I had been queasy the whole time). Hyperemesis is like morning sickness on steroids and crack blown up with a Giganto Ray. It is like 24/7 sea-sickness.

Then there was the preterm labor. We went into the hospital for 3 days at 24.5 weeks. And I got put on bedrest. We were back 2 nights again at 30 weeks. And then I was in the hospital for contractions about every other week (thankfully not overnight). At about 35 weeks I started itching. I was itching uncontrollably. The palms of my hands and soles of my feet itched horrifically. I had to use a hairbrush to scratch because I was leaving claw marks all over my body. I googled it thinking there was some remedy only to find out it was a hallmark symptom of  Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy aka ICP

That's right, my baby was going to be a juggalo...

I called the OB, they did a blood test, and sure enough - it was ICP. And if you don't (like me) know what that is - it's a very rare complication that affects your bile levels and undiagnosed can lead to still birth in the last weeks of pregnancy.  So we scheduled an induction date....

I wanted a natural home birth and I completely planned on breastfeeding exclusively the first year

When I got pregnant with Lulu (the 6 year old) I wanted a home birth. My ex-husband (her dad) nixed that idea from the get go. And eventually I realized it wasn't a good idea for me. I had hyperemesis and pre-term labor with her too. I was determined to have her naturally though.  However, when I went into labor I wasn't really prepared. I lasted 12 hours and when they told me she wasn't on her way I let them talk me into an epidural. It was awful. I felt like bugs crawled under my skin. I spiked a fever. I threw up. I wanted to peel my skin off. I wound up being in labor 30 hours and I asked them not to 're up' the meds and so I had some feeling back when I delivered her. I swore I would never do that again.

I think I needed to get it on a t-shirt...

When I was expecting Baby J I told my OB I planned a natural birth. She was a great OB in about every other way - but was never very supportive of this. She always acted like I would change my mind. In addition every time I was admitted to the hospital for pre-term labor I told them I wanted a natural birth - and they all looked at me like I was nuts. In fact, one of the nurses asked me what I was thinking and then I overheard her on the phone talking about me saying 'yeah, seriously, she thinks she doesn't want an epidural'. True story. 

That nurse was one of them...

The days leading up to Baby J's birth

So, basically I had been on bedrest, itching crazily, and now I was freaked out that we might somehow lose this baby which had been very difficult to get this close to term. Needless to say - I had not really been sleeping.

Friday: We get the ICP diagnosis. We go in for a stress test and baby isn't moving a lot with a low heart-rate. We are 36 weeks - induction scheduled for the following Thursday. 

Saturday: Stress out/ mild contractions all day. Huge storm. At 2 am I'd been having contractions for about 5 hours so we decided to go in. Everyone else was apparently in labor too. 

Sunday: 6 am they discuss admitting me. 8 am - we still haven't gone to sleep yet - they FINALLY admit me. They put in the IV, the bracelets, we call our family. They ask if I am ready to get an epidural - I tell them no - it says I'm doing this naturally thank you. The young Dr. on call comes in. Has found out Hubs is a lawyer. Tell us because I haven't changed enough and because of 'liability' they are going to send me home.... says "See, I was told it was serious, that they were about to give you an epidural"... and then we went home. 

I was FURIOUS. I just KNEW it was time to have him. We napped for about 2 hours. That night I didn't sleep. I was too pissed off and anxious. I told my husband my water would have to break for me to go back to the damned hospital.

Full of the angries! And hormones! And more angries!

Monday: 
5 pm...My water broke. Dead serious. I wasn't concerned. I said I was going to eat dinner and get a shower because I felt gross and I knew they wouldn't let me once I got there. Except my poor husband was freaking out so I threw on a baseball cap and let him take me to the hospital.

10 pm...They finally determine my water did indeed break (who knew it was that complicated??) and admitted me. For real this time. Believe me, I asked.

12 am...I was tired. SO tired. I hadn't slept the last 3 nights. The nurse bugged me for about the 80th time about getting an epidural. I felt like I couldn't argue anymore because labor was insane. My husband felt so powerless seeing me all laboring and stuff that he didn't know how to help. I finally caved and agreed....

1 am...They finish the epidural. 

1:30 am...I've gone from a 2 to a 10 in about 35 minutes. Now I've got to 'hold him in' till the Dr comes.

2:00 am...Baby J is born!!!

Born at nearly 37 weeks - the chunkster is 7 lbs, 5 oz. and 20.5 inches long.

 But the fun wasn't over yet...

When Baby J was born I felt AMAZING. Sure, I was filthy. Sure I had not slept in days. But the epidural didn't make my skin crawl. I suddenly wasn't nauseous at all. I wasn't itching. The delivery had been a breeze. I wanted to get up and run around...but you know, I couldn't because of the epidural.

I nursed him, then they took him out of the room (grrr) for his bath and check up. Daddy went with him. I was going to nap - but I was way too excited.  At around 5am Baby J was back and the nurse said to try to get up so I could shower etc. I guess I had just sort of been sitting there dozing and thinking about the baby because it wasn't until then that I noticed my entire left leg was dead. 

Like I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't move it at all. When I touched it - I couldn't feel it. The right leg was wobbly but it was there. I could move it. They shrugged it off, said it would come back. So I waited. And waited. 

At 7 am I could feel down to my knee so the nurse tried to get me to walk. The moment I tried to put my foot down (even being held) I lost balance, my mom yelled, my ankle had rolled. It is a miracle I didn't snap it. So back in bed. Doctors started coming in. They looked concerned.

3 pm - I still couldn't move my foot. 

7 pm. Same thing. I was FREAKING OUT.  

11 pm they sent me for an MRI... I don't know if you've ever had an MRI but they are terrifying. 

I have never had a panic attack in my life until that moment. I lost it. I couldn't cope with the claustrophobia. I pressed the button to be taken out within 2 minutes. I broke down sobbing and thank god for my amazing husband because he totally gave me the courage to handle it after the huge emotional rollercoaster I'd been on. He sat by my head when I finally got myself together enough to go do the MRI and talked to me the whole time about how we were going to do our yard...the man is amazing. I am lucky.

2 am...My foot was still immobile. I couldn't walk. I hadn't slept. I had been terrified of losing my baby and now I was terrified of being paralyzed for life. No one seemed to know why my foot wouldn't work. I knew that I needed sleep.

And we finally start to talk about breastfeeding

In spite of all this I'd been nursing and it was going great. And despite everyone else at the hospital badgering me about epidurals, the nursery nurse was a very crunchy super pro nursing kind of woman. But when I got back from the MRI I was tapped out. I told her I needed Baby J to sleep in the nursery and that I needed 7 hours to sleep...and that she could give him a bottle.  She looked like she was about to try to persuade me otherwise but then she looked at my haggard red blotchy face, the puffy eyes, the lank hair and maybe realized I wasn't going to function without sleep...

That's a fair comparison between what the lovely Princess Catherine looked like a day after giving birth...and how I looked :)

So Baby J had his first bottle at about a day old...and he lived

Part II: Breast Feeding and The Mommy Wars

The Internets

Like pretty much every other mom I read a bunch of crap on the internets about parenting and pregnancy. And when it comes to breastfeeding vs. bottlefeeding there is a ton of crap out there. And I do mean crap.

You have the militant mama's who say you're not a real woman if you don't breastfeed (read: a-holes). You have the women who are worried about ruining their breasts (read: super vain much?). And you have a lot of "what to say to breastfeeding haters" and "what to say to judgmental nursing moms"
(read: pretty useless stuff about as effective as telling the bully in fifth grade, "I'm rubber, you're glue.."). 

What complete self-absorbed money driven B.S.

So I just want to be honest. I may offend some people. So be it.

Breastfeeding may be natural...but it isn't easy

Especially if you are a first time mom. When I had Lulu I expected this synergistic organic thing to happen and she would just be a great nurser and it'd be beautiful. But I was not prepared for how difficult it is. You have babies who won't latch. You don't feel confident. You feel like it is easy for everyone else but not for you and so you're a failure. You feel like it should just happen.

And you worry. Worry they aren't eating enough. Worry if your milk quality is good enough. And you have to nurse often. And no one can help you. And you're tired. Sure breastfeeding is wonderful and it is awesome for you and your baby, but it is HARD. And if you are not prepared for that it is going to catch you off guard. 

It did for me.  I stopped exclusively nursing my daughter at about 6 weeks old because I felt like I was doing it wrong. She was fine. She is brilliant and I still nursed her for comfort until she was about a year old but I was so sad she went on formula so early. And I could have done it longer if I felt more confident. 

Rather than shaming  moms we should tell them, it's hard to nurse! But you can do it! We should tell them they aren't alone. That it does get easier. That they are still amazing if it isn't coming naturally. To stick with it. 

Breastfeeding has a lots of pros for moms...but also a lot of cons.

Leaving aside the quality of breastmilk vs. formula argument for the moment, let's focus on mom. Breastfeeding is the perfect example of the double edged sword. 

Part good, part crap. That sums it up.

1. Breast feeding helps you lose weight and shrink your uterus. Yes -it totally does. Most women will notice a lot of weight come off fairly quickly with nursing. It really does jump start the 'getting into those pre-baby jeans' program for you. 

but then

You plateau. Because you are producing milk for another person to live off of you can't get too skinny. You need fat stores to produce the milk. So even though you lost at that weight, those obnoxious few pounds are going to stick around.

2. Breast feeding is convenient - no mess, no prep. Correct. You don't have to pack bottles and formula and filtered water. You are the production plant itself.

but then

Try sleeping. Or eating dinner. No seriously - when you are nursing, most of the time (unless you've pumped) you have to be the one to tend to baby. It is HARD WORK. And, it is annoying. Sorry, but it is. When it's 3 am and you're on your 4th feeding and your husband is sleeping and you have to nurse a grumpy baby it is not magical or beautiful for you. You just want to f*ing sleep. You aren't a bad mom for feeling this way. 

I say it again - sleep people...it's for reals. You need it.

3. Breastfeeding helps ward of future pregnancy. Ok - it does. Kind of. It certainly reduces your fertility, it was one the means pre-birth control of spacing pregnancies. Your body knows it has a baby to take care of and shouldn't make another one...

but then

It is far from foolproof. Ask the thousands of mom who get pregnant again right away. Oh and it negatively affects your libido. Your body is telling you no baby...ergo wet blanket on the sex drive. 

Breast feeding...this picture...kind of the same effect

4. Speaking of hormones...  I think breastfeeding is supposed to keep you glowing or something (don't know about that) but I do know that while those hormones are kicking around if you (like me) got a little chloasma during pregnancy it isn't going to fade until you stop nursing.

I'm very thankful mine wasn't so dark as that.

So basically - trying to tell mom's that breastfeeding is full of happy wonderfulness only makes them feel alone and frustrated when it sucks. 

Chemically Speaking Breastmilk is Best

It is. It just is. You cannot argue with this. Formula is not as good. It just isn't. Your body produces milk specifically manufactured for a human baby. The colostrum your body produces the first couple days gives your baby antibodies and immunities you cannot get from formula. I don't really care if you nurse or use formula but be honest with yourself. Whether you pump or it is from the tap giving your baby breastmilk is awesome for them. I know someone who pumped and then bottle-fed rather than nursed - hey, whatever works. You are giving your child a chemically inferior product when you give them formula. You can get mad at that fact all you want but it doesn't change it. The truth blows a lot of the time but being upset about it won't alter it. Sorry folks.

But formula won't kill or otherwise destroy your baby

 Yep breastmilk is best and the complete array of benefits to baby are unknown. New research links it a decline in Alzheimer's. It is linked to higher IQs. HOWEVER - I primarily fed my Lulu formula and she is strong and brilliant and so are a lot of other kids who were fed formula. Gone are the days when Nestle peddled crap that produced sickly babies. Your baby isn't boned because you don't give him breastmilk.

And There are Times When Formula is Best

Sometimes it's not all about the chemistry. To use legalese for a moment, sometimes you have to look at the 'totality of the circumstances'. That night Baby J had his first bottle, formula was best.  As they tried to fix my foot so I could walk they had some different medications they wanted to try. Ultimately they didn't conflict with nursing, but if they had I would have taken them and not nursed. A mobile mom on the whole was more important than nursing.

Luckily throughout the roughly 9 weeks it took me to get mobile again I was able to nurse exclusively. Baby J gained weight and nursed like a champ. Then when he was about 3 1/2 months he'd start crying inconsolably after nursing. Eventually I took some formula and made a bottle. The boy downed 5 ounces after nursing each side for 15 minutes. I was floored. I soon realized I couldn't keep up with him. We are now almost exclusively using formula. I still nurse him a lot but he is always still hungry for a baba.

At 4 1/2 mos he is pushing 17 lbs. He is a bottomless pit. I fear for the teenage years.

So hooray to formula. We've seen the infant mortality rate drop over time and I do not doubt that the availability of formula when nursing mothers couldn't quite keep up hasn't saved a lot of babies. Hasn't made stronger babies. It certainly has it's place.

Pumping and Working

(I added this after getting some comments - I initially left it out b/c I didn't want the post to get too long but it is relevant)

Above I said that you have to look at the totality of the circumstances. And that is absolutely true. In the United States we have an abysmal maternal leave policy. New moms only get 6 weeks (unless your employer is nice) and then they are expected to pump at work if they want to keep their baby on breast milk. It would be super awesome if mom's could take all the time they wanted home with their kids and that all work places had designated areas for dignified pumping - but they don't.

With the economy being the way it is many moms who would like to stay home can't. And there are moms that would be horrible grumpy moms if they didn't get to get out of the house and work (there is nothing wrong with that by the way, I miss working myself.).  And frankly, nursing and pumping aren't always compatible with work. Babies who nurse wake up a lot in the night. And though I am at home right now, I have pumped, it is hard and I would hate to try to do that in a bathroom. I have many friends who are working and pumping and going crazy - and I don't blame them for switching to formula. And the ones that keep on pumping - you're a rock star because I'm not sure I could do it.

And that is another reason formula is wonderful. Because as great as breastmilk is, having a job that provides for your baby trumps.

The Awesome Duality of Boobs

Ok - one thing I have seen over and over again is trying to sort out boobs and sexuality. Some women feel like they can't nurse because they are used to seeing their boobs as sexual and that somehow nursing is dirty, sexual, wrong, or awkward. The hardcore nursers argue that boobs aren't sexual. They are for babies! Not men!! 

I'm going to blow your mind. They are both, friends. They are both.

To start - boobs aren't the only part of female anatomy doing double duty in the sex/baby department. Also - you don't get babies without sex (duh) and so boobs...a sign of fertility...is of course going to be attractive to men. Because on a VERY basic level we're wired to reproduce. 

And I think this is fantastic. I love to nurse. I love to wear dresses that make my cleavage look hot. I love both aspects. I embrace both aspects and so neither part weirds me out. 

Therefore: this...but also

This. Both, people. Both.

So what about nursing in public?

So boobs are for nursing. They are also sexual. What to do about flipping them out in public? Here's my take and it is very straightforward. I don't care if you pull out your boobs but you can't blame people for looking at you funny. I used a shawl and I feel like if that makes someone feel uncomfortable they can get over their damned selves.

You really should nurse as long as you can

I know this part is going to piss a lot of people off. But I'm going for it. If you can nurse, you should. For as long as you can/feel comfy with. Whether it is 3 days or a whole year. But you should. Because it is great for the baby. If you're worried about your boobs - well, gravity is going to destroy them anyway. May as well enjoy the lower incidence of breast cancer that comes with nursing.  I know that there are many reasons people can't - and a lot of them are valid. But I think you should try. Especially at first. You don't have to do it forever but a lot of being a parent is about sacrificing, and especially those first couple weeks (if you aren't having to work) you should really give it the old college try. Even though it is probably going to suck. But then again, it is not like poopy diapers and vomit are ever going to not suck.

You're going to get this surprise a lot.

Don't be that jerk off who judges - because you just don't know

When I took Baby J to his 2 day appointment I was in a wheelchair. I'd had a shower by then but I was still run ragged. I was also fighting off major depression from being terrified I'd never walk again (let me tell you signaling to your brain that you want your foot to move and having nothing happen gets your to your core). The nurses pitied me and kind of looked at me like I was a bad mom. They didn't want me to undress Baby J or help out. That made me feel worse.

Two weeks later I felt LOADS better. With a big brace I could move with a walker. I came in looking like a new person and the staff were legitimately shocked that I was the same mom. They had judged me and had NO IDEA what I had been through a couple weeks prior.

The same goes with formula feeding or breast feeding. I think it's pretty straightforward to say - hey, leave the mom who is nursing her baby at the table next to you alone. It isn't like she is changing its diaper at the table or allowing her toddler to steal a pancake off your plate (that happened to me once, before I had kids. The dad laughed it off. I have kids now, still totally unacceptable). Leave your bias at the door and stop being a goon.

To those mom's formula feeding... you don't know her story. You don't know her support network. You don't know how her job works and whether she was able to pump or not. You just don't know. And honestly...it isn't your business.

Often, this is sound advice anyway

The sum up: I think it is important to be honest about nursing and not judge ourselves too harshly when it isn't all roses. I think it is important to not be judgmental assholes. And I think that the benchmark of good parenting generally has to do with keeping your daughter off the stripper pole and your son from looking like Lil Wayne.

Avoid your kid being on this show and you're on the right track

7 Take Aways from No Take Out

For the month of July my husband and I decided that we would challenge ourselves to not eating out or getting take out for the entire month....oh and we were each going to go to the gym 10 times.

Let's start with the fail. The gym. We suck. We really really suck. Neither of us went even once. SIGH.

I wrote a whole post on this particular topic already but suffice to say I am really disappointed in myself because I need to just embrace the fact that it is going to blow, my face is going to turn red, I'll be embarrassed, and it will feel like I accomplished nothing. And more importantly, remind myself that it doesn't stay that way and I'll feel awesome later.

On to the not eating out. Without having to go back in time and read all my posts I'm going to sum up the situation before the 'July Challenge'.  Despite being a pretty good cook, the hubstar and I would eat out all the time. I'm talking 2 - 3 times a week. It was out of control. It cost a huge amount of money and it was terribly unhealthy.

I'm copying this from an earlier post because it kind of sums up the money issue...

Here's some horrible math I just did: this is London. A trip to London for a week would be about $5000. If the average meal out for 2 is $35 that trip is worth 143 meals out. So if you were eating out twice a week in 18 months you could have had an awesome trip. Now figure the math if you're eating out more than that. *shudder*

And while we failed on the workout portion, we pretty much rocked the no eating out. We each had one justifiable cheat (he had a work thing and my grandmother really wanted me to take her out to lunch at her favorite spot and I didn't have it in me to say no but I just got a soup and salad).  And then, a couple days ago, on the 30th we jumped the gun and grabbed pizza from our favorite spot...but we didn't eat out tonight so I'm going to count it as a win.

But here's the funny thing. When we did finally get that pizza we'd been looking forward to...it sort of wasn't worth it. The pizza was delicious but it wasn't insanely better than the stuff we'd made at home. And the $28.00 we spent felt kind of like a waste. It was kind of anti-climatic...
 

...maybe like a flavor orgy...I don't know...meh

 Anyhow, so like every lame grade school assignment ever - please allow me to discuss what I learned...

1. Eating out is every bit as expensive as I thought

Dude - I did the math. Holy crap - not eating out REALLY helped us. We really cut down on our food costs and I think it truly gave us an appreciate of just how much much money we were spending.

Or, you know, saving fat stacks bitches!

2. It's also very easy to blow a ton of money at the grocery store and some meals at home cost about as much as takeout.

On the flip side, the grocery bill was no where near as low as I thought it would be. I think I was so excited about the money we saved by not eating out that I wasn't as careful with my shopping. It really added up fast. I also decided to get creative a couple nights and by the time I bought new ingredients, spices, meats, etc the bill for one meal at home could be around $20. So, moving forward I definitely need to manage that better.

Not as much as you'd think :/

3. I'd rather spend the money on things other than food

When I looked at the pizza receipt I was bummed. For $28 I could have bought this cute owl lamp I saw at World Market last week. An owl lamp I could have loved and my husband could have tolerated.

Squee! It's uber cute!

And also this month I took the hubs I took my husband to get a couple's massage for the first time. I made a convert of him. We both agree that doing fun stuff like that trumps Chipotle because we're too lazy to cook.

Despite my complete lack of rhythm and inability to dance I feel like taking up Ballroom Dancing is a good move for us...

4. I didn't lose weight like I expected I would.

This part was a huge bummer. HUGE. In the beginning I figured that even without going to the gym I'd notice some substantial skinniness happening from the mere fact that I wouldn't be stuffing my face with greasy crap. This did not happen. In fact - to my shame - I gained about a pound.  And I know exactly what happened - I completely over compensated for not eating out. We made lots of delicious complicated meals at home and lots of treats too.

I made this Key Lime Pie and then pretty much ate the whole thing. I blame Hubstar for not sneaking more of it during his midnight refrigerator raids...

It was pretty much the Diet Coke Effect...

I essentially substituted Phad Thai with cheesy potatoes. Not good.

5.  There is more to eating out than just getting food

From pretty much as far back as my knowledge of history goes (circa Greece 500BCE ish...probably...I don't know...like some Sumerians and a small bit about cave men) people have gathered for feasts. Eating for humans is very social. We turned down a couple opportunities to go out to eat with friends and family and in the end both Hubs and I realized sometime you have to eat out. My Gram lives at a swanky (and I'm not kidding dude it is very nice) retirement community with it's own in-building restaurant but she can't drive, doesn't really cook, and misses eating out with my Granddad (who has since passed) so you know I'm not really going to say no when she wants to grab lunch.

This is one of the lounges at her place. Dude. If this is 'senior living' I'm so in.

6.  Eating out is a life saver when you've had the day from hell...or just made a batch of inedible crap...

I can't tell you how many times this month I was tempted to pick up food because I didn't get anything done that day, forgot key ingredients at the grocery store, and the children were just on fire with their neediness. But I got through it - sometimes with frozen food, sometimes with just throwing on my big girl pants, and I am proud of that. But nothing - nothing at all - was so tempting as when I completely screwed up dinner.

We'd had huge success with this homemade Lemon Chicken from an Asian cookbook we bought that I decided to make these spicy Thai meatballs with peanut sauce for dinner. I'd been jonesing for them for a solid week. I spent stupid cash buying the ingredients. And they were GOD AWFUL. I don't want to shunt responsibility but I really do think it was the recipe or my palate or whatever. They were so gross we just tossed them all out and I was left with no yummy dinner, out $20, a filthy kitchen, and a belly full of heartache. And in that moment I would have killed (ok, maybe paper-cutted) for take-out Chinese. Instead I ate cereal and yogurt. It sucked.

It was a super big sad.

7. Like pretty much everything else - it is all about balance

Last Friday the Hubs and I were downtown for a work event and after we popped in to one of our favorite and ridiculously pricey places to eat (the kind of place you go to propose or something) for drinks and a stupid expensive appetizer.  But it was worth it. It was amazing being out, just the two of us, somewhere we loved to go. It was worth it because eating out was special again - because it wasn't just out of laziness or boredom or because I forgot to buy chicken again...it was because we just wanted to enjoy some great atmosphere and time together.

These are their candied jalapenos. Screw ambrosia..these are the real deal.

And when we do go out from now on, I hope we remember that. And I also realized that eating in isn't a license to go buy everything at the store or eat cheese covered cheese potatoes all the time.

Cheese covered cheese potatoes as originally found when I was in Stuttgart.

All in all this was a great thing to do. I really gave us some great perspective on our habits - good and bad. I'll be honest I don't think I never want to eat out again or anything crazy like that, but I have found a huge love for eating in.  I think the convenience, accessibility, and relatively low price (so it would seem) of eating out or picking up food makes it very easy to succumb to it but I think that most people could stand to really take a break from it and see how much of a habit it becomes.

Finally.......wheeeeeee!!!!! Friday Night Thai is back baby!!!!!!!