if you read my blog yesterday you saw that the dentist laid the snack-smack down on us (re: me) about breastfeeding (or boomboom as C calls it).
she got cut off cold turkey yesterday. since I was only nursing her at nap and at night, I assumed that I didn’t have much milk left. wrong. and let me tell you that cutting off your bi-daily drainage without so much as a Dear John letter is a bad idea with a capital O-U-C-H.
as for how c is handling it, she did well last night and great today at nap!
she brought me her binkie and told me she’d like to go to sleep. say what?!? you look like my child, you smell like my child, but you, obviously, are an imposter.
even though she did great, each time she woke up, she asked for boom. if my 30 gallon jugs o’milk had been in charge she’d be back in business until at least college–and it might even continue past that depending on her future college’s roommate policy.
so anyway. you get the idea that it hurts really bad to instantaneously wean. Today I decided that the well needs to run dry post haste. I had a few friends suggest to me that I put cabbage on my boobs.
pause for effect.
and guess what my next action was?
daddy j didn’t even know what he was getting himself into… he said “are we having stuffed cabbage” and I said “not exactly” and then I put the cabbage in the freezer and went and took a bath. when I got out, I immediately suited up in my cabbage bra. it didn’t exactly smell good but it was ok til I started sweating.
now when I lived in pascagoula this last year, I got reacquainted with some soul food favorites like fried green tomatoes, steamed cabbage, peas & cornbread. I can sniff out a good ole down home meal at least a click* away.
imagine my surprise when I recreated my soul food favorite, steamed cabbage, in my bra. there has to be a better way… but there isn’t.
As if the sheer act of having cabbage in your bra isnt weird enough, i had to run a few errands tonight too and I felt like I had a dirty little soul food secret. becaaaause, I did. well more wilty than dirty, but still.
my honest assessment of this old wives tale is that it’s more true than the dirty lie that chocolate causes acne, but less true than drinking cranberry juice for a uti. so far I do seem to be in less pain and less full but to be fair we are talking about a jump from
this
to
this.
I’ve yet to decide if this is really a victory or if dreaming about coleslaw tonight is my consolation prize for running around town smelling like the Whistle Stop Cafe.
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