Yea, though I walk through the valley of sore breasts, I shall fear no elbow.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

I awoke this morning having my left breast and nipple crushed by my child. GOOD MORNING!!

You see, Emily likes to be really, really close to me. I think if she could sleep in my uterus, she would.

So, like most children who sleep with their parents - the ones who aren't dead yet according to the new American Academy of Pediatrics full o' shit report about the "family bed" - she relegates me to a tiny, teeny section of the queen sized mattress. Try as I might, I can not get her to avail herself of the cavernous space that is the other side of the bed. I place body pillows between us - she burrows under them. I put my back to her -she climbs on like a baby orangutan.

Now, I nursed my daughter until she was 18 months. The girls have been good to her. Yes, she didn't gain any weight from the milk they produced, but there was always plenty. They do not deserve to be mangled at 6:50 a.m.

In fact, they have been very sore and achy this week. Which means that they have been bumped , jostled, grabbed, man and child handled since the moment any ache beset them. This causes me to walk through the house, protectively holding the girls and shouting "Don't touch my boobs!", while dodging husband and child. Last night, Terrance offered to massage them.

My response: "Why don't I massage your testicles after the vascetomy? I'm sure that would be comfortable."


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