I mentioned that we had turned down the offer of a new cold, having been moping and ill since early December; Pete pointed out that I seem to be finally feeling human again, and it would be a shame to revert to zombie status. I realised that I am indeed feeling human: I am a much nicer, less grouchy human, too, despite the general work-related crappiness of Monday mornings.
It’s good to feel good, if you know what I mean. I find that I have patience to dawdle along with the Small Boy, who likes to poke at every fallen leaf and ask what’s that this mama? over and over again. And the better I feel, the nicer I am, the better I feel, etc. Awesome.
I taught my second breastfeeding class this morning, and my tutor assessed it. Initial feedback was good, despite having one of the BFC’s classic trip hazards in the class, the Man With A Farming Background. Luckily he was mostly very positive and only a little bit hung up on mother’s diet affecting the composition of breastmilk, because that’s how it works for cows. I could sense my tutor gnashing her teeth in the corner. But we’re NOT cows! she exploded, as soon as the group had gone. She kindly admired my forbearance in response to the question: can you mix breastfeeding with normal baby milk? I may have gained extra marks for not commenting that breastmilk is normal baby milk.