Today I asked Joseph what babies eat. He said, "Baby food and milk." I asked him where the milk comes from and he blushed and gestured to his chest. "You know. Mommies."
BREASTS, honey. They are called BREASTS. Your mother has them. Your grandmothers have them and so do your aunts. They feed babies. That's their whole purpose. Please don't be embaressed because I will have to say it in front of your more. BREASTfeeding.
Today Camille informed that Cole can only eat Mommy milk and that's sad because he can't have mac and cheese. Juding by the look on Cole's face, the little bugger wanted her mac and cheese too.
I asked a friend if she wanted an update to my scandelous behavior. "What did you do?" she asked in mock horror.
"Nursing in church!"
She gasped. "Did a statue of Mary fall on you?"
"Yup! The breastfeeding one!"
Another friend called me long distance and said, jokingly, "You're not doing THAT right now, are you?"
"No, but I'm naked!" I replied. (I wasn't. Really. Well, only under my clothes.)
I spoke to a former DRE that I once taught under and she said I nurse discreetly even without a cover. Little things like that make me smile.
Adam made grilled pizza for dinner. I am sure that increases your milk supply. Yup. Totally.
It is important for children to view breastfeeding in public. Perhaps if more people saw nursing mothers and it was just a part of life, like changing a diaper or rocking a baby or pushing a stroller, problems like the one I am having would not happen.