Welcome to the Tales of a Kitchen Witch Blog.
Nearly a week ago, we went to a birthday party cookout. It was super fun, complete with bonfire and roasted marshmallows. (I like to light mine on fire, blow it out, pull the charred layer off, eat it and then repeat as necessary. Yum!) We did not get home and tucked into bed until nearly midnight. A few hours later, Cooper hopped in bed with me refreshed from his long nap and ready to play at two o’clock in the morning.
We all ended up sleeping in the next day. I woke to find Cooper flopped across my body, nursing, which was interesting all by itself because I had thought he was weaning. I was groggy from the previous night’s shenanigans and it took me a minute to realize that his nursing was HURTING me.
I patted at his head in a feeble attempt to dislodge him, and then my hand brushed against my nipple……. And I thought “Wait, something is wrong here…” but I was still too much asleep to figure out that I didn’t have two nipples on my right boob. And then his sucking became excruciating and I realized he was mis-latched! At this point it felt like his mouth was filled with tiny knives and needles and I tried to push him off me, but the little sh- (I mean adorable toddler) was stuck on me like a barnacle!
Eventually, my foggy mind cleared. I remembered the way I would break suction when he was a baby and snuck my pinkie into the corner of his mouth. He broke away with an audible “pop” and rolled over, still snoring. I surveyed the damage and found a weird nipple-shaped lump of bruised flesh created by his mouth. It quickly transformed into the grossest, raspberry stippled, blue and purple bruise I’ve ever had! Well, second grossest. The winner of that contest would the time I crashed my bike whilst riding down a deathly mountain (hill) and knocked myself unconscious.
I’ll be thirty two years old next week and I am embarrassed to say I’m sporting the mother of all hickeys on the side of my boob.