I talked about celery for two hours, I saw a spider as big as my head and then I spilled the baby’s dinner. My life is so interesting it will make you weep.

Yesterday at work I had a two hour long conversation about celery.  With Lynne.  I’d love to tell you what exactly we were saying, but I think we were both asleep at the time. I believe I ended the conversation by saying something like “next time I’m at the grocery store, I’m going to get up in celery’s grill and ask it what the fuck.



Moving on…

And then I had a little incident with the breast pump.

Have I ever told you that I bring my breast pump, Mr. Thirsty, with me to work so I can pump during my dinner break instead of reading People magazine or something awesome like all normal people? Well, I do because I’m dedicated and kind of heroic and quite probably a better mother than you.

And I do it standing up in the men’s staff bathroom because it’s the only private place in the whole building and nobody uses it. The director wants us (I’m not the only one with a kid on the boob juice)to use the kitchen on the second floor just off a very dark and super creepy old room where monks used to have their dinner and also sometimes pray they’ll stop popping boners when they shower next to the other monks and stuff.

And people have keys to that room and to the kitchen. And there’s a window in the kitchen door which makes it anyone? anyone?


And my breasticles are shy, you guys, and they won’t do it when they think somebody can see–just like when you’re in a public bathroom and there’s other people there too and it’s dead. silent. and you CANNOT PEE and the more you think about peeing, the pee is just like “Fuck you! I’m not coming out!” And so you sit there just waiting for everyone to leave and then somebody farts and you try really, really hard not to laugh.

It’s exactly like that except totally different.

Anyway, I have become the stealth pumper and I run into the men’s room super fast so I don’t get caught by the feds or the director or somebody and then when I turn the pump on, I stand really, really close to it so as to muffle out the whoo-pssh! whoo-pssh! of the pump because it’s a pretty unmistakable sound and if I get caught, I’ll be dragged out by my ear and sent to the kitchen and I DON’T WANNA PUMP WITH DEAD MONKS WATCHING ME because they’re scary.

Also, they smell like dead people (probably).

This is a long post, right?

And so there I am, and I’m pumping and I’m thinking my thoughts and planning my plans and admiring my new boots and wishing I wasn’t standing up in the men’s room milking myself, when out of the corner of my eye, I notice something scurry across the floor and it was coming TOWARD ME!

And so I looked at it and it looked at me and it was a fucking spider the size of my head! (not really, but it makes this story soooo much more interesting. It was still big though. I didn’t take a picture so you’re going to have to trust me.) and normally I’m not scared of spiders but it scared the hell out of me and I yelled “GAH! SHIT!” and then I lost my grip on the pumpings and dropped the cups to the floor which made a terrible echo-y clatter as they spilled and splashed the walls.

And guess who was just outside the door when all hell broke loose in the mens’ room?

There wasn’t anyone outside the door and I know this because I checked before I started wiping Homeslice’s dinner off the floor and the walls and my NEW FUCKING SUEDE BOOTS.

And no, I had not waterproofed them yet, like an asshole.

And I got it all cleaned up and everything and poor Homeslice had to have formula for dinner, but I didn’t get caught pumping in the men’s room which is good, so this story has a mixed ending of both happy and sad pony feelings.

So yes.

That’s the most interesting stuff that’s happened to me in the last 24 hours.

PS:I’m going to have to sit under my desk and pump from now on because I’ll be damned if I go into that men’s room again.

PSS: The spider is waiting to kidnap me and take me to her web and eat me. I’m reasonably sure that could happen. Like, 75% sure. It was a BIG motherfucking spider, okay?

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  1. “It’s exactly like that except totally different.” I love this line. I said it to the husband the other day and he looked so confused. at least someone else would understand. Poor Homeslice, I’m sure she’d understand about dinner if she knew about the spider. Those things scare the crap out of me. We have giant spiders here in GA, scorpions too…yuck. You should carry some mace with you so next time Spidey comes after you, you can hit her and run.

  2. Once, when I was a waitress, one of my friends was also an awesome mommy(like you!) and pumped at work. Only she didn’t have a private bathroom to go into. She had to pump in the handicap/baby changing table stall…and the lock was bad on that stall….can you guess what happened? She was all hooked up and pumping and hoping her tables weren’t waiting for her to bring them more ranch or something and someone walked in to the stall (where, mind you, there was a strange,loud wooshing noise). Not only did the lady just walk in, she just stood there and stared until my poor friend shouted at her to get out!
    .-= chickenlips’s last blog post… much of the same =-.

  3. Maybe you need to get one of those sun reflector things that people put in the windshields of their parked cars … get a few of those and make a little fort around your desk. People should know not to bother you when they can see a distorted reflection of themselves as they approach your desk!
    .-= SoMi’s Nilsa’s last blog post… Holidays =-.

  4. Good to know some things won’t change when I become a mom. The other day, my morning went like this: (yes, this is where I post in your comments section instead of having my own blog)

    *Wake up to find cat poo in multiple locations in one room. Feed everyone (dog and cats).
    *Kill spider (massive brown thing with hair) on way to shower.
    *Get out of shower dripping naked wet to see wasp in bathroom with me. Scare crap out of cat chasing him out of the room to lock the wasp in the bathroom until I can figure out what to do. Squirt it with Windex until it falls to the floor where I smoosh it. Clean up wall (very shiny clean now thanks to massive amounts of Windex).
    *Hear weird noise. Look in room where I’d cleaned up cat poop to discover same cat now projectile vomiting all over the place – I mean, he didn’t just sit politely and puke in one spot. No, he puked a little, moved to a new spot, puked more, over again until floor is practically covered in puke.
    *Realize I’m still naked after killing spider and wasp and cleaning up cat puke. Cry a little (or a lot).
    *Finally go to work to get beat down by my job (again).

    Good to know that soon I’ll add spilling breast milk to that routine!

  5. Ok, see, if there are more than one o’ you mommies who are doing the pumping, I say that you make a lovely construction paper window cover for the room off the kitchen and go to the Goodwill or something and get a real nice, comfy chair (and maybe an ottoman) for the room.

    Back in the days when I was doing the pumping thing, I worked the graveyard shift alone and sat right at my desk (I was the only one there) and pumped (and hoped that no one who called asked what the whoo-pssh! whoo-pssh! noise was)

    And I am sorry about the boots.
    .-= MsDarkstar’s last blog post… It’s Time-Warner’s Fault… =-.

  6. I say use the kitchen. And put up a sign over the window when you are in there. One that says “Fuck off. My baby needs food more than you do, fatty.”

  7. It’s a law here in Oregon that an employer must provide a place that is private and not a restroom. Maybe this is a federal thing? Here’s what I’m saying: sue the library system. Everyone knows anyone working with books has a lot of money. A LOT OF MONEY. Deep pockets.
    .-= Melissa Lion’s last blog post… Yeti Pot =-.

  8. We have wood spiders, tree spiders, and wolf spiders here. The tree spiders are super fn aggressive and HUGE. They’re also in full force right now, trying to find hidey-holes to stay in now that weather’s getting cooler. The first time I saw one, I was in my living room all by myself. I saw it scurry and looked closer, only to realize the bastard was the size of my hand. Literally. So I start screaming, “Tarantula!!!” and my husband comes in and is like, “you’re so dramatic.” Then he sees the spider that I intend him to kill and mutters something along the lines of,”Holy sh*t!” I told him it was big.
    Then I tried to be nice when I saw one on the patio one night. I figured we were outside so I’d just sweep him off the porch. Nope. The beast came after the broom. Twice. Needless to say, he didn’t survive.
    I hate spiders.
    .-= RHz’s last blog post… I’ve been bitten. Badly. =-.

  9. I’d like to kick your director where it hurts a lot and completely cripple him in that area. No nice room at all for you to pump milk? That ass can go stick his head in dirty toilet and flush.
    .-= Marie’s last blog post… You Ask, He Answers =-.

  10. in the interests of disclosure, i feel compelled to point out that:

    1) i love spiders. never met one i didn’t like. how do you think i came up with my first daughter’s name? anything that eats tons and tons of other more pestilent bugs gets my endorsement.

    2) the library director is a woman.

    daisee: is it wrong to be turned on by the mental image of you sobbing while cleaning up cat puke while completely naked?

  11. Mr. Thirsty. Great name!

    Hope you were not talking smack about the celery. Great snack food with cream cheese or peanut butter. Yummmy

    daisee with a day like that you’ve got to put your life in blog format ~ says the guy without a blog 🙂

  12. It is crazy what women put up with. Ugh. A friend actually pumped for over a year. In. Her. Car. (Because it made other people uncomfortable)

    I hope you seriously find another place for milking that doesn’t include spiders and toilets. It should also preferably have a very comfy chair.

    LOVE the kitchen sign, though.

  13. In the director’s defense, and I can’t believe I’m actually defending the boss, it’s probably not legal for us to pump in the bathroom and she thought of the kitchen for us because it’s the only place with no cameras and no big windows. All the offices and stuff have walls of windows and there’s a camera on every nook and cranny of the place. That’s probably her motivation. It really is the most private place, but still not private.

  14. After countless centuries of humble prayer, locked in this bathroom of the afterlife, pacing relentlessly in this eternally itchy robe, the good Lord has finally answered my most earnest of requests: Please send in a broad that will show me her titties.
    .-= Christian’s last blog post… Home Version Soon To Be Released =-.

  15. The celery conversation was WAY more interesting than you make it sound. Also, you WERE defending it and I still don’t understand why. Anyway, Homeslice’s dinner on the bathroom floor explains why it’s sticky now. Good job. Next time you can milk yourself in the Admin. closet-I have the key, I’ll let you in.
    .-= Lynne’s last blog post… Laugh =-.

  16. Make sure you have a steady supply of breast milk FOREVER because in the hospital world, when your child has to go in the OR, he/she can have breast milk all the way to 4 hours before the surgery and immediately after the surgery. Otherwise, it’s NOTHING by mouth 12 hours before surgery and only diluted apple juice or water immediately after surgery.

    If I had a breastfeeding friend when my son went into OR (7 or 8 times now) I so totally would have asked (paid very well!) if she could let my son suck on her boobs.

  17. Pimp, it’s okay if you want to be turned on by me naked sobbing. But remember, I’m a short pregnant Italian chick with dark curly hair. I’m not as sexy as your tall (well, probably taller than me) blonde wife. But I secretly love that you think of me in that way 🙂

    And John, maybe one day I will get a blog going. I’m just so nervous about revealing too much of my real life on line. My husband and I have jobs that would be affected by too much disclosure, so I’d have to work really hard to stay anonymous. Plus I’m not nearly as funny as Crissy.

    Crissy, I understand why she picked the kitchen. HOWEVER, as a female who should understand our need to be a little shy about whipping out the breasticles in the public library, I would think SHE would have taped something over the damned window. We have a girl here who’s pumping and she uses the office next to me to do it (that person is on maternity leave herself). I never hear the pump. And our walls are pretty thin. So you might be okay in the bathroom after all.

  18. Crissy,
    I love the fact that you’re so dedicated to breastfeeding that you pump in a bathroom at work. The dead monks have gotta realize how much that makes you like the whole Madonna/Child scenario–so they’ll give you a pass, I’m sure.
    I only nursed my second child, and got to stay home with him, but I nursed him for 21 months…until he started pulling up my shirt and asking for suckee…
    P.S. He’s 22 now and a very smart graduate student in pharmacy. They do say nursing increases your child’s IQ! (Disclaimer: non-nursed son also in graduate school…]

  19. I like spiders very much, thank you. When I see spiders, I wonder whether they have enough bugs to eat where they are and, if not, I move them to a buggier place. As buggy as I can find. An unused men’s room at a library with monk ghosts sounds very buggy to me.

    If I were you, I would just flash my tits every chance I got. The spider probably just wanted a better look, just like the rest of us. Think about what you could do for the library! It would be the most popular library in the world!
    .-= stoogepie’s last blog post… CSI: Stoogetown =-.

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