MacGuyvering It

As I've mentioned all too many times, providing for SB's nutritional needs while working full time is, at best, a humbling experience. On numerous occasions, as I had layer after layer of dignity peeled away like so much old onion skin, I'd believed that I had fallen as far as I can go. Yet every time I become reconciled that I've (once again) hit rock bottom, the universe conspires to pull the floor out from under me. It is a "Screw you, you are not in charge, bitch," on a cosmic scale.

My latest fall even further from grace can be blamed squarely on my forgetfulness. After carefully washing and packing away my bottles, I went off to pump only to realize I'd left them at home. Problematic, since I had the implements necessary to pump with but lacked the bits needed to pump into.

After a brief panic I started going over my options - go to the end of the day without pumping? Impossible. Pump into disposable coffee cups? Really beyond weird. Use the breast milk storage bags I always carry in my bag? YES! Oh, wait. In a needless bout of "organizing," I'd taken them out since I "never use them." I went back to panicking.

I ran to my friend who is always the voice of reason in my baby-related mishaps. After listening to me, she came up with the next best thing - zip-loc bags. I headed off to the kitchen to search, and quickly realized this was a waste of time. Granted in an office where plates and napkins are often hard to come by, finding storage bags is about as likely as walking into the kitchen with the expectation of scoring some gold bullion.

My next plan of attack was the commissary. It has an actual, working kitchen after all, so I didn't think a storage bag or two would be that outlandish a request. I was wrong. But in their kindness, the staff did give me two giant plastic bags (the kind you put veggies in at the supermarket). I was in business again.

It was an hour later that I finally settled onto the floor of our audio booth with my pump, my bags and 2 rubber bands my friend had donated to the cause. As I sat there, attaching two pump valves to a plastic bag with some elastic, and thinking "Ok, now I've really hit rock bottom. This cannot possibly get any worse," a knock came at the door. "We have to use the booth to do a recording," I was told.

Seriously? After moving my whole MacGuyver operation once more, this time to our lead director's offcie, I'll never question the universe's dominion over me again.

Images by Mykl Roventine and Clearly Ambiguous