The growing up bullshit.
Little man Jay becomes more loving every day as he pushes his way out into his own path.
Cue heartbreak and pride. Probably not in that order, but it feels like it sometimes.
Breastfeeding is boring. Just ask him. He will give it about <1 minute attention, then he is popping off to scout the landscape. Take inventory. Note Leah's location or heaven forbid, her absence.
Pop back on. Get pissed this thing isn't cranking milk out like it used to produce. Bite momma. Laugh. You should see his face. Naughty grin that makes me laugh.
Yeah, I know. I could pump. I could take the iHop syrup supplements. Drink that tea. I could bow to the LLL and bust my ass to get my supply up. Maybe. I could also fix the flux capacitor and get the extra time to do all this.
I had the plague known as mastitis. My production took a heavy hit as I was OUT in bed with severe nausea. My milk has always been a weak spot for me. Takes it 5+ days to come in. Like a lamb.
I know it is coming to an end and I am sad before it even happens.
There is an upside, of course. I get words from Jay in exchange. I get a thunder crawl in my direction when I walk into the room. I get a literal bouncing baby boy in Rocco's arms when I walk in the room. All my room entries are quite dramatic apparently.
It helps a lot, but sometimes I get a little swept away just looking at his face and dropping him off in his dorm room.