I Cry Over Spilt Milk.

Ummm...yeah...so when you have to fight for every half oz. that you can pump out of the old tata's for the child that's plummeted from the 90th percentile on the growth charts to 45th in a matter of 6 weeks, you do indeed get a little misty-eyed when you wake up in the morning and you forgot to take the pump parts off the tops of the storage containers to seal them up and said milk is spilled all over the yogurt containers and queso jar. And, yes, I realize that there was absolutely nothing grammatically correct about that sentence.

The sad thing is that the amount that was spilled (spilt?) wouldn't be enough to trouble most lactating women, at least those who have a normal supply. It was just overwhelming to wake up to Lac St. Leche knowing that I couldn't just pump an extra bottle here or there because I already pump after every. single. feeding.


On a completely unrelated note, one of my favorite bloggy things to do is go to my sitemeter and see which countries my visitors have come from. Of course, something like 96% are from the U.S., and I have a few Canadian visitors (Hi, Hillary!) But these were the countries that fascinate me...India, Singapore, and the U.K. So India is perhaps my cousin and his wife. Singapore might be Thanga or Li-Ern (some friends from college). The United Kingdom...??? Inquiring minds want to know!! I'm so curious now. How does one end up on my Captain Random blog from India if one is not my cousin?