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We Have a Diva on Our Hands…

La La lalalala LAAaaaaaAAAAaaa!

Otherwise known as a magical boob leaking maker. (And this is a good thing…)

With lungs of an Opera singer she wails sings to the high heavens.

With a passionate voice she yodels to the mountain tops.

Give me boob, get me out of this car-seat, I have gas, change my bum.

These are her top reasons to throw back her head and render us all slaves.

Yes, I know this is how newborns/babies communicate – and yes she is catered to immediately.

For several reasons. Because she needs me/us to and because I can’t bear to hear her cry. She’s just a wee lass yet! Also?

Because my boobs immediately start to break the dam. No, not like an angry beavers game.

Like tiny pangs of sharp sprockets shooting down from my upper breast, (more than slightly uncomfortable, sometimes but not always painful) expressing the mikly flow.

Who’s with me on this? Do you have immediate physical and mental reactions to your nube’s cries? The internets tell me this is normal, and I remember it occurring with my boy.

Although not so much the leaky boob part, given my struggles with bf’ing the first time around.

About these tears. These are not just everyday baby cries. Oh no. There have a distinct diva-esque tone to them. Oh, yes. I can snuff it. So can her bro. He does not get upset or annoyed by her hollering, perse – but rather, mystified.

Watching in wonder, with eyes wide like saucers and looking at us as if to say, ‘WHOA. Mom and Dad, she’s in charge!’

You must be super impressed by my telepathic skills with my children. Wait. I know you have it too. If you are a momma…right?

Mark my words…is she’s anything like me – oh boy. Are we in for some…sauce and feist! Charisma. Sure. Be still my heart. Go on with your bad self, my girl.

Other posts by me

…also to be found carousing the Twitters.

 

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