File 23.5 - Bonus File - Machine Gun Jubblies

I want to say thank you, to everyone who has taken the time to read this blog.  To the one that reads it, in the morning, while blowing dry their hair.  The one who reads it, laying in bed, before they get up for the day.  The one who reads it, at their desk, having their first cup of coffee.  The one who reads it, on the toilet.  You know who you are, wink wink.  I can not tell you, how grateful I am, for your support and kind words.  And the sharing!  OMG - the sharing!!!! Seriously, you guys are the shit!

I love being a Mama.  It is my favorite thing, in the world.  In all its' ridiculous, messy, hilarious glory. And I love to hear funny stories, from other Mamas.  If you have one you want to share, you can send it to me at:  I want to share a bonus post, like this, every once in awhile.  

This time I spoke with a gorgeous and sweet Mama, of a beautiful, baby girl.  She shared her story of the real life struggles of breastfeeding and being a working Mama. We will call her "Mamanonymous", to protect her identity.  Here is her story:


Momanonymous:  I was longing for social interaction, adult conversation, and a little cashola, in the pocket, to bring me slightly above the EI poverty line, was a bonus.

I’ve always moonlighted as a server, at a pub, so going back to work once a week when my daughter was 3 months old, seemed like the answer I was looking for.

Neurotic Mama: 3 months?  Holy shit!  I am pretty sure I was still wearing stained clothes, for multiple days and walking around like a zombie.  Good for you, Mama.  You are a rock star!

Momanonymous: Oh, me too... but now, I was going to be a zombie serving bevvies. I was excited, I was ready, I felt pretty good for having a 3 month old and I wanted to talk about her.

First shift back, my coworker is sick. They need me to stay later. My ‘ease into things’ four hour shift, is now TEN hours. I got this... I’ve pumped, planned, left instructions for every case scenario, for her dad. We’re good.

Fast forward 5 hours.  I’m 2 hours over my usual feeding schedule and this mama is about to blow. I’ve got Pamela Anderson’s Baywatch boobs, but man, it’s not worth the pain. 

Neurotic Mama: I wasn't able to breastfeed, so I don't have any experience with the pumping, boob exploding stuff.  I have read a lot about it, though.  I imagine things were getting desperate.

Momanonymous: Remember the femme bots from Austin Powers? Machine gun jubblies? Mine were about to rapid fire.

Neurotic Mama: Hahahah!  OMG - Yes!  That is hilarious.  I totally remember the machine gun jubblies.  You poor thing.  You know what else I always think about from that movie?  The Mini doing the 30 point turn. That is what I look like, parallel parking. The best!  I digress.  What did you do next?

Momanonymous: I called my husband. He wakes from a dead sleep. (I don’t think I’ve experienced R.E.M. since conception... Dads... ) “I need you to get me my breast pump”.

Neurotic Mama: Ya, I guess that is not something you can ask a co-worker to borrow, lol.  "Hey Susan, you don't happen to have a breast pump, I could use?"

Momanonymous: RIGHT? I mean, I’m sure one of the regulars would offer to milk me... haha ew. I can’t even believe I just said that. 

So hubby says “It’s 10pm... the baby is sleeping.  I have to be up at 5. I can’t pack her up, to drive there.” I’m hearing his excuses. And they’re valid... but there is no surviving this. “I’m calling an Uber... give it to the driver”. He hangs up.

I’m a ticking time bomb. Actually, poor choice of words, since the Uber driver specifically asked in horror, if the contents of the black bag my husband was handing him, was going to explode. (What a beautiful world we live in, amirite?)

Neurotic Mama: I mean, I would have asked the same thing!  You can never trust a mystery package...  Murder 101. I wish I could have seen the interaction, between him and your husband.  Can we say, awkward AF?  

Momanonymous: SO awkward. He rolls up to the pub and I sprint outside to greet him. If there’s any time to tip an Uber, on a Monday night, tonight’s the night. He’s awkward, I’m ecstatic. Actually, not too far off my normal cab experiences... but the poor guy. 

Neurotic Mama: "What's the weirdest thing that you have experienced as an Uber driver?"
"Well, this one night, I picked up a breast pump and brought it to a bar.  Then this ecstatic woman, with machine gun jubblies, came running out and grabbed it.  That was the biggest tip, I ever got."

Momanonymous: HAHA on this episode of “cab driver confessions...”

I stick a “be back in ten” sign on the door (ambitious on the timing... but whatever) and ask the regulars at the bar to hold down the fort. Thankfully, a few were fathers and shot me empathetic nods, after I provided them backup beers. I didn’t say they were good dads. 

Pumping in a bar bathroom... motherhood... in all it’s glory.


Thank you, Mamanonymous!!!!  I say it again, you are a f**king rockstar. That is a story for the boobs!  I mean, books!  Or Cab Driver Confessions...  

Does Mommy need to lose her shit?

Not this week.