Thursday, December 16, 2010

How Hard Is It?

My evil twin has been showing up more and more lately.
She's awful.
She's a yeller and a nagger and stressed and mean.
And my husband is one of the few people that can see her.

She appeared this morning.


It all started with a bottle on the drying rack.

It wasn't clean.

How hard is it to clean out a bottle!?
Soap, hot water, a bottle brush and a little elbow grease.
It's not hard at all.
Know how I know?
I know because I rewashed all of them this morning instead of doing my hair and makeup for work. Beauty.

Every {work}night, after pumping 3+ times over the course of the day, I hand my pump bag to Chris and it's his job to prep Hannah's bottles and clean the pump parts. He does this so that I can spend a few minutes with her before eating dinner.

We agreed that this was one chore he could take off my plate.
But what's the point if he doesn't do it up to my standards?
Now I know that sentance sounds a little harsh, but we're talking about BOTTLES here. There are food born illnesses and nasties and my little baby's tummy at stake here. He can vaccuum or fold laundry craptastically all he wants. My standards for those things have decreased significantly since Hannah arrived.
But when the bottles were still greasy this morning I lost it.
I didn't set aside time this morning to clean them because Chris 'cleaned' them last night.
So I washed them myself. And then I yelled.

Part of me feels bad.
He tried.
I realize that.

I think it goes back to all this pressure I'm feeling about my milk supply.
Since going back to work, it hasn't been great.
I spend all day either pumping, or charting what I pump, or on the phone with mom/Chris finding out how she's doing {how much she's eating} or figuring out when I need to pump next or trying to figure out if I manage to add a FOURTH pumping session to my work day somehow, would THAT give me enough milk to feed her tomorrow.
It's stressful. But it's stress I'm willing to deal with because I'm committed to breastfeeding her.

But since I spend 6am to 6pm stressing about pumping breastmilk, all I want to do when I get home to pop a boob in her mouth and stare at her, not at my pump and dirty bottles.

So, see, I NEED Chris to wash that bottle correctly.
Because when he doesn't Crazy Carla comes out and concludes that he doesn't appreciate all the effort I put into to providing milk for her.
And that's not true.
He does.

I just have an evil twin that likes to come out when I'm sleep deprived and stressed out.

... and I hate pumping.

... and working.

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