Obsession

Remember how I casually mentioned my husbands new obsession with our teeny-tiny squirt, Chloe?

Well, we desperately want to go to a Temple Sealing group we haven't been to since I went on bed rest.  We've sorely missed it, and it was on our TOP FIVE of things we wanted to do once I ejected said squirt.

The only problem: I nurse.  And I LOVE to nurse.  And not just because of the weight loss.  Though, can I just say, I LUHUVE the weight loss from nursing?  Because, I do.

Anyway, I had to struggle and battle over "Do we give her a bottle?  Will it ruin breastfeeding?  Will she ever forgive me?  Does she really need more dirt to share with her therapist?"  You know, the usual worries.

Brett, on the other hand, is all for bottle feeding (with my breast milk.  Warning: TMI about to happen.  He LOVES watching me pump.  It is actually pretty interesting, seeing where the milk shoots out, how much is actually in there, what it looks like, etc.)  I thought he was all for bottle feeding in addition to nursing so that he could take me on romantic dates and get up with her at night on the weekends.

Man, I'm seriously delusional.

Yesterday, we gave it a test run.  Brett wanted to feed her, which was fine with me, since I needed to pump the milk anxiously awaiting squirts strong suckle. 

Turns out, he just wanted to be able to feed her, to be close to her, to provide her with about the only thing she really wants/needs from us.  He. Was. Jealous. 

I'm just blown away by this man and his new obsession.  Though, if he wants the sore, cracked nipples and the hour by hour feeding frenzies in the middle of the night, I'm all for it.  As long as I still get the weight loss.

Kelly Out