Rowan Jetté Knox

View Original

Falling Off the Over-The-Counter Wagon


Ladies and gentlemen, my humblest of apologies.

The earth opened up and swallowed me whole last week and I only had my smartphone on me. Have you ever tried to write a blog post on a touch screen? Only if you're a desperate blogging loser. And The Maven, while many things, is not one of those.

Ok, fine. So I am one of those, but I'm far too lazy to type on a touch screen. Especially when I'm busy being popular, doing home renos and entertaining the mischeivious trio. Thus, no blog post. Better?

I'm still running, and my foot injury has completely left the building. I suppose if it hadn't I might feel badly about nearly having to sell a kidney for my running shoes. Who needs two kidneys anyway? What a huge waste of body real estate. With it gone, I could fill that cavity with nuts for the winter or some dirty magazines. I could also keep food warm until guests arrive without using the oven. Having all your organs is so overrated.

Other than that, I've been managing a freak show. Namely: The Maven and the Incredible Shrinking Boobies. Come one, come all! See how quickly milk-filled breasts can shrivel up into walnuts!

Do bras cry? I think mine are. They can't find their fleshy friends who are now floating freely inside a couple of air pockets. These bras used to be a perfect fit. And they're cute! Where's the justice in this?

But there's good news to be had about weaning: I've been experimenting with drugs.

Yes sirree. Now that my body is mine again for the first time in over seven years, I've decided to start taking drugs to deal with my problems. For example, last night I took an antihistamine to deal with an allergic reaction. As a general rule, antihistamines are contraindicated for breastfeeding mothers. Meaning they might not want to take them. Why? For no other reason than they have some theoretical potential to reduce milk supply. It's not even a proven link as far as I know and is based only on anecdotal reports. Still, I had exactly one half of a pill in the entire seven year period I was making milk and/or growing gremlins.

My mom gave me the drugs the other day. She handed me these hot pink pills (my favourite colour - that's how they get you roped in) and said 'Try a couple of these and see if they help'. Typical pusher behaviour, isn't it? Disgusting. And I was about to tell her I couldn't because I'm high on life, but figured that sounded lame. Without my usual breastfeeding excuse I took the pills and walked back to my van with a little skip in my step.

They could make a Dateline episode about people like me: Strung Out Minivan Moms or something like that.

You'll have to forgive me. My body has been a hatchery and feeding station for a very long time. I'm still in utter (or is that 'udder'?) disbelief that I can abuse myself again without fear of it impacting another life. It entices moments of panic intertwined with complete elation. What an exciting time to be me!

... Then again, are there any times when it's not exciting to be me?

Last night I opened up the package and placed a pretty pink pill in my mouth. This is it, I thought to myself. There's no going back now, Maven. You're officially a bad girl again.

I proudly strutted into my room and declared to Geekster 'Honey, I just took drugs.'

He looked up from his Harry Potter book. 'Uh, what?'

'Drugs. I took drugs. An antihistamine pill.'

'Okay...'

I went on. 'Yep. I real antihistamine. Not one of those crunchy granola ones with buckwheat extract or whatever that never saw the inside of a lab. An honest to goodness, clog-your-liver-with-toxins antihistamine.'

'Great. I hope you feel better!' Thinking the conversation was over, he went back to his book.

'Yep. This puppy is the real deal,' I bragged as I sat down on the bed. 'Causes drowsiness and everything. So I might not hear Spawn if he wakes up before seven. I might, like, keep sleeping. Like a stoned person? Like one of those people who takes sleep aids or something.'

'Uh-huh. Okay, that's fine.' He glanced back at the page he was reading.

'So, yeah. You'll have to wake up and get him, and get his drink and stuff. You know, if I don't hear him because I'm, like, on drugs.'

I saw the slightest you-are-such-an-idiot look cross his face, but it was gone in a flash. 'Alrighty, no problem. Um, can I read my book now?'

'Sure thing. I'm going to try to read, but I'll probably get too drowsy. You know, because of the drug I just took?'

'Goodnight, Maven.'

Spawnling awoke just after seven and I heard him. But I did have some really funky dreams last night. You know, because of the antihistamine.

I'm so incredibly badass.