I've developed an imbalance this week. A personal imbalance that's becoming more and more noticeable. Ever since I spent the weekend with my breast pump, and left baby at home, I've noticed something strange. While both sides of my udders are in perfect working order, one side seems to change with the natural ebb and flow of lactation while the other side remains stubbornly full. Basically, if you approached me from my left side, you'd be met by the profile of what remains of my deflated boob. I lovingly refer to it as The Flapjack. It seems clear that this lone breast has accepted its latest role as a mere supplement to Ana's three meals, snacks and sippy cups. No harm, no foul. It's still in the game but not as a starter anymore. But breast number two is not goin' down without a fight. Picture this: approaching me from my right side you'd meet "Pamela", as in, Pamela Lee Anderson. Get the idea? This little leche is large, in charge, and standing at attention despite a drop in demand. What's a girl to do? It's spring, and tank tops are a main staple in my daily wardrobe. And the solution to this problem is truly a vicious circle. If I pump the right one to relieve the pressure, it only comes back a little fuller a few hours later. If I pump the left one to stimulate more milk production, it just responds by deflating that much more upon reaching Empty. Tonight, John's company had a casual BBQ and I threw on a great little cotton tank with a pair of white linen trousers and wedges. Knowing my problem was unavoidable in this top, I dug through my drawers for a little padding to help The Flapjack keep up with her counterpart. "There ya go, a little sock support for the evening, Flappy." This worked fine until I had to feed the baby halfway through dinner. I didn't notice the sock had rolled out of my shirt and under the coffee table until one of John's clients picked it up and set it on the table. Should I grab it now or when everyone's looking? Uh, do I have to explain this? Curse you, Pamela Lee.