The Man Said Boobie.

     I generally never breastfeed in public--not so much because of my discomfort but because I really don't like making other people uncomfortable.  Just as I don't want a stranger teaching my kids about sex education, I don't want to teach someone else's kid about breastfeeding and body parts.  Since Rose is a very particular eater, I literally have to bare my breast and walk with her splayed sideways across my body, her chubby little legs sticking across my hip and her belly pressed to mine.  It's not conducive for discreet feeding, in any way, shape or form, and her tendency to pop off mid-feed and send a nipple flying leaves very little to the imagination.  So I pretty much stay home, or I bring a bottle along, or I ask the person whose house I am in if I can use another room to breastfeed.  It has worked out fairly well in Rose's five months, and I've only had to give her a soy bottle on very rare occasions.

     My mother's house is like an oasis in the desert of breastfeeding-suitable venues.  She has a long hallway, so if I'm trying to be discreet enough to not embarrass my brothers I can use the hall to walk back and forth in relative privacy. On my brother's birthday, I was just worn out enough from the emotional turmoil of missing him that I sat down in the empty dining room to feed Rose.  I put a small receiving blanket over my breast and part of Rose's head, and by some great miracle she didn't throw it off in annoyance (as she usually does.)  I was feeding her pleasantly, chatting with Coffeeguy (who had come in to keep me company), when my eldest brother's step-granddaughter toddled into the room. We'll call her Little Pip, and she's a cutie, about 2 or 3 years old, with giant brown eyes and curly hair.  

     Little Pip noticed the legs sticking out of the blanket, and conversation ensued...it went something like this:

LP:  Where's the baby?

Me:  Right here.  

LP:....I want to hold her.

Me:  She's eating right now.

LP: (Looking at the blanket, brow furrowed.). I wanna feed her.

Me:  Uh, you can't feed her, because, uh, there's no bottle.

LP:  (Furrowed brow remains, she looks around the table.) I don't see her bottle.

Me:  I know, honey, there isn't a bottle.

LP:  Well I want to feed her.  Can I feed her?

Me:  Um, you can't feed her honey, because there's no bottle.

LP:  (Looking slightly annoyed) What she's eating?

Me:  ....Milk...

LP:  There's no bottle.  Where's the milk?

Me: (to Coffeeguy) Help?

Coffeeguy:  There's no bottle because the milk is in the boobie.

LP:  (long stare)....Ok.

She toddles away.  Coffeeguy waits a beat, then light dawns.

Coffeeguy:  She's going to tell someone "the man said boobie to me", isn't she?

Me:  Yup.

Coffeeguy.  "The man said boobie to me, and the lady showed me."

Me:  Yup.

I think I'll stick to breastfeeding at home again.