Weird bonus of breastfeeding.
Before I got pregnant I would be hard pressed to eat. I know this sounds like an ED but it seriously would just get pushed to the side filed under "Don't know what I want" and forgotten about until I would get hungry enough to make a decision and eat something. This usually resulted in me eating one meal a day and I can't promise it was even a good meal, but at least I knew what I wanted so I could eat it.
Fast forward a year or so later and I had a bad day at work. And my usual pumping space (the backroom) was being taken up by my boss who was doing work so I didn't want to boot her from the desk. However, this meant my options for pumping were bathroom and car. I opted for car, sitting in my car topless and angry.
Because of that decision I didn't pull out the crackers I keep in my locker, I didn't cover them in peanut butter, and I didn't munch on that snack while cooking some noodles I also keep in my locker. I in fact barely ate all day because I forgot that I hadn't eaten anything at lunch and was trying to keep my sweets intake down and was trying to ignore the pastry case. Which meant I didn't eat much if anything.
Then I called Mike and I forget what it was he needed me to do but it involved me running errands to a couple different stores. By the time I got home I felt so fatigued and beaten up I literally curled up on the couch with one of the kids and barely moved. Liz came over and watched me shove food, food, and more food in my mouth (Wendy's was one of the errands Mike had me run and I ate my meal, a can of soup, and something else) and then doze on and off.
Thankfully I can keep that little memento of HOW MUCH CALORIES I NEED TO FUNCTION so I don't do that again because it feels horrible. And if I weren't breastfeeding I would apparently slip back into my terrible habits of NOT EATING. So I'm really thankful feeding my wee ones reminds me to feed myself.
And unrelated to all of that is I've learned how to put the kids to bed without remaining trapped under them all night. So now I get more pump sessions in and I have something like 30oz of breast milk kicking around in my fridge AND I don't go back to work until Friday.
I get that formula might be killing my stash a bit, and my weird pumping (nonexistent) schedule at work might not be helping either, but I apparently am somehow keeping it going, so, yay to that?
I'm also writing this post so I don't write about my God awful kitchen and my God damn sink.
That God damn sink is the bane of my existence. Feel my rage.
Also, kids are five months today. That's five months of breastfeeding. One more month and I'm a quarter of the way to my goal.
Fast forward a year or so later and I had a bad day at work. And my usual pumping space (the backroom) was being taken up by my boss who was doing work so I didn't want to boot her from the desk. However, this meant my options for pumping were bathroom and car. I opted for car, sitting in my car topless and angry.
Because of that decision I didn't pull out the crackers I keep in my locker, I didn't cover them in peanut butter, and I didn't munch on that snack while cooking some noodles I also keep in my locker. I in fact barely ate all day because I forgot that I hadn't eaten anything at lunch and was trying to keep my sweets intake down and was trying to ignore the pastry case. Which meant I didn't eat much if anything.
Then I called Mike and I forget what it was he needed me to do but it involved me running errands to a couple different stores. By the time I got home I felt so fatigued and beaten up I literally curled up on the couch with one of the kids and barely moved. Liz came over and watched me shove food, food, and more food in my mouth (Wendy's was one of the errands Mike had me run and I ate my meal, a can of soup, and something else) and then doze on and off.
Thankfully I can keep that little memento of HOW MUCH CALORIES I NEED TO FUNCTION so I don't do that again because it feels horrible. And if I weren't breastfeeding I would apparently slip back into my terrible habits of NOT EATING. So I'm really thankful feeding my wee ones reminds me to feed myself.
And unrelated to all of that is I've learned how to put the kids to bed without remaining trapped under them all night. So now I get more pump sessions in and I have something like 30oz of breast milk kicking around in my fridge AND I don't go back to work until Friday.
I get that formula might be killing my stash a bit, and my weird pumping (nonexistent) schedule at work might not be helping either, but I apparently am somehow keeping it going, so, yay to that?
I'm also writing this post so I don't write about my God awful kitchen and my God damn sink.
That God damn sink is the bane of my existence. Feel my rage.
Also, kids are five months today. That's five months of breastfeeding. One more month and I'm a quarter of the way to my goal.