My boobs are the center of the universe

At least, that's the way it feels around here lately.
I'm breastfeeding the newborn son, which I am pretty happy about since I was totally unable to make it work with my firstborn. However, noone told me that the whole world would revolve around my breasts if I breastfed my baby.
They told me it was better for the baby, that he would get needed immunities and tailor-made nutrition. They said it was better for me, that I would lose weight more easily and recover from childbirth more quickly - both of which I am happy about.
But noone told me my boobs would become the center of the universe.

Everything that happens in this house is contingent upon what my breasts are doing. If they are idle, things occur. If they are busy, things do not occur.
When is dinner? - the people ask. Ask the baby, and he will ask the breasts.
When can we go to sleep? - the husband wonders. Again, the baby will consult the breasts.
When should we wake up? - The breasts will let us know.

The baby has clandestine meetings with the breasts one at a time at regular intervals, usually every 2-4 hours. These meetings are most often conducted under the cover of a blanket, usually a blue one though sometimes yellow.
These meetings last anywhere from five minutes to an hour depending on, I assume, the agendas that have been developed by the baby for the meetings.
When these meetings are skipped or delayed, the breasts become very angry. They swell up with what seems to be bags of river rock and become tender.
The baby, sensing the breasts discomfort, will then give me a signal to soothe the angry breasts, which I do with warm towels and gentle massage (it's not unlike a booby spa day). Usually this signal comes in the form of a warm spreading puddle making its way down my shirt though it sometimes is just a moderate tingling sensation, as if the breasts' antennas are picking up a classic rock station.
The baby will then conduct his meeting with the breasts and they will work out their differences. The breasts are almost always subdued after these meetings, as is the baby.

This morning, the baby was insistent upon having many many meetings with the breasts. These meetings were very short, but very close together. The breasts were on-call so to speak and as such spent most of the time between the hours of 7 am and 10 pm in meetings with the baby.
However, these meetings did not result in resolution of issues between baby and breast and the right breast is now becoming very very angry while the baby is sleeping in his bassinette - no doubt readying himself for another meeting.

Because the breasts were held up in so many meetings today, I too had to multitask this morning.
During the baby-breast meetings I made and consumed coffee and a bagel, I mixed and baked banana muffins, I readied the ingredients to make spaghetti sauce, though I cannot use a knife while the breasts are in a meeting so that had to wait, I straightened up the house and did a load of laundry all while the breasts were otherwise occupied. I also washed some dishes and started the dishwasher.
During the intermissions, I changed and dressed my toddler, used the bathroom twice and wrote this post.
Though the baby is now sleeping, I can feel that the breasts are attempting to contact him to schedule another meeting. While I hate to do it, I will probably have to rouse him just to make sure that this meeting happens so I don't die of engorgement - which I don't think can actually kill you, but really feels like it could.

Add to this mix of meetings and tinglings and puddles the constant smearing of lanolin cream over the breasts and the near constant changing of breast pads to keep leaks off my clothes and it's quite a day of dealing with the breasts, breast issues, breast meetings and breast anger.
Ah, breasts.