So this past weekend was jammed packed with family fun. We returned the no-fitters of Christmas gifts, took Monk to see his first official "movie", at the $2 theater of course, followed by going out to the Tiger Rescue and walking, watching and talking 3 feet away from lions, tigers, binturongs and other carnivores. A really big weekend for the 4 of us.
Of course, the recent boob-age headlines of nursing your baby in public have been all over the mom blogs I read, nursing sit-ins and new federal mandates requiring employers and nursing employees are changing, so it's a hot topic in case you didn't get the memo. How does this relate to our wonderful weekend?
Well, while sitting waiting for Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer to find a pair of properly fitted jeans at Gap, the Gator began to wail. He was hungry and Monk and I were sitting where the return lady had told us to go take a load off. So naturally, I picked the Gator up out of our side-by-side double stroller and began to discreetly nurse him. Rather than let him scream his head off and piss everyone around us off.
Disclosure: Yes, I am a mom of 2 and have my faults, like running out of the house after getting 3 human beings together and dressed and forgot my nursing cover, but I did not just have my boob hanging out, all you could see from the Gator was his little nose poking up from the corner of my shirt and maybe 2 inches of skin on my back from having my shirt adjusted. I wasn't going out for a Playboy or Hustler interview.
We were all doing fine, Mr. BBH was running around, and then an employee with black stiletto's and cankles wearing red hot pants that were not becoming on her oh so size 22 booty came up and said...
"Ma'am we do have a nursing room that you would probably be more comfortable".
Nursing a baby or not, who in the right mind likes being asked when they are completing a task at hand, to possibly stop, pack up their S**T, walk 3 stores down, squeeze into a room that is a fitting room with equipment that wouldn't even fit through the door, only to unpack and get back to what you were doing in the first place of minding your own business? Ok. Well I guess I let her get to me, but just said "thanks we are fine" and un-typically left it alone.
Disclosure: I feed my baby, I get bothered by those that get bothered that he nurses but I am not out there to lead the next boob revolution.
After the mall, we made reservations at the movie theater. Puss n' Boots, the Antonio Banderas version, not that William Shatner fooling grandma thing. Yes, I got fooled at the Red Box. Monk had a wonderful time and did fabulous at his first movie. We made a big deal of it, ya know, we stopped at Walgreens and loaded up on candy and drinks, picked up our tickets and headed in...20 lb diaper bag and all. Yes, redneck I know of course since we only paid $2 per person for the show, but I just can't justify $5 for a $1 box of candy.
On Sunday, we had reservations for the Carnivore Preserve and we thought Monk would love being 3 feet away from those critters that he is a good 1/4 mile away from at the zoo. Plus watching them all get fed...Hello Bonus. But being the only mini-human on the tour, the tour lady really didn't engage his growing mind at all, so he got disinterested really fast. We will do this again, and we know that he is ready for it, but next time we will have to book a private tour rather than being on a tour with people playing on their iPhones rather than being in-tune with the animals.
On our way back we stopped by the grocery. I had promised to make "MY" potato salad for a friend. Well happens that we had super double coupons at the grocer this past week and I think I left my discount shopper card in an envelope at that store earlier in the week. So up to the service desk we went. I politely talked with the woman who hadn't heard of anything being turned in but she turned to the other associate working the counter too, and asked him to check the lost and found box. Now, this is one of the 3 grocers that we shop at, pretty much on a rotating basis. He turns around and says, "Nope, no envelope...Hey this is my RAIN CHECK LADY." Now I know that having a good relationship with your service associates is a good idea, but I don't know whether to be mortified or glorified. It was as if he announced to everyone around us..."Hey there's that cheap lady that makes me write her a book of rain checks every time she comes into the store." But I chose not to look at it that way. This new year I am trying to leave B***H in the closet for as long as possible, but hey it's only January. I chose to look at it as..."Hey, she helps keep me in a job, but she doesn't want to pay full price for something that it only costs a fraction to supply, How thrifty and with 2 kids! She sure does love her family and wants to be able to pay for college for them one day!" Ok, so life is not all those sunshine and roses but one can only dream.
So for now, I am just going to have to live with being the nursing mom, the once fooled but not twice bitten movie lady, the hey stop picking at the tree and talk to that Lion in your face mom, and the Crazy Rain Check Lady.
Of course, the recent boob-age headlines of nursing your baby in public have been all over the mom blogs I read, nursing sit-ins and new federal mandates requiring employers and nursing employees are changing, so it's a hot topic in case you didn't get the memo. How does this relate to our wonderful weekend?
Well, while sitting waiting for Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer to find a pair of properly fitted jeans at Gap, the Gator began to wail. He was hungry and Monk and I were sitting where the return lady had told us to go take a load off. So naturally, I picked the Gator up out of our side-by-side double stroller and began to discreetly nurse him. Rather than let him scream his head off and piss everyone around us off.
Disclosure: Yes, I am a mom of 2 and have my faults, like running out of the house after getting 3 human beings together and dressed and forgot my nursing cover, but I did not just have my boob hanging out, all you could see from the Gator was his little nose poking up from the corner of my shirt and maybe 2 inches of skin on my back from having my shirt adjusted. I wasn't going out for a Playboy or Hustler interview.
We were all doing fine, Mr. BBH was running around, and then an employee with black stiletto's and cankles wearing red hot pants that were not becoming on her oh so size 22 booty came up and said...
"Ma'am we do have a nursing room that you would probably be more comfortable".
Nursing a baby or not, who in the right mind likes being asked when they are completing a task at hand, to possibly stop, pack up their S**T, walk 3 stores down, squeeze into a room that is a fitting room with equipment that wouldn't even fit through the door, only to unpack and get back to what you were doing in the first place of minding your own business? Ok. Well I guess I let her get to me, but just said "thanks we are fine" and un-typically left it alone.
Disclosure: I feed my baby, I get bothered by those that get bothered that he nurses but I am not out there to lead the next boob revolution.
After the mall, we made reservations at the movie theater. Puss n' Boots, the Antonio Banderas version, not that William Shatner fooling grandma thing. Yes, I got fooled at the Red Box. Monk had a wonderful time and did fabulous at his first movie. We made a big deal of it, ya know, we stopped at Walgreens and loaded up on candy and drinks, picked up our tickets and headed in...20 lb diaper bag and all. Yes, redneck I know of course since we only paid $2 per person for the show, but I just can't justify $5 for a $1 box of candy.
On Sunday, we had reservations for the Carnivore Preserve and we thought Monk would love being 3 feet away from those critters that he is a good 1/4 mile away from at the zoo. Plus watching them all get fed...Hello Bonus. But being the only mini-human on the tour, the tour lady really didn't engage his growing mind at all, so he got disinterested really fast. We will do this again, and we know that he is ready for it, but next time we will have to book a private tour rather than being on a tour with people playing on their iPhones rather than being in-tune with the animals.
On our way back we stopped by the grocery. I had promised to make "MY" potato salad for a friend. Well happens that we had super double coupons at the grocer this past week and I think I left my discount shopper card in an envelope at that store earlier in the week. So up to the service desk we went. I politely talked with the woman who hadn't heard of anything being turned in but she turned to the other associate working the counter too, and asked him to check the lost and found box. Now, this is one of the 3 grocers that we shop at, pretty much on a rotating basis. He turns around and says, "Nope, no envelope...Hey this is my RAIN CHECK LADY." Now I know that having a good relationship with your service associates is a good idea, but I don't know whether to be mortified or glorified. It was as if he announced to everyone around us..."Hey there's that cheap lady that makes me write her a book of rain checks every time she comes into the store." But I chose not to look at it that way. This new year I am trying to leave B***H in the closet for as long as possible, but hey it's only January. I chose to look at it as..."Hey, she helps keep me in a job, but she doesn't want to pay full price for something that it only costs a fraction to supply, How thrifty and with 2 kids! She sure does love her family and wants to be able to pay for college for them one day!" Ok, so life is not all those sunshine and roses but one can only dream.
So for now, I am just going to have to live with being the nursing mom, the once fooled but not twice bitten movie lady, the hey stop picking at the tree and talk to that Lion in your face mom, and the Crazy Rain Check Lady.
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