I'm drying up

Such a funny thing how you have a kid and your modesty goes away. I now feel completely confortable talking about my cervix, my boobs, poop...almost anything, and have no regard for how this might make the person I am chatting with totally uncomfortable...espcially if they are a man, or have never had kids. I now see why people just breastfeed wherever they are when their kid gets hungry, as your boobs become like bottles in your mind, not a private part of your body. Case in point, here I am chatting on my blog about my boobs. They are drying up. I am not totally sure why this is happening...my son eats often, I religiously pump at work, I eat my oatmeal every day like a good girl and drink LOTS of water. Why is this happening? After my terrible breastfeeding experience with my first child, I was hoping that when I decide to quit breastfeeding this time it would be totally and completely my decision. Humph. Also stressful is the fact that my son won't take a bottle from me anyway. Weird the things I worry about these days. Gone are girls nights and vacation plans, now it's my milkless boobs and constipated children. And I love it. That's the even weirder part.

Happy Friday to anyone out there! Just so happy to be finishing up another exhausting week of working mamahood. Monday I had to take Dominic to the podiatrist, which was quite the adventure, let me tell you. To being, the winter is proving to be a difficult time to venture out alone with both babes. I am never quite sure how to actually transport them from car to destination. Maisy isn't ready to just walk and hold my hand through the snow, as she can't walk that well in boots yet, so I have to put her in some stroller. The big Graco travel stroller goes well through the snow, but does not fit well most other places...like in tiny podiatrist offices. And Dominic hates the car seat, so I can't just carry him in that, so I try to shove him in the sling, over my winter coat, in his winter coat, and like, cover that all in a blanket. And then push the stroller through the snow. So...once we finally got through several series of glass doors with no one to help me open them, Dominic and Maisy were crying and making a scene. We made it to the lobby and of course I had to fill out all this paperwork...with no hands, because I had to take D all the way OUT of the sling and I had no where to set him. Finally one of the receptionists came around and held him while I gave his life story to save his poor ingrown toenails. A bowl of Goldfish and a lot of lap bouncing later...we finally see the doctor. He is crazy, and one would have to be to look at feet all day, and continues to call himself "grandpa" in the third person. As you would want to do, Maisy starts crying again. Now remember...I think we are just here to have a consultation to decide on next steps. But no...the doc says "yep, they are ingrown, let's cut them out." What, right now, right here, with all my kids in the room!? Indeed, so he puts me back on the chair, has me lay D down on my lap, and gets out this PLIERS and starts cutting away. Not they say he cried because he didn't like being held down, which I believe was 90% of it, but seriously, it was like bloody murder. And of course then Maisy had to compete in the loudest cry contest. Thank God it only took about 3 minutes to do both toes. We go back on the 29th to see if they are fixed, please pray for us!

Can't believe I'm bloggin

So I am new to this blogging thing, just starting to read a few parenting and mama blogs that crack me up. I also like how you can keep people updated on your life, people that you don't often connect with...as in EVERYONE! Since becoming a mother of two, rather quickly I might add, I am still struggling to find the balance between family-work-church-self-friends. There just isn't time! If only my friends could pay me to talk to them...I could quit working and have a social life again. Can we find a way to make that work?

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving to anyone who happens to read this on accident. Instead of the usual Thanksgiving Eve barhopping, I will spend tonight giving baths, eating taco salad, and hopefully, if everyone goes to sleep as they should, enjoying an episode of The Office and maybe even indulging in a Miller 64...a little beer in the breastmilk is good for the baby! And I won't miss the hangover tomorrow. Or the morning sickness, which was the case two years ago. The two conditions feel oddly similar. What a bummer.