BIOBaby: Baby Fever

I gave birth last year as did two of my cousins. They are both pregnant again. My friend Alegra is pregnant. My brother-in-law is expecting a baby with his wife any day now.

Me? Not so much.

But I must say that all these budding bellies are giving me baby fever! I don’t want it! I just got over this affliction and I was miserable the whole time I had it. So, why then am I suddenly having baby blues? Because it wasn’t ALL bad.

The excitement and expectations. The planning and preparation. Nothing is sexier than watching your husband prepare the nursery for his son. The joy and beauty of creating and bringing a life into this world. Nothing beats it.

Ugh. But I’m done. Done, I say! No more babies for me. When I found out my other cousin was pregnant I asked Donny…

“You don’t want to have another baby, do you?”

“Not yet.”

Please God, tell me he said, “Not yes.”

What I need to do is keep Donny away from my cousins because the last time those two heifers got pregnant, so did I! And as much as I like/miss the planning and joy, I had to pee in the shower this morning because I wouldn’t have time to bathe and go to the bathroom like a normal person while Jack slept. That ain’t right.

So please, give me all the reasons getting pregnant again would be wrong. Bad. Disastrous, even.

BIOBaby: Held Hostage

I’m not one of those Moms that never has a bad thing to say about motherhood because I think doing so somehow makes me a bad Mom. I’m all about keeping it real. And on the realness, some aspects of motherhood, like everything else in life, sucks.

So, allow me to vent a bit about an aspect of breastfeeding that is wearing on my already-frayed nerves. Oh, and before you all go getting your lactating panties in a bunch, I realize that this is probably a small problem and one of my own making. I take full responsibility, but I get to vent because it’s my website and that’s how I roll.

Laying down nursing and co-sleeping are a dream for a lazy ass like me, but there are times where I feel held hostage by the routine I’ve nurtured. Take the other morning for instance. Saturday morning I woke up bright and early, but could not leave the bed because Jack was still sleeping. I thought about having Donny come upstairs and stay with him so that I could maybe take a shower, have a cup of coffee, workout, etc., but then I heard the lawnmower start and knew that Donny was busy.

But even if he wasn’t, Donny wouldn’t have been able to offer up the boob like I could any time Jack stirred. That has become the routine. Jack sleeps through the night, but some nights he stirs and will pull at my nightshirt until I whip one out and let him suckle himself back to sleep. I cannot move until he’s done and being done isn’t always so easy to determine. Just cause he stops sucking, doesn’t mean he’s finished. If I go to remove it, he suddenly cups the boob with both hands and start sucking away like, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Usually, it’s a double-edged sword because I don’t want to lie there for an hour so being a human pacifier, but I also don’t want to do anything to wake him up because 1. he needs his sleep and 2. when he’s sleep and I finally pry myself away, I might be able to actually get shit done.

Last night we moved the pack-n-play right next to our bed and Donny lowered the mattress. We tried putting him in there, but he woke up both times and looked at us like, “Um, no. I belong up there with you two and don’t even think about tryna get busy because I don’t need any other siblings.”

Yes, Jack is a cockblocker.

He’ll be ten months old in two days and I planned on nursing for 18 months, but now I’m thinking, “hell to the naw!” Eight more months is a really long time. That’s a whole ‘nother pregnancy.

Also, I kinda want my boobs back. They’ve become family entertainment. Last night I was sitting on the couch wearing a nursing nightgown. Jack crawled up into my lap and started tugging at it. I pulled out a booby and instead of him laying my lap in the cradle position, he faced me and rested on his knees. Then, with the boob still in his mouth, he stood and plopped back down on his knees blowing air out of his mouth as he went. This resulted in a farting noise.

Donny and Kali laughed. Ever the ham, and realizing he was on to something, Jack continued to do it over and over again. They all laughed, including Jack. You ever see a baby laugh with a titty in his mouth? It’s pretty damn cute.

But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m wondering if one year might be my stopping point. I’m trying to gauge what feels right for both Jack and I. As I type this, he’s in my lap, sucking away and sleeping. It’s beautiful and makes me think that 8 months ain’t so long after all.

Now to the good stuff. Pictures and videos!

Jack ripped up my $20 game guide for Animal Crossing so I had to get another one. He’s now allowed to rip the old one to shreds if he desires. What does he do? Turns the pages like a civilized reader!

The below video is kinda dark, but I didn’t want to risk moving to turn on the light and then he’d stop “reading” the book.

“Reading” with better light

BIOBaby: Getting To Know You

I really thought I was going to have a son that was exactly like his father. I thought my baby boy would be quiet and shy. Like his father. I thought my baby boy would be easy to put to sleep. Like his father was. I thought wrong.

Jack is a handful. Jack is loud. Jack requires a lot of attention. Jack doesn’t like to go to sleep. Jack is bossy. Jack is determined. Jack likes to get his way. Jack is high maintenance. If I wanted the quiet and shy baby, I should have planned to give birth in early May so that he would be a Taurus like his father. Instead, Jack was born in early August and he is a Leo. And like all the traits mentioned above, that is just.like.his.Mama.

Jack has more than earned his nickname Jack Attack.

I suspect that even when Donny is on the receiving end of a Jack Attack he is quite pleased. See, I deal with it way more than he does because I’m a stay-at-home Mom and I’m sure Donny views all of this as some sort of karmic justice. This is my comeuppance for being a demanding bitch for the past 10 years. You truly reap what you sow.

I think back to the first few weeks he was home. Jack used to look at me when I wasn’t looking. When I turned to look at him, he’d quickly shut his eyes. I likened it to a boy having a crush on a girl and thought it was cute cause I was crushing on him too. Now, I think he was scoping me out. Sizing me up. He was assessing the most efficient way to kick my ass. And he found it.

Fugyosleep

When Jack gets sleepy, he fights it. I don’t know where he gets this from because I’m lazy and according to my mother-in-law, Donny would crawl into his playpen and just go to sleep on his own.

Jack thinks he’s going to miss something. If you want him to go to sleep with no fuss, you have to catch him the first moment he displays a sign of fatigue. Anything past that and it’s almost like he gets too tired. During the day he likes my Mom to pace with him and sing. She sings gospel songs. Jack tries to sing back and ends up falling asleep. At night, we lay down and I nurse him. Some nights he goes right to sleep, but most nights he fidgets. With my boob in his mouth.

He will start out on his side, eating and facing me. Then he’ll turn on his stomach and raise up on his knees with his butt in the air. All the while with my nipple still in his mouth. When he gets tired of that, he’ll spit the nipple out and crawl over to Donny where he will beat his father about the back mercilessly. Any attempt to snatch him up and force him to lie back down is met with giggles. And he’s fucking cute so we don’t even get, I mean stay, mad.

Fugyoremotecontrols

The backs to most of our remote controls have mysteriously disappeared. I don’t know what he does with them or where they are. All I know is that we have two remotes in our bedroom; one TiVo remote and one for the TV. The back to the TV remote is missing. They both take two AA batteries, but I have only three. All I know is that I spent last night swapping one battery back and forth between the two remotes.

While Jack slept peacefully and oblivious to the annoyance he had caused. And if he was aware, I think the sleeping peacefully part meant he didn’t give a shit.

His latest thing is sticking out his tongue. He started it one day last week. He advanced within a few days to spitting. I think he likes the sound it makes and the reaction he gets; we all duck for cover.

As soon as I find my camera I’ll post new pics and videos. Until then, here are two pics my sister took with her cell phone last week.

BIOBaby: The Well Visit

I hate taking my kids to the doctor. I always have. Besides the obvious fear that one day the doctor is going to tell you that there’s something really wrong with one of your children, I just find the whole experience one big collosal pain in the ass. Mainly, because I’m forced to be around other people and their children and I hate other people and their children. I really do.

When your baby is sick he’s already fussy and cranky. Now, I gotta deal with that around a bunch of other fussy and cranky children and to make matters worse, I run the risk of catching whatever your child has. I don’t mind catching my own baby’s sick, but I don’t want your kid’s cooties! I don’t even want to look at your kid. Stop letting your snot-nosed kid come up to me in the waiting room! I wouldn’t like your kid when he’s well, I damn sure don’t like him with goo coming out of his nose

The process sucks too. We all know that it’s all about the sign-in. Don’t matter what time your appointment was scheduled for, or what time you got there, or which doctor you’re going to see, it’s all about who signs in first. I will knock a pregnant woman holding a sick toddler down a flight of stairs to sign in first. For reals. And then I head to the “Well” side to wait for my kid’s name to be called. Even if he’s not “well.” Don’t look at me like that! Ear infections are not contagious! Why should he sit amongst the nasty? When he did have a cold, I just went to the private room and nursed him the whole time so we wouldn’t have to be in the waiting room. Don’t judge me!

Though, it’s not like being called first really means anything. We all know that you’re just being called first to wait for an additional 20 minutes in the examining room while the doctor does God knows what. Of all three parts – waiting, waiting some more, and seeing the doctor – the part that goes by the quickest is seeing the doctor. In fact, most parents know what the diagnosis and remedy is going to be before going. Ear infection? Children’s Tylenol and antibiotics. Cold? Saline drops, humidifier, suction, lots of breastmilk.

But we go anyway because most of us didn’t have the foresight to marry a pediatrician.

P.S. I think the “well” side of the waiting room should be separated using those heavy-duty plastic curtains like at the food warehouses.

BIOBaby: So Far, So Good and Other Short Stories

It’s been a little over 8 months and so far Jack has yet to pee in my face. Some of you are probably wondering why I’m keeping a running clock. Ever since I can remember I’ve been terrified of having a son for one reason; his penis. It kinda freaks me out. And that’s weird considering that most women have to become quite intimate with a penis in order to have a son. But adult penises are different. They can be beautiful. Baby penises look weird. They remind me of turtles.

I’m not a fan of all the ball lifting and skin movement involved in cleaning one either. But, as a mother I do what I gotta do no matter that I risk a pee shot to the face and no matter how funny the nuts look. Soon after Jack came home from the hospital I called my Dad…

“Jack’s balls look funny.”

“They’re probably not what you’re used to.”

And the pee thing doesn’t freak me out because it’s pee. Again, as a Mom I’ve dealt with worse. With both Kali and Jack I’ve had to suction out their clogged up, grody, booger noses… with my mouth. Hey! My babies couldn’t breathe and those suction balls were crap! Anyway, I’m a Mom so I’m not easily freaked out by poop, pee, vomit, and snot. What really scares me about taking some baby pee in the face is the lack of warning. It’s the, “Will today be the day” that is freaking me out!

It’s not like he’s gonna say something first like, “Look out, Mommy!,” or, “Duck!,” or “I’m R. Kelly, Mom!,” or, “Look, Ma. No hands!”

He’s just gonna piss in your face.

And possibly your eye.

Thank God We Don’t Have a Cat

Sunday night I had a dream that Jack and I were in this really raggedy house in Brooklyn. He was sleeping on a bed right by the front door in the foyer and I was looking around for… the keys, the Bogeyman… I felt imminent danger. I could see our car parked at the curb, and I just wanted to get out of this house. It was dark and scary. I went to the bottom of the stairs and peered up at the second floor. One of my sisters, Naiemah, was there feeding her son who was sitting in a high chair. He’s 8.

A black cat came bounding down the stairs. It jumped on my head and then on the bed with Jack. I grabbed Jack, but the cat kept trying to jump on him. I would bat the cat away, and he spring back hissing and clawing. I had the cat in my right hand, while holding Jack against my left hip. The cat was scratching and biting at me. I had this one thought, “Nina, you’re gonna have to put Jack down for one minute and use both hands to snap this cat’s neck,” and then I woke up.

I woke up in a fierce Mama Bear mood. I was ready to snap necks. If we had a cat, it would have been dead yesterday morning. Bella is so lucky.

Fetch!

Jack has had a low-grade fever off and on for the past two days. I think he’s cutting more teeth. Because of this, he’s pretty much getting anything he wants so long as he’s comfortable and happy. Last night he kept tossing a teething toy off the side of the couch. We’d kept it in the freezer for awhile hoping the cold would feel good against his gums. Well, once it warmed up, Jack didn’t want it. I wasn’t getting that message because I was too busy cooing at him, and every time he tossed it, I retrieved it.

“Do you know how much Mama loves you? Huh? I can’t wait for you to understand my words so I can tell you how much I love you and you’ll know.”

Donny, who has been holding Jack the whole time and watching our little game, says, “Oh, he knows how much you love him by the way he can get you to fetch that damn teething ring.”

“Shut up.”

I give it back to Jack who proceeds to hit it on the arm of the couch in increments of three and grunting, “Uh uh uh,” with each hit.

“Jack, don’t throw it okay? Listen to Mommy.”

“Uh, uh, uh.”

“Jack, dont’…”

He looks at me. He smiles. He throws it.

Donny says, “He just told you, ‘Fuck yo couch!’”

Nose Biter

Tried to get video of Jack’s nose-biting but he came a’running once he saw the camera…

I did get a still shot though…

Jack and Donny play on the floor a lot and that’s Jack’s latest “thing” – biting Daddy’s nose.

Another floor moment…

Finally, Jack waking up …

BIOBaby: Bad Backseat Driver

On the way home from the hospital after she was born, Kali screamed her head off. Then she never cried in the carseat again. Jack didn’t make a peep on his way home from the hospital, and was quite a good backseat driver for awhile… and then it all changed.

Now, if the car isn’t moving, Jack has a fit. It’s almost comical. Red light? Screams. Drive two blocks and he’s fine. Hit another red light? More screams. Last Friday night Donny and I took Jack with us to go birthday shopping for Kali. We stopped at Starbucks and Jack had a fit the whole time we waited for our venti Caramel Macchiato and White Chocolate Mocha.

Then, coming home from my parents’ house on Easter Sunday Jack lost.his.mind. Donny pulled over so I could climb in the backseat, strap myself in the middle seat, and then lean over to pop a boobie in his mouth. (Jack’s, not Donny’s.) He nursed for a bit, and then was calm and smiling again. I don’t think it was about him being hungry though. I don’t know. That may be a bad example to bring up. It was dark out and Jack’s not used to be out at night so maybe he just kinda freaked out being in the backseat in the dark. (Kali putting her GameBoy Advance in his face for light didn’t help the cause either.)

So, what do we do? We can’t not take him out. Should we purposely take him for rides to get him used to it?

Here are some pictures from Easter Sunday at my parent’s house:

BIOBaby: What Did This Titty Ever Do To You, Part 2

I’d previously written about Jack’s left nipple aversion here. Lately he’d been giving the right one the cold shoulder.

For two full days he refused to nurse from it. It started with the stink eye. He would give it a skeptical look before putting it in his mouth. Then, it escalated to him actually taking a few gulps before spitting it out and trying to crawl to the other side.

How rude!

I’m sure the milk tastes the same, (and he had no problem drinking milk from that boob pumped into a bottle while I was in school) so I started doing titty inspections. Was there something going on with the right one? That’s when I  figured it out. A random hair was out of control on the bottom right perimeter of the areola. Lovely.

So, that’s why he was suddenly treating my boob like the grody fountain drink you return in a restaurant!

“This Coke tastes funny. Can I have a Sprite or maybe a sweet tea?”

Unfortunately for Jack, his only two flavors are left and right.

BIOBaby: 8 Month Update

Jack will be 8 months old this week. It’s funny that we can chart differences in his behavior and appearance, literally, overnight. Today he started making this funny face whenever he got impatient. He’d never done it before, but he did it several times today. My Mom and I were like, “Where did that come from?!”

A New Word, Kinda.

So, he’s already been saying, “Hey!,” since he was 5 months old. Over the past few weeks we’ve noticed him adding a new word to his lexicon. Uh. That’s right. Uh.

He says it to get your attention, and even funnier, he says it to get the TV’s attention. If I go from live TV to the TiVo menu, it gets quiet. Jack will look up at the TV and go, “Uh.” If he wants Kali to look at him, he’ll go, “Uh,” until she does. It’s very funny and kinda caveman-like.

Two Teeth, But Eating Like a Grown-Up

Thanks to my Mom being here, it’s been very easy to get Jack on an eating schedule. On the weekends I’ll make his apples, sweet potatoes, and carrots. After they’re pureed, I’ll freeze them in ice cube trays and then store the frozen cubes in Ruberrmaid containers in the freezer. By the time Jack and I come downstairs for the day – usually around 10am – my Mom will have two cubes of apples thawing to room temperature. She’ll mix it with baby cereal and Jack loves it! He also likes mashed up bananas.

This week I’m gonna try pears and another veggie… just haven’t decided which yet.

Thanks to my Mom, Jack also eats things he’s not supposed to. I’ve caught him eating a chocolate chip cookie (sucking on it, really), and the noodles from her chicken noodle soup.

“He’s gonna choke!”

“He’s fine! Did I ever let you choke?”

“How the hell should I know? God knows how many near-misses I had!”

Then again, I’m guilty of letting him have some cranberry juice. Just tiny tastes as I’m trying to get him to drink from a straw. I’ll put my finger on one end of the straw and let the juice kinda dribble in his mouth.

“Running” The Show

I suspect he’ll walk before he’s one. He already pulls himself up and walks along the furniture. He’s fearless. He doesn’t understand that he can’t already walk and run. He also doesn’t understand gravity. He will jump out of my arms in a second if I’m not careful. We’re gonna go to Stride Rite this week for some hard-bottomed shoes so he can practice keeping his balance.

Dirty Boy

He used to love taking a bath and then it seemed that as soon as my mother got here, he started playing me. He would scream bloody murder. It was kinda embarrassing. Like I didn’t bathe my kid or something. Now, my mom gives him a bath every night between 8pm-9pm and he cries less and less each time. In fact, last night he fussed for about 30 seconds before accepting his fate and splashing water.

Now, we just need to break him of a new bad habit: rolling around when you’re trying to change his diaper. I’m thisclose to getting peed on. I know it.

Video #1 – Jack takes out his baby aggression on my notebook.

Video #2 – He ignores me for the USB cord.

Video #3 – His latest thing seems to be pretending to ride a horse while holding the mat. I have to get video where he’s really going at it next time.

Video #4 – Jack owns the family room. Everyday I put down a blanket for me to crawl on, and all of his toys. We just leave it like that all day. If I tried cleaning up after him throughout the day I’d never get anything done. It’s easier to just let him have the run of the room and clean up once at the end of the night. Then it repeats the next day.

BIOBaby: Co-Sleeping

My idea of heaven is being cuddled up in bed with my husband and two babies; a big, plush comforter, plenty of pillows, and lots of love. I could sleep this way every night. Donny? Not so much.

Jack slept with us from the time he came home. After a few weeks, I started putting him in the Pack n’ Play next to the bed during naps, then at night. For the first few months, Jack was a dream to put to sleep. Either he’d fall asleep while nursing or he’d want you to lay him down and he’d fall asleep on his own. We were so lucky, we thought.

Then he decided that he wanted to be held, paced, and rocked to sleep… by Donny. I warned Donny; do not start a habit you’re not willing to live with. I remember there were three occasions where Jack cried himself to sleep. He was overtired and extra fussy. Nothing I did worked. So, I put him in the Pack n’ Play and he cried for about three minutes. Then he fell asleep. A day or so later, he cried for about a minute. The final time, 30 seconds. He learned to take his little butt to sleep.

I was consistent and didn’t back down. I knew his tears were from exhaustion, not hunger or pain. He learned that the world wasn’t going to end by just falling asleep. He also learned that I wasn’t going to jump through hoops just because he was cranky.

He weaned himself from the pacifier at about 4 months old. Looking back, I don’t think he ever liked/needed it, but rather tolerated it ’cause it seemed to make us happy to give it to him! He first stop accepting it during the day, only using it when he’d wake up in the middle of the night kinda fussy. I’d give it to him and he’d immediately go back to sleep. Then he stopped accepting it even then and he’d want to nurse.

That’s where we are now. He pretty much sleeps through the night with the occasional fussiness soothed by nursing. It’s easier to have him in bed with us because of this. Rolling over and popping a booby in his mouth beats getting out of bed any day.

One man’s convenience is another man’s backache. Donny is about ready for Jack to sleep in his very expensive, yet rarely-used crib. Jack squirms and kicks, and it seems this only affects Donny. Either Jack has seen fit to only take out his nighttime aggressions on Daddy, or Mommy can sleep through anything because it doesn’t bother me. Sure, I’ve woken up once or twice with my butt hanging off the edge of the bed, and yes, there have been times that both Donny and I have found ourselves clutching the edge of our respective sides, dangerously close to hitting the floor. All the while Jack lies horizontally across the bed sleeping like an angel. But it’s worth it to me for that feeling of comfort and security that comes with having my baby in bed with us.

If I could get Kali in the mix – perhaps she could lie across our feet? – I’d try, but Donny wouldn’t have it. I just know it. Maybe if I convince him to buy a king-sized bed?

I’m not sure why some people frown on co-sleeping. Kali didn’t always sleep with us, but she did on occasion. I don’t remember it being a big deal getting her to stop. Then again, I wasn’t the one carrying her big butt back to her bed when she finally fell asleep; Donny was. It just occurred to me that I should have co-blogged this with Donny because I have a feeling he wouldn’t see things quite the same way.

Didn’t they all sleep together on Little House on the Prairie? I’m down with that? Can we bring back the family bed/room? Cause I think that would be awesome.

Do/did you co-sleep with your children? Until what age? What techniques did you use to get the co-sleeping to stop? Anyone want a like-new, rarely-used crib? I kid, I kid.

BIOBaby: Breastfeeding Part 2

Ah, so many things. I very rarely do this, but I thought I should post a follow-up to yesterday’s blog and address a few things. It’s going to take me a moment to respond to each of the comments like I want to, and there are some broad things I wanted to point out.

Most of you have been reading my blogs for over three years now. So, you’ve heard this before. I treat my blog like my living room. I speak here the way I speak to family and friends who come to my home. Those of you who have become “real life” friends from my blog, and been to my home, can attest to that. You are encouraged to speak your mind and engage in vigorous debate. I don’t delete comments of those that disagree with me, but I will delete comments that disrespect me. You can tell me I’m wrong, but you’re not gonna call me a stupid bitch while doing so. I wouldn’t tolerate that in my home, and I don’t tolerate it here. This also means that I defend your right not to be disrespected. Anyone who can’t make their point without being offensive will be deleted. Period.

After reading through most, but not all, of the comments on the breastfeeding in public blog, I wanted to say a few things…

1. Someone brought up a great point in that the act of breastfeeding should not be covered up. I want to be clear that wasn’t what I meant. You shouldn’t have to negotiate your child in such a way to hide what you’re doing because there is some stigma or shame to breastfeeding. I didn’t mean, and I don’t think some of the people responding, meant that you should breastfeed in such a way that no one can tell what you’re doing because breastfeeding is bad.

2. It seems to me that both sides had good points, but there are always going to be some who feel like their rights and opinions surpass the rights of others. So where do I stand? I see both sides. And I’m sorry if this doesn’t sit well with my fellow breastfeeding Moms. You have the right to breastfeed in public any way you want; completely covered with your child in a veritable sweat box, bare as you please with your breast exposed at all stages of the feeding process, or discretely behind a blanket/sling/shirt, etc. But you cannot deny someone the right to be uncomfortable, offended, and even grossed out.

I don’t think it’s gross, but I understand that not everyone shares my feelings. When we walk around thinking that everyone should feel the way we do, and then ridicule them when they don’t, we’ll all have problems.

I choose to “cover-up” when I nurse in public for several reasons:

1. I don’t want anyone looking at my breasts. Sorry. Call it what you want. People remarked, “If we lived in Europe…” Guess what? This ain’t Europe. I cover my breasts for the same reason I don’t put pictures of my daughter on the internet anymore. I cover my breasts for the same reason I don’t shove a full banana in my mouth, but rather break it into pieces when eating one in public. I cover my breasts for the same reason I bend at the knees and not the waist when picking something up in public. Why? People can be perverted. People have been known to take the most innocent of actions and get their rocks off from them. That’s why they’re called perverts.

2. I tend to wear shirts that open at the top. Even when I’m home and expecting family over. Why? Because I still have pregnancy tummy due to laziness at working out and I don’t want anyone looking at my baby fat. So, when we have family movie night, or a birthday party (as we’ve had several since Jack’s birth 7 months ago) at our house, I will nurse around family (too much of a social butterfly to leave the room and miss anything!), but I do so in a way that keeps my breasts covered.

Just as if we were in a restaurant, Donny will most likely hold a baby blanket up so that I can get my breast out and Jack latched on. Then I nurse with Jack covered. He is now at a stage where he will try to remove the blanket and unlatch to look around when he hears something interesting. I prepare for that by having myself in such a position, and around people, so that if it happens and my nipple is exposed, it’s not a big deal.

I’ve been at my parent’s house and in their kitchen when that has happened in front of my Dad. It’s not a big deal because even though I don’t go showing my Dad my nipples normally, we both realize that I’m feeding his grandchild and these things happen. Now, when I’m in the same situation with my cousin’s husband at the table, or my sister’s boyfriend, I will either nurse with my back to them so there’s no sudden nipple exposure, or I will leave the room.

This doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with breastfeeding or even my nipples. It just means that maybe I don’t feel like showing my nipple to my cousin’s husband, and maybe he don’t feel like seeing it.

3. As for children, for all the people who commented that breastfeeding provides a perfect learning opportunity, I agree. But it’s not your place to decide when others educate their children. I personally would handle my child asking about a nearby woman nursing as such, “She’s feeding her baby. Don’t stare because it’s not polite.” And if they had further questions, I’d address them at home. But again, everyone doesn’t think like me and you have to remember that not everyone thinks like you. And that doesn’t make them wrong.

Maybe little Billy just wants to eat his chicken fingers, and maybe his Momma just wants to let him enjoy his chicken fingers without having to get into discussions over your breasts and what they do and why they do it.

4. I am not nursing my son in a public bathroom.

5. I am not going to “wait till I get home” to nurse my son if he’s hungry. No, he won’t starve, but being hungry is no fun either. And anyone that suggests to me that I wait until I get home to feed him would most likely get their feelings hurt.

6. Comparisons to pooping and peeing are dumb. Stop making them.

Finally, everyone should be a little more tolerant. Period. Breastfeeding moms, we haven’t cornered the market on what’s right, what’s beautiful, and what’s acceptable. I think it’s very sad that some women have this “all or nothing” attitude about it. As a breastfeeding Mom I support your right to nurse wherever and however you want, but don’t make me feel like I’m betraying some sisterhood because I choose to practice some form of covering up when I do.

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