I am a hunch-backed appliance. My posture may never recover. I understand what milk cows go through. A milking machine may hurt the poor cows a bit, yes, but it is SOOOOO much better than not being milked. That initial 2 seconds of "yow" never crosses my mind as a thing to be dreaded. All those fruitcakes in college who boycotted milk because it was mean to the poor cows will seriously change their tunes once they try to nurse their own child and pump so they can bottle feed.
Daddy feedings are a gift from God.
I can sleep through lots now.
Stroller and/or baby sling = release from house arrest.
Laundry every day now.
My end of "how was your day, dear" conversation is really pathetic and only involves funny bodily functions of our child. Yesterday, the most funny one was a burp and the child's reaction. Our sweet boy was obviously having some gas issues and I was finally getting up to go get the gas drops (which always seem to be on the floor that I'm not!). I get three steps up the stairs and he lets loose with this bass, man-sized burp. I stop and stare at him. He looks confused and makes a sound that indicates "oh that was bad". To me, this was the big funny of the day. Wow. Today I'm looking forward to talking to the mail man who I know will have a package for me to sign for. Wow.
I love my little guy more and more and more. He's funny (usually I'm laughing at him though) and insanely cute and does the darndest things.