Sunday, November 22, 2009

Are you talking to me?

So there I was at the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, for you non-Oregonians) Science Playground this morning, with my dear husband, the three beans, my sister in law and my eight year old nephew. My naked toes were being buried in the sandbox by Quinn while I nursed a very tired Henry, with kind of a dazed look about me, I would imagine (there seems to be a lingering daze, which I'm sure will dissipate with time). I chatted casually with two dads and their 2.5-ish year olds about diggers, backhoes, and twin tankers while I nursed the little man.

Anyway. Henry was done. Done nursing. Done with OMSI. Done being awake. So burp, burp, burp. I rally Quinn, and out we step, still smiling from the feeling of cool sand between my toes and having a quiet minute with my two boys.

And WHAM.

"That is DISGUSTING. You should have a blanket over yourself. You are offending me and with all these children around!! That is DISGUSTING!"

Whaaaa?? I'm sorry, what? Seriously? I looked around to see if she was, in fact, talking to me.

"That is OFFENSIVE! You should be covering yourself - with all these children around!! THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

Much too calmly, I said, "I'm sorry you're offended. Did you not breastfeed your children?"

Really irate, now... "I'm a GRANDMOTHER!!!"

"Then you must have had children. Did you not breastfeed them?"

No response.

Fortunately, in good Portland fashion, four individual women donned their breastfeeding superhero capes and jumped to my defense; one seemed even more shocked and offended than I was, while the other three said they breastfed their children, too - in church, on planes, at restaurants, and shut the woman down. The one more offended than I said something to the effect of, "This is most natural and beautiful thing a woman can give her child! YOU are disgusting!"

I am still a little shocked; I've never had anyone comment so negatively about breastfeeding in public. It wasn't like I was offering my boob to other kids or anything. And none of the three beans have liked having a blanket over their heads when nursing. I wouldn't want a blanket over my head at dinner, either.

Anyway - if you're breastfeeding in Portland, watch out for a middle-aged meaney pants wearing acid washed mom jeans yelling DISGUSTING! DISGUSTING! DISGUSTING! (I think she's friends with Dora). If you run into her, I'll grab my cape and come to your rescue.

PS - Sending good vibes to the four breastfeeding superheroes at OMSI today. Thank you.





Sunday, November 8, 2009

Oh.My.God

So Henry finds it pretty difficult to focus on nursing when there are two very active (read: RUNNINGALLOVERTHEPLACE) preschoolers zipping back and forth across the room, scattering toys, jumping, skipping, hitting each other, yelling and laughing. He gets overstimulated, frustrated, fussy and mad because he's hungry, but there's too much going on. He prefers a dark room. With a little mood music. That would be fine, except for the fact that leaving two 2.5 year olds by themselves is about the stupidest, most ridiculous thing one could EVER do.

Anyway. The other day, I set the little bugs up with play-doh, which is a huge lure, and to have play-doh unattended is even more exciting. They compete with each other about how quickly they can grind it into the carpet.

I came down less than 10 minutes later to find the play-doh abandoned, and... Complete. Quiet. Not a good sign. They had gotten a Ginormous, capital G, Johnson's baby powder down from the changing table, and emptied what seemed to be the entire contents in the den, on the changing table, the train table, the windows (?) and Quinn's collection of about 583 matchbox cars and trains. The good news, they assured me, was that they were cleaning it all up. With an entire package of 100 baby wipes, being discarded on the floor one by one after using them to really work the powder into the crevices of the hardwoods.

Ellie told me she had also been looking for her bathing suit, which was why she had removed every sock, blanket, spit up cloth, sweater, jacket, shoe, washcloth, towel, and SHELF LINER, from each drawer of a five drawer dresser. That was in less than 10 minutes. I can't imagine being that productive in 10 minutes. I wish I had taken pictures. It would make you feel better about your own house and it's cleanliness level. Though ours probably smells better with all that powder.

Ellie is generally the brain behind any serious mischief, like her shenanigans on Friday, squeezing out an entire bottle of shampoo and lotion upstairs in Henry's room, the hallway and the bathroom - and a basket of clean laundry. And that was with swine flu and bronchitis and THREE adults in the house. Still not sure how that got past us.

Anyway. More on the swine flu later.