Time Out

Sorry I haven't posted much lately, but I needed to take a little time out from blog land.  It's nice to take a little time off.  Give the creative juices and diary entries a rest.  Spend a little extra time on my family... and myself.  Recharge the batteries.  Get a little R&R.  Sit back and kick my feet up.

I'm starting to feel rejuvenated.

I know my body and mind have both been under a lot of stress/pressure over the last 4 months.  Because I've stayed on my toes and have constantly been busy trying to take care of my family as best I can... I never noticed HOW tired I truly was.  It takes a lot of energy recovering from 3 months of bed rest and a C-section.  It takes a lot of energy pumping.  It takes a lot of energy keeping everyone updated.  It takes a lot of energy trying to balance time between husband, toddler and preemie.  It takes a lot of energy walking all over the hospital.  It takes a lot of energy driving back and forth... you get the idea.  Once I finally stopped, it was like a crash on the highway; everything slammed into me and piled up.  But the work crews are out getting everything cleaned up. 

Yes, I'm starting to feel rejuvenated.  Nothing a little Time Out won't fix.

Landing The Role! Domestic Goddess: Wife & Super-Mom

Blog Challenge: Day 6.

Prompt: If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question, "What do you do?"

"All the world's a stage, and I need more lighting!"  Wait, that's not it...  "And all the men and women merely players."  Yes, that's Shakespeare.  (Although, the former quote still works best in my case; not gonna lie!  I don't mind center stage and a little lime-light.  Attention?  Yes please!  Just ask my husband.)

In high school, I did a little theatre.  I played one of the witches from Macbeth ("double, double, toil and trouble!")  I was a sparkly, fairy godmother.   I played the girl who lost a friend in the Fake Prom Crash - drunk driving accident simulation (and actually had a write-up in the paper that followed the performance, picture included.)  This is really neither here nor there.  Wait, I am making a point: Just letting you get to know me, and some of the roles I played/things I did back in the day.

The most important roles I play, however, are not on stage in an auditorium.   My most important roles are that of wife and mother... domestic goddess, and are performed on the great stage of life.

So, what all do I do exactly?  What are my many roles?  By the way, this list only depicts a small portion of my duties.

I am a daughter, and a granddaughter.  I am a sister (and can be a bratty one at times... for old times' sake... it's fun driving my brother crazy!)  I am a cousin.  I am a niece.  I am an aunt.  I am a friend-extraordinaire.  And most importantly, I am a domestic goddess (dishes, mops and brooms bow down to me... just kidding!): I am a devoted, loving wife (couldn't have asked for a better partner in crime!) and Super-Mom (yes, I do tons of whooshing.)

I am a prayer warrior.  I am a knitter and a sewer.  I am a photographer (not professionally!)  I am a blogger.  I am a chef, server and busboy.  I am a dirty-pot scrubber.  I am a stocker.  I am a chauffeur.  I am a maid.  I am a laundress.  I am a teacher.  I am a boo-boo kisser, and natural healer.  I am a snot wiper.  I am a hair comber, tooth brusher, and bath tub filler-upper.  I am an adventurer.  I scare away monsters.  I am a stuffed-animal finder, and toy wrangler.  I am a silly-song singer.  I am a funny face maker.  I am a story-teller.  I am a snuggler and cuddler.  I am a shaper of dreams.  I am an encourager of accomplishments.  I am the other half that makes my husband whole... and in turn, wouldn't be whole without him as my other half.  I am my family's chronologist: time-keeper and alarm clock too.  I am a memory maker.  I am a guardian.  I am a protector...

We have many roles in life.  There are many relationships we hold, many jobs we perform, and many things we do - some things for fun, some things out of obligation, some things out of necessity, some things out of habit, some things just for the heck of it, etc.

All jobs aside, find roles in life you can be proud of.  Make a difference in the world, no matter how big or how small... no matter if you reach one person or thousands.  I am more than satisfied being a wife and mother.  For me, these are the roles of a lifetime!

 

Lactation Room - Women Only!

Blog Challenge: Day 13.

Prompt: Issue a public apology.

To the male hospital employee wearing green scrubs: The WOMEN'S LACTATION ROOM is not your break/lounge room!  Three strikes, you're out!  You've been reported.  And for that, I make no apologies.

I will however say, "Sorry, NO BOYS ALLOWED!"

Last week, I was at the hospital visiting my oh-so-handsome son and needed to pump.  (Mamacita called and demanded I stay on schedule.  Did you know she has direct access to my breasts?  It's like a shock collar for a dog.  If the dog barks or tries to leave his yard, he gets zapped.  Well, if I don't pump breast milk every so often, Mamacita gives my ladies - Bessy and Clarabelle - a good jolt!  My breasts get super heavy, my nipples become tender and sometimes itch, and then I start to leak.  See post titled Dairy Farm, in regards to Mamacita and the ladies.)  Back to needing to pump...

I walked into the lactation room and was startled by a male hospital employee... on his way out.  I didn't think much of it after he left.  A day or so later, I found myself in the very same lactation room around the same time, and this dude is in there with the tv on, lights dimmed, and a snack in hand.  When I entered, he got up and left.  Damn-straight you better get the hell out so I can pump!

Then another day or two later, I found myself at the hospital visiting my baby, and needing to pump again.  I went into the lactation room.  One of the cubicles was in use.  The curtain was pulled, the lights were on, and the tv was on.  I naturally assumed it was a mother, pumping for her little one.

I started getting my things ready.  I attached the suction cups to the pump and closed the lid so they wouldn't pop off.  I attached the suction tubes to the suction cups.  (Mamacita was now starting to look like a beer hat, minus the beer.  Man, I haven't had a beer in so long...)  I pieced together the flanges and bottles, etc.  Then I whipped the ladies out.  (I believe Bessy mooed.)  Next, I placed the flanges perfectly around my nipps, flipped the power switch on Mamacita, and commenced dairy farm production - serving up fresh milk.

I noticed the cubicle next to me was a little quite... I mean, I didn't hear the sound of another breast pump.  Minutes passed and the other mother wasn't at work.  A red flag went up, and I thought... "OH NO!  That f*ing a-hole better not be up in here while my breasts are hanging out.  (Okay, hanging isn't exactly the right word.  When one's breasts are full of milk, they are super firm.  They don't exactly hang out from your chest... more like protrude... like they have a declaration to make.)

Then the person in the cubicle beside me cleared their throat... and that wasn't a lady!  A thousand things started running through my mind!  I couldn't believe this jerk was back and didn't have the decency to leave!  Or at least say "Hold up.  Let me get outta here."  Something!  Let a woman know a man is present.  Then I thought, I need to say something.  My blood was boiling - don't forget I am hormonal and that just added gasoline to the fire - and before I could say, "Get the fuck out of here, asshole!" he was gone.  I could tell by his brisk gait/pace that it was the same guy I'd run into the other two days.  And then I realized it was around the same time... his damn break time.

As soon as I was finished, I gathered my things and made a B-line for the front desk.  I immediately reported his shenanigans.  Ain't no mama got time fo dat drama!

I get that nurses and doctors work long shifts and need a place to crash from time to time.  BUT YOU HAVE YOUR OWN BREAK ROOMS!  I know the Lactation Room is nice, quiet, and comfortable... but it's for Women Only!  Take your creeper behind elsewhere!  

I'll say it one more time: This Ain't No Peep Show!  You betta run before Mamacita cuts you!

Let me catch him again...

Disclaimer: I would never actually harm another human being.  Mamacita cutting someone is just a joke.  I won't hesitate to get your name off of your I.D. badge and report you to everyone I possibly can... and maybe even get you transferred or fired if that's what it takes.