Today R and I arrived home after a nice lunch date with my friend Kr and her lovely baby daughter and husband to find a strange package on my doorstep. The last couple days have been rife with gifts! First my work threw a surprise shower for me and gave me all kinds of amazing baby gifts, primarily much needed clothing for an older baby. Then I came home to find a package from one of my oldest and best friends who lives in Chicago. A is a fashion designer and sent two of the cutest baby frocks I have ever seen, including a dress/onesie for the summer that I almost cried over. Then today Kr gave me the exact diaper bag I bought last week so I was able to return the old one. All in all, it has been a good couple days. So the mysterious Saturday package seemed like one more exciting piece to add to the collection. And then I saw the return address. Similac. The formula company.
I have avoided buying formula. Our breastfeeding coach told us if we have formula in the house, we may be tempted to use it when my breasts are sore and I don't want to feed the baby from them. Once the kid is hooked, that's it. You are a formula mama. Now I have no idea if this is true. We are talking about powdered vitamin milk in a bottle, not heavy narcotics. Still, I was not taking any chances. So I avoided the formula aisle and hoped that my breasts are able to function as they should. But then, like a crack dealer pushing samples to school kids, the formula came to me. It's like an after school special where the kid in rehab says, "I didn't want to smoke it, but it was there and it was free so maybe I'd hit the pipe, just that one time..." The next day--BAM!--just like the DARE officers promised us all in third grade, he's hooked and stealing money from his mom's purse to get a fix. That kid could totally be my daughter.
I considered the trash. But why would I throw out perfectly good formula? I know its street value. Turns out white powder is pretty expensive in any form. So why would I throw out a perfectly good stash? Maybe one night I will not be able to feed my baby and she will be starved. Maybe I will have to resort to the powder. Then I will be glad they sent it along with the oh-so-alluring promotional materials promising happy babies who sleep through the night.
Now the two very large containers of blow are housed in our pantry next to innocuous jars of pasta sauce and cans of black beans. They mock me with their adorable little bear. Don't you want to give your baby just a little taste? I hope I know better. Just one toke and she could be hooked for life. Then its just a hop skip and jump into digging at the bottom of her mom's purse for one more hit of the Simil-Crack.