Do I even exist anymore?

Or have I been reduced to nothing more than a set of boobs. Sometimes I wonder. I don't seem to do anything other than nurse a toddler all day. Special days come and go without a card or a gift. For example, the 4 year anniversary of quitting smoking, my 9 year wedding anniversary, my 31st birthday. Hell, at this point I'd settle for an e-card. Something.