Last week was all about cats with nine lives and breaking boob addictions in babies.
And given the unresolved nature of both of the above, this week is shaping up to be much of the same.
If you'd read this, you'd know that Zeb, my 8-year-old cat was suddenly, seriously ill and then, dramatically wrenched back from the brink of a fatal injection – leaving us here, in limbo. My feeling is that Zeb is going to be fine which is great news but I can't adequately express what a mindfuck it is to take your cat to be put to sleep only to be told, "Hang on, we might have been wrong about the cancer." I had paid for the procedure! I even have the receipt which I think I'll hang onto for it's special kind of black comedy.
So, Zeb lives to fight another day. And we are left with the thankless task of trying to get a pill down his throat twice daily. Needless to say, he has been getting a lot of love and cuddles. If I were him, I would drag the convalescing out as long as I could because it's only a matter of time before he starts getting angrily chased out of sleeping children's bedrooms again.
OPERATION BAN THE BOOB
Yes, I'm still breastfeeding.
Yes, I'm totally over it.
Zee is 17 months old now – the age LD was when he was completely weaned. The difference between then and now is that LD was drinking a bottle of cow's milk in place of boob for some months prior. I have offered Zee cow's milk and even toddler formula in every possible receptacle known to baby but he will not take it. The idea of mixing breastmilk into the alternate milk and gradually changing the ratio until there is only cow's milk is an excellent idea but unfortunately, I have neither the milk supply or the inclination to pump. I am also feeding exclusively from one breast now which is doing wonders for my boob self-esteem (no longer twins? I would go as far as to say one of my boobs was adopted at birth) and the overnight feeding is killing me.
So. Time for drastic measures. B has been getting up to Zee in the night (normally two wake-ups). On the first night, Zee screamed bloody murder. And I do mean screamed. Furiously. Even as Daddy cuddled him tight. I lay listening over the monitor – I could have turned it down and tried to sleep but I had to 'be' there in support of B. It was absolutely awful and eventually, we got him up at 5am when he just wouldn't resettle.
The following night – very short-lived protestations. Success! By week's end, we were down to one wake-up only – at 4am. Unfortunately, Zee had determined that this was the starting point for the day. Sigh.
Cut to last night when his barking cough worried us enough that B slept on the couch while Zee came in with me. Can you guess who attached himself to the boob pretty much all night? Sigh.
So, another set back. I hope this doesn't mean we're right back at the start but neither of us is comfortable with letting Zee cry while he is unwell.
Operation Ban The Boob Status: On-going (fuck it)
And yes, I watched The Wedding. Of course I did. And it was bloody gorgeous and I got completely wrapped up in the fairytale-ness, the British-ness, the pomp and ceremony. And Harry. Ooooooh, Harry, you naughty boy.
So do you think I finally got a weekly family portrait done this time? Ha! You're hilarious. But in honour of The Cat That Lived, I thought the below shot was appropriate. Afterall, Zebby and LuLu were our first kids so I guess this is one of our first family portraits.
In other exciting news, I will be announcing a special giveaway later today. This Sunday is Mother's Day – and I want to celebrate with you! Stay tuned!