My daughter has another ear infection and a touch of the flu. It’s obvious she’s in pain and uncomfortable by the way she’s clinging to me and letting me hold her in my arms. Normally, being held is torture to her, for there are picture frames that need to be broken, furniture just waiting to be scratched, dented and spilled on, there are toys that must be scattered in every room of the house and little objects to be placed into her mouth.
Not today. Today she wants “mama” to hold her, to cuddle with her and um, to give her The Bobs.
Yes, I’m still breasfeeding my daughter. No, not as often as I used to, but yeah, still doing that whole “tittymilk distrubution” thingy up in here.
DO NOT JUDGE ME.
Let me rephrase that.
Do not judge me as I have judged others, because you may say to yourself “I will NEVER breastfeed a child that can ask for it, but until you become and old, lazy woman who JUST WANTS TO SLEEP IN and you learn the way to sleep in is to bring your child into bed with you and let them drink of The Bobs, well, you really have no business passing judgement on others.
Long live The Tittymilk!
I feel badly for my little girl, I truly hate for her to be in pain. I’ll do anything I can to cheer her up, even if that means drinking excessive amounts of diet coke to WOW her with my contest winning burping skills. There really isn’t anything I won’t do to make her smile, because seeing her sickly breaks my heart.
Lucky for me, it’s not hard to get the girl to smile.
She is such a good natured little girl.
Do not mistake “good natured” with “Always happy and sweet” because Girlfriend is a Drama Queen prone to The Dramatics. However, she’s also incredibly affection, deeply loving and ridiculously funny. She’s a joy to know and a pleasure to care for when sick.
Well, except for the part where I have to take off her puked up jammies. That is definitely not pleasurable. Nor is the writing of checks for “named brand” prescriptions (thank you jackass urgent care doctor, seriouly, ammoxicillan would have been just fine, thank you very much.) But every other aspect of caring for Her Sickness is my pleasure.
Inspite of her pain and illness, she still manages to giggle at my silliness, to lavish my cheeks with her sweet little kisses, to wrap her tiny little arms around my neck and squeeze me tightly whilst telling me she loves me. The girl is an angel.
An angel who says “Shit” when pissed, but still, an angel.