Chesty Leroux

It never fails.

Every time I am about to write a post about how breastfeeding doesn’t suck anymore, really at all, and I am totally glad I stuck with it, and I just love the breastfeeding and it’s great and I want to marry breastfeeding and oh the fabulous bonding and super boob love and blah blah blah, something gets totally fubared and it starts to suck mightily again.

Last week I noticed that there just wasn’t that much going on down there in the milk department and Eli was fussy and he totally wasn’t getting enough milk. He’s always been a very inconsistent eater which screws with my supply and I think he was pretty much getting weaned off the boob and onto oatmeal at seven months. Which is way too early for the weaning.  I didn’t do it on purpose but I think I subconsciously just needed a break from the never ending cycle of breastfeeding, baby oatmeal spackling feeding, baby bathing, baby not sleeping, baby screaming.  I didn’t even realize I was doing it but breastfeeding took the hit and then when Senor Pants wanted it, it wasn’t there.  Ironically, I think the reason I was about to post that breastfeeding was super super awesome now and not hard at all and sunshine and puppies and pretty pink rainbows!!!! is because E Dog wasn’t actually nursing that much anymore.

After I had a minor panic attack and yelled at Mr. E a few times and googled the hell out of increasing milk supply and tortured my non milk producing boobs with the death vise of doom breast pump and ate a shit ton of oatmeal, things perked back up. Or not, if you know what I mean.  Anyway, there’s milk again, right in time for Eli to decide breastfeeding is boring and lame and stupid and something that maybe loser seven month olds might be into but that he is so over.  I am now back to oversupplying and can only assume that breastmilk will be flying out of my every orifice at ten thousand feet on the nine thousand hour flight to D town.

In other news, there was this article last week, I think in the New York Times, about something called the “mom job” which is a creepy term for getting your boobs lifted and your tummy tucked all at the same time. I have nothing against plastic surgery, per se, but I do think describing anything as a “Fill in the blank Job” automatically makes it sound gross. See: hand job,blow job. Odd Job.  Whatever. Squicky.  It freaked me out.

But then although I am ashamed to admit it, the Hills was a rerun and so I was watching Jon and Kate plus Eight and the crazy mother totally had a tummy tuck, and they showed the end results and holy wah.  That woman had eight babies in there at one time or another and then Viola! it was flat as a board. It was like sculpted marble.  Her stomach was tres fabulous.  Sign me up for one of those please. Let’s just not refer to it as a mom job in mixed company, or ever again.  Thanks.