I pumped 4 ounces today! Yay me! I’m a milk making mama! I have this sense of pride and accomplishment, even though I stored my lunch in the ice packed milk storage bag of my breastpump and placing my pumped milk next to my container of yogurt makes me feel funny. All I need is a single serve of goat milk cheese and I can line up the lactating moms in my bag: cow, Kellie, and goat.
On the subject of lactating. Yesterday I was in the shower with Tallulah (she insists on joining me if she knows I’m taking a shower. I generally allow it since bathing frequency is low on our list of priorities. We use the smell test or the “two days since fingerpainting, but you’re still painted blue” method of bath determination.) and she was having a discussion about breasts—hers are small but they’ll be bigger when she’s grown like mine, probably when she’s eighteen. Everything is going to happen when she’s eighteen, according to Tallulah. Then she takes a swipe at mine and gives them a squeeze. “Let’s make milk come out, Mommy.” Ok, I giggle.
At this point, you are rolling your eyes and/or getting grossed out. And, honestly, so was I a little bit. It’s like making a funky colored booger or a poop shaped like Elvis. Interesting, but not exactly something you want to think about too much. Or share. But hanging out with a four year old who thinks everything made by the body is Fascinating! And Exciting! warps the mind. So I shot some milk at Tallulah who promptly squealed and yelled, “Oooh! Milk on me!”
We were still giggling about it when we exited the bathroom and Kent wanted to know what was so funny, so we told him. He immediately rolled his eyes and shut down the conversation. “That’s gross. I don’t want to know.” And this annoys me. Who is he to say my body is gross? My body is Fascinating! And Exciting! Sometimes it’s easier to hang out with the four year old.
And I’m giving him a hand mirror for his scrotum.
Musings of Motherhood
About Me
- Kellie Bonifield
- Supporting characters: Kent, husband extraordinaire with, thankfully, a wonderful set of genes including strong cheekbones and the ability to eat anything and stay slim and muscle-y which has been inherited by... Tallulah, a blond curled, angelic looking four and a half year old with a huge smile and penchant for action. She often, to my dismay, demands to be called a princess-- but only if princesses run, jump, climb trees, defend friends from bullies, and are always right. Moxie, the baby. Organized and schedule oriented, Moxie will be recieving a drool-impervious day planner for her first birthday. She is bemused by her sister's antics and often hums herself to sleep.
