Today I am preoccupied with breastmilk - partly because Austin has spit up after every feeding today (a little worried!), partly because my friend and battle buddy just wrote about her own experiences, and partly because I keep stumbling on crap like this "study" regarding the perceived compentency of breastfeeding women (sample size for the study? In one experiment, 37 people. In the other, 55. How is this even remotely representative of the general population?? But that's another argument for another time...).

So: I am choosing to breastfeed. I was breastfed exclusively for the first few months of my life, then supplemented with formula. My mother always talks about breastfeeding as if it were the obvious choice for her, and for me, it was. Of all the considerations and decisions I've made regarding pregnancy and now mommy-hood, whether or not to breastfeed was on the extreme-easy end of the spectrum.
    
 
I love and miss you more than I could ever put into words.
Picture

- Antiope

 
Recently I found a small stack of letters Theseus wrote to me when he was in basic training. Reading through them made me happy - Theseus can be very sweet and sensitive when he wants to be. ;)

But we haven't sent each other any letters since he's been deployed; traditional paper letters can take over a week to make it across the Atlantic. We are able to talk on the phone every day, and most days we also exchange messages on Facebook. As our time on the phone is limited, we use these messages to hold longer discussions, exchange passwords and other important information, communicate sudden ideas or thoughts that normally could be sent via text message or quick phone call. The messages have become an essential means of interaction; each morning, the very first thing I do is check for anything he sent while I was sleeping.
    
 
Thanks, honey, for saving me.

[long video, skip ahead to 3:46 to see Kenny rocking a Red Sox hat, and skip further to 4:47 for the beginning of the song, our song]

- Antiope

 
Talked to Theseus for awhile today (30 whole minutes!) and got off the phone feeling really sad. I miss our little life together, with our tofu and tomato plants and bold paint colors and compost bin. We've put together such a wonderful string of love and light... it's hard to be here in the cold silence, in this empty space without him.

He is here in every room of this house, I can smell him in every piece of fabric. I left his blue towel hanging right where he left it, and until he gets home, there will be a bottle of water on his bedside table, waiting for him. These are things that make me feel a little better - sometimes, for a second, I can pretend I'm waiting for him to get home from work. But mostly, looking at his towel every morning when I get ready for work makes me intensely sad. I don't know what is harder - to leave the towel or to put it away.

It's not the towel, really. It's being in our home without my husband.

I can't wait until he gets home. :(

- Antiope

 
Our back yard is filled with fireflies tonight. While I welcome their arrival (summer is really here!), I have to admit a little sadness. I'd love to watch them dart and flash with Theseus...
    
 
After work I finally took the bag of soggy kitchen scraps outside to the compost bin, but not before digging through the fridge for more old produce. Into the compost went an entire, unopened bag of turnips, one of lettuce, and one of baby carrots. I also threw in a mostly full bag of green grapes, a cucumber, a lemon and half an onion.
    
 
I'd planned on beginning a long-term project today, of which I have a number to choose from:

- sand and repaint end table
- sand and repaint Theseus's nightstand
- smooth and repaint walls in guest bathroom
- yard work
- yard work
- yard work


I decided instead to give myself a day to adjust to the persistent silence in the house, rather than rush to mask it. So far I've managed only to take a shower and heat up a frozen Healthy Choice. The rest of the day I've spent on the couch, watching Season 5 of The Office on my laptop and sulking.