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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Belly Up To The Milk Bar

Sometimes, when he cries and his diaper isn’t messy and nothing obvious seems to be wrong I’ll whip out the old boob and he bellies up to the milk bar and gets his drink on. I’m starting to feel like a bartender on call 24/7, which, I guess that’s pretty much the definition of breastfeeding but I’m becoming increasingly concerned I’m ruining his “meal” with my “snacks”. Like a real bartender, do I need to cut the little guy off?
Can you breastfeed too much? It's what I'm babbling about today.