5: Word play and the girls...

Last night, after bath duty, footie jammies, and stories, I jumped into the Jeep, made my way past four houses -- no judgment: it was snowy -- and parked in front of Francie's house for small group Bible study with some of my favorite girls.

Inside the three of us melted into her gigantic brown leather sectional tucked into a sprawling corner of the family room.  Sunny overhead light cast a warm glow on the newest member of our group --- teeny-tiny Baby Maggie --- who now attends with her mommy; you know, so she can cluster feed before bedtime and we can jockey for who gets the next turn to snuggle her between snacks.

(I waited.  Patiently.)

As always, our 'let's settle in' conversation meandered through myriad topics and then landed decidedly on lactation.  Exhibit A was stealthily stowed under the mod-patterned hooter-hider her mommy wore on the other side of the couch...while Exhibit B (my other friend's baby) slept soundly in her crib at home.

Babyless me listened.

(And, remembered.)

F: "Maggie looooves to cluster feed.  Every night.  Time after time.  Seems like she's never full."

C: "I know!  Emma does that too!  Except she is LOSING weight.  My supply just can't keep up!"

Me: "So, what about lactation cookies?  Have you tried those to boost your supply?  I've had school friends say they really work."

C: "Lactation cookies?!?  I've never heard of such a thing!"

F: "Yep.  Those will do the trick.  I also bought some supplements on QVC -- and wow, they work. Like, I-M-M-E-D-I-A-T-E-L-Y.  If you know what I mean."

(Like taut beach balls...ouch.)

C: "Right now nursing is absolutely exhausting.  My doctor really wants to know how much milk Emma is getting, so he asked me to pump first and offer her bottles for measurement's sake. To do that, I'm pumping at least three times a day."

(I remember being hooked up at all hours to my pump.  Undeniably a labor of love.)

C: "And, I'm nursing.  Wherever; whenever.  I'm so tired of it all.  It sucks."

Me:  "Literally."

(Crickets.  Really.  Crickets.  Then, finally, a giggle.  And, a stare.)

Me: "Hey, that comment was low-hanging fruit.  Just waiting to be picked."

C: "Does your husband get your sense of humor?"

Me: "He has a degree in English."

C: "Ooooooh...."


Write on,
b