Sunday, 3 November 2013

Day Three

Walking past park bench and see lovely woman nursing her baby.

(Amy it's November. No one is sitting outside on a park bench nursing.

OK you have me. Either this is an old story or I am trying to disguise someone's identity.)

Strike up a conversation with Complete Stranger.

I tell her I like the way she just whipped out her boob and threw her baby on it.  When I see women building intricate teepees and yurts out of receiving blankets I find it so much less discreet.  All those flailing arms and waving fabric remind me of a Cirque de Soleil show.

OH I agree completely says Stranger.

In fact, she says, the other day I was at a baby seminar and I looked around the room.  All I saw were women with these giant shower curtains trying to cover up their nursing newborns.  And some of the curtains had Winne the Pooh on them.

I gasp.  That's the worst.

But you know what? That wasn't the worst.

Guess what these shower curtain nursing wigwams are called?


Put your hooters away, ladies.  We will let you know when we need them.

And by the way, if you can't nurse in a room full of other nursing women, where the h can you nurse?

If you are all about the bottle I support you completely.  And if you are all about the boob you also have my undying support.  If you adopted your kid long after bottles and breastfeeding, you too have my complete commitment.

But if you are all about covering up your choice - well, you should know that you are attracting way more attention to yourself by draping pastel cartoon characters off your nether regions than you would if you just stuck your kid under your t-shirt.

Then again, who am I to judge.

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