Carter started daycare last week, and I've now learned that my child is officially high maintenance. Not only has he spent a good portion of each Monday screaming due to some surprising separation anxiety, but evidently he forces the daycare owner to sit in front of him and look straight at him, or he’ll start to fuss. Sure enough, when I arrive daily at lunchtime to nurse him, there she is, sitting in front of him. He demands constant entertainment, and likes to spend most of his day squealing. "Hey, Little Armenian Lady! Smile at me!" Or perhaps he's flirting with his girlfriends, Gia and Finley - both older women at 8 months and 5 months, respectively. The three of them like to have raging tummy time parties together.

Add to that his cloth diapers, which today had leaked (which they never do) because one of the women had put them on wrong, so I had to be a pain in the ass and show her how to do it properly, which, no matter how nicely I say it, always sounds assholish.

THEN add to that the fact that he would not nurse today, or at least wouldn’t nurse for more than 20 seconds at a time. Thus, I had to come back to the office and immediately pump…again.

My little boy is proving to be a class clown and attention hog…much like both of his parents. I am simultaneously proud and horrified.