a morning in almost one sentence

in ten minutes late, thinking its no big deal because i've been working my butt off this week and the project's DONE but then my buddy says hey M the nasty boss has been looking for you and there he is, he's found all sorts of mistakes in the project and gone to other people and made them do MY work and now they are looking at me with those i'm-pissed-but-let's-just-get-this-done faces and i'm wondering what are these mistakes? are they big? are they glaring? how did i miss them? Why is the nasty boss such a little bitch? (though that's a constant thought these days, the other constant thought is- that i worked hard, but I didn't give him my over-the-top because i don't like him and GUILT.) Catalouging in my brain for everything i possibly did or did not do wrong and then i look down and I'm leaking. And now I'm in my office trying to pump and despite the boobs' rock-hardness it is slow going. so i'm trying to relax. can't you tell?

routine love

back to the routine- up at 6, go to work/daycare, the boy munching on me at 12 in my darkened, mini-fluorescence-lit office. not too great for me- i mean, it's monday and yesterday at this time i was sitting on the beach looking at the atlantic with the sun and the wind and that sky (mmm- it was nice), but for the boy, this rocks. he is so much happier and more settled than he was over the weekend. i'm not quite sure what to do with that. i think the good mom answer is probably stop travelling, but after not doing much while i was pregnant i just want to GO on these beautiful weekends. but apparently it's not about just me anymore. huh.
guess i better find some routine love of my own...

"they keep pulling me back in!"

My old law school drama has reared its head. Glad I can spend time rehashing my own very own Melrose Place.

the best laid plans

i was running late today- the boy was up a lot last night and i couldn't seem to get out of bed on time (despite having gone to bed at 9:50- am i exciting or what?). so i decided i would nurse B. in my office instead of the nursery so i could start working on time. an excellent plan, up until the poop explosion. it was everywhere- my shirt, my pants, his leg, my desk. And no wipes, just paper towels. I snuck him down the back stairs, paper towels between him and me, hoping I would not encounter anyone who would want to play with or coo over my poop-encrusted child. Am I slick or what? Good think I am wearing a striped shirt- yup, that's a poop stain.
B. is making a lot more noise, really interacting the last few days. It's really cool. However, I am strangely a little freaked out by this positive development. I think my absentminded approach to parenthood may not continue to cut it. He's going to need actual stimulation, not just mom feeding or bouncing him while thinking of strange D.C. Circuit precedent or Nicole Richie's rumored pregnancy. Hmm. I may have to start paying attention.

hand to mouth

This morning I drew two dots for eyes on the side of my hand because, hey I'm in a meeting and why not look professional? I've been cracking myself up ever since with my talking hand. He sings songs. He makes faces. He is sad. Now he's happy! A few minutes ago I was talking to a colleague and start smiling just THINKING about the antics of my hand. Sleep deprivation? Or COMIC GENIUS???

babies overfloweth

downstairs in the nursery, things are getting crazy. as of yesterday they moved out the three mellow older babies from B's group and added six, that's right six, very young and cranky babies. It's pretty awful- each caregiver is surrounded by like four babies, all screaming. I guess they are following the 3 to 1 ratio generally, but it doesn't look like it. It makes me very, very, very uncomfortable. Do I complain? It's only been two days, but it's not like babies are going to stop needing to eat and get diapers changed. But if I complain, what do I say? Get rid of those other babies! Keep mine! I guess I could say they need more staff working with the babies. For now, it just makes me want to go down there all the time and make sure B is okay- I mean they literally couldn't hear him if he started screaming, there are so many other babies screaming. It's like my daycare went from awesome to shitty in one fell swoop.

all business

The baby comes up to visit me at lunch every day. At home the boy is not above engaging in some shennangins with his food. He may play with the boob, bouncing his head back and forth, or only eat for a few minutes until distracted, or out of nowhere decide that the boob is really PISSING HIM OFF and start crying. At lunch at the office there is none of that. There is only eating. Today it was twenty minutes before he came up for air. It is often an entire hour of solid noshing. I'm not quite sure why there is the difference, but it's pretty funny. Perhaps he is influenced by his mother's impressive work ethic.... Or the way I scarf down my own lunch...
In other boob news, my righty seems to be recovering. Was the threats of an additional morning pumping session? The bribe of actual solid food? (It's been a ginger ale and crackers kind of week). Who cares? Welcome back!

strike!

No, not from work- my underappreciated right boob has finally given up the ghost. Twenty minutes and a TRICKLE? THIS is what you give me? Not a crisis yet, but we're getting close. Shape up, right boob. Yes, life is hard- the boy certainly has abused you (repeatedly turning his head to watch the fan comes to mind). But that's what we do. We feed the boy. And someday, if we're good, we'll get 8 hours in a row off to sleep. That's the best I can offer. COME BACK!!!