Sucking Face

Sometimes I have to work. I write stuff for people. And when I do, I wish I had an office - one away from home - to do it in.

I know, I know, I'm sure "the grass is always greener" and all that. I remember that when I did work in an office, what I wanted most was to be home with my baby (at the time, only Colin). But it's super-difficult to feel professional when you're being constantly hounded by questions and requests, and have to say things like, "Keep your penis off the table!" and "Get that garbage can lid off your brother's head!" (Yes, those exact words actually came out of my mouth yesterday.) I shut myself into a bedroom to conduct phone interviews with clients, while hearing crashes, thumps, and wails beyond the closed door - despite my best efforts to threaten and/or bribe the boys to be good and stay quiet.

And all this time, there's still laundry. And dishes. And diapers. And clutter. Piling up and up and up while I try to prioritize.

All the above is especially difficult with the addition of a perpetually-hungry four month old baby. For a few select parts of the day, Coby is content to sit beside my desk in his little bouncy-seat, cooing and gurgling. However. When he decides he's hungry, he's hungry NOW ... and until he's fed, he lets you hear it in a very loud and persistent manner.

So anyway, yesterday I'm sitting here typing away - finally in a "groove" after seven hundred interruptions - and Coby decides to fuss. I try to keep typing while jiggling his seat with my foot, but it doesn't help. So I pick him up. As hard as it is to type properly with a baby in your lap, I'm thinking that the mere action of being held would be enough to keep him quiet.

But no.

So I shifted him to my shoulder, still wailing. And that's when he latched onto my cheek and started sucking away ... QUIETLY.

So yeah, I let him. I know how ridiculous I must have looked, but I sat there typing with my baby latched onto my face. Hey, it allowed me to finish a few paragraphs.

Eventually, he realized that nothing was gonna come out of that cheek, and stopped sucking. And to my surprise, when he pulled away, the spot on my cheek was a little sore. So I touched it ... and it was a little raised. WTF? So I went into the bathroom to look in the mirror, and lo and behold ...

An effing face hickey. A hickey ... on my face.

Luckily, the brightness subsided after a while and now I'm just left with a little pink patch. But still. I'm not into hickeys, least of all in places where people can see them.

Guess it's a good thing I rarely leave the house ...