I pretty much walk around the house all the time topless.

This is, without question, not something I should be announcing — according to Maman. I pointed out that the French {and the majority of most Europeans} go topless at public beaches, so what’s the big deal about doing it in the privacy of my own home?

The deal, Maman says, is that the neighbors and passerbys might see.

But I’m over that. Way passed it. They’re just boobs. What’s the big deal about them anyway? I’m in Mommy Boob Mode now. The sexiness factor is gone for me. Who knows if it will ever return. All I see them for now is functionality.

Working boobs, if you will. I keep having to remind The BF of this. I’m tempted to walk around with a sign across my chest that reads, on duty back off.

I think it goes without saying, The BF is highly concerned about my working boobs remaining working boobs forever. I’m not exactly reassuring about the subject either.

One of the first things I said after I gave birth was, I don’t think I’ll ever want sex again, and I meant it. Ugh. I shudder at the mere memory. Talk about vayjay trauma. But that’s info for another post – – the elusive Part 2 Birth Story post I need to get on.

Back to the boobs.

With the mastitis, one of the things they say to do is let your boobs air dry. I take these suggestions very seriously and air dry and nipple cream — I’m on my second batch since Murphy ate the first one — I mean, really now, nipple cream?! How could that even have an appealing smell?!

I tell you, I’ll never think of “air” and “drying” the same again without having a boob visual.

But I think it really does make a difference. Meaning, yes, my boobs are feeling way better. Hurrah for hippies and homeopathic remedies! I’m also making sure I’m feeding FOH every two and a half hours so I’m never going more than five on either side without moving the milk out.

Feeling like a total milk machine. This feeding business is a full time job. The air drying could be, too.