The Squirt Factor

Sooner or later I was going to post something like this, and it might as well be sooner. Besides, Gabzilla is sleeping and I've got a few minutes to kill before getting ready for PICTURES WITH BUNNIES!

Yeah, I'm just a bit excited! I'm also a bit worried. Gabz was full of smiles this morning....from her coy little teasing smile, to her full on; "knock-you-dead-buy-her-anything-she-wants" smile....all morning long....smile, smile, smile! I did tell her she should probably save a few for later. So we'll see if she heeded my advice. I'm also debating what to put on my darling daughters gorgeously bald head.....a little banded bow? The hat that came with the outfit she's going it wear? Or just let her go bald and beautiful - the Mr. Clean Look? Decisions, decisions!

And I think Gareth is more excited about the live bunnies than anything else! He keeps walking around the house uttering; "bunnies, BUNNIES!!!! bunnies, BUNNIES! REAL LIVE BUNNIES!" the way some men at nudie bars walk around saying; "boobies, REAL LIVE BOOBIES!".....not that I've ever been to a nudie bar. Yuck! It just cracks me up listening to Gareth get excited about the bunnies. With my luck, they'll probably terrify Gabz.

What was I saying anyhow before I went off on the bunny tangent? Oh yeah, talking about the Squirt Factor.

Breastfeeding offers the modern mother many conveniences....no bottle washing, steralizing, or having to drag your tired ass out of bed at 3AM to heat a bottle for the baby. It comes in convenient pre-packaging and in pretty nice containers (well unless their mine - 'nuff said!), and it's always there, ready, and warm. Just whip out your boob and pop in baby's mouth and you're good to go!

But along with all those lovely conveniences there are some faux pas as well.

Do you recall about 6 weeks back, my post about taking Gabz to the store and having to NIP (Nurse in Public) there because she was screaming like a banshee and as a result, what happened? Well, to make a long story short, a courtesy clerk/bag boy got a milk bath. An UNINTENTIONAL milk bath, but a milk bath none-the-less. He got squirted and I no longer shop at that grocery store. I don't even grocery shop in that city! And as a result, everytime we're out somewhere and I have to feed her and have not pumped a bottle of breastmilk for her beforehand, there's this little voice in my head that shouts; "careful with those puppies, them's LOADED!"

I'm sitting there the other night with Gabzilla, trying to figure out why she's acting like I taste funny. She'd latch on one minute and then whip her head around, WITHOUT unlatching from my boob! OWWWWWWW. Anyhow she kept doing this and I was sitting there thinking that she drained me. It wouldn't have been the first time. So, I did what any other milkin' momma would have done, I checked to see if I had any milk by "hand expressing" some.

Well, I can't help it if my aim was a bit off. Heck, I wasn't even aiming anywhere intentionally.

Lets just say that there was indeed still some milk left and now Gareth sits at least 15 feet away from me whenever I am feeding Gabzilla.