Blues & Boobs

I think I'm officially depressed.  Well, not officially... as in I don't have clinical depression... but I sure am blue that all of my favorite people in the world drove back to their homes after Thanksgiving.  Growing up, I always looked forward to the fact that my brother and sister and I would more than likely have kids close in age.  And close in age they are... 8 sweet kiddos ages 6 and under.  What's not close is the proximity of our homes.  And it sucks!  There's no way around it... it just plain sucks. 

We're back to our normal routine this week, and it's been pretty uneventful.  One new event taking place, however?  Hayden's almost-daily biting of the boob.  Oh wowzers.  A couple of weeks ago she drew blood.  I'm not even joking, and we're not talking a small amount of blood either.  There's nothing quite like that type of pain... sharp, sudden, catch-you-off-guard, makes-you-wanna-cuss-out-loud, stinging pain.  Now she has started slowly clamping down and watches my reaction to see if she can bite a little harder.  That little toot.  Too smart for her own good.  The other breastfeeding feat she's been performing?  Moving her body to a completely upright position, sitting with her belly to mine, looking me in the face.  ALL WHILE STILL LATCHED ON.  I'll just lose it from the hilarity of the situation, and she'll start giggling, too.  ALL WHILE STILL LATCHED ON.

Times like these make me realize that devoting three years of my life to nursing babies has been totally worth it.