I just want sympathy. And a mud cake.

Nipple War Wound still incredibly sore, despite attempts to manage it. All whilst attempting to avoid another bout of mastitis. And starving a small child (or worse! having to feed him more often than I already am!)

A side effect of the management is that the left side is slightly overused, and is taking on that cheese-grater-ravaged look and feel again.

My new slippers aren’t even helping.

And I’m hungry. Nay … starving!

I’m beginning to sound like one of my children … “I’m starving! When can we eat? Can we get something to eat here? How come? But I’m starving. I want something to eat NOW!”

I’m putting the Fairy Godmother on Shrek 2 to shame. Not in the ‘attempting to break up a marriage so my son can marry a princess’ vindictive sort of way.

More a “Someone get me something deep fried and smothered in chocolate” whiney kind of way.

Bloody family couldn’t even whip me up a mud cake for my birthday, stick a candle on it and sing badly to me.

I did contemplate making one myself – but why should I have to. Besides, I started and couldn’t wait the required cooking time, so I just ate the mix. Ok, I did eat some of it before it was mixed.

But I was starving!

I couldn’t wait for the ingredients to be combined. I think I even ate a candle …

(Luckily we’re out for dinner with extended family tonight. Not expecting a cake, but at least I’ll be able to eat 3 courses. Might even take my mind of my nipples!)

2 Replies to “I just want sympathy. And a mud cake.”

  1. Ah, if only it were as painless as having broken glass ground into my breasts!

    Luxury!

    (Is getting better though. Much better! Despite continued lack of mud cake!!!)

Leave a Reply