Boobs have been following me everywhere these last few days.  Seriously.  Or maybe I’m following them.  I don’t know.

Monday morning I awoke to a throbbing right boob as a result of a thrush problem we’ve been experiencing lately.  Jude has some oral medication for it, and my O.B. got something to me yesterday, so the wincing during feedings is disappearing already.

Additionally, I ran across this fabulous article yesterday and accidentally incited an Epic Facebook War by linking to it.  Apparently I’m a Lactation Nazi or something because I think 12% is an incredibly low number to breastfeed into the 6th month.  Anyway.  That’s neither here nor there, but have a look at it.  Some of it is stuff we all know, but the benefits of breastfeeding are presented in a dollar amount which I had never really thought of before.  It seems a little exaggerated perhaps, but I love that the piece ran in major newspapers and is getting mainstream exposure.  Maybe those LLL freaks know something after all.

Then, I ran across this gem earlier today that basically asserts that pumping on the job will ruin your career, so women should hang it up when they head back to work.  Ms. Ruth Mantell (who had a luxurious 6 month maternity leave, by the way) actually has the nerve to state, “While a can of premium formula comes with a premium price tag, feeding infants with formula uses less of one of mom’s most precious resources: time.” Ummmm, what? God forbid I spend TIME with my INFANT.  Everyone knows babies should never require any time, right?  Having managed to pump and work full-time for the past 14 weeks, I could write and write and write about this, but I’ve reached my boobie quotient for the week.

Tomorrow afternoon consists of a haircut (a daring one by my standards) and a pedicure.  Happily, no more pondering boobies for me.  They’re there.  I use them.  I’m happy to use them for the betterment of my baby’s health.  In summation, that’s all.  I’m boobied out.