>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!?”

>My spring wardrobe has always been lacking, and now that I still have some pregnancy weight to lose, and I must always wear something that makes nursing convenient, I am really limited. So limited that in the past few weeks I have been ranging from minor fashion faux pas to major fashion don’ts.

It all started when I quit my glamorous career on the cutting edge of database technology in exotic Broomfield. It wasn’t the epicenter of fashion, but I only saw someone wearing rubber clown shoes to work once, in three years. And it was close to a shopping mall. Now that I never need to sully my compact car with the dust of Broomfield, and I have actually been trying to bike to work more, and I still have weight to lose, and Old Navy left Boulder, well let’s just say I haven’t quite figured out my new fashion niche. (Pronounced neeeeeesh by my brother.)

So I end up biking to work in a pencil skirt (with shorts underneath) and heels one day, and then trying to convince myself that flip flops are socially acceptable for work the next day. I did end up wearing my flip flops because during my reverie, I accidentally dropped a chunky heeled sandal on my foot and thought I broke my toe. Here is what I learned about wearing my (really cute) new flip flops to work: I am short. And flip flops make a lot of noise in a quiet office. And they look terrible with the capri pants I should have donated to charity 5 years ago.

Also, when I meet all the local hot mamas and their children for a dinner playdate, I should shower, wear my contacts, and sport something other than my gray fleece.

Will I lose those last 7 pounds? Or just break down and buy some bigger clothes? Can I strike the right balance of bike-wearable-professional-fashionable clothes? Should I just try to meet some uglier friends? Stay tuned.