Mommy guilt validated.

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Yet another thing my body refuses to do correctly.

My breasts are bitches.

So here’s yet one more thing my body can’t quite get the hang of: Breastfeeding. Specifically, producing enough milk for me to continue to breastfeed my child for at least two and a half more months (I was hoping for up to a year, but given current circumstances, I’m going to go ahead and be realistic).

I went back to work. I pump at work. This is giant pain in my ass. I hate it. It’s messy, it’s inconvenient, and I spend all my “breaks” pumping, including my lunch break.

But I continue to do it, because it’s what’s best for her, and that is my main concern.

Ellie is now used to a bottle, because, obviously, that’s how she eats all day. As a result, she now refuses to nurse when I’m at home. Apparently, it’s far too much work for her, and offends her delicate sensibilities….or….something. So now, Brian has to feed her while I pump. Again with the pumping. I really hate pumping. This takes so much extra time, and also robs me of time with her.

So apparently the stress of her not nursing -- and possibly stress from work? -- have decreased my milk supply. Insult to injury. Salt in the wound. Blah, blah, blah. Where I was once getting four ounces every three hours -- which, frankly, wasn‘t quite enough, as Ellie likes to eat somewhere between 4 and 6 ounces at every feeding at daycare (sometimes 7!! Oink!) -- I’m now getting 2. Kerri, my daycare provider, ran out of milk and had to start giving her formula. I’m feeling horrible about this. HORRIBLE. Like, way more horrible than I really should, because tons of babies eat nothing but formula and are perfectly healthy.

Mommy guilt. It’s super fun.

So I started stressing out, which, of course, made everything SO MUCH BETTER.

I started taking Fenugreek supplements again, starting eating oatmeal every morning (I heard this may increase milk supply), and, when possible, I’m pumping every two hours at work. If you’ve never utilized a breast pump, let me explain that that means that I get to work at 8, pump until 8:30, then start pumping again at 10. It sucks. My boss is getting irritated. Which is stressing me out more. Awesome.

Finally Friday I seemed to be getting some results. I’ve always gotten more milk from the left side, which is kind of weird, but whatever. I was getting about an ounce to an ounce and a half more Friday from that side than I was before.

The right side, not so much. Same amount. Apparently, she’s got an attitude. Something about, “I’m the big one, the cute one, and therefore have earned the right to refuse to do any work. Let the small one do it.”

Bitch.

FYI: Neither of them are small anymore. Or cute, for that matter. But the right is still bigger than the left.

I’m getting pissed. I almost burst into tears at work Thursday when things seemed to be getting worse. Today, Saturday, things are back to where they were on Thursday, and I am, again, almost in tears about it.

I think what I’m really feeling guilty about is I also don’t really enjoy nursing. I just don’t. Yes, it does give me more time with Ellie, but I find the entire process still a bit uncomfortable, annoying, and frustrating. That, plus the fact that I hate pumping, has me thinking this is something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don’t want to do it, even though I want to do it for her, and therefore my body has gone on strike.

To quote myself Thursday night when I spilled a crap-ton of salsa all over the floor: “Sometimes I really hate me.”

In other news, we’re pretty sure Ellie is teething. Evidence includes:

* Runny and/or stuffy nose
* Copious amounts of drool (with bubble-blowing. Yay!)
* Copious amounts of green poop. All the time. Coming out of the diaper. Super Yay!
* Gnawing on fingers and hands (and, yes, I realize she has always chewed on her fist, but it’s usually only the right FIST, and now it’s both hands simultaneously, fists or just fingers extended, while crying, and then gagging herself. REPEAT AD NASEUM).
* Diaper rash
* Sporadic crying that is unexplained by anything else.
* Oragel stops the sporadic crying.

I know it’s early for teething, but our niece, Ally, started teething at four months, so I’m not totally caught off guard by it. Also, a guy Brian works with, he and his wife had a baby a week after Ellie was born, and their child already has a tooth poking out.

What I’m trying to say is, don’t tell me she’s not teething, ‘CAUSE SHE TOTALLY IS.

We went out to my parents’ house Friday night to attempt Ellie’s bedtime routine there. We wanted to try it out once to see how it goes, because next weekend we’re planning an overnight trip to Cedar Rapids to celebrate Maidul’s birthday (Maidul is our good friend who died in a car accident in November 2008), and we don’t really want to take her with us, for several reasons. Reasons that include alcohol. And hangovers. And lots and lots of crying.

It went.....Um....Not so well. She was overtired and out of sorts when we got there. I think it was mostly because I picked her up from daycare a half hour later than usual, because I was in Maquoketa yesterday and Brian met up with a friend after work for drinks. We got home, and I didn't even take her out of the car seat, I just hurried around getting everything ready, then we plopped her back in the car. She fell asleep on the way out to my parents' house, and then woke up when we got there, so it was all of a 15-minute nap, and then she screamed her ever-loving head off for about two hours. We did, however, get her to go to sleep, and she slept great once we got to that point. We packed her back up and took her home around 10:30, and she slept all the way home, and went right back to sleep in her crib after we had her situated. So I really think she would have been fine if it weren't for that initial bump in the road.

My parents aren't quite as convinced. They insist on staying here on Saturday night instead of having her out there, because they don't want her to be scared and miserable. I feel bad, because I know they hate sleeping at other people's houses, but, honestly, it's a sure bet she'll sleep here, and not quite as sure there. I sure do appreciate their willingness to help us out. Thanks, Mom! (I know you're reading this). I'll make you a cake. Cake like the cake we talked about on Friday night. It'll be awesome.

(P.S. Mom, you might want to bring your own cake. I'm just sayin'.)

I’m knee-deep in transcripts right now. Currently, I’m on Volume V of a week-long trial that was ordered in December. I think I had four more appeals come in just this week. Those are all fairly short, I think, so I’m not too stressed, and, HOLY MONEY, BATMAN. Money we can totally use. You know, as opposed to all that money lying about that we have zero use for whatsoever.

I found a fantastic proofreader through another reporter at the courthouse, and she’s helping me out with this long one. I’m going to pay her a good chunk, but it’s worth it, because I really hate proofreading, and, plus, then the transcript gets done faster. So I’m pretty excited about that.

Let’s see, what else? Oh, the doctor suck me back on birth control pills. I’m all crampy, but haven’t had a period since six weeks after Ellie was born (so I’m not totally sure that was a period at all, but whatever), definitely not pregnant, so we discussed things and decided the pill was the best option to control my endometriosis.

Also, I go to see my orthopedic guy on Monday to have him check my shoulders. I’m also going to have him check my knee, because I hurt it trying to get up off the floor saving an old lady from a charging bull. Yeah. Yep, that’s how I did it. It’s totally not because I’m almost 30 and my joints are just disintegrating. Nope, not at all.

Seriously, what the hell is my body’s problem?

And most of my family has jumped off the crazy train. I’m so happy. That sucker was out of control and heading for the edge of a cliff. We’ll see if it holds.

OH! Did I tell you guys how I almost got in a fight at the bar? I know, super klassy! I rock. We went out for Brian's mom's birthday. My brother-in-law and his wife were there with us, and some girls my brother-in-law graduated high school with were at the same place. One came over and talked to him, and was a little too friendly, which I commented on after she walked away. Then another one came over and did the same thing, and kept looking at Stephani (his wife), and saying, "Honey, I'm not hitting on your husband," or something to that effect, over and over and over. And she called her "Honey" every. single. time. I finally snapped and said, "Then maybe you should stop calling his wife 'honey'."

I sounded like a bitch. I realize this now. But, really, all I was doing was suggesting a course of action she could take that wouldn't make her sound like such a whore. That's not bitchy, is it? I mean, if she weren't hitting on him, she wouldn't have to insist over and over again that she wasn't hitting on him, right? And I felt her calling Stephani "honey" was just plain condescending and disrespectful.

She just kind of gave me a dirty look and walked away. No biggie. Whatever.

Later, she bumped into me. It was very purposeful. I just ignored her, because, hi, I'm almost 29, and not about to lower myself to your level, lady.

We left, and on the way home Brian gave me a lecture about "not assuming people aren't crazy," and "don't say everything that pops into your head." I couldn't figure out why he was so upset, until he told me the waitress had approached him to let him know that Crazy Girl had asked her to tell her when we were leaving because she wanted to "meet me in the parking lot."

Seriously? Really? I didn't yell. I didn't call her any names. Is this actually the reaction people have? Couldn't we have just talked about it?

Okay, in hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said anything. As Brian pointed out, I should have let Stephani say something if she felt it was inappropriate. I had had two beers and my inhibitions were lowered, and I tend to get really edgy when people disrespect others' marriages. I just think it's so wrong on so many levels.

So this weekend I'm staying in and drinking. I probably won't get in any fights or mouth off to anyone, but I make no promises, people!