Hooray for Boobies

I've been milked.  My children have sucked the life out of my boobs.  All this butt talk the other day got me thinking about my other bumps.  Or lack there of.  It wasn't always that way.  Boy did I have some knockers.  The day I came home from the hospital with Lillian, Sean and I looked in the mirror, and I swear I thought we'd both keel over with delight.   Coolest.thing.ever.  They were D's...and I should have named them when I had the chance.  Seriously... I never knew the bra alphabet went past the letter C until that day.   I've never seen more perfect breasts.  And damn it... all A,B,C, and D of them went to waste.  Making milk for an infant who didn't even appreciate them.  It all just came right back out...from both ends of her.  They never did get quite that big again.  It was a once in a life time boobortunity.  I wish I'd taken pictures.  In loving memory...of my boobs.  I should get one of those 'in loving memory' decals...and slap it right on the back of my 'the kids have sucked the life out of my taste in vehicles' mini van.  Rest in peace boobies.

Last night I was washing my bras in the sink.  A little tid bit I picked up from my mother.  She also used to tell me that more than a handful was a waste...or was it a mouthful.  But I digress.   I'm pretty sure the intention of the sink wash was to extend the wearability of pretty, little lacy Victoria's Secret numbers.  Not my boring, older than my oldest child, white and tan, nipple covers. Embarrassingly small 34 B's, hanging from the towel rack, just like they do from my body.  My bras...not my boobs.  Not enough boob to hang.  I'm sure I'll appreciate this...when I'm 102.   Their Sears tags waving through the air, like the distant memory of my porn stars appendages.  I laughed.  It was almost as funny as when Grady asked me if he had a black penis.  Napolean complex.   For me and Grady.

Lillian is still mocking my boobs with her puke, nearly five years later.  I swear just last night, after seeing my pitiful Sears purchases uglying up the bathroom, she vomited banana mucous all over her bed.  I put her in the tub, and Sean sat with her while I changed the sheets.  My over the shoulder pebble holders were so intoxicating, she fell alseep in the tub.    My boobs just have that sort of effect on people.  Look, Sean's been asleep for like, five years....how did you think I got two more kids out of him?  Hooray for boobies.

This is actually Lillian's head on my boobs.  In loving memory of my boobs,  May 2007 to June 2008.

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Ten Reasons Why Alcohol Should be Served at Preschool Christmas Programs

Tonight was Lillian's preschool Christmas program.  She's been practicing for weeks.  Shooshing baby Jesus, cloping like a donkey's feet, nodding like Mary's tired head.  I should have been practicing too.  Honing my mommy skills. Sean was coaching his middle school basketball team tonight.  It was mom versus the triple threat.  Chasing three kids in the midst of the witching hour, tracking down four sippy cups before the black mold sets in, changing two poopy diapers, wiping Lil's butt after she poops on a toilet (I know, pooping on a toilet, it's the new fad), looking for stray poop in the family room after Grady removed his own diaper ( I won't tell you which couch in case you ever visit), ironing a dress, preventing Dempsey from chewing on the iron cord,  sitting on Dempsey in the outside chance he'll let me wipe his nose, shooing Grady out of every bathroom in the house, nursing one child, preparing edible food for all three, brushing Lil's hair into her requested side ponytail (for which I can only blame my own 80's obsession), slicking down Grady's cowlick, dispensing Benadryl to Dempsey (wishing I could justify giving it to the others), undoing Lillian's make up job, dressing myself and three kids in clothes free of snot and poop, then drying Grady's shirt after he took a 'bath' in the sink, and figuring out where the milk went after I found an empty gallon jug in Lil and Grady's bedroom (they blamed each other and Sean claimed the kids said I let them have it). By the time we were all buckled into the van, I just wanted to go back into the house and guzzle a beer...or five.  While I should have been paying attention to my rock star daughter and her motley crew of wailing classmates, I was instead coming up with my top ten reasons why alcohol should be served at preschool Christmas programs.

1. The singing would have hurt less
2. No one would mind that Grady was drinking the Holy Water.  It didn't do any good in case you   were wondering.
3. The wine is already there, it'll go bad by Sunday anyway. 
4. When Dempsey climbed onto the alter the other parents would have mistook him for baby Jesus instead of shooting me death glares for screwing up their photo op
5. Because I really needed a beer 

Reasons 6 through 10...see below

Voices

"WATCH MOVIE"  Am I hearing things again?...wait no...that's a real child...wait are you sure?...it could just be those child like voices again.  I decide to take a peek.  When what to my wondering eyes should appear.  I will tell you this, it was not a minature sleigh hauled by eight tiny reindeer. It was Grady, paci in mouth, blankie in hand.

"WATCH MOVIE" he repeats in his muffled paci voice. Where the heck am I?...oh there's Sean...I must be in my bed....wasn't I just nursing someone on a couch like two minutes ago?...how did I get here?

 "Oh no buddy" I try to explain. " It's still the middle of the night" I whisper (it is 6 a.m. after all). "See...it's still dark outside....I'll come lay with you in your bed."  Hey, why not, I haven't slept in that bed yet in the past 6 hours.  I stumble and Grady weeble wobbles into the room he shares with Lillian.  We crawl into his bed...the bottom bunk. This is the warmest, softest, most comfortable bed in the house....why does our two year old have it? Note to self, discuss this with husband later.  

"See...we'll just sleep here a little while longer...then we'll watch a movie"  I try to be convincing.

"WAAAAA"  what the heck. 

"Mooooom...Dempsey's awake." I look up to see Lillian's upside down face hanging over the edge of the top bunk.   I give up...."Who wants to watch Cailou?"