Hmm, well just a brief note to let you all know I’m still alive. Just about getting this baby thing off pat now, although we have to go to so many places and do so much stuff – post natal group, check ups, shots… they always crop up just as the poor little man’s dropped off to sleep.  Even so, I can still do more stuff than I expected, or will be able to do when he gets older, I suspect.

Good news, for the last week he has slept right through the night and though he takes a small eternity to feed, about an hour, at least I get a good long gap between. He would feed faster if he didn’t have to keep stopping and smiling beatifically up at me… but it melts my heart so how can I chide him for that?

My life is feeding, playing games and singing Old Macdonald Had a Farm very loudly – a firm favourite this one, junior appears to love the animal noises… oh yes and milk. Don’t forget milk.

There is something mildly humorous about breast feeding, not doing it but the whole milk thing is inherently comic. I appreciate that I’ll be the only person who thinks this but it’s the truth… Friends pop round, we make a cup of tea and I offer them some milk… you can see the worry crossing their faces, would she do that to me?

Yes! Mwah ha ha haargh! Actually, no. But I do enjoy saying.

“I hope this is enough milk, we don’t have much left… or at least, we do have a lot of milk but not the kind of milk you’d want to drink…” and watching them look harassed.

The other day, I had what can only be described as a milk attack. BC Minor made it known that he would like to have a meal, NOW. However, I can only feed him one breast at a time so while he is beasting one, the other tends to ooze copiously.

No worries, I put on a smashing breast milk collecting cup (yes, such things really exist, these are yet another indispensable item I have bought, pretty much by mistake, at a car boot sale) but oh no! They are the other side of the room. Putting junior down – much to his rage but I tell him all good things come to patient boys who are prepared to wait – I get up and go over to get one. Horror of horrors my boobs are pouring like a leaky bucket and I leave a trail of milk to the table and back. The mess is indescribable and I can’t help laughing.

I’m big and he’s little so I have to hold the boob up a bit when I give him a meal. Back in position, I lift it and it squirts milk in alarm like an angry cuttlefish. I guffaw and even Mini BC smiles.

Then there’s the lumps. Since I started. So at my six week check I raise my inability to massage away my blocked milk ducts. The doctor refers me to the breast clinic for a check up. One is small and hard like a pea and if it’s not a blocked duct… well we all know what that description means… Over the week we have some very hot weather and Mini BC pretty much drinks me dry three days running. The scary pea-like lump goes, hoorah! But there’s a big squishy one still very much in evidence.

I brick it all week, so much so that Mr BC kindly comes to the clinic with me. I am examined and yes there is a worrying lump, I am given an ultrasound. Phew, it’s a harmless cyst, the consultant offers to drain it – she says it will be a good idea anyway so she can see what’s in there.

They stick a needle in and what comes out?

Yes.

Milk.

Lots of it.

We laugh and I go home happy.

On top of Milk, the other thing dominating my life is tidying up. Yes, gluttons for punishment that we are, we’ve put our house on the market. We must be fricking mad! Well, no, we’re not, we’ve just found one we really like. Same kind of thing, regency town house, only bigger, detached and with a slightly larger garden. Everything we love about this house but more rooms so no more worries about sticking the rellies in expensive B&Bs or that they are too old and decrepit to sleep on a futon in the boy’s room.

Needless to say there are people who can buy it without selling their house so there’s no point in getting all excited about it as they’ll merely up their offer until we have to go away. We’ve put our house on the market anyway, though and if it doesn’t work out, well… it wasn’t meant to be.

So although I’ve hardly been here and am missing reading your blogs at least now you know where I’ve been.  I’ll be back eventually but for now Milk Management, Finding Things I’ve hidden er sorry put away to make the house look large, spacious and uncluttered (some hope) and generally trying to keep the place tidy have been sucking in all my time.

Never mind, I’ve nearly finished my novel and I’ve worked out how it ends!

Ah… now Junior is stirring. And so… to open the milk bar…