I think the pumping Gods are trying to tell me something

*Knock on wood*, I've been lucky so far to have never had a major pumping catastrophe: I've never spilled a bottle of milk, I have yet to have to throw away a frozen baggie and I've never forgotten any of my pump parts on my way to or home from work.

Until this past week.

First, I forgot my bottles one morning. Of course it was the one morning I succeeded in getting out of the house 15 minutes early, so I ate those 15 minutes back-tracking home after I realized the bottles were still in the dish drainer.

Then I left my freshly pumped milk at work one evening this week, so we had to use frozen milk for an entire day's supply. (I like to mix up the frozen and the fresh, so he's always getting at least half of the fresh stuff that I read has transformed to the make-up he needs at this age.)

And finally, Wednesday. Wednesday I didn't forget any pump parts or leave the milk at work. No, something else completely unexpected happened Wednesday. After my morning pumping session, I uncapped my horns and gathered my bottles to take to the office fridge. And upon opening my office door, the friggin door knob FELL. OFF. THE. DOOR.

I skipped my middle pump session out of fear of being locked in my office. But admin services had yet to fix the door by 4:15 p.m., so I decided to give it a try, pleading with my boss to come rescue me if I didn't emerge by 4:45.

Turns out I can jimmy-rig the apparatus to close securely, then let myself out all without the broken-off knob. But if this week isn't a sign from the pumping gods that it's about time to slow down, I don't know what is.

One more week of three pumps a day, then I'm dropping to two.

Oh, and I found this satire from The Onion hilarious, so here you go.