Envy

Freud wrote about penis envy, but he ignored lactating breast envy, which I happen to suffer from. As a non-lactating man, I find that a large percentage of my existence involves overcompensating. I'm considering purchasing a large pair of sunglasses, for instance, just because of the shape.

Today Lyla demanded milk every two hours, as opposed to her normal three. We think it's a growth spurt; by Christmas she won't even be able to fit in her stocking. So I got home, and Julie hadn't even had time to shower. What do I do to compete with that? The answer is whatever Julie tells me to do.

Normally I'm rather petulant when I'm asked to do a chore. With lawn mowing, for example, I feel that since I am the lone mower, then I get to dictate when the mowing occurs. Demand a mow, and I might wait a week longer out of principle. Immature principle, but principle nonetheless.

But add breastfeeding to the mix, and I find myself honoring requests ten times as unreasonable as "Mow the lawn today." Take this evening, when Julie declared that she hated the location of our Christmas tree. Sucker that I am, I moved the entire tree across the livingroom, decorations and all. Tomorrow if she recants her previous objection, I'll move the thing back, all because I can't breastfeed.