Summertime

And the living is easy...

Man, did Billy Holiday have no idea what summer is like. I am currently going through my adjustment period of Brother not being in school and having to bring him to daycare every morning along with Jelly. It wouldn't be so bad, except Brother is a big kid and Jelly Bean is a little kid and the big kids are in a separate building from the little kids and this building is 10 minutes away.

Whew. It is almost as much work to explain it as it is to actually go through it everyday.

And in the mornings, I am such a mess. I hate waking up. My mother used to shake her head in disgust when I would roll out of bed 15 minutes before having to leave for high school, throw my hair in a pony tail, brush my teeth, grab my books and head to the car. Oh Mom! If you could only see me now try to repeat that routine only with having to pack three bags (diaper bag, complete with jars of baby food, breastmilk (which I usually have to pump that morning), change of clothes, clean bottles, etc., breast pump for making milk at work, and my purse, which is, in reality, just another diaper bag that also houses my wallet and keys.) and get two little boys out of the door.

Mind, Honey is my savior. He wakes Brother up and provides clothes for him. He usually dresses Jelly Bean as well, changes the diaper, the whole bit. Hell, he sometimes EVEN provides me with clothing. He is like, SuperDad or SuperHoney. Well, actually he is just plain Super.

And as if all this isn't really enough for me to triumph over (even though I am fully cognizant that I am whining like a little baby), Jelly Bean has thrush. Which means I have it too. Yes, you know where. And let me tell you, the sensation of being branded with a hot iron on your sensitive bits is not even remotely a pleasant one. Since pumping is so painful, I could only get three ounces of milk for today so I broke down and sent some powder to make formula to the daycare. I refuse to feel anything about it other than understanding that sometimes, you just need a little help. If he takes it, great. It will make him full and nourish his little body as best as man-made boobie-milk can. I figure that this inability to pump is just temporary until he and I can get this yeasty problem under control. Let's hear it for fungicide!

So, that is it for Bitchfest. I will try to think of something interesting to say soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe today! Who knows?