Comedy of Errors

Uh, it's only 10 a.m. and I should probably just start today over.  Here's a little back story... I'm off of work this week for Spring Break (one of the advantages of working at a University).  I decided to spend most of the week with Bink, instead of sending him to daycare, but to also spend a half-day or two child-free.

Yesterday I kept Bink with me so we could go to his 9 month check up.  Today was supposed to be at least partially baby-free so that I could accomplish a long list of important things.  Like blogging.  And uploading home videos to YouTube.  And buying new jeans (since my favorite pair lost a battle to a fish oil vitamin last week...they still smell like a wharf).  

Last night I realized there was some breast milk in the refrigerator.  My mommy brain thought, oh, better freeze that.  It won't keep until next week when Bink goes back to daycare.  Next week?  Hey there, Brain.  How about tomorrow?  Now, thawing out milk isn't a big deal, but once its been thawed it needs to be used within 24 hours.  I try no to thaw it out unless I know we'll use it.  That meant I'd need to pump in the morning.

This morning started off pretty smoothly.  Hubby took baby duty last night so I'd had a mostly full night of sleep.  Bink got back in bed with me around 6:30 a.m., nursed, snuggled, and watched the Today Show until he was ready for a little morning nap.

We got back up, got dressed, and went downstairs so I could start pumping.  At this point I have had no Diet Coke, no coffee, no breakfast, no nothing.  I brilliantly decide to let Bink play on the floor while I pump since he hates being couped up in his exersaucer now.  I rationalize this by thinking we have baby proofed pretty well and there is nothing out that he couldn't play with.

I sit down to pump, hook everything up, and then start a constant loop of "No, no, Bink" and "Bink, put that down, want this?"  The problem with pumping is that it takes a while for your milk to let down.  And once it does, you really shouldn't detach and stop to chase after 9 month old babies.  Any stopping in the process slows down the milk, thereby delaying my diet coke, coffee, breakfast, and getting Bink's butt to daycare so I can have 10 minutes of peace.

Bink headed straight for my basket of books and magazines, grabbing firmly onto a paperback that my Mom lent me.  In order to save the paperback's life, I leapt up (still attached to the pump) and snagged it from Bink.  I offered him my cell phone instead.  He happily went to chewing and slobbering on that for a few minutes.  That is until he found my new issue of Working Mother magazine.  I justified letting him rip a few pages out of it...until he started to eat the paper.  I pretty sure he actually swallowed a small bite or two before I got the subscription card out of his mouth.  

Noticing the tower fan across the room, he took off crawling for it and tried to pull himself up.  The fan wobbled back and forth precariously for a minute before he gave up.  In order to lure him back closer to me I offered him...my shoe.  Don't judge me.  I was out of toys, paper products, and expensive electronics to bribe him with.

Amazingly, Bink had no interest in my flip-flop and promptly took off for the side table.  He snagged a pile of important paperwork from the contractor who is going to fix the snow-pocolypse damage to the house.  Knowing I'd been beat, I unplugged the pump bag (though I was still attached to the pump parts) and ran across the room.  I balanced the pump parts on my boobs with one arm and scooped Bink up with the other.  

You can imagine how well that went.  While I did salvage the paperwork from Binky's grubby paws, that is about all I managed.  In the process of setting Bink back down, I dumped breast milk all over myself...the pump bag...and my only clean pair of jeans.

At that point, I gave up.  I put Bink in his high chair with some puffs.  I put the pump bag on the kitchen counter to deal with later.  I wipe myself off, made Bink's bottle with what milk was left, and fed him a bowl of cereal.  

I dropped Bink off at daycare and started off in search of breakfast and, more importantly, caffeine.  I called Hubby for his "package delivery confirmation" (we always call after dropping Bink at daycare) and started chatting away at him.  Instead of responding to my witty recounting of the milk debacle, he says "Honey?  Honey?  Are you there?  I can't hear you!"

I hang up and call him back.  I can hear him.  He can't hear me.  I repeat this process a few more times (I'm not easily deterred by failure) before giving up, slapping some mascara on in the Panera Bread parking lot, and going to get my breakfast.

Iced coffee and bagel with peanut butter in hand I hunker down in a comfy chair for some free wi-fi.  I google "LG Dare speaker problems" and try to figure out a solution.  The first option is to remove the battery and let it sit for a few minutes.  When I take the back of the phone off, the inside is COVERED with baby slobber.  No wonder the speaker won't work, I'm amazing the phone is still turning on!

I dried the area off with my sleeve (resourceful, aren't I?) and let the battery sit for a few minutes before trying to call Hubby a few more times.  Still no luck.  Now I'm still sitting in Panera an hour and half later texting all my pictures and video to my facebook page since I'm pretty sure the Verizon store is going to want to restore the factory defaults on my phone.  

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to have a relaxing day to myself.  Ah, the best laid plans...

Daydreams and Boobies

I mentioned before my promise to myself to breastfeed the Binker for a year.  ALL the baby books (you'll quickly notice my obsession with baby books, there are 487 of them on my nightstand) say to breastfeed for a year.  The baby will be healthier, he'll be smarter, he'll be more connected to his mama.

While these things may or may not be true, long before Bink was even a twinkle in his Daddy's eye, I knew I was going to breastfeed.  My mom had breastfed me and it was one of those strange parenting decisions that I made way before I really thought it through.  I would breastfeed.  That's just how it was going to be.

Now I've been breastfeeding for 259 days (not that I'm counting or anything).  It hasn't always been easy (which will someday be a post of its own), but now  I'm 106 days away from my goal.  I'm two-thirds of the way there!  And I'm just losing steam.

When I talked about my goal to breastfeed for a year pretty much everyone said "well, just do it until one of you doesn't want to anymore."  And I would smile at them and think to myself, sure, but we're going to do it for a year...and THEN if someone doesn't want to, we'll quit.  But, we're GOING to do it for a year. 

The problem is...*sigh* recently I've started fantasizing about the day I get my boobs back.

A day when they don't get pinched by tiny baby hands with saber sharp claws leaving purple polka dots all over my chest.  A day when when they don't get bitten, chewed on, or clamped in the death vice of baby gums pulling away from me.  A day when they shrink back to a normal, less hot-air balloon-like size and when they fit into normal bras instead of nursing bras.  

A day when I won't feel like a middle of the night all-you-can-drink milk buffet.  A day when I don't have to say "Now, Bink, not everyone wants to see Mommy's boobies" twelve times while I try to nurse him under a cover and simultaneously eat dinner in a restaurant booth*.

 Mommy said boobies, that means dinner is around here somewhere, right?

 
 Ah, one day...at least I can dream.

*If you think I'm kidding, you should see the list of crazy places this poor boy has eaten.

Why I'm Here

I went back to work in August when Emerson was 10 weeks old.  One of the hardest parts about this transition (besides, obviously, leaving him with someone else all day), was getting used to all the pumping.   

 THE HOURS AND HOURS OF PUMPING, OH MY GOD.

I promised myself before Emerson was born that I would try to breastfeed for a year.  It's been a long, bumpy road over the past eight months, but that's a discussion for another post.  The point is, if you are breastfeeding and working, you quickly realize how much time in your day goes into pumping (for me, it's at least an hour, sometimes an hour and a half).

The other maddeningly frustrating part of pumping that is that, at best, you have one hand free. Unless you have one of these amazing devices, but since I don't, I'm stuck balancing one side of the pumping stuff on my desk and the other in my hand.

 
Sometimes, if work is really busy, I use that one hand to clumsily type emails or do whatever work I can without full use of my hands.  It's annoying...and slow...and did I mention annoying?

Right around the time I went back to work, a friend turned me onto Google Reader.  I was skeptical, figuring that I didn't really read enough blogs to need something like this.  Let's face it, I only read Perez Hilton and a few random personal blogs written by my girlfriends.  Luckily, a few days later I got an email from The Bump with their Mommy Blog Awards.

I always love something new to read, so tried out EVERY SINGLE ONE that was nominated.  I read a post or two on every site and added the ones I liked to my new friend, Google Reader.  I figured I needed something to read while I pumped away at work every day.

Then, as someone mentioned a blog they loved, like The Pioneer Woman that everyone is so obsessed with (with good reason!), or someone linked to a blog post that looked interesting on Facebook (how I first came to love Smitten Kitchen), I added them too.  I kept perfecting my reading lists, testing out new blogs, keeping the ones that really spoke to me and unsubscribing from the rest (even Perez eventually got the boot).

Eventually, I started really looking forward to my Google Reader time.  It was like opening a little present in the morning and it made the pumping time a little less frustrating.  At least I was entertained while I was held captive at my desk feeling like an overloaded milk cow.

Quite the visual, huh?

There were a few sites that really captivated me.  I think some of it has to do with the fact that they are all moms, but more of it has to do with the fact that they seem like genuine, funny, beautiful, honest, inspiring people. The kind of women that I'd like to be friends with.  The kind of mommy friends that are hard to find in real life.

That's not to say that I don't have great mommy friends outside my computer, I do.  But being a few months apart in baby time means going through really different things.  It's nice to go through the same "stages" with people, knowing that others are dealing with the same baby gems like teething, colds, sitting up...it can do a lot for morale.

It's because of these women and their blogs that I started this little corner of the internet for myself.  I'm not the kind of person who chimes in often on blogs, usually I just read posts, smile to myself, maybe star something to enjoy again later, and move on with my day...and my hours and hours of pumping.  I don't often comment or take part in the "community" and I wanted to change that.

I wanted to say thank you to those people who brighten up my morning by sharing their lives, their marriages, their beautiful babies.  But also for sharing their mistakes, embarrassing stories, and rough patches.

I'd like to share with you my two very favorite blogs so that you can enjoy their blog-y goodness too.  And if either of them ever stumble onto this site, THANK YOU!

Confessions of a Young Married Couple
Katie's posts are always funny, honest, and poignant.  Plus her little Bean is adorable and her pictures are gorgeous!  I'm saving up to buy the camera she uses.  

The Glamorous Life of a Housewife
Whitney's site is great.  I love watching her little Weebie in all his stylish duds.  I wish I had her homemaking skills.

There are other great sites that I love.  If you need something new to read, check out the recommendations on my sidebar.  Or if you know of something great, leave it in the comments.

Also, in case you were wondering, these pictures have nothing to do with this post really.  I just happen to love these shots of my little Bink when he was only three weeks old.  The fact that he's eight months old, never sits still anymore, and just pulled up to standing while I was typing this has made me a little nostalgic.