But, as part of this conversation, she made the very accurate assessment that I am burned out and need a break. And not that I was doing anything wrong to get to this point -- being the one at home, exclusively breastfeeding, and not having family close by is a recipe for burnout. So she instructed me that I was REQUIRED to spend at least 6 hours away from the baby over this holiday weekend. This way, 1) I get a break and 2) Chris gets to see what it's like to be alone with the baby and have to get other stuff done too.
As it happens, my BFF Megan had decided that she was going to take me out for some pampering. I seized the opportunity and we extended the "quick lunch an a manicure" to "Let's go shopping and get our nails done and have a big lunch that includes several margaritas!!!!" (Megan and I have a very special relationship with the Perfect Margarita at Applebee's; most of the pivotal moments of our lives have involved this sacred drink. For example, this one . . .
is "Margartia Man", which saw me through a very rough day, where I had demanded Megan come pick me up, said "I have something to tell you but I'm not allowed to tell you so you have to guess!" (which she did, of course), and then spent the ride to Applebee's yelling "I'M SPEECHLESS!!! AND I'M YELLING!!! I'M SPEECHLESS AND I'M YELLING!!!")
Anyway, I spent the weekend pumping enough to spend some time away from baby, and Tuesday afternoon Megan picked me up. We got frozen lemonades from McDonald's, and then tooled around Target, where she bought the baby a Boston Bruins outfit (something about the Stanley Cup Finals, I don't know), and I found the laundry detergent packets I've been looking for for AGES. We then got our nails done and headed over the Applebee's, and I pumped IN THE CAR on the way over! It was wild!
Lunch was wonderful, and the margaritas were perfect! We ran into our friend Maggie, who followed us home for the baby time.
I "pumped and dumped" when we got home, because I was still a little buzzed (the current rule is "If you're too drunk to drive, you're too drunk to nurse. And buzzed driving is drunk driving, therefore, no nursing if you're still buzzed").
Side note: I'm afraid I only know how to "be a mother" based on what I've seen on TV, because I thought I was going to be a wreck the whole time! Calling over and over, weeping when I saw someone else's baby . . . but no. I had a great time! I didn't miss him at all! The only reason I talked about him the whole time during the manicure was because the manicurist kept asking! I would have actually preferred to talk about Mariah Carey's babies, rather than mine.
Also, I had instructed my mother not to help Chris, so he could get the full effect of being alone with the baby. She didn't listen, apparently.