Trophy Tuesday: That Bitch Is Totally Wrong

So I'm way behind on this story, mainly because I no longer have babies and never watch vloggers, but . . .

I need to talk about the woman who said she breastfed while having sex. 

The story appeared in my Facebook feed and I just. . . .

I mean. . . .

What the actual HELL?

Look, I breastfed all of my kids. 

Ironflower weaned herself at 11 months. She also had formula on many occasions because some days she wanted a damn bottle. If you know Ironflower, this makes perfect sense. The boys were a different story. 

Lovebug and Hugmonkey nursed exclusively and compulsively for the first 6 months of their lives. I nursed those boys everywhere. I even nursed Lovebug during a hike to a glacier in Alaska. 

My boys nursed so often that I used to joke that I could do anything one handed. 

Clearly "anything" was not the word I should have used. 

Because I never had sex or even fooled around while I was nursing. Or bottle feeding Ironflower. I think I may have intentionally flashed Hot Guy a few times, but that was only to get him ready for the quickie that we would have when we put the baby down in the crib in the other room. 

One comment I read defending this vlogger said, "What if the baby cries when you're about to climax?" 

Um, then the baby cries for a minute. Mama deserves her orgasm.  

Apparently this mom is an attachment parent vlogger who tags her breastfeeding videos as #sexy.  

First of all, breastfeeding is not sexy. 

Second, this is not multi-tasking, this is boundary crossing.  

Third, how can you possibly think being apart from your baby for 30 minutes will traumatize them but sex noises and bouncing won't? Newsflash: Neither will at the time, but think about whether you'd like to know that your parents had sex while your mom was feeding you or that they let you cry a bit so they could have adult time?

Fourth, your parents probably let you cry so they could have adult time.

Fifth, you don't really need 30 minutes if you're actually horny.

Sixth, don't procreate with a guy who cannot wait until you finish nursing. 

I can't help but think that this is some warped version of a super-mommy complex. As in, "I never let my baby cry AND my husband is always sexually satisfied." That's a recipe for disaster, or at least a future dependence on chemical substances, if I've ever seen one. Just imagine what's she's going to do when she's got a feverish preschooler who won't leave her side and a husband who expects his needs to be met no matter what. 

Actually, DO NOT imagine that.

The reason I saw this awful story is that a feminist page I follow shared an essay in her defense. I've been a feminist (and alive and a parent) longer than all of these people, so I feel completely justified in saying that making breastfeeding the "sexy" choice and/or compatible with satisfying all your man's sexual desires DOES NOT MAKE YOU A FEMINIST ROLE MODEL.

It does make you a breastfeeding asshole, though.

My Boobs, Revisited

Apparently I've never posted on September 28th before. I've been blogging for five and a half years and when I decided to do one of the SITS Girls writing prompts developed by the wonderful Tracie, I could not find a post from September 28th of any year.

I did have one from September 29th. It's sort of about my boobs and we all know that when I write about my boobs, I get a lot more traffic.

You see, when I looked over the prompts, I already had my posts written for Monday-Wednesday. And the one for Thursday suggested I share a fall craft* or autumn recipe. I imagined writing this for my Thursday post:

Fall recipe: Try a new place for cider donuts! Or from a new pizza place! Buy those apple cider munchkins from Dunkin Donuts, they're pretty good.

Yeah, I'm so not meant to be a food blogger.

Anyway, the Friday prompt suggested sharing a post from a previous September 28th. Or, failing that, the same week. So here we are.

Picture from approximate era of breastfeeding post. 

*I actually do know a lot of easy art projects. Really. But they're not the cute kind that gets pinned on Pinterest. They're for lazy people who want their kids to do all the work.

Wordless Wednesday: Losing My Virginity

I've never done Wordless Wednesday before. Clearly, since I am writing words instead of just posting a picture. And I called myself a virgin in the title. Duh.

 But I have to explain why I am posting a 6 year old picture. It's because I couldn't find it the other day when I wanted to explain why so many people come to this blog looking for boobs. I think it is the only picture I still have of me actually breastfeeding, probably because while breastfeeding was easy for me, it did make me eat like a horse and break out frequently. So I avoided being photographed during . . .um. . .40 months of my life. Except this time, because I was on a glacier in Alaska.

That is Lovebug. At 4 months old, he still nursed every two hours. 

Technically, the glacier is behind me. But it sounds so much better to say "on the glacier" instead of "by the glacier". Besides, I would have nursed on the glacier if Hot Guy had let me. 

Breastfeeding 101

Here's the thing; I don't really care if you breastfeed or not. I know as someone who breastfed all 3 of her kids, the last 2 exclusively, for a grand total of 39 months (that's over 3 years, for those of you who hate math), that I should be all, "You've gotta breastfeed! It's so rewarding! It's best for baby!". But, um, if you've tried it for 6 weeks and you still hate it? LET IT GO, dude. I say 6 weeks because it can be difficult to get the whole thing figured out, especially when you're a first time mom and your hormones are insane, so you've gotta give it a real chance. With that in mind, here's some advice to help you give it that real chance:

1. You are making enough milk. Yes, you are. It may take your milk a couple of days to come in. NURSE ANYWAY. The colostrum is good for the baby and then your body WILL MAKE ENOUGH MILK. Especially if you exclusively nurse those first weeks. Do not freak out if you're only getting a few ounces pumping, a nursing baby is way better at getting milk out of you than a pump.

2. Your lactation consultant may be an idiot. She (or he? Are there men who do this job?) may be condescending, or tell you to pump, or throw nipple shields at you. S/he may even tell you that you're doing it wrong (This happened to me. Fortunately, it was when I had Lovebug so I KNEW he was latched and all was well, I just had a funky hold. Because the regular holds hurt when you have c-section stitches.) If the lactation consultant makes you feel like you can't do it, then you've got an idiot on your hands. Get advice from other moms, Kellymom.com or your breastfeeding book instead.

3. Avoid lactation consultants, if you can. My friend M. swears this is why breastfeeding has been a piece of cake with her second baby but was weeks of torture with her first. The weekend she had her second, the lactation consultant didn't show up for days. So by the time the consultant showed up, M. and adorable baby C. already had it figured out.

4. Find a truly supportive pediatrician. When I interviewed pediatricians while preggers with Ironflower, they SAID they were supportive of breastfeeding, so I didn't question them further. Ask what percentage of their patients breastfeed exclusively and for how long, ask what s/he will do when your newborn loses weight in the hospital, ask when s/he does recommend formula. As soon as 8 lbs, 10 oz Ironflower lost weight in the hospital, my pediatrician went from being breastfeeding supportive to suggesting formula right away to practically telling me to give up.

5. Your baby is going to lose weight in the hospital. They all do. It usually takes time for your milk to come in, plus they just always seem to. Your breastfeeding book should tell you why. If baby loses more than a pound, however, you might have to try formula. If baby is still having trouble latching, use a cup for the formula. Sure, it's messy that way. But bottles are too easy for those who have trouble latching, trust me. Wait until you've got the latch going, then you can try bottles.

6. I can't exactly explain what a proper latch feels like. It won't hurt, that's for sure. It sort of feels like a gentle tug on the veins in your boobs, not like that sleazy guy you met at that party when you were 16.

7. Relax. Kick everyone out of the room if you have to. Don't fuss with nursing covers and nursing bras at first, just wear a robe and tell people to look/go away. You don't want to worry about messing with the cover or those tricky nursing bras (seriously, I never managed to close one of those things one handed like you're supposed to be able to do) until you feeling comfortable actually doing it.

8. Drink a glass of wine. I've actually heard this from 3 different doctors. It really helps with the relaxing and I think it may have helped me regulate my hormones. But stick to just one glass. Presuming you've been a good girl during your pregnancy, this will be enough to get you buzzed anyway.

9. After a month or two, you will be able to breastfeed anywhere. And, you won't have to worry about bringing bottles, formula and water with you everywhere you go. Here I am, breastfeeding Lovebug on a glacier in Alaska:

10. Your baby is probably going to be skinnier than other babies. Breastfed babies tend to be skinnier than formula fed babies and not all pediatricians use the growth charts for breastfed babies So don't freak out and don't let your pediatrician freak your out.

11. Oh yeah, buy a breastfeeding book. I think I had The Complete Book of Breastfeeding, 4th edition: The Classic Guide and I found it helpful. Although, the truth is that Hot Guy is the one who remembered to bring it to the hospital when I had Ironflower and he's the one who used its wisdom to help her learn to latch.

12. If you and/or your partner are all worried about breastfeeding interfering with your sex life, get over it. Your sex life is getting wrecked by the hormones and the newborn and the lack of sleep and full boobs aren't going to make much difference.

13. Remember that I'm not a nurse, doctor, midwife or doula. Although I totally think I could be a lactation consultant. But, uh, I'm not one, technically. So take this advice with a grain of salt.

14. Welcome to the world, baby Colin! And thank your mommy for suggesting this post.

I Really Do Think It's Masochism. Well, Kinda.

Once upon a time, an EP was some kind of record (yeah, it's true, I don't know exactly what kind, but I bet I owned one when I was a kid). Now it stands for "exclusively pumping".  As in pumping breast milk, exclusively. Apparently there are women who believe devoutly in breast milk, but who don't want to breastfeed. And Time or Newsweek recently wrote an article about it (you can Google it if you don't believe me, because, frankly, the article wasn't so good as to make me actually want to link to it).

I am appalled.

Now, I've discussed breastfeeding before. I breastfed Ironflower for 10 months with an occasional bottle of formula and plenty of pumped milk, Lovebug for 15 months with an occasional bottle of pumped milk and ChunkyMonkey for 13 months with 20 bottles of formula. It was easy, cheap and good for the children, of course.

I went to back to teaching after having Ironflower and for 7 weeks after having Lovebug. So I am familiar with pumping. And I just wonder if these women are completely insane  or masochists or what. Because pumping has got to be one of the lousiest parts of new motherhood. Seriously.

You cram your boobs into these uncomfortable shells which suck on your nipples with the force and finesse of a drunk, horny 15 year old. And since you've got to manage to keep them in place your range of movement is extremely limited. Then you've also got to focus on thinking about your baby so that you can actually produce half the milk you produce when you actually nurse. I couldn't even watch TV while doing it. So boring. Oh, and then you've got to sterilize everything over and over and over. I have never, ever, ever, met a woman who didn't hate pumping.

Who in their right mind would choose to do that ALL THE TIME?

Sure, if your baby's (Goddess forbid) in the NICU. Or maybe you have massively deformed nipples. But why else?

One woman said it took less time. Right. Because what new mother wants LESS time to physically bond with her baby?

Another woman said it let her know how much milk her baby was getting. Clearly she missed breastfeeding 101, which lets you know that that fear is retarded and that it's fine that breastfed babies are skinnier. I also blame pediatricians for this. I have met so few who are truly supportive of breastfeeding.

The reporter noted (but didn't quote, I don't think) that some women are worried about breastfeeding in public. To them I say stop hanging out at Tea Party conventions and start therapy for your shame issues. Also, buy a cute wrap.

Look, I don't care if you breastfeed (though I think you should at least try it for a month) or bottle feed or combine the two, but if you exclusively pump? I am totally judging you. It's like you're choosing to torture yourself without any reward. Ugh.

Whipping Out The Boob

Sometimes people compliment me for breastfeeding, impressed with my commitment and devotion. I smile modestly. Because if I say anything I'm afraid I'll laugh.

I embraced breastfeeding not because it's supposedly better for children (turns out some of the research has been dubious at best, or so one article I read recently claimed) and not because it is SO MUCH cheaper than formula.

I started breastfeeding for those reasons, sure. But I've also started doing yoga because it was good for me. . .  . . . . several times. Follow through is not my strong suit, especially when you're talking about something as time-consuming, alcohol-denying and occasionally painful as breastfeeding.

I lasted ten months with Ironflower. She weaned herself. Lovebug was fifteen months. And ChunkyMonkey is coming up on eleven months. That would be good for someone who's only made it a month or so with yoga, except for one thing:

I'm a dedicated breastfeeder because I am LAZY. Newborn cried in the middle of the night? I didn't have to get my ass out of bed, let alone go down to the kitchen. I never had to spend hours washing bottles - in fact, with the last two, I didn't spend any time washing bottles. And when the kid was fussy and no one knew what to do with him? (I say "him" because, honestly, Ironflower was a super easy baby) All I had to do was whip out a boob.

And then, Friday night, it didn't work. ChunkyMonkey DID NOT WANT TO NURSE. He fussed and screamed and yelled and I was lost. I tried each boob multiple times. I walked and bounced. I swayed. I paced. He kept screaming.

Eventually I realized that his stuffy nose meant he couldn't breathe with the boob or the pacifier in and that I was screwed. ChunkyMonkey nurses, then goes to sleep with his pacifier. This is our routine. It works. Except for Friday. And all I could think was, oh my God, what do people who don't nurse DO?

Let me say something to those who look down on bottle feeders: Shut up. You have no idea what those people go through to calm their children (such as pushing the stroller all night long, like I did on Friday) down.

And let me say something to all the women who have told me that they didn't breastfeed because it seemed "too hard": Pushing a stroller all night is a lot harder than breastfeeding, even after they have teeth.

What do you guys think?

The Retard List

I hate retarded people.

Not people with Down's Syndrome or other medically tested mental issues, I like them just fine. In fact, it could be said that I like them more than most so-called normal people, because most of them work hard to learn as much as they can.

The same cannot be said for the normal brained masses. Hence my use of the derogatory term, "retarded" (please don't come back and haunt me, Eunice Shriver. I didn't mean it that way, and you were scary enough in real life). Call them the intellectually lazy, the undereducated or the people who NEED A FUCKING CLUE. I don't care. I'll be calling them "retarded".

And who are these people?

People who don't understand that plural words don't need apostrophes.

People who say that Sarah Palin is not a quitter.

People who do not give their children rules and boundaries.

People who have appeared on Bridezillas.

People who give their kids names that are really nouns, like Lexus or Princess.

People named Jon Gosselin.

People who can't name their Senators but still bitch about politicians.

People who leave comments on here that say, "Nice post, thanks. Try my new hand sanitizer product." (Dude, at least read the so not nice post before your blatant advertising. Sheesh.)

People who can't pronounce the word "specific".

People who want to ban books.

People who find sex scarier than war.

People who cannot tell the difference between "your" and "you're".

People who think women shouldn't breastfeed in public.

People who fight against gay marriage.

People who wear Crocs to any restaurant nicer than McDonald's.

People who wear Uggs when it is not below freezing.

People who can't tell the difference between "are" and "our".

People who think Paula Abdul is not on drugs.

People who don't let their kids read Harry Potter.

People who write to eHow for advice like, "How many credits after a law degree does it take to get a Bachelor's?" and "How many credits do I need to graduate?"

Let me state that except for the eHow idiots, I have personally known all the people on the retard list. I may even be related to, or friends with, some of them. Hell, I may even love them. But that doesn't mean that I don't think they're retarded.

Who do you think is retarded?

A Cheeseburger and a Pint of Ben & Jerry's, Stat!

I like animals. I believe they should be treated humanely. But I also like leather purses. And cheeseburgers.

I've always had a middle of the road feeling about animal rights. I don't think it's necessary to poke baby bunnies in the eye to see if my mascara is safe, so I try to stick with beauty products that have been tested on people. I try to buy meat that comes from animals that were raised in a humane environment. I think hunters who don't use the animals they kill are assholes. But I also really love my black leather boots. And cheeseburgers. . .did I mention cheeseburgers? So while I'd never be a member of PETA, I always thought I understood where they were coming from. Until now.

PETA has suggested that Ben & Jerry start using HUMAN BREAST MILK instead of cow's milk and cream in their ice cream.  Even ignoring the obvious travesty of messing with Ben & Jerry's magical ice cream recipes, what the hell is PETA thinking?

Clearly, whatever genius PETA member who came up with this idea knows NOTHING about breastfeeding statistics. Or breastfeeding in general. Which is clear from this quote from their website:

Because, like all mammals, cows only give milk during or after pregnancy, in order for humans to constantly milk them, they are forcefully impregnated every nine months

So I must have imagined breastfeeding Lovebug for fifteen months without any other pregnancies? People - and cows, I presume - can breastfeed for YEARS. YEARS. But humans produce a lot less milk than cows, of course. And then we have the fact that not all human children are breastfed in this country - not even most are for more than a few months - but somehow there will be enough breast milk to supply Ben & Jerry's?

I mean, I'm a pro at breastfeeding. It's always been easy for me to supply plenty of milk. FOR ONE CHILD. And you know how cows have so much milk that you can actually milk them by hand? That doesn't really work for people. And electronic pumping isn't fun. It probably isn't for cows either, but what else are the cows going to be doing? Chewing grass in the field? A woman who pumps could be doing millions of other, more important things - hell, she could even be running for vice-president. Or working for PETA.

And really, do we need to save the cows that are used by Ben & Jerry's, one of the most socially conscious companies in the nation? Does anyone think those cows are being abused? Really? Does this mean that every single company in the world has stopped testing anything on animals and that all animals are being treated so well that all we have to worry about is whether cows like being milked?

I hope to God that this is merely a publicity stunt. Although all this stunt has done for me is make me want to buy a fur coat. And wear it while eating a cheeseburger.

Wanna See My Boobs, Part II

No, you really don't. I shouldn't think very many people would want to see them. Yet, the post with that title remains my most popular.

And it's not like it was a great post. Yes, it was an impassioned pro-breastfeeding post - but there are TONS of those on the internet these days (which is great, really). But the post is nothing special. Except that it has "boobs" in the title. Maybe I should put "boobs" in all of my titles? I bet I'd get a lot more clicks.

Though I really did start this intending to say a few words about my boobs. Before I had children, I had been quite satisfied with them. After nursing two kids, I do admit to fantasies about boob lifts (no implants, I'd just like them hiked up to where they used to be). But then I watched "Tribal Life" the other night. They were filming some tribe in Africa, I think. One of those tribes where no one wears a top. And where no woman has ever seen a bra.

And I began to feel a lot better about myself. Sure, they're not the way they were ten years ago, but they still look like boobs. They don't come close to touching my belly. I mean, one young woman in this tribe nursed a baby while the baby was lying on the ground and the young woman was sitting straight up. Straight up, I tell you. It made me cringe a bit.

So it made me think that maybe someone would actually want to see my boobs. That maybe the title wasn't as sarcastic as I'd thought.

Though it doesn't really matter. I'm not showing my boobs on the internet, unless it's in a breastfeeding picture. But it's nice to know I still could show them off, if I wanted.

Wanna See My Boobs?

Yes, that's me breastfeeding at a glacier in Alaska last summer. And no, you really can't see my boobs because breastfeeding is not the same as flashing, despite what some cretins believe. The average breastfeeding mother doesn't show a lot of skin. So it can't actually be the visuals that scare people, it must be the implied boob in the nursing situation. The idea that a woman's nipple is not tucked into a bra or flopping out in the open, but in a child's mouth, must be what has upset Facebook.

Facebook, in case you haven't heard, has banned pictures of mothers and babies breastfeeding. That's right, a site populated by college students is offended by the act of nursing. A site filled with pictures of drunk flashers is upset by the idea that there is a breast behind a nursing baby's head.

But there is a way to stand up to Facebook and Bill Maher and all the other idiots out there who think a woman who nurses her baby should be ashamed. Join the wonderful women at the League of Maternal Justice for the Great Virtual Breast Fest. Even if you've never breastfed, please show your support for those who do.

I've blogged on this topic before, and I think I'm going to keep doing it until people are more upset by domestic violence than they are about seeing a woman breastfeed her child in public.

Doing It In Public

No, not THAT. People I'm related to read this blog. Sheesh.

I always use this picture for breastfeeding because that's an Alaskan glacier behind me.

I'm talking about breastfeeding.

When Ironflower and I were first learning to breastfeed, I tried not to do it in public. It always took a while for us to get arranged and a while for her to get settled down. But after missing a few too many conversations and finding only one mall with a breastfeeding room (it's in Council Bluffs, Iowa, FYI), I decided to become one of THOSE WOMEN.

It got worse after Lovebug was born. Not only was breastfeeding easy from the beginning, he LOVED it. He still does, actually. And he's fourteen months old. Anyway, I have breastfed in fancy restaurants, at the above glacier in Alaska, at parks, on airplanes and around uncomfortable family members.

I wear baggy shirts, which I pull out with one hand while arranging my breast and his head with the other. So no one can really see anything anyway. But the longer I breastfeed, the less I care.

For every body part we have, for every item of clothing we wear, there is someone out there who has a sexual fetish for it. Yes, breasts are more common than goats, but so what? I could argue that butts are nearly as popular (maybe even more so, what with gay men paying attention too), but no one is thrown out of restaurants or airplanes for wearing tight pants or showing crack. And have you seen how short skirts are lately? I would much rather my son see a breastfeeding woman than what passes for a skirt on high school girls lately. And what about men wearing Speedos? No one really wants to see that.

Breastfeeding is about feeding a child. And anyone who has a problem with it can look the other way.

Insomniac Baby

Baby Destructo, aka , Lovebug,has been having trouble sleeping the past few. . oh heck, he's always had trouble sleeping. It used to be because he wanted to breastfeed all the time. But he's fourteen months old now - he's cut way back. (Did that make it sound like he's addicted? Good.)

While we went through the whole process of moving (which involved nights at the grandparents', motels and a new crib mattress) I was sympathetic to his nocturnal plight. He was disturbed by the new environments, by sharing the rooms, by his new teeth.

But we've been settled in for over six weeks. And he's not getting any new teeth. And he needs to stop getting up at 4am. At first, he would at least go back to sleep. Now he doesn't. He babbles, with periods of intense shrieking and/or crying, until he hears his sister wake up. Then he just babbles.

He's not getting enough sleep and neither am I. I've tried Ferberizing him. I've tried nursing him. I've done everything short of slipping Tylenol PM into his ravioli. And I'm starting to wonder if that would work.

It's not that he doesn't fall asleep on his own - he does. And it's not that he freaks out whenever he wakes in the night. I often hear him when I go to sleep - he babbles a bit and then settles right back down. And it's not that we put him to bed too early - he always acts sleepy at bedtime. But come 4 am, he's ready to go.

I am not a morning person. There's no way I can get up at 4 am. But I can't sleep well when I can hear him. I'm thinking ear plugs, maybe. Any ideas?

ETA: He's 8 now. He still gets up by 6, no matter when he's gone to bed the night before. But now at least he's quiet about it!