Day 5 (Milk and Margaritas)

7AM

I run out of the house in a rush. So much for that whole "I don't need an alarm set; Baby Girl wakes me up the same time every day" thing. I'm starting to think the kid has a cruel sense of humor. MJ isn't home this morning because he and the guys stayed downtown after the basketball game. It's tough not having him around this morning, but I'm glad they didn't drink and drive home last night. Thankfully, my mother-in-law stayed the night. So, I throw Baby Girl football style to my mother- in-law and make a run for it.

I realize when I get into the car that I forgot my lunch. So, much for saving money today. My fuel light comes on. Why do I always need gas when I'm running late? I decide not to chance it and reluctantly pull into the Circle K. I ran out of gas on the highway of death a few years ago and refuse to ever let that happen again. Let's just say I smelled like gasoline for about 3 days after that mishap (there are some things you shouldn't do in a short skirt and heels on a windy day). I laugh at the fact that the sign on the pump says "Please Pre Pay in Advance" and that some disgruntled customer took a sharpie and crossed out the "in Advance" part. Underneath it, they wrote "WTF". I find pleasure in the fact that things like that drive other people crazy too.

8:30 AM

I start and end my week the same way: late. Luckily we do flex time, so I'm not overly concerned. I finally bite the bullet and email my accounts to let them know I'm back from maternity leave. My email and voicemail instantly become inundated. To my clients, I'm the Mother Theresa of the insurance biz. (The much more fashionable version of her that is). Let the fun begin!

11:30 Am

The morning whizzes by as I try to pretend that insurance is best thing since the Shu Uemura eye lash curler. I feel a not so pleasant tingle in my right boob. That's my cue to my pump. I hoof it up 3 flights (in heels of course) to get the extra calorie burn. I give a silent "wussup" to the people having their meeting across from the lactation room. I get all of my pumping supplies out and ready when I realize that I don't have my entire pump. In my discombobulated state this morning, I left the bottles and horns sitting on my counter. I let out a huge sigh and dejectedly go back downstairs.

I tell my boss I have to leave early because I didn't bring my entire pump. Apparently I'm speaking Korean because his face was blank. I try to explain without scarring the poor man. It comes down to me saying "Without my pump, you will find me curled up in the fetal position under my desk crying in pain while milk leaks all over." His look turns from blank to wanting to jab his eyes out. I get my point across.

Noon

I try to get my 2 work friends to go to lunch since I forgot mine. The one has plans with a friend and the other has to pick up her car she left at the bar. I commend her for having a wild night. These days my wild nights consist of changing diapers while having a glass of wine. I run down to the cafeteria and grab a sandwich from Quizno's. I immediately start to lose my mind as Gertrude at the register starts to argue with the guy infront of me about whether or not he gets a free soda. Give me an f'ing break. It's a soda worth $1.10. Just pay for the damn thing and let me get on with my life.

2:00 PM

It's the big boss' work anniversary. He's carried out 20 years of his sentence thus far. We all stand around eating cake and making office small talk. As I'm surrounded by upper management consisting primarily of men, I start to feel a warm and wet sensation on my left boob. Oh, God. My boob is leaking. Shit. Okay, I can slip away unnoticed. As I try to slither away unnoticed, someone takes this opportunity to start asking about Baby Girl. I try to cover my boob without looking like I'm groping myself and answered the man's questions. I can feel the stain getting bigger. I finally say "I have go to facilitate a webinar" and make a mad dash for my cube. I look down and have a pancake sized stain on my shirt. Thank God I wore a dark color. I throw on my NorthFace jacket and get the hell out of there.

4:00 PM

I now know how a water balloon feels when a child is squeezing it trying to make it pop. I try to get home as quickly as possible. There is little to no traffic on the highway of death. I enter my city after a nearly 4o minute commute from the city. I'm blocks away from my house and I'm suddenly stopped in traffic. Why are we stopped? Is that a police car? And an ambulance? Oh, please no. This can't be happening. There can't be an accident. I'm at the point where I'm about to ask the lady in the minivan in front of me if her child is hungry and could do me a favor. Thankfully, traffic starts to move.

4:30 PM

MJ and Baby Girl are chilling all cute and comfy watching an HBO movie. I rip off my soaked shirt and bra and run for my pump. 40 minutes later (yes, I said 40 minutes) I'm finally done pumping. I could have fed a small village in Indonesia with amount of milk I pumped.

6:00 PM

It was one hell of a long week. Between leaving Baby Girl for the first time this week and trying to pump at work, I was beat. I was supposed to have wine with the girls, but can't muster up the energy. I look at MJ and say "Let's go get Mexican. I need a margarita...or four."

So, we head off to the local Mexican joint and splurge on both food and drinks. Sadly, I know I'm going to be paying for this later...