Just need to grab my son...

Words I spoke to an elderly gentleman in a parking lot waiting for me to move so he could drive away...but I couldn't move because I was trying to get Emara out of the car.

And I said, "Just need to grab my son!" in the most cheerful voice ever. And I didn't even notice that I called her a him until the old man said, "What's his name?" through his open window....to which I snorted out a "Hremmphenddaa," grabbed Emara's carseat and made a run for Walgreens.

Nice one. Emara is now a son who has a name that sounds like a grandpa burp.

Moving on. I started work yesterday. Full-Time. Yikes. At least, I was yikesing.

Anyways, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I didn't cry. I didn't call home every 5 minutes to make sure she was ok. And I didn't even spring a leak when I heard her crying over the phone when I did talk to Scott. Ok, I forgot...I did cry when he called me...but my boobs didn't, so a small victory.

I think I am ok with going back to work because I have 2 incredible people taking care of her (besides her daddy) while I am gone... That, and I prepared and prepared for leaving her. I psyched myself up so much that it really helped me get through it.

What I didn't prepare for? Oh honey. Oh child. Again with the "things people forgot to mention". But, don't worry, I will blame nobody but myself for these mishaps. Nobody made me call my daughter a son.

That one was all me.

I was prepared to pump. NOT prepared for the LONG walk from my desk to the kitchen to the file room (where I pump) while carrying the worlds largest pumping contraption and a "cooler" full of breastmilk (note to self...get the slightly less obvious milk carrying apparatus next time). EVERYONE knows what you are about to do and I can't help but think they are all picturing me in true "utter" form. All of our offices have glass walls. So, I spend the walk around the building pretending to read something incredibly interesting on my phone.

It doesn't help that the file room is directly across from 2 dudes. One who is married and has kids so he probably gets it. The other? 25 year old city living single and loving it wants to write a tv show about his fraternity flag football team? Not so much. Definitely avoids eye contact with me at ALL costs.

He would probably throw up if he knew that my breastmilk was being stored in the same fridge where he gets his lunch.

Speaking of breastmilk. I drank a LARGE gulp on accident the other night. At 3am. What can I say? I was delirious. And apparently very thirsty.

I was THIS CLOSE to throwing up. Poor Emara! That stuff tastes horrible! I need to eat more candy and sweeten that stuff up. Or at least eat something that will make it taste less like a booger.

So, with that. I will leave anyone who ever in their entire lives needs to feed anything a bottle with this tidbit of advice.

If it seems clogged. Do not stick the bottle in your mouth and suck to try to unclog it. Well, at least don't lift the bottle in the air so all of said contents comes rushing into your mouth once you unclog the bottle.

This, my friends, is a serious and disgusting mistake. As my sister-in-law, Kelly, would say to her daughter....you made a sad choice.

Indeed, I made a very sad choice. Let's all learn from this, shall we?