My Frien-emy, The Pump

As a breast feeding mother, let's talk about pumping.  It's pretty much the worst.  Ok, so it's not the worst thing, but it ranks right up there with going to the gynecologist or locking the bathroom door to escape.  I don't have to do these things but they make having kids a whole lot easier.  And with regard to pumping, by a lot easier, I mean a little.  Not only do I need to nurse every 2 hours around the clock, but now I need to strategically schedule a pumping session.  Do I pump right after a feeding, leaving me with enough to fill a thimble until I can actually accumulate an entire bottle's worth 2 weeks later?  Finally, I can leave for exactly 1 hour and 59 minutes!  Or do I squeeze it in somewhere before a feeding, risking the wrath of my thirsty 4 month old after she realizes her favorite all night diner just ran out of the early bird special.

Or how about when your 5 year old turns to you during breakfast and says, "Hey mom, this strawberry looks like your boob.  See, it has a nipple!" And proceeds to move it back and forth making the "eh-eh, eh-eh" pump sound.  At least at 5 years old he's comfortable with seeing breasts in their natural state and using the proper vernacular.

Not to mention the moment when you think you've turned the pump dial in the off direction but really cranked it up to MAX suction power.  Yeah, insert eyes popping out of your head emoji here.  That's sleep deprivation at it's finest right there.  Never the less, pumping is important.  I mean, how else am I going to let another person experience the joy of feeding my baby and not feel like a constant milk machine?  Oh wait, right, then there was that time I caught a glimpse of myself pumping in the mirror...Just call me Bessie.

Krista