I have a persistent cough that is sucking my will to live.
Seabass, thankfully, never got this cough. He is running circles around me lately, especially in the morning. He wakes up fresh and ready to pummel the snot out of the day while I am dragging along after having been up all night coughing.
Jake isn’t feeling tippy-top either, but he gets to take Nyquil for it while I, the still-nursing-mom, am toughing it out with some all-natural so-called medicine crap that does nothing.
It was pretty funny, actually. I went up to the pharmacy window at Rite Aid and asked if I could take such-and-such medicine while still nursing. The pharmacist said, “Hold on, let me get my book.” When she came back, she was flipping through a little book about breastfeeding-safe drugs.
“Yup, that one’s okay,” she said. “I can tell because it has a little boobie and a thumbs-up next to it in my book.” She showed me the page for verification. Sure enough, there were lots of entries with little boobies and thumbs-up. Glad to know it’s that sophisticated.
Speaking of me nursing still: I have lately received a couple of comments along the lines of “Isn’t Seabass a little old to be breastfeeding?” Despite the fact that I keep my breastfeeding private at home, it still comes up from time to time for whatever reason. I suppose I’ve just never thought of a reply to the question “Isn’t he a little old?” so my default response has been one of defensiveness (me? defensive? shocking!):
“In Europe, people breastfeed until their kids are, like, twenty-five!”
“Breastfed kids are super smart!”
“It’s the only thing I can do to calm Seabass down!”
And that last one is absolutely true. I spent my first night away from home last weekend for a work event in Monterey. When I walked in the door after having been gone for 24 hours, I anticipated a big smile, a slobbery kiss, and major snuggles from Le Seabass Extraordinaire. But instead, the first thing he did was gesture like he was furiously milking a cow – the universal sign for “milk.” He couldn’t even look at my face. It was just “YOU. BOOB. NOW.”
The night away was nice, but my cold was blossoming, so I didn’t much feel like wine tasting. But work is work (like I have any right to complain!) and those wines needed drinking. After a three-hour tasting and a five-hour dinner that included four bottles of wine, my head felt like it was caving in. Of course, the part of my first night away that I was most excited about was sleeping in, reading the paper in bed, and drinking coffee the next morning. My male readers will wince to discover that I paid $24 for a bran muffin and a cup of coffee from room service – $24! – but it was worth every penny. Treats like that don’t come along too often when you’re a mommy. So zip it.
And happy Thanksgiving!