It’s about 75 Fahrenheit in my room over the garage. So why in June’s name am I wearing my big, fluffy robe?

It’s not to make me more comfy as a pillow for anyone (husband and kids are away tonight). It’s to help me reach my new “set point” as my body tries to fight off a lovely infection called mastitis. I finished with the chills, so I think I reached it, but I keep the robe on so I don’t get chills again.

Tonight I wish this blog were called the “well-breasted mother.” They’ll be well again soon, but they can sure cause trouble.

If you’re concerned because I’m not resting right now, don’t worry, it’s milking time anyway.

If there’s a chance you’ll be delirious with fever soon, don’t listen to the song I hyperlinked. It’s already weird, but if you start at 1:30, you’ll understand the connection before getting brainwashed by the repetitive lyrics. Next time you hear this song, you just might inexplicably begin meowing like a cat.

I am grateful for a lot of things right now: kids at my parents and husband with my baby (so no one is asking for a pillow). Plus, I have all the materials I need for attempting to clear this up without antibiotics while I await the opening of the doctor’s office. I’m also glad that I’ve had it  before so I know I will most likely not die.

But if I do, can you believe these were my last words? That amazing late 90’s song will forever remind you of me. I just hope you have a pillow to rest your head on in those moments when you contemplate what an amazingly well-rested mother I was.