Got into my office this morning and did the routine- change shoes, check email, list tasks, close door, pull out pump stuff WHERE IS THE PLUG? HERE? NO, HERE?
Nope. Thankfully my (insanely expensive, see below) daycare is in the same building so it is possible for me to feed the boy myself. Thing is, I make a lot more milk in the morning than he eats. So now I'm going downstairs every hour or so and pleading with the ladies to CALL ME if he shows any sign of hunger- because my pump-happy boobs are not too happy right now.
Unfortunately, this probably is not the end of the drama. My brother moved back into his house this weekend (we've rented it from him for the last year and will now live upstairs for a month or two in order to come a little closer to affording daycare), meaning a thousand boxes are now in our house and the plug could be anywhere. But I'll find it- or else the boobs will rise in protest and smother me in my sleep (yes, they could probably reach that far).
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