Don’t cry over spilled milk…..

spilled-milk…unless of course it’s four ounces of pumped breast milk.  It was bound to happen eventually- in my effort to multitask and carry as many empty bottles, burp cloths and other paraphernalia out of the bedroom in one trip after finally getting Little R down for a nap.  Dropping a whole fresh bottle of liquid gold gracefully in to (yes that’s correct inside) a pillow stuffed sham on the floor (since just prior I had stripped the sheets to wash them and put the pillows at the side of the bed) was inevitable I suppose.  But really?  Why did it have to be the milk I just pumped and needed to bottle for our afternoon errands?  Why couldn’t it have been the glass of water I was reaching for to pile into my arms and take downstairs to the dishwasher?

Thus far the morning had been going smoothly- I had even managed to carve out time to pretty myself for a change with my ten minute hair/makeup routine and felt great because I was in my pre-pregnancy no 2 Lucky jeans 🙂  I was riding high until the great spill!

1_Udder with milking clawsIt’s different when you breastfeed and pump, and even harder when you are pumping more than nursing (thank you very much mother nature for blessing me with an overactive letdown reflex!)- I spend a good part of my day feeling like a dairy cow.

I feel like you produced it and work  twice as hard for it- and now all of my toil and effort is going through the delicate cycle.  This must be what farmers feel like when their crops give in to the drought, or when a dairy cow kicks over the bucket of freshly expressed goods.  I knew it would happen eventually, and it was Murphy’s law that it would happen at an inopportune time.

Happyness Tip:  Slow down in the morning!  Sometimes multitasking increases clumsiness.  Oh well, at least I’ll keep producing the stuff!

Merry Happyness everybody!

~M

Milk-bottles

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