Milking it

You knew this was coming. So many of you commented about the milk picture that I thought I should dedicate a short entry just to this subject.

To Gabby who wondered if I'm taking Domperidone to increase my milk supply: would you believe the answer is no? No Reglan either. Or Fenugreek. Or Mother's Milk Tea!

I do, however take a daily dose of Starbucks which I chase with an every-other-day dose of booze. :) Whatever it takes, right?

In all seriousness, I do feel *extremely* fortunate to have a milk supply that can support two giant, growing babies. There's a certain sense of pride that comes with looking at two babies who are all rolls and dimples and knowing I made it so. My inner dialogue usually goes something like this: I DID THAT! MADE THEM FAT! That roll over there? ME! Those three rolls down below? ME TOO! Those dimples everywhere? ALL MOI! SQUEE!

I also sometimes think this when I look at myself too closely. Though it's with much less triumph and I usually pass the blame to Haagen Daz. Damn them!

When Piglet was a baby, I would literally drown him in milk. Poor thing. It was always too much, my body just couldn't help itself! And now I know why my body did this -- in preparation for Les Twinks. See? EVERY PART OF ME IS A PLANNER.

EVERY.

PART.

If you weren't convinced of that before, you should be now.

It's real and it's deep, people.

REAL and DEEP.

I do have to send a shout-out to all nursing, pumping moms. Even when you make a lot of milk and under the best of conditions, this crap is hard. Yes, sometimes it's serene and sweet but it can also be grueling. It takes serious dedication and commitment and I salute you. I am with you in the trenches every day!

Coming soon to a blog near you, "My doula, my dealer" in HD.

But in the meantime, here are some recent pictures to whet your palate. (Apologies for the use of the word "whet," have been watching period movies again!)

P.S. Yes, I really *am* doing what you think I'm doing in that picture. Dude. You KNOW I'm a multi-tasker!

OH EM BEE.

OH. MY. BLOG.

I did it again! I made you feel unloved and abandoned!

I'm sad.

I'm ashamed!

I'm sorry.

Aaaannnnd, I was maybe a little busy.

Sometimes while I'm sitting at a red light, I find myself daydreaming about blog entries. Of course, frequently, by the time I get in front of my laptop (which is usually hours later), the blog entry idea is gone.

POOF!

Not to be mistaken for POOP! which also occurs frequently.

What I really need to do is use the memo recorder app on my iPhone to remedy this problem. I just can't bring myself to do it though because I feel like Piglet would be in the back seat in his furry throne car seat thinking "Wow, my mom's kind of a tool."

Anyway, even though not all of them made it out of the ol' thinking cap, here are some the the headlines that survived:

He pooped!

I survived!

Bags.

Loved ones.

Chubba bubba.

Party house.

My doula, my dealer.

Vice and make it a double.

More from Mr. K

Eat, Play, Sleep (newly added!)

If any of these catch your fancy (please forgive, as I only have boys, I need to flagrantly use the word 'fancy' as much as possible), leave me a comment and tell me which ones. Based on popularity (because pssht, popularity is *everything*), I'll write my next blog entry.

For now, where words fail, pictures speak.

Here's a glimpse into life at Maison Piglet over the past month.

Enjoy.

Oh WHOOPS! How did that picture of Mr. K's arse, butt, BOTTOM get in there?

And yes, that moo juice? It's from one session. And dems 10oz bottles.

YOU HEARD ME.