On Monday, Mom, Suzianne and I went to my doctor’s office (I’m doin’ fine! Thanks to my doctor’s fancy stitch work. Thanks, Dr, D!) and then to the mall. Before we went strolling, we lunched at the Ritz and I fed Suzianne at the table.
After Suzianne was full, I was beaming with female empowerment. I handed her off to Granny Sue Sue and got up to strut to the ladies room. When I turned back, I saw this:
Why, yes. That is my breast pad. Displayed there. For all the Ritz-y world to see. Atta girl, Margie! Oh, well. At least it was a step up from feeding her on the floor in front of the men’s room.
In other news, yesterday, I actually laughed out loud when I opened the fridge to find my breast milk (four ounces, baby!) holding court on our beloved beer shelf:
Yep! Things have definitely changed for Team Newman. And now that I’m not a weepy mess–and I can walk and sit without wincing–I’m happy to report that I’m now enjoying and laughing at (nearly) every minute of it.