Boobs

Nov 16, 2009
There is a certain drudgery in the work of motherhood.  It is a sort of dull and familiar repetition, a pattern of lackluster chores with no foreseeable end. Our day begins around six in the morning.  Charlotte wakes up and I →MORE...

Dear Charlotte, For a natural, biological act, breastfeeding sure took an ass-load of effort.  It will never cease to amaze me that the human species exists at all given how difficult and agonizing breastfeeding was in the beginning. The truth is →MORE...

No amount of scratching our heads has revealed to either Donald or I why Charlotte stopped sleeping through the night.  She was snoozing nine, ten, sometimes eleven or twelve hours a pop and all was well in the world and then →MORE...

Oct 26, 2009
Charlotte is trying to kill me. Oh, she tries to be sneaky and act innocent about it, but I am on to her.  I see Very Clearly what she’s trying to do.  She’s a mother-killer, that one.  A MOTHER-KILLER. She wants →MORE...

As a nursing mother, I have run into two HUGE problems with sleeping. The first problem obviously concerns my boobs.  I may have mentioned this once or twice or ten billion times, but I produce too much milk.  I am a →MORE...