every two weeks

ATTN MEN: DO NOT READ. NIPPLES AHEAD! AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!

I couldn’t decide between invoking Michael Moore before talking about boobs, or calling this post, “Self Expressions.”

Did I make the right choice?

First of all, yes. We like it like that.

My pump and I have always gotten along swimmingly, and I have enjoyed our increased time together since going back to work.

When Molly was all, “I refuse to eat anywhere near that golf-ball-sized benign tumor under your nipple,” my pump embraced it without protest.

My pump has been there for me at all hours. In the car. During dinner. And now, at work. It does not painfully tease the breast by getting milk to come in and then refusing to eat. It does not randomly barf up ounces of breast milk mid-session. It does not get the hiccups, and it will never get teeth. PLUS it has the courtesy to eat from two boobs at the same time. Efficiency!

If my pump had big, blue eyes, or if it could flash a huge, drunk grin at the end of the meal, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it exclusively.

But alas. It does make for a lot of dishes.

I had roughly 20 ounces of milk leftover from my first week of The Dairy System. Molly has never been able to keep up with the pump, but at this rate, I’ll be able to bottle-feed her from my frozen back-up supply until she is 6 years old. This is a huge relief because I was worried to death that I would have enough. Here’s to hoping it lasts!

I am (still) totally in love with the Lactation Lounge. It still doesn’t have a proper nickname.

There is only one hitch: I can’t help but feel judged by the press workers in the warehouse who see me sneak up and back into my little room by myself three times a shift. They all look suspicious, and they should, because the room is sort of a big, locked closet within another big, locked closet.

WHAT IS THAT GIRL DOING IN THERE?!

Every time I have a particularly good session, I resist the urge to open the door, run out to the top of the stairs and hold the bottle of breastmilk for all to admire.

“Behold! Nine ounces of human breastmilk!”

and they will all stop the printing presses and look up to admire my mammaric miracle.

That’s how I imagine it, anyway.

Eric said if I was particularly impressed with myself, I could just take my milk back into the TOP offices and show the staff.

I should mention that he has a lot of daughters.

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.

Disturbing!

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.

Re-plumbing the entire house pretty much mutes the Dead Man Walking sensation that sweeps over me when I think about returning to work on Monday.

For those who have followed our saga, you might have a vague notion that getting fresh water into our house, consumed and out to the septic tank has been a real roller coaster ride.

Now that we’ve redone all the drain work in the house and things are moving oh-so-smoothly into the (clean!) septic tank, we turn our attention to the water supply portion of The Show. As per the “there, I fixed it,” attitude of our previous owner, the house is pumbed piece-meal style with copper, pvc and even some leftover lead pipes from the ancient days. Nothing is in its right place. Everything leaks or has been routed around some imaginary object for no apparent reason. It’s a mess.

And anyone who has experienced the joy of opening up one of our faucets, or jumped into an iron-filled Teter Homestead Scary Shower knows that our water quality is … sub-par. Like, record-breaking bad. And it’s probably already destroyed all our brand new appliances.

But in honor of Molly Mae Teter, some professionals are installing a Cadillac of water softeners on Monday. No longer will her cute baby clothes be stained with rust. No longer will we have to hold our noses when we wash her bottles in the gross, sulfury s(t)ink water. No longer will we have to buy Columbus municipal tap water from gallon jugs at Kroger to cook our humble meals.

Soft, iron-free water? Here we come. I think there might even be some sort of reverse osmosis mixed in there. Very classy.

This will be me on Monday. Notice my radiant hair and skin ... presumably from using 2/3 less soap than all yall.

You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Even more than STAIRS!

But in preparation for this magnanimous occasion, all hell broke loose. Seth and I were down in the basement pricking around when hubba hubby noticed a dangling wire and decided to test it for hotness by putting it up against a copper pipe.

Never do this.

I cannot emphasize this enough.

The heart-wrenching snap of the circuit breaker was followed by the low hiss of water escaping. One of the supply lines had ruptured (I blame the same mosquito that shot me!) and was spraying mist all over the basement, so we decided to go ahead and rip out all the shoddy work and put it back in ourselves. Proper-like.

Today.

I mean, why not, right?

We’ve only got two sinks, a toilet, a shower and a washer & dryer to supply. Hook-up will be a cinch.

Right now, while Seth makes trip No. 2 to Lowe’s, I am prioritizing which of these amenities I would prefer to have working tonight.

I said we should finish the shower because I can pee and do the dishes in there. It’s a 3-for-1 special.

Which one would you pick?

In other utility news …

For years I have protested certain utility companies that require a one- or two-year contract. Notorious offenders are cell phone providers and anyone who has ever asked you to “bundle.”

Who do they think they are? No other services require such rigid commitments. Most sellers earn monthly business by offering the best product at the most affordable rate. Cell phone company assholes have the audacity to prevent you from seeking out competition, charging you hundreds of dollars to break up with them if you find a better deal. This is anti-capitalist to me.

Eff that.

That is why I am pleased to announce that I just purchased a StraightTalk TracPhone from Wal-Mart. I recommend you do the same.

For $30 per month, I will have 1,000 minutes, 1,000 text or picture messages and 30 mb of websurfing at my disposal. Did I mention that the plan costs $30 per month? My old Sprint plan was more than twice that for half the minutes and no web service.

AND! AND! There is no contract. I can enroll, unroll and re-enroll at will. If we can’t afford a phone one month, there is no penalty for leaving. I can pick up where I left off the next month. AND I can take my old number with me, AND the phones run on Verizon towers.

Verizon towers are very reliable.

What’s the catch? The catch is that I have to buy their $70 phone, and I can’t have an iPhone or an iBlackberry or whatever the kids are playing with these days. The phones offered by StraightTalk TracPhone are nice enough to me. But I probably have low standards.

Did I mention that there is no contract and that the plans are $30 per month?

Unlimited text, minutes and web are $45 per month. I can upgrade or downgrade between these two plans at any point.

I am in love with my StraightTalk TracPhone and I encourage everyone to vote against Verizon and Sprint and their web of deceit by purchasing a StraightTalk TracPhone.

StraightTalk TracPhone.

unplug.

for the past 2 weeks, we have been trimming things up to make room for Molly’s Day Mom in the budget, and Lord help me, i am about to make the call to unplug from satellite television.

unlike a cable relationship, this is a more permanent, heartbreaking occurence. they have to come over and dig the DISH out of your frozen yard. there’s really no going back.

seth and i (read: Seth) have wanted to do this for a while now, but suddenly we (read: I) have the courage to cut the cord. we can access all the shows we watch online for free, of course, but there are several things i am worried about.

no more DVR.

no more brainless background noise.

no more commercials.

can i still watch Teen Mom?

and what are my husband and i going to do at dinner now? talk with one another? huddle around the laptop and spill wine all over the couch?

these are the sacrifices we make for our children.

molly also thinks this is BS

i am totally freaking out about going back to the News. from the moment i took the wee one out of her car seat, i’ve had this feeling of dread that time will slip by faster than i prefer. my fears are realized. two weeks from yesterday i will be at work. AT WORK!  

the desperation has me weird. i am reluctant to leave the couch, for fear of speeding up time. i keep doing the math over and over again on little scraps of paper and i try to convince myself that we’ll be fine with one income. and we would be, assuming our cars never required repair, or the plumbing never broke and we never so much as took a whiff near a can of paint toward remodeling this house.  

turns out we lived like RICH KINGS when we both were pulling in an income. we could tighten our belts, but i make just enough to miss it. not enough to thrive, but just enough to notice if it left. cursed gold-plated handcuffs of journalism!  

also, i’m afraid. i’m afraid i’ve been out of the news too long, that my brain has turned to mush and that i won’t care to restore it. physically, i’m worried that my milk supply won’t be able to keep up with Molly and that i’ll miss her and miss her first ____. (laugh, roll, sit-up, crawl, walk, etc. etc. etc.)  

it’s silly, really. i know that. these are fears all working mamas have, i’m sure. but if i pin them to the Internet bulletin board they seem to have less power over me.  

but i shouldn’t have to work outside the home! cursed industrial revolution! cursed women’s rights movement!  

the problem is — now, what i’m about to say sounds crazy — the problem is that taking care of a newborn is easy and fun. now, don’t tell Seth i said this because i play martyr as soon as he walks through the door. and there are times when i cry and say, “i can’t do this anymore,” of course, but relatively, when i take a step back and consider everything as a whole, this is a pretty easy and largely rewarding gig.  

that statement should be qualified with the fact that i never really fully embraced the stay-at-home mom duties. meaning that i mostly let the house go to shit, and lots of our meals are cooked by other people. i only used my crockpot twice. if i was doing this forever, i’d have to work more and cuddle less. at least eventually.  but  i’m still in the honeymoon phase and it is all that i know.  

plus, this is the best and longest break from work i’ve ever had, especially when compared to other things i’ve burned PTO for: moving, drywalling, miscarriages, funerals.  

but i imagine i could go to the beach and it wouldn’t be as enjoyable as lazing around mostly topless all day, covered in spit-up, napping between feedings, skipping make-up, snacking relentlessly and playing “can you imitate mommy’s face” for hours at a time. not to mention the bad TV!  

drooooooooooooool.  

i basically get to cuddle my baby all day without a care in the world.  

i realize this time is precious. perhaps i realize it a bit too much. i know that next time we do this, i’ll have a toddler in tow and that it won’t be nearly as peaceful. 

alas, nothing gold can stay.  

her smile got all tonguey

we’ll be all right. but it’s really going to suck for a minute. not because it’s bad. but because this time has been so good.

Molly! You got Jewish!

… It looks like Maybel also got Jewish in this particular instance.

but i think it’s very cute.

no need for second takes.

I have been subjected to a LOT more daytime television than normal. I leave it on for the Kardashians and for the background noise, so occasionally I will endure a shampoo commercial or two. I am worried that women are being told their shampoo can do things to their hair that are impossible.

Here are some things that shampoo can not possible do to your hair:

1.) energize it

2.) inspire

3.) exhilarate

4.) rejuvenate

5.) invigorate

6.) elate

7.) console

8.) embolden

9.) restore

10.) fortify

Mostly, your shampoo can just WASH your hair. It can also CLEANSE it. When it comes to shampoo, these are pretty much the only verbs that are possible.