Hello, Good-Bye

Today I shall wear black in mourning.

I really would if it wasn't so hot out.

My friend came this morning. She's been dropping hints that she was coming by soon but after no sign of her, I figured she was bluffing. I haven't heard from her in over a year, then just like that, she shows up this morning. Like, "Hey, Girlfriend! I'm here!!" Luckily, I was at home and not at work, or at the grocery store or somewhere trying to look cute.

Now that she's in town, I decided that it's probably fitting to officially kiss the Milk Man good-bye. Remember, he was starting to break up with me a few weeks ago anyway. So why not break up with him first? Isn't that how we like to roll ladies?

But I'm sad. I really didn't think it would be this hard. There were so many times months ago where I wanted to boot him out the door and slam it behind him. And here I am now, softly breaking up with him with a heavy heart. My own Dear John letter.

And of course since my girlfriend didn't give me proper warning, I don't have the house ready for her stay. Like clean sheets, for her to fall on, etc. ;-) I do still have the massive hospital "pillows" left over from her cousin. Guess those will have to do until I can run to the store.

My girlfriend's return is a nice reminder that more Cubs are possible... and even more possible than ever now if careful precautions are not taken. While more is merrier, I think we'll try to enjoy THIS CUB for a while longer!

Welcome home.

(By the way, do you like the "abstract" portrait of my friend?! I was inspired by Snake Boy)

Stuffed.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I did it. I stuffed my bra. Don't ask me why I waited until I'm 30-years-old to finally stuff my bra -- ok, actually, do ask me, and I'll tell you why.

Other than the secret thrill of actually stuffing tissue into my bra, I stuffed out of necessity. I was at a baby shower. I had on a cute little sun dress. Problem: I'm lopsided. Not naturally, but conditionally, temporarily -- oh, God, I hope temporarily!

It all began when I started supplementing formula. Shame on me. Not because supplementing formula is bad, especially if it's absolutely necessary. But because I really didn't need to at the time. I was tired of pumping. And I needed a solution for when I drop Cub off with someone a few hours once a week to run some errands. I had been pestered many times to just give the baby formula by well-wishers who had NOT breastfed their babies back when bfing was considered taboo or for the hippies. But I had held my ground for a while, until I gave in.

One day I left a small can of formula over at someone's house as a just in case policy, and low and behold Cub was fed formula that very day by eager hands as soon as I left! Many of you might say, weren't you livid? And yes, I was. But a very small part of me was also relieved. Maybe supplementing wouldn't be so bad? At least it would give me a little break from pumping!

And then started the shift. The left side has always been a little slower with the supply. But as soon as that formula was brought on board, Leftie, well, uh, left. I was determined to keep on nursing, even if I had to only do it from one side. Now I'm lopsided. Attractive, huh? Try putting on a bathing suit!!

So back to stuffing... normally I just wear shirts that don't make it obvious or make sure to nurse before going anywhere so Righties not like, "Hello, world! Look at me!" While Mr. *deflated* Leftie sits there and pouts. But that day in my little cute sun dress, I wanted to feel a little more confident. I was in the bathroom at the shower and carefully examining my cleavage, or rather, lack of -- on one side. Then I saw it. Nice fluffy facial tissue. The kind in the commercials. Oh, so soft and delicate. Hmm...

How do you do this anyway? One tissue? Two tissues? Do I have to shape it?

I wasn't sure if there was a bra stuffing technique. So I just popped a few under Leftie. It was very anti-climaxtic. Not how I imagined it in Middle School. Like sudden boobs, tuh-dah! But it did help. A little. Leftie didn't look as sad. He wasn't chirpy and showing off like Rightie. But let's say he perked up a bit.

And that's my stuffed bra story. Tuh-dah!