Tuesday, February 27, 2007

You want what?

Dlee, as Grog says. Why didn't anyone warn me working requires communicating in complete sentences?

I made it to noon yesterday before my breasts threatened to explode. And although I'd taken the breast pump along, there is nowhere to actually perform the task - pumping in a cubicle is ... well, something you'd probably see in "the Office" show but i'm just not up for the challenge. And the ladies bathroom has thoughfully placed two armchairs in the hallway area but there is no plug for the pump. Luckily I'm only 10 minutes from home so I toodled off to see my Beloved Offspring (B.O.) and offer him my mammalian bounty.

Mind you, I've been trying to wean Samuel from daytime nursing for the past week. I was holding out for longer and longer before feedings and felt quite triumphant until Sunday night (yes, the night before I my First Day at Work) when I got several impacted milk ducts. My right breast turned into a painfully throbbing globule of hard lumpies that refused to be pumped or manually expressed. A phone call to the nurse elicited a sympathetic but entirely unhelpful recommendation to continue massaging, warming, nursing and pumping and they "should clear up in a couple of days" DAYS?!!! I was suppsed to go to work in less than 10 hours!!! I poured hot water into a tupperware and submerged my right breast (and part of my housecoat) into it, which involved hovering awkwardly over the dining table with a hand towel poised to tenderly pat my steaming, but still lumpy, breast when the water cooled off. Then it was off to the arm chair to pump for a few minutes, all the while gingerly massaging. Change water, and repeat. I was exhasted by midnight, having stayed up past my bedtime for three hours already, and convinced Samuel to try nursing one more time before I fell asleep with the heating pad packed around my lumpy girl.

Miraculously, Samuel nursed twice more over night and she had rallied by the morning. I staggered around getting ready for work and luckily managed to arrive at the new project site without being too much of a hazard to other drivers.

So anyway, I went home at lunch, not wanting to repeat the Clogged Milk Duct Adventure, with rosy pictures of my Beloved Offspring nuzzling at my breasts. It was Not to Be. He barely turned around when I came in the door.

"oh there you are, mummy. Look at what I'm doing! I can wiggle my bum and wave my arms while standing! ... What? milk? nah, I just had some cheerios a while ago. "

I pumped. And went back to work. Sigh. the first Letting Go has already begun and I'm still on Attaching and snuggling and cuddling.

Anyway, work was okay. I seem to be perpetually bored. Maybe it's time for a new job.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007


I forgot to mention: the customs guy asked me where the father's permission slip was for Samuel. And the idiocy (mine, not his) began.

z: oh, he doesn't need one. He's a donor baby.
CG: sez you. Do you have a long form birth certificate?
z: No, I didn't bring it. I had to hand all that stuff in to get the passport, I assumed they'd make a note on it.
CG: well, they didn't.
z: actually, yes they did - see? it says "signature not required"
CG (shows me my passport and the baby's open at the same page, says slowly and clearly): ummm. Ma'am, that's for the baby. The BABY's signature is not required. See yours has your signature. He doesn't write yet. Maybe next time bring the long form birth certificate?
z (sheepish): oh, yes, okay.

I skulked away trying not to look too idiotic. But at least I got in. Whew.


Samuel is currently crying his guts out in his crib. He got used to falling asleep in my arms while we were in Hawaii recently on vacation where we were cribless. Which by the way was a fabulous time. We went with another SMC mom (Single Mother by Choice) and her 2.5 year old boy, and shared a condo on Hawaii. It was hot, it was sunny and it was warm water. What more can I say? Samuel loved it and began to turn a very decent shade of brown even slathered with sunscreen. What do the Aussies say - slop slap and slip? (sunscreen, hat and tshirt I think). That boy has good genetics for tanning. grin.

Anyway, he is not happy sleeping in his crib anymore. And he has a cold which makes him cranky and sad. So I try to get him asleep in his crib and then take him into bed with me when I'm ready to go. So far, he's not too keen on the idea. Ah. I think he's off. That was only one re-settling and two crying sessions today - about 1/2 hour. a couple of nights ago it was three and three followed by me going to bed at 9:30 with him because I was exhausted!

As for why he can't sleep in my bed without me, he's too mobile now. He's crawling like a little monkey and launches himself blithely off any surface, assuming I'll catch him or it won't hurt or just not getting the interaction of gravity, hard surfaces and his noggin.

He walked when we got home on Jan 30 - one day before 10 months old. He isn't too excited about walking without help though - he hesitates and then goes down on all fours. With a little coaxing he will let go for a few steps but that's it. Oh well, it's all down hill from here. One day they're crawling and the next they want to borrow the car.