As mentioned in yesterday’s post, I’ve got a new baby (almost 6 months now actually) and a two-and-a-half year-old. As you might expect, this leaves me struggling to find time to crochet. I really can’t work on anything while the kids are up because the baby is constantly wanting to nurse or be changed or entertained or burped or snuggled or something. And even if he is content to do some tummy time on his own, the two-year-old inevitably decides she needs your attention the moment you decide it might be ok to do something you enjoy for yourself. That’s ok. I’m a Mom. They need me right now and before long I’ll be sad because they don’t need me anymore.
So when can I crochet? Certainly not at 10 o’clock in the evening after I’ve finally gotten both kids down to sleep (for the third time in an hour.) I still have 3 more hours of work to do with dishes to wash (I long for a dishwasher,) diapers to launder (we use cloth), lunches to pack, and bottles to fill with breast milk for the baby to take to daycare tomorrow. (Now you begin to understand why I had to back-date last night’s post to before midnight so that it would show up for June 1st.)
So multi-tasking once again becomes the necessity. More often than not I have to resort to crocheting during my lactation breaks at work. (An infinitely better use of my time than the smoke breaks I used to take years ago.) That’s right. The milk I put into those bottles that go with G-man to daycare has to be expressed sometime. So I pump at work for 20 minutes, 3 times a day. I’m neither ashamed of nor embarrassed by this. It’s liquid gold for the little guy-especially since he goes to daycare now. The nutrients and antibodies he gets simply cannot be reproduced by formula and I am proud of the work I do to provide it when I can’t be with him.
That’s right-work. It’s hard work. It’s really not pleasant and can often be darned inconvenient. And it is a big commitment. I never gave my daughter an ounce of formula and I am incredibly proud of that. I pumped at work every weekday until she was 15 months old. I struggled with supply issues the entire time too-constantly worried I wouldn’t have enough for her bottles the next day. Fortunately I don’t have that issue this time around, but that 20 minutes, three times a day adds up to 60 precious minutes of time to use. And if I pump until this one is 15 months like the last that means I’ve 9 more months of hour-a-day time to crochet!
So I sit in an uncomfortable chair, in a tiny claustrophobic closet, three times a day. I hook up my pump and turn it on. The motor cycles rhythmically and sounds like it’s repeating “one-eyed-mule,one-eyed-mule,one-eyed-mule,one-eyed-mule…” over and over and over again. And I stitch in time to the beat as the milk slowly drip, drip, drips into bottles for my sweet baby boy.