My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


Mother's Day Special

Dory asked the following questions (for us all to answer if anyone else would like to jump on the wagon) about Mothers and Mother's Day.

This is probably the most difficult post I've written. My mother and I have always had a rocky relationship at best. Despite all of our hard times together, I'm going to make an honest attempt at paying tribute to my mom.

What is unique... special... important... about your relationship with your mother?
*I find it unique that after 29 years of being her daughter, my mother still does not get my warped sense of humor. Let's face it, I reek of sarcasm 99% of the time. I can quip out a response to her and like clockwork the look I get it reminiscent of a puzzled pup. Even when I tell her that I am joking or being sarcastic it still doesn't sink all the way in. It's amazing that someone so strait laced was blessed with a daughter like me (the smart ass).

When I was a little girl, I really wish my mother had....
Not tried to buy my love with material possessions. It's a common theme among my parents to lavish those they love with gifts, and as much as I loved getting a stuffed animal or a book at the mall when I was a kid, I'd have taken a picnic under a tree or an afternoon of giggling any day of the week.

When I was a little girl, my mother never...
Let me have a hamster. Or keep snakes in my room. Or let me have a sword. She never believed I saw ghosts in my room or that a lion slept in my closet. Did I mention she never let me have a hamster?

When I was a little girl, my mother always...
Had a nervous breakdown when I got near anything dirty. I would be scrubbed thoroughly twice a day or more. I would patiently reply, as her head spun around and around, that "it would wash". She never believed me. She still doesn't.

The one thing I need to say to my mother is...
Even though we'd had our differences, I still love my mom. My parents had a daughter who died two weeks after bring born, then waited for 5 more years before I was available for adoption. I have seen the pain of others who want a child so badly, and I know that I was a wanted child- even if my birth mother couldn't keep me. My mom always resented me a little- I was the apple of my father's eye, I wasn't the perfect blond haired prissy girl she'd always wanted, and ultimately I wasn't "hers". I was a tom boy, I was (and still am) independent and set in my ways. When it all comes down to it though, there is nothing I wouldn't do for my mom.

At my grandmother's funeral (which was 4 days after my grandfather's funeral- when it rains it pours huh?) my cousins J&J were picking on my mom. They'd gotten to arguing over who would take what plant. The smaller J of J&J started to get mouthy with my mom. In the chapel of a church. My mom was almost in tears when I walked over... I told J (who is all of 5'1) to back off. She smarted back, "What are YOU going to do about it?".

I am 5'8 in my bare feet. I was wearing 3 inch heels that day. That was way back in my softball playing days, aka The Brick Shit House Years.

I hovered over J, bent down to meet her eye to eye, and growled:

"I'm half your age and twice your size. You leave my mother alone or I'll kick your ass!"

It all boils down to me being the only one who can pick on my mom ya know...

--The Milk Maid says I'm way more than twice J's size now. And I can still kick her ass!



RainbowMomma said...

I was just popping by to wish you a Happy Mother's Day, however, I decided to catch up on your blogging, too. I noticed the top part that was different....former nursing mom and the like. Then I went down and read your posts. A week of weaning, then a nursing marathon. LOL! Only you, girl, only you!

Michell said...

I can sort of relate to at least part of this. Being adopted and the fact that my mom also resents me for not being what she wants me to be. Its funny the expectations parents have for their children.

Aunt Becky said...

I heart you. A lot.

B said...

I feel the same way about my sister..only I can tease or hurt her..anyone else will die. I'm glad you blogged this. You know you love her...and it was nice to read about some of the good things she does.

Anonymous said...

You're just the coolest EVah! I shiny sequin heart you.

Marcy "meg" said...

I am a little late to commenting... but wanted to let you know that this was sweet. It is so true about when people pick on our family... we are allowed to, but not others!