wrestling

Dear Julia,

I know, I know, you don't like nursing on that side. The left side is clearly sub-par. Be honest: is the milk is flavored like haggis? Is my armpit stinky? Whatever the reason, you turn your face away, you unlatch, you wail, you arch your back. You have Made Your Point.

So you'll nurse, under sufference, if I tap your body, while holding you, standing, rocking, and cooing at you. All at once. it took a while to figure out that acrobatics were the magic formula. So, fine. Acrobatics it is. I jiggle, I stand, I keep relatching you when you try to quit. I'm a mommy. I can handle it.

All this is fine. But don't, once I've done all of that, try to smile at me. If you smile, you can't nurse, too. No! Nurse! Stop smiling! No cooing! No fair being cute. Don't make me laugh. Don't make me laugh.

Argh.

Love,
Mommy