I'm getting OLD.

Last Wednesday I went back to my old high school for my sister's induction into National Honors Society.  First off, am I the only one who thinks this group is some sort of cult?  Anyway.  I was sitting in the remodeled school's indoor courtyard (it used to be an outside courtyard when I attended York) and I had some crazy flashbacks to my high school days.  I could picture myself walking through the courtyard in between classes just to feel the sun on my face for a whole 35 seconds.  Then I did some quick calculations and realized I was a freshman 16 freaking years ago!  Holy CRAP!  I remember it like it was yesterday.  For a good 20 minutes I started panicking.  Where has the time gone?!  What have I done with my life?!  Why am I so fat now?  Why am I soooo old?!  I instantly wanted to be transported back to high school, and relive my carefree days.  But then I remembered my adorable kids at home, and decided that I am one lucky mama.  I'd still give anything to be a size 2 again though.  Ohhhh a girl can dream, right?!

17 year old Betsy.

Then last night we hit up my old favorite bar, Docs.  I have had some of my very favorite (crazy, drunken) nights at Docs.  I was excited to go back and make some more crazy memories.  But instead I had 3 drinks (in 5 hours), yawned the entire time, got annoyed that I had to scream over the music to have conversations, and ended up leaving by 12:30.  It was a nice evening...I liked hanging out with my friends and siblings, but I seriously kept looking at my phone thinking...Brevin is going to be up in 5 hours.  4 hours.  3 hours.  OH GOD I'M SO TIRED!  There was no dancing.  No shots.  No trying to score free drinks (hahaha as if I really could in my current condition!).  No crazy pictures.  No falls.  No plans to find something to do after hours.  All I wanted to do was SLEEP!  Yeah.  Childless Betsy would sleep until 12 or later after a night at the bar.  Current Betsy does not have that luxury.  Damn those kids of mine for needing me in the mornings ;)

Carefree Betsy after a night at Docs.  Ohhhh to be young again!

So yeah.  I'm starting to feel old.  I even woke up with a headache this morning from 3 drinks.  Pathetic.  I told myself 30 was going to be the best year ever.  So maybe I should try to at least squeeze 1 crazy drunken night in before I turn 31...just to prove that I'm not that old...

We'll see. 

Old Betsy. 

Breastfeeding Bust.

Ohhh man.  Poor Brevin was only breastfed for a week before I gave up.  Have I mentioned that I hate breastfeeding?  Oh yeah.  I did. 

Prior to giving birth, I really wanted to make breastfeeding work.  I was even *gasp* excited for it.  But the minute my little man was latched on to my boob, I remembered how much I disliked it.  I toughed through that first week, supplementing a little formula here and there, mainly to keep me sane...and then I gave up.  I pumped a few times a day for the following week to give my little man a few ounces of boob milk, but made a clean cut after my bought of mastitis cleared up.  I was DONE.  The minute I switched over to bottles I had a huge sense of relief.  Freedom!  I had felt like such a prisoner...always breastfeeding or pumping.  Ugh.  I hated it. 

I feel a bit guilty for giving up so quickly...I mean...I at least made it to 5 weeks with Isla (along with supplementing formula)!  But whatevs. 

Happy mama = happy baby. 

And he is seriously one happy baby!