Some short thoughts:
Grrrr......I'm stewing in a quiet, angry depression. The hospital denied my, what I like to call, "financial aid request", although they called it a "charity discount". Is there a more demeaning phrase than "charity discount"? Why don't you just say, "You no good, dirty, rotten, too poor to even afford health care for your baby" request?
Someone is getting a piece of my mind today. I will get through to the hospital billing office if it kills me.
The holidays have snuck up on me. I feel like I have so much to do and not enough hours in the day to accomplish everything. Zac didn't fall asleep until 10:30pm last night, after almost a full hour of nursing. I can't wrap presents, make bottles, or pack a lunch for myself while sitting on the couch nursing. You just have to sit there.
Weaning during the day is going well, however. There is a whole story about WIC and the pump that they gave me that has inspired this urge to wean, but it's also getting to be about time. I'm ready to trade in nursing bras for something with lace and breast pads for.....well, nothing. I just want to throw the stupid breast pads away.
The approach of my birthday saddens me. I think it is a reflex to my time in high school and college when my birthday always coincided with finals or a gymnastics meet. This year, I'm turning 25, which of course is better than 24, but has a dual feeling of being incredibly young to be a Mom and incredibly old, or at least the last signpost to adulthood and middle age. At least I can rent a car.
I just need to get laid. One year of celibacy. I'm wiser, more cynical about love and relationships, have more stretch marks, and gigantic boobs from nursing. I can't attribute all these things to not having sex, when, in fact, several of them came specifically from having sex. I miss intimacy and the thrill of getting excited to go out or just stay at home and cuddle on the couch.