There's no use crying, blah blah blah.
I suppose I should be grateful that the girl is failing to meet her performance goals in the daytime eating department. After all, this failure means that the 2.5oz of milk that just went the way of the dodo due to acute seal failure won't mean I can't meet tomorrow's demand. Go team tarnished silver lining.I checked the seals before I left work. I was worried--as I have been since the first time I f'ed up the seal on a container and lost a full 4oz--that things hadn't closed quite right. They all looked peachy.
When I got home, one of the bags had managed to spill its precious f-ing contents all over my carrying bag, the boy's bag, and probably the car. Which will no doubt have the lingering odor of soured milk on hot days, just to mock me. It'll add just the right touch to the occasional doggie smell left there from the previous owners' pets.
Murph, buddy, your law can bite me.
As can the notion that hydration would help.
I hydrated all day yesterday and today, thank you kindly, and my reward was more trips to the bathroom, not more milk.
I'm trying to decide if I'll look back at this and laugh, or look back at this and seek therapy.
posted by mohmlet @ 6:38 PM
1 Comments:
I pumped for Henry for four and a half months (he was in the NICU and never learned to latch on) and it was hellish and stressful and . . . are there some other words that I'm missing?
And all these years later, I laugh about it most of the time, and talk to my therapist about it other times. That's all.
(And you know where to find me, if you just want to chat . . . )
Post a Comment
<< Home