Motherhood: At the Pump

As if pumping isn’t degrading enough in its rawest form, here’s what it’s like to pump with a two-year-old hanging around.

Rocco yells up from the playground: MOOMMM! WHERE ARE YOU GOING, MOM?
Me: I’M GOING INSIDE TO PUMP.
R: CAN I COME WATCH, MOMMY?
Me: SURE, YOU CAN WATCH ME PUMP.
(Did I mention yet that our new neighbors were moving in yesterday?)
*5 minutes later, with me being hooked up
R: Why are there two boooooobs, Mommy?”
Me: Could you please take your head off of the breast pump?
R: Is your body making milk, Mom?
Me: Yup.
R: I drink milk.
Me: Your milk comes from cows.
R: Ha ha, no.  I drink kid milk.  Hey, pump me next, Mom! Pump me! PUMP MEEEEE!

During this pumping session I was also driven all over by Rocco’s cars, force fed Sophie the giraffe, and used as a human Kleenex.

Put that on the cover of TIME Magazine.

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