I am now sitting down to write. It is 11:00 am. My free time ends in one hour.
I have three hours of free time in the morning while Tony hangs with Mila. I always intend to write for three hours. I always find that I have important things to do. Really. I had to make some food and then an office and then some more food.
I don't have a room of my own. I co-sleep with Mila who is 18 month old. Tony has his own room. I don't sleep well with three to a bed. I tried being in a threesome relationship once. It didn't work because it was just too overwhelming for me to sleep with two people. After the initial excitement wore off, it was quite clumsy. I had to quit. I'd rather sleep with Mila than with Tony right now. She's tinier and she doesn't snore. It amazes me how loud the air in his body sounds when it leaves his body. Whether he is snoring or it is coming out of his ass. Sorry, Papa Tony, but you are a gorilla in the bed. However, I miss having my lover in my bed and snuggling with him during the night. I miss being able to do it whenever the hell we want. In our bed.
Mila sleeps in the bed with me because I think cribs are stupid. And because she's still so small and it makes absolutely no sense to my brain or to my body to put the child in the small dark room, alone in a bed that looks like a prison. I don't care if other people do it. I just think it is stupid for me. So technically, I can't complain that I'm not getting enough sleep. I mean, if she had her own room, or even her own bed, I'd sleep through the night, right? Now I am not posting this for you to tell me what I should do or to try and fix the situation. I'm just sayin'. This is what I'm writing about. So humor me and go with it.
I technically sleep through the night. Mila wakes up at four. And she's happy. And she's saying, "happy mama, happy." Then she says, "gulk" which is her word for milk. And then, "boobie, mama, boobie." I'm slow to wake up at four. She reaches into my shirt and grabs the boobie closest to her and like a gremlin grabs my nipple, tries pulling it off of me and towards her mouth.
I sat down to write about writing, but this is what you get instead.
The first grab doesn't hurt. It is annoying. I'm half asleep. She has the nipple in her mouth, I roll slightly towards her and try to fall asleep. She wants the other booby. "Gulk, mama, gulk! boobie, mama. happy." So she reaches to the other boobie. Grabs the nipple and yanks it, "gulk, gulk". She is now pinching the right nipple while getting the gulk from the left boobie. I push her hand away from my breast because it is annoying and I do not like being transister titties (sorry, that's what the boys in my high school used to call it when they'd grab at girl's shirt and try to grab a boob or a nipple and try and turn it like a knob.)
Sigh.
Mila then cries. She is no longer happy. She will only sleep with one nipple in her mouth and one finger on the other nipple. I have tried everything to curb her of this habit. Nothing works. Come on, I know what you are thinking, just put the kid someplace else or get her a crib or give her a paci or push her hand away. I've tried everything but the crib thing. I have pushed her hand away over and over and over and she screams louder and cries harder and then starts to hyperventilate. This is stressful. I do not like this method. So I stopped doing it. I put my hand over the nipple she is trying to pinch and like a baby hulk she pries my fingers off again and again till she finds it.
And let me explain. She doesn't always want to pinch it. Sometimes she just wants to poke at it. Or she likes to brush the back of her hand against it. Or she tries to turn it. Or she pets it. I know it sounds weird. You are probably raising your eyebrows and making judgments -especially if you do not nurse a toddler and do not believe in nursing past 18 months. And in case you are making that one judgment that I find more annoying than having my nipples pinched, you need to know that there is nothing remotely sexual about nursing a toddler and/or having a toddler pinch the boobie. Really. Trust me.
Okay. Back to the story. I have given the screaming toddler to sleeping Papa Tony. I have gone into his room at 4 am and turned on the lights and put the screaming Mila who is shouting like a gorilla hulk gremlin monster, 'gulk, gulk, boobie, gulk mama' at papa. She sees that I'm going to give her to papa who has the fur, not the gulk. She screams louder. She doesn't want the fur. She wants the gulk. Sleep walking Tony tries to comfort her in every way possible. And his fur does not become the gulk. She's devastated. She screams louder and froths at the mouth and shoots tears at Papa's head, who is now sad and wanting to cry because nothing he does will comfort his frothing little gremlin. It is heart breaking. So mama takes the gremlin back.
Mila gets the gulk. She turns back into a little gizmo and starts to coo and soften and snuggle (though her hand remains a gremlin and twists and pinches the other boobie nipple. After 30 minutes, 45 minutes, she falls back asleep. But she isn't really sleeping. No. It's the way the gizmo gremlin sleeps. She has her eyes closed, and it sounds like sleep but she's psychically monitoring the mama from her dreambody. I now have to pee but I'm afraid to leave the bed because if she wakes up, she'll nurse pinch for another 15 minutes. I don't want anyone to touch my boobies ever again! Please don't wake up, please! I just want to pee and then go back to sleep. I get up to go pee. She opens her eyes instantly, like the chucky doll and says, "up. up. potty. mama pee potty. mama, mama, boobie mama, boobie! mama, gulk, mama gulk!'
I tell her I'll be right back. I return, a puppy dog enslaved to this small master creatura, and I give her the sore owie boobie. I tell her, "owie, owie" and push her hand away from pinching. She is persistent in her quest. She nurses. Fondles me the way a baby gizmo fondles its mama and goes back to sleep.
People, I"m a good mama, but I hate boobie time in the morning. I really do. (insert laughter) I love admitting what I do not like. It helps me accept the truth and feel more honest and real. I am not the perfect boobie mama. Okay. back to the bed. Boobie time. gulk, gulk, gulk and we fall asleep. Relief. We are two kitties crumpled up into one another and I'm finally sleeping and landing in that last morning slumber of soft soft fulfillment of rest ...I rest to the moment of almost-being-ready-to-wake-up but not quite-ness.
"up mama, up. boobie. bacon. bacon. gulk."
And we're up!
I made corn tortillas for breakfast and home made salsa because I can and because I'm a warrior boobie mama who needs to eat eat eat and fill up after the gremlin has had her fill. Home made salsa. Farm eggs & zucchinis. Bacon. I made a corner of my own in a room that I share. Lit a candle. Sat down to write but decided to put the golden farm beets in the roasting pan to roast for a roasted borscht soup with creme fraiche for lunch and I started a pear applesauce because the pears were turning too soft and I hate things fresh off the tree going to waste.
And then I sat down here to write. And this is what you get. This is me. Mama stasha boobie warrior machine. Over and out. Last thought. I'm posting this photo of a warrior because I need a reminder for my creative self who likes when I carve out the time to hunt for my stories. Even if they are stories like this.
