Let The Wean {And Weeping} Begin

Thanks in part to not being home as much during the day, Severus has begun weaning himself from the breast, and I am terribly bummed out about it.

Once I experienced him running around in circles, I I knew weaning would follow closely. He is by far one of our speediest, busiest Minions, he does not have time to stop poking the couch, or chasing his big brothers, or dancing - so that he can nurse.

"Pssshaw!", he says instead "I got thangs to do, mom woman! Oooooh, is that a Froot Loop or chalk? Either way, I'm going to eat it!"

The engorgement is awfully painful, the worst - when I get home I follow him around offering myself up to him; "Want to nurse, Sevie? Pleeeeeeeeeease? Nurse? Boo boo, nurse? Sevie, do you want milk? MILK? Please! Milk!? MY GOD, CHILD, PLEASE NURSE AND SAVE ME FROM THIS OUTRAGEOUS PAIN!"

He haughtily chuckles at my desperate attempts, sometimes he even shakes his head and tosses me a toy as a consolation prize.

"Here, kid. Take this and shut up, you're embarrassing yourself." is what I imagine he'd say, if he had the vocabulary.

And I'm forgotten, thrown to the wolves, unloved and unwanted until bedtime, when I'm still the main source of his comfort.

I'd love to shake my fist in revolt and march around the living room with a "Bring Breastfeeding Back!" sign held high in the air, but he can't read, so what good would it do?

Besides, after having to wean the bigger Minions, instead of allowing them to make the decision for themselves, I am grateful that Severus had the opportunity to nurse as long as he did without some new baby or crazy disaster unceremoniously bumping him from the boob. 

He's able to make it very clear that I'm not the parent he wants to hang out with in the morning and would rather try to eat his brothers' hair than snuggle at my chest, that's cool... I'll live.

If it's alright with you though, I'm going to ignore the "Daddy's Little Sweetheart" onesie he's wearing and pretend he's still the teeny tiny baby who loved me the most.

You Can't Drink Baby Powder And Other Random Drivel

The weekends are too fast.

I haven't been able to finish the 30 Day Photography Challenge and due to super camera burnout, I doubt there will be a 366 day project on my horizon. Aside from a few pictures of my mother's shelves {she's selling them, now that she is closing up her store}, I have not even looked at my camera in days.

Severus has started sleeping again, and thank goodness, otherwise last week would have been a killer. 

I started some six week program-y/class thing and I'm out of the house by 8:30, last week the class ended by 1-1:30, this week it ends at 4, with little wiggle room. I have no time for anything. I'm sitting there on the 30 minute lunch break hoping no one speaks to me so I can try to finalize the new website design, fill out business license information, pair up 90+ Tumblr Moms, try to write something for someone somewhere...

I've started drinking two cups of coffee a day, by the time I get home I have to pee so bad my face hurts and I'm STILL barely making it to 8pm Minion Bedtime. 

He and I both went to bed at 9:30 last night, but that was way too early for me apparently, since I'm awake now.

Caesar has been singing this weird song about a cat taking off its soggy clothes and warming its toes by the fire all weekend. Every time I ask him where he learned it from he laughs and says "Mrs. Mcpuppet, Mommy!" which makes about as much damn sense as the song she taught him.

After the school's new-ish principal decided to ban Halloween fun and pretended Christmas {or any other holiday} didn't exist, I figured we wouldn't have to deal with Valentine's Day either. But of course, the one holiday I loathe above all others, they're going to acknowledge, so I picked out these SICKENINGLY ADORABLE personalized cards on Etsy!

Glad I had the sense enough to ask Caesar what he wanted, because while he thought the ones I chose were cute, he was really hoping to be able to exchange Hello Kitty Valentines.

I don't know if that's a fail or a win on my part since I love Hello Kitty, but damn those other cards were SO CUTE! however, I do know that there are Hello Kitty Valentines sitting on my dresser waiting to be addressed to his classmates and teachers, and Caesar is pleased!

After this class is over, I'm going to start looking into playgroups for Mercutio and Severus, and Caesar wants to start Karate. 

I think I need a break. I think I'm going to take a couple of weeks off from social media and blogging {and email too, maybe}. I'm still going to focus on getting the new site together, and getting myself in order because I'm in super runaway mode, I keep adding stuff to do, but never manage to finish, or can't find time for, I'm starting to feel angry - not sad, or depressed, but constantly pissed off - and that is just not working. 

I don't want to talk to anyone, but then I feel unbelievably miserable because no one texts me. It's that kind of month. I see all the things people are doing with friends and partners and I'm just like *womp, womp, womp* forever alone, when I know damn well if someone invited me anywhere I likely wouldn't go anyway.

I've spent most of this week pissed at Christian for being thoughtless and insensitive and I'm not even sure it's his fault anymore. Well, no, part of it IS his fault, I know that - but most of it is me just feeling like an imbalanced twatwaffle.

I probably need a life.

I just grabbed the bottle of baby powder thinking it was the can of soda that I didn't even retrieve because the kitchen is freezing.

What the hell is wrong with me?

*sigh*

Le Tricksters

I sent someone an email today, in response to a super sweet comment, left right here on my blog.

The comment was from our beloved friend, Spam. 

My email account was compromised, and now I'm getting a butt ton of messages for largening the size of my penis, and quite frankly, I'm not interested, nor am I all that thrilled. I don't know where Spam is getting its information from, but my penis is just fine the way it is, thank you. And if you were one of a few people who received similar emails from me, I assure you - your penis is fine too. {And I apologize! Grrr, Spam.}

So, commenting to comments via email is obviously not going to work and since I REFUSE {Repeat; REFRICKIN'FUSE} to enable captchas, commenting within the comments shall resume henceforth!

Squarespace is a remarkable webhost, but they are not too crafty with the Spam combat and Spam is clever these days.

They have email addresses like REAL PEOPLE now.

What a pain in the bumbum.