So a maintenance guy just opened the door to my office as I sit here at my desk.
With my shirt off.
Pumping milk out of my boobs.
I yelled, "JUST A MINUTE" and crouched below my desk. He closed the door in a hurry and then asked me (through the closed door) if they'd done any construction in my office.
My life is SO glamorous and not at all embarrassing ever.
I'm tired and stressed out and I don't feel prepared for the semester to start. My syllabus prep time this week has been taken up by teaching demos and professional development workshops that were useful, but they aren't going to teach my classes for me this fall, now are they? I spent all morning proctoring and assessing essays to place students into writing classes and my head is practically spinning and I still haven't finished and have more meetings to attend tomorrow.
Last night I was the most tired and stressed I can remember feeling in a long time. So, naturally, David and I got into a big fight about nothing important at all and I was SO PISSED that if we didn't have two small people to take care of, I would have thrown something at him and stomped out of the house and driven myself to go get ice cream.
But instead I had to act like an adult and talk to him in low, measured tones even though I wanted to be screaming.
And I didn't get ice cream.
Today was Zuzu's first day at her new Montessori school. She was very excited to go, all smiles at drop-off, and the director called me mid-morning to say everything was fine, Zuzu was acting like she'd been there her whole life, and when they went out to play, she was the first one up the climber. Girlfriend is adaptable! Much more than her mama.
As weepy as I felt this week, knowing that David would be doing drop off and would have all those cute conversations with her in the car in the morning, I have to confess that when they left the house and it was just me in the kitchen fixing my yogurt, the baby still sleeping upstairs, everything so quiet and peaceful except for the dulcet tones of NPR... It was really calming! Amazing how much more relaxed the morning feels without her little voice chirping at me a steady stream of questions, demands, and often-contrary remarks.
And I will be the one who picks her up in the afternoons, so we'll still get some car talk time.
Coco transitions next week from baby room to toddler room and by that time we'll have adjusted to the new morning routine and in another week it will be hard to remember the way things were before.
Which is probably what the poor maintenance guy is thinking now that he's seen me hooked up to a breast pump.
Oh, the indignity.