>For some unknown reason, I had been lying to the pediatrician at each visit about my work status. At one appointment I said I hadn’t started working yet, when I had already started working. Then, later, I said I was working part time, when I was actually full time. I also said there were only 4 kids in Jack’s class at daycare, when there are really eight. I guess I was fearing judgment, or feeling guilty. Or maybe I thought the pediatrician couldn’t handle the news all at once and I needed to break it to him slowly. Regardless, at this 6 month checkup I came clean. Working full time and there are 8 kids in his class at daycare. The pediatrician asked what Jack is eating at the day care and I said that I was pumping, and he was getting breast milk. Reaction: “That is just great. That means you can have a fulfilling career, in addition to the career of being a mother, and Jack can still get all the benefits of breast milk. It can be done, and I wish more mothers knew that. There needs to be something on the television that educates women about pumping at work and continuing to breast feed.” I took that to mean two things.
1.) It is socially acceptable to return to full time work when you have a 6 month old. (And maybe even earlier. I don’t know because of my truth telling problem.)
2.) I should take my blog and turn it into a best selling book, and then turn my best selling book into a TV show like Sex in the City, but about combining careers and babies. There would be a few differences. Say, more flip flops, fewer Manolo Blahniks, replace Barneys with Gap Kids, fewer designer clothes, more mom jeans. JUST KIDDING about the mom jeans.
I try to follow the pediatrician’s advice, and if he thinks this TV show needs to exist, then I need to get started.
Plus, shenanigans at work this week provided enough fodder for the two part season finale. Guys using the lactation room for who knows what, non-interested parties butting in; I don’t want to spoil the whole plot but let’s just say that one of the best comebacks ever uttered in a fit of rage was uttered, sadly, not by me. “Why don’t you eat your LUNCH in the BATHROOM!?”