a walking, weeping cliche

I went back to work for a little bit today. It was pretty sad. On a drive last night, I passed a church billboard that read, “Time lost is gone forever.” And then a mama polar bear on television killed her cubs by leaving the den in search for food. But whatever. I think we’ll be all right.

working moms carry a lot of guilt

Plus, I’m super-pumped about our company’s private Lactation Lounge. I have a key for the room, but it is in desperate need of a secret nickname. Someone left special herbal tea and some breast pads in there with a scribbled note to “help yourself.”

That pretty much made my day.

Way to go, “Supportive Breastfeeding Employer of the Year 2004,” Columbus Monthly Magazine!!

Grandma J watched Molly for the duration. Tomorrow is MM’s first day with Manny Padula, Inc.!

She and I do okay apart from one another. My boobs, on the other hand, have some serious adjusting to do.

I know that’s probably gross to (repeatedly!) mention, but I challenge you to suddenly find yourself responsible for 8-12 square meals per day for ANOTHER PERSON WHO IS EATING FROM YOUR BODY and then try not to talk about it.

We topped the day off with a two-month check-up at the pediatrician and Molly’s first round of shots.

Scratch No. 346 off the list of Motherhood Cliches: I totally freaked out when they stabbed her. In my defense, she started it. She morphed her happy giggle-face into a look of confused torture-betrayal, turned purple and screamed like we were sawing her limbs off.


I always said I wouldn’t freak out about baby shots because they are not a big deal, and I always looked down on mothers who made a big deal about it.

But she was looking me right in the eye! NOT FAIR!

My new favorite feeling comes shortly after doing something I used to judge other parents for, by the way. It’s very freeing.

Next time they stab her, I’m not going to look.

In other news, Molly gained a million pounds this month and weighs in at a hefty 8 pounds and 11 ounces.

The doctor was so pleased with her growth chart that he walked it over to show me the series of rising dots.

She still toes the line between the 10th and 25th percentile for height, weight and head circumference.

A consistent runt!

Meanwhile, the B-Cups continue to be distraught and confused by this partial work day. I pumped a record-breaking 10 ounces the morning I was away from her. I think that is pretty hilarious.

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  • Angie

    I, for one, don’t blame you for being stressed out. That would be hard.

    This country needs more supportive services for mothers and families.