MOOOOOOOOO!

Ah pumping...the task that takes up my precious working minutes and makes me a prisoner in my classroom. The monotonous rhythm of the motor, the endless washing of parts, the sitting and praying that I make enough to replace a meal and the effort that it takes to pump several times a day, is a mother's love.  A lot of love.  I'm counting down to the last day of school for several reasons but one biggie on my list is 2 1/2 months of limited pumping and feeding my babe the old fashioned way.

One of the women who led the mom's group I attended told us that we may be able to produce more milk if (while pumping) we look at pictures of our babies and smell a piece of their clothing.  I often wonder if this helps my production or simply makes me look like an idiot as I sit in my rocker, sniffing my baby's hat and smile away at his cute little pictures on my phone.  Either way, it's a small part of my day that I get to spend with Porter.  I have about a million videos of him and I don't mind one bit watching them over and over and over again.

This actually  happened to me last month.  I pumped 12 ounces at
work and left the milk in my school bag overnight.
I about died when I found them Saturday morning, warm, spoiled
and unusable and had to dump them down the drain.
 I shed a tear over this. So sad. 

During these pumping, hat sniffing, video watching sessions, I often think back to the "olden days" and how much pumping must have sucked.  I plug myself into my hands free pumping bra (so attractive, let me tell you) and let electricity do all the work for me.  Back in the day, women had to do this by hand?! How awful! It's bad enough when I forget the hands free bra and have to hold the suck-cups but to actually have to work for it? Pure torture.

I'm not even sure how this thing worked,
but I'm glad I didn't have to use it!

I think pumping in my classroom is perhaps a bit more nerve wracking for me than it should be for a couple of reasons.  1. I have my own room, with one door and one lock that I'm in charge of- or so I thought. As it turns out, all office staff, librarians and custodians share the key to my locked door. My very first day back at school, I was milking away, in the privacy of my own room when my lock turned and my door opened.  In desperation and fear all I could manage to squeak out was, "What?! Wait!" The person behind the door must have heard the terror in my voice, shut it and never admitted themselves to me.  I am now extremely jumpy when any noise comes from the doorway.  I swear, my milk making production must be less than what it could because I sit under a receiving blanket and try to ease the butterflies in my stomach for the 20 or so minutes, praying no one walks in.

And 2.One day, after a pumping session I went to my door only to find that I had forgotten to lock it. Mind you,  I work with 11 year olds.  They are always forgetting jackets, lunches, soccer balls, notebooks, pencils and their extra PE shoes in our room.  By the grace of God, no one forgot anything during lunch, no one walked in to get their forgotten chips and no one saw me hooked up to my very large, very scary, milk sucking suction cups, sniffing a baby hat and pumping away.

Hands free bliss?! This chick obviously has never had anyone
walk in on her. 

I'm leaving Daniel and Porter alone for Memorial Day weekend.  My cousin, Stewart, is getting married in San Francisco and I'm meeting my cousins for a weekend of family, fun... and pumping.  Not having my baby with me means that I will have to pump.All. The. Time. I traveled last weekend with Audrey, who left Vivian at home and I saw my weekend flashing before my eyes.  She was constantly hooked up to her machine, hiding under her hooter-hider on the airplane, on the drive to Napa, before we left for dinner, during appetizers, after dinner, and during dessert...well, not quite that often, but it sure did feel like it! Ug, anything  for my baby, I suppose!

And it is for these reasons alone that I am counting the FIVE days left of school! God bless summer break!