Soooo… you know how I’ve told you how often people will say, “you have your hands full” to me? Like strangers out in public… new neighbors… All of the people we passed at Nebraska Furniture Mart the other day whilst shopping with the trio in tow {also. Why does NFM not sell alcohol yet? That would make shopping there with children much more enjoyable. Or why don’t they go IKEA style and put in a playland for drop off? I would go there every weekend and buy furniture.}… the guy asking for money on the corner. I mean, I don’t have 82 children, people. I have 3. Just 3. But I must just look frazzled. Which I will own. Because friends, on any given day, especially right now, I am frazzled. Did I tell you my oldest child called me outside the other day only to have me find my littlest happily wogging {walking+jogging} down the sidewalk carrying scissors? Like real scissors, people. And I haven’t even the foggiest idea where he would have found them except to believe that he likely stowed them away from the old house in one of his diapers in an effort to have them at his disposal. That was the same day that, at another time, a passerby knocked on my door to make sure I knew the 20 month old was out in front of the house. Solo. I’m pretty sure this new neighborhood has me on watch. {A quick note to the Littlest: I love you just as much as your brothers. I am just in a state of frazzlement currently}. Because have it together, I do not.
Another great example of this {and the reason I have milking horns atop this post} is the fact that my husband went to defrost our deepfreeze so we can move it on Thursday {YES!!! We are getting our furniture into our new casa on THURSDAY. Not that I’m excited or anything. Not in the least. Not even a morsel of excitement. Except I might have to walk around with my legs clinched together for the next two days because otherwise I will totally pee my pants. Because excitement is no longer without consequence after two babes exited out the shoot.} because we sold our other home. Thank the good Lord. Sorry. I digress. So the hubs, cleaned out the deepfreeze prior to defrosting it and what do you know, it was Breastmilk City.
Because in all of my have-it-togetherness I have going on, I never emptied the rest of the expired mama’s moojuice out of the freezer. And after donating several hundred ounces to other MSPI mamas, I still had quite a lot of liquid gold stashed away from our 6 weeks of pumping around the clock during the NICU stay+six months of pumping after every feed {and as I type that I sorta can’t believe we survived that time. Or that I have nipples left.}. So much so that the husby said, “wow! We’re gonna be able to put food in it now!” And why did she not just stop nursing him early and give him bottles, you might be asking yourself… because the Littlest wouldn’t take a bottle once he got thrush at 6 months. So, the kiddo got it all directly from the taps from 6 months to 16 months. And then the Breastaurant closed for good.
So now, the last bit of my breastmilk has bid us adieu. We’re yet another step further from the baby phase. And we are mooooooving on down the road. Quite literally. And maybe someday, within the next ten years, I will get it together, I won’t be as frazzled, I won’t have things in my freezer that have been expired for 6 months, and I will be one of those effortless people about whom passersby say, “I don’t know how she does it.”
