A little reward for making it.

Tonight I braved the world of not having to nurse and worked late. Something I haven't done since I got pregnant and started going to bed at 6 PM. It was supposed to be OT, but my little plumbing adventure earlier this week sort of killed that one. Instead it was just making up time so I don't need to take more time off. Bah! I would have rather had the cash.

In the old days, pre kid I would have headed to the bar afterward. After all, a long night of moving computer equipment is perfectly ended by a night of drinking with your coworkers and making inappropriate comments. As the lone woman in many an IT departments, and having been a theater geek in high school, I can hold my own in the raunchiest of conversations. Not at my current company though, oh no, I'm the model of professionalism here.

Tonight after finishing up, I debated going out. After all, M was already asleep, so I wouldn't be rushing home to see her to bed. I'd called before bedtime and said night night. However, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The new crowd at work is younger, and I am that old lady with the kid. So instead I headed home, and decided to celebrate my new ability to drink without consequence and head to the liquore store first.

Man, am I ever glad that I did. I'd seen Fat Tire on tap at some bars recently, but since I hadn't been to a liquor store in a couple of years, I didn't know that they were actually distributing locally. Yay! Yahoo! Sweet! Yipee! That gives at least six good Belgian style beers you can get, including all of the Blue Moon offerings. I picked a six pack of Fat Tire and one other, and when I got home realized someone had been mixing six packs so I actually got three different kinds of beer. This would be me doing the happy dance... and drinking.

Maybe a little sadder than I thought...

There are I am sure a number of people out there who were under the impression that I had already weaned M. See, I didn't say I hadn't on a number of occasions. The fact that I did it, and did it past the age of 1, meant I was some kind of sick person. Little did they know that I exclusively breastfed (there was this one little formula incident when I lost my freezer stash), pumped at work (until 14 months), and well, just keep going up until... yesterday. Tonight was our first attempt at bedtime without anything extra. Tomorrow night I will miss bedtime when I have to work late for the first time in a long time, and at 18 months, I figured it was time.

I've been putting off calling back the endocrinologist about getting a solid diagnosis for PCOS, been putting off travel assignments at work, and well, putting it off. I know we could have gone longer, and that it would have been a good thing, but it was time.

She finally started drinking cows milk, something she refused to do until about a month ago. Last week she even almost even forgot it was part of the bedtime routine. (though tonight she tried to run away from me when I said it was bedtime) I am sure it has helped her immune system, especially with being a daycare kid. I know she didn't get a couple of nasty bugs that both A and I got, and that was a good enough reason for me.

I know it had to happen, I guess I just didn't expect to be so sad about it. I fought hard to make it work despite the failings at my hospital. I even used a nipple shield long past when she should have given it up because it was the only way she'd nurse. (I hope she doesn't have any lasting nipple issues. You know being a teen and thinking hers should have little plastic hats) I made it work, I beat the averages, and now done.

Maybe some new bras will make me feel better.

WW - Butterfly, do you need your ears cleaned?

When you are the puppy, you must inspect everything, especially the ears. Who knew little butterflies had ears.

What do you know, today is my 100th post. More Wordless Wednesday.

At least I'm used to the poop.

Today my father celebrated his "senior" birthday (62) by fixing my toilet. While I was cleaning off the old wax ring, and the included "slime", I noted that it wasn't all that different than what I usually do each day. At least having a child means that you're used to being elbow deep in crap.

It wasn't what I planned on doing for his birthday. I love having an older house (something I got from him), but it comes with it's own share of issues. The least of which is that usually something has broken at least once before and someone took a half assed approach to fixing it. That was the deal with our toilet, and we took at least one of those half assed attempts at a fix. It finally failed, and just in time for dad to be in town. He is about to leave for six weeks, so the timing was amazing. What would have no doubt required the services of a plumber, who would have wanted to charge me a lot to do something more involved, cost me 50 bucks in supplies and some time with dad. I think I got a great deal.

While I haven't always gotten along with my dad, having M has really helped. It has made me stick with it when I would have rather told him to stuff it. It also helps that with age he's been willing to get help for some issues and clear out that dark cloud that was following him around. It also means I get help with my plumbing issues, and M gets to know her grandpa B.

So, happy birthday, Pops. I've emailed you the link to the blog again, maybe this time you'll check it.