Thursday, December 14, 2006

Today's subject: They shot you up today, baby.

Hey there, Little Man!

Today you got to go see Dr. H, which you loved... and get three needles in your legs, which you hated. I'm sure you hated it, because you cried in a way I'd never heard you cry before. I could have sworn that you didn't even breathe between the first and the third needle, you just had your face scrunched up and red with your mouth wide open in shock. But then you got two glittery band-aids, a yummy liquid shot down your throat (something to keep you healthy, supposedly), and the nurses ran out of the room. I swiftly attached your mouth to your breast (because they are not MY breasts anymore, no no no) and everything was okay again.

You're not stupid. You knew something bad was going to happen today, so you didn't sleep but for TWO HOURS last night. You knew that, if I was tired enough, I'd call and reschedule your appointment to a more appropriate time, and you could avoid the needles a little longer. But I won. I am half asleep here at 2pm, but I WON. And now you're good to go until mid-February.

You're really smart, too. We've developed a good system at home... you don't even have to cry most of the time for me to know that you want your nee-nee. And because of that, you usually spit up less. However, the general public doesn't know that.

I can see your "I want it" cues from across the room, but sometimes, people will say "No, he's not hungry, he's not crying"... well, if I feed you once you start crying, you'll spit it all back up. It's called air. This also happens when I'm in a public place, and whoever I'm with is uncomfortable with me nourishing you (see, honey, there are a lot of perverts in this world that think of breasts as sexual playthings and nothing more). This person will usually insist that I try a pacifier, or just wait until we are in a more "suitable" location. By then, you're usually howling, and I can't even get you to latch on right... not to mention a million more people are staring at the screaming baby.

The other thing people tend to say is "No, he's not hungry, he just ate"... Sure, you may have just eaten a huge meal, but sometimes you want a snack, or you're thirsty. Or, hey, sometimes you just want to use me as a human pacifier... you're not a big fan of fake pacifiers, unless someone warm is holding it in your mouth for you.

So I'm sorry for all those times when people wait until you're screaming to hand you back. I know what you want, and as soon as I get you I'll give it to you... whether we're in a tattoo parlor, the mall, a restaurant, or even church... we'll work our way back to the front pew so you can start hearing Bro. D again, and people will either learn to get over it or take a look at themselves instead... Jesus was breastfeed, too.

Well, you're asleep. daddy's asleep, Bug's asleep. I guess I'd better take this opportunity to catch up, eh? Just don't pull another stunt like last night... I promise, no more needles for two months.

Mama, your all-you-can-eat-24-hour-nee-nee-buffet

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