Archive for August, 2007

My Milkshake Brings all the Boys to the STORE ROOM

August 31, 2007

Well, I promised it, so here it is…

When I came back from maternity leave it was a given that I’d be engaging in daily pumping to keep the milk flow going and make sure Emerson had Mom food as often as possible. I’d heard my share of horror stories about pumping, so I came into the experience armed and ready for whatever I got. A pillar of strength and determination, I walked into work, pump bag strapped securely around me. Come what may I’m getting my baby some milk!

The first day was an eye opener as there was literally nowhere for me to conduct said pumping. Rather than ask my boss (sex: male, age: 31) for a nice quiet spot to bust out of my shirt and make like a cow, I opted to do some reconnaissance work. Report: public bathrooms and storage closets. When life hands you crap, make due.

I opt for the former in hopes that the ladies’ restroom isn’t highly trafficked during the lunch hour. Wrong. As I sat on the toilet seat in the first stall, pump sucking my pride out through my nipples, I found myself half-laughing/half-humiliated at the occasional opening of the door followed by a 5 to 7 second pause as the reluctant dairy farm visitor assessed the situation deciding whether or not this potty break was truly necessary.

It didn’t take long for this experience to wear on my already mediocre tolerance level. Finally I collected my pride in a little ball, tossed it in the trash and made my way to the boss’ office to ask where a good spot would be for me to pump it up. Being a father of 2 he was quick to sympathize and brainstorm, coming up with the accounting storage room (heretofore referred to as the ASR) in the center of our office. Aptly named, the ASR consisted of stacks upon stacks of AP records surrounded by 4 thin walls. Just where I wanted to be…

Two people have a key to this office: The company Controller and my boss. He instructed me to just let him or the Controller know that I needed access and they’d let me in and I would have “udder” privacy. Easy enough.

That same day I took my first visit to the ASR. The Controller let me in, I locked the door behind me, took a deep breath and went to work on hooking up the Hoover. Standing directly next to the door, pumping in full suck I hear a sound that might as well have been my pants splitting open at the seam in a crowded room… the doorknob unlocking and yes, turning open. The words started coming out of my mouth before I even truly realized what was going on – “no… someone… here… occupied”. For a wordsmith I truly outdid myself on these notices of caution. Hurriedly attempting to stuff my cash and prizes back where they belong I turn to see my boss standing in the doorway.

His face illustrated that he got more than he bargained for in the ASR and as he quickly closed the door I heard, “I thought I heard a strange noise – I – you know – we thought the natural gas was leaking earlier…” Someone could have informed me that there could potentially be harmful fumes in the ASR and that such a potential might prompt the one of only 2 people with a key to the room who happens to be my boss to confuse the loud hum of the pump for leaking gases.

Needless to say my milk flow shut down like a pinched hose somewhere inside my lady mechanics. I emerged red-faced and a little wiser. Naturally my boss apologized and we didn’t make eye contact the rest of the day. Now I post a sign.

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Independent Woman

August 29, 2007

She’s on the move! Well, almost. Little Miss E is giving mobility a try, and for the most part she’s getting it… the sad story is, the one direction she WANTS to move in (forward) seems to be eluding her. Backwards, check; side to side via rolling, check; face plant to the ground, check; forward is accomplished only in a kamikaze-style leap from all fours when an object of considerable pleasure is directly ahead.

Not to be deterred, there is one place where Em can feel the full force of independence – next to the railing of her crib. She grabs a hold of the smooth slats showing white knuckles grasping tightly, plants her marshmallow-esque feet firmly into the berber carpet and that up-to-no-good smile spreads across her face. She explodes into fits of laughter and snorting. She’s like a fiddler at a ho-down stomping one foot up and down to the beat of victory.

Oh yes, it is hilarious. Pictures have been included for your enjoyment. Maybe crawling will happen soon… or maybe the good Lord will spare us a few more weeks or months of cleaning up all of our junk from the floor and child-proofing the whole place. Regardless, she’s one adorable little independent woman. Until she forgets to hold on, and takes a little tumble into Mom’s lap. It was fun while it lasted:). em_crib_1.jpgem-crib2.jpg