The Traveling Breastfeeder



It’s World Breastfeeding Week!! Ok, technically it starts Wednesday but we are ready to party now so we’re starting early! This week to celebrate breastfeeding, Emily and I are going to regale you with some of our favorite adventures in lactation. I’ll start by treating you to my experience nursing my eight-month-old “on the road” as we took her on her first family vacation last week to visit my parents at their home in the mountains of Virginia. We had been overly busy in July and were anxious to “get outta Dodge”, so to speak, but I was a little apprehensive about the seven hour drive because we’d not yet taken a road trip with Sophia, and I was afraid she’d be a bit of a cranky-pants. Turns out my mother’s intuition was correct (shocker)! We drove only 3.5 hours the first night, because I got a wicked deal on Priceline for a hotel room, but we stopped three times, once for food and twice for Miss Cranky-Pants! Unfortunately on the first leg of the trip there aren’t a whole lot of places to make a pit stop. The first place I nursed Sophie was in the parking lot of an elementary school. My husband took Joshua out to run around on the school playground while I fed our girl. Apparently and rather unfortunately, the school parking lot is rather a-happenin’ place during the summer for people who are NOT exactly of elementary age. Once Bobby and Joshua were out of sight, 6 adult males on bicycles made for 11-year-olds cycled slooooowly through, taking their time to size up our vehicle and its female occupants. I got a little sweaty. It was a bit unnerving, but they soon passed by. Then, a truck with a couple in it pulled up next to our car on the passenger side where I was nursing Baby So. Ack! The man got out of the car with a map and started to ask me for directions. I had a boob exposed AND I had no idea where I was! He prattled on for awhile and I listened patiently as my hungry baby squirmed and I struggled to keep myself covered up. Finally I got a word in edgewise and explained that I had no idea where I was either. He apologized and they went on their way. Of course at THIS moment my husband and son returned, and Sophie decided she was done snacking.

We continued on our way and about an hour later were on a stretch of I-35 in West Virginia that has little to offer but a lot of run-down trailers, a couple grandiose farm houses, and a XXX porno theatre. It’s just a two-lane highway at this point with not much shoulder, so when Sophie freaked out a second time, I got to breastfeed at…you guessed it….the porno theatre! That’s right, this lascivious location became my next lactating site. Bobby and I cracked up as we pulled in. We parked next to the road, right under the sign, as far away from the building as we could. There was a mini-van parked next to the building along with several trucks and I dared Bobby to go up to it and see if there were any car seats in it, but he was wouldn’t take the dare. As I was nursing Sophie, a trucker pulled in driving a big-rig. He drove very closely to us and I am sure from his high vantage point in his truck cab, he got an eyeful and was probably scared that the boobs he saw inside were going to be of the saggy and stretch-marked variety. Fortunately, Sophia was soon well-fed and calmed down, and we sped out of there before the proprietors could chase us away for scaring the clientele.

I nursed my baby girl in a variety of places on this trip – my parent’s front porch overlooking the Blue Ridge Parkway, an ice cream parlor, a children’s science museum (about three feet away from a nerdy gathering of teenaged boys – that was a fun one!), and a couple of Food Lion parking lots, to name a few. Some locations were more convenient than others, but I am so thankful that I’m able to feed her wherever and whenever she needs to be fed, and that she knows when she’s with me, her needs are going to be met.

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The Turd that Broke the Camel’s Back

If you’re a regular Mommin’ It Up reader (and really, why wouldn’t you be?), you know it took me just shy of 493 years to potty train my son Joshua. I gave up a couple of times, and re-started, but the FIRST time I gave up, for the longest period of time, was last September when Joshua was about 30 months old and I was about seven & a half months pregnant with my daughter.

Let me tell you about the day I finally realized the boy just wasn’t ready. I was preparing to take a shower, and I thought I’d be a genius and bring his little potty chair in the bathroom and remove his pants in case he had to go while I was getting clean. I did just that and then got in the shower. A few minutes into it when I’ve got shampoo in my hair, I hear him say, “I don’t have to go potty.” Translation: “I REALLY have to go potty but I don’t want to sit on the potty.” I stuck my head out of the shower. He had “that look” in his eye. You know, the look that signifies that a bowel movement is imminent and unstoppable. Here’s how it went down:

Me: Joshua, do you have to go potty?
Joshua: No, I don’t have to!
Me: Joshua, sit on the potty!
Joshua: No I don’t have to!
Me: JOSHUA SIT ON THE POTTY!
Joshua: I don’t have to go potty!

Joshua then proceeded to brace himself against his play table that we kept in the bathroom to entertain him, get wide-eyed and red faced, shake, grunt, and push out the biggest turd I have ever seen. I mean it was like, half the child’s body weight. It shot out of him with incredible force and broke into several pieces on the bathroom floor.

Did I mention I was 7.5 months pregnant, and soaking wet, with shampoo in my hair?

It was at that moment as I gazed with soap-filled eyes upon the many pieces of turd on my bathroom floor, and my little boy’s astonished face, that I realized this child was NOT going to be potty trained before the second child came along! So I rinsed my hair, jumped (okay, lumbered) out of the shower, toweled off my ginormous body, and cleaned up the turd. Then I put a diaper on my son and put potty training on the shelf, deciding I’d much rather clean poop off my kid’s behind than off my bathroom floor!

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Rewind…. 11/17/05. More Milky!

TO: Jenny
From: Emily
Date: 11/17/2005
Subj: More Milky!

Hello my cousin!!!

Guess what happened last night. Ok, it’s not going to seem nearly as traumatic today as it did last night, but here goes. Kate and I went to Bob Evan’s with my grandparents, and Kate fell asleep on the way home.

When we got home, she woke up, and I went about my business putting her in her jammies and making her bottle and stuff (yes, I know she is 19 months old but she still takes a bottle at bedtime!). We were out of whole milk, and we only had a little skim. So anyway, I made her bottle with skim milk, and we went upstairs to rock and for her to drink her bottle. Lately one bottle is not enough (we never got any bigger ones), so after she drained the first bottle, she said “More milky, Mommy” and we went downstairs for another bottle, this time finishing off the remaining milk.

She said the same thing after the second bottle, but there was no more milk to be had, so we said our prayers and I put her in her bed. She FLIPPED out. Screaming, all kinds of stuff. It was awful. So I went up and got her and tried to rock her, but she was screaming for more milk. Snot and tears everywhere… awful. Andy was still out, and I couldn’t get a hold of him on the cell phone. So eventually, I had to pack her up in her car seat – it was snowing, I might add – and go to the Sunoco to get milk… getting her in and out of her car seat while she was screaming, all the while being sure that I was pretty much the most awful mother in history. So anyway, we got home and she drank two more bottles and finally went to sleep. As I suggested, this story doesn’t sound nearly as traumatic for me or Kate the morning after, but it really felt terrible at the time!!

To: Emily
From: Jenny
Date: 11/17/2005
Re: More Milky!

Cousin,
I assure you, it sounds EXTREMELY TRAUMATIC!!!!!!! Poor you!!

TO: Jenny
From: Emily
Date: 11/17/2005
Re: More Milky!

LOL, yes, it was pretty awful!

What I kept thinking, though, as I rocked her while she was drinking the milk we went out to get, was how awful it had been to hear her cry for milk that we didn’t have… and how lucky we were that the only thing preventing us from getting more milk was just that I didn’t want to get her out in the cold. We had a place to get milk and the means to do so… it made me consider how much worse it would have been if we just couldn’t have gotten “more milky.” So much to be thankful for.


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