Day 4.5 – What’s the big frigging deal?

Standard

Today one of my friends from my second year of university and I decided to have a bus date together. She lives like a 10 minuet bus ride away from me, but thanks to me being in school and her having 3 month old baby, we don’t have a lot of time to see each other. Her baby-daddy is on tour with the Canadian Army so she’s pretty much raising a baby all on her own for the time being. Girl has a great family who make everything easier, but we still don’t get a lot of time to see each other. I don’t blame her for that, she devotes her entire life to her baby boy and not only is she a good person, but she is about the best parent anyone could be.

Now, I’ve been hesitating writing this entry all day because it shows me at my potential worse as a human being. I’ve hummed and hawed over whether I should write this or should write something about my favorite bus routes in the Greater Vancouver Area. However, what really got me to settle in and write what I’m about the write is the fact that Facebook had a “Nurse In” today. It seems appropriate that I have a perfectly horrifying breast feeding story to share with the world.

No, I don’t have kids. This is about what happened to my friend while she was with me at a bus stop waiting to take a bus with me to school. I’m actually horrified and totally terrified at the idea of birthing a baby and I’m totally terrified of pregnant tummies. That’s besides my point. My point is that I’m an awful person and I’m about to write some awful things, so if you happen to be easily offended: Stop reading. If you’re ok with curse words, cuss words and a 24 year old Criminology student talking like a dirty, stinkin’ sailor, then read on.

Like I said before, my friend and I had a bus date today so we could have sometime to catch up and hang out with each other. Her being the good parent that she is, she brought her baby with her. According to her she hasn’t spent more than a couple of hours away from him since his birth. She had one of those cute baby sling thingies that she made me wear so that I would attempt to like holding her semi-new born child and jump start my internal ticking clock because she thinks I should be a mother too. Well I was holding said child in his super cute sling and feeling semi-uneasy over the fact that he was being fussy and fidgety. There is no way I could have dropped the kid, but I was still scared. However, that scared turned to “WHAT THE HELL?!” as he started grabbing at my boob and smashing his face against my ample bosom.

Now, my friend breast feeds. She does it because she likes the quiet time with her child and it gives them a chance to bond. I don’t understand that because I’m not a mother, but I do understand the fact that she likes spending time with her kidlet. I’ve seen her feeding her child. She coo’s, cuddles, sings, talks and dances while her little one is feeding. She says it’s one of the highlights of her day because it’s just her and her boy and no one can take that away from her. Then her being the scary biology major that she was, she listed off all the studies that prove breast feeding is best because it leads to overall healthier babies than formula fed ones, leads to overall healthier moms than those who formula feed and all the reasons why breast feeding is better for the environment. She also said people milk is made for people while other milk and formula is made for other animals and brain controlling the population. But it was me her kid was grabbing at and I don’t milktate so I was a little freaked out but the little cutie trying to get at my empty udders.

Yeah, it was feeding time. My mommy-friend took her boy back, I helped her settle in with her sling and she very discretely pulled out her boob and proceeded to feed her hungry small person. I’ll admit, I’ve had a few friends with kids and I’m still not comfortable with the whole breast feeding deal, but I’m not a total spazz about it anymore. I used to have to leave the room when my friends whipped their boobs out to feed, but I’ve since grown up and now realize this is a normal everyday thing in the life of a breastfeeding mother. And you know what? It’s not like you could see any boob since she covered her and baby boy up with a blanket, but that didn’t matter. Nope not at all.

I was sitting next to her and we were joking around like we usually do. I was ranting about my mouth breather lab partner who has the worst breath in the world and she in turn told me all about how great her little guy was and all the great, amazing and funny things that he did on a daily basis. Apparently he always smiled just before he farted, he baby babbled to his one stuffed bear and was always happy whenever they watched “Happy Gilmore” together.

In the middle of our perfectly witty and silly conversation about old movies, how Barney is banned and how I love Teletubbies, this middle aged fat woman came out of nowhere, wagging her finger and telling my friend how she should be ashamed of herself and should learn to have a little common decency when in public. This woman barely cleared five feat and had this old weathered face that had gross make up caked all over it and she had this grossly yellow teeth. She told my friend that exposing herself like she was in public was a crime and that she ought to call the cops. This woman went off on my friend for a solid minuet saying how no one wanted to “see a giant tit out in the open for all too see” and I lost it.

In the middle of this rant I piped up and said “Yeah, well no one wants to see your face out in the open but you still come outside.”

The old hag was speechless. I took a shot in the dark and guess that she’d had no children and asked “You don’t have children do you?”

Still stunned she replied that no, she’d never had kids.

I responded with, “Well my dear twat faced woman! That doesn’t surprise me. And you know what? You get no say in this matter. My friend is taking care of her child like a proper human being should. She is raising a perfectly perfect little man that she birthed after carrying him for a solid 8 months! You, on the other hand have pushed nothing but cheese out of your shriveled up cunt and I would almost feel sorry for you if you weren’t such bitchy old twunt who should find the nearest bridge and leap right the fuck off because that would make the whole gosh darned fucking world a whole fucking lot better because you would be dead. And if you do that, make sure to take shower in pure alcohol and be sure to douche out so that you don’t ruin the ecosystems with your poisonous snatch and cuntish everything else.”

Then I stood up and started yelling at her to “get the fuck out of C’s environment” (C is my friends baby boy) because her “spoiled and raisin-ized eggs” were ruining the child’s elevensies and I didn’t want my friend to have to tell her kid about the time I got arrested for slapping an old woman in public.

Keep in mind I was talking loud enough for everyone near me to clearly hear everything that I said and that I’m 5’9 so I was towered over this stupid, stupid woman. I made sure woman had the fear of every deity shoved into her soul as I continued to cuss, curse and swear at her. She finally had enough, gathered herself up and scuttled off while I yelled at her that she should think next time before she left her house with her face and wanted to pick on good people and great mothers.

Then I sat back down and my friend promptly told me that I shouldn’t curse in front of her child and hugged me.

I personally don’t understand the big deal about breast feeding in public is. It’s natural and it’s not like these woman are like me and mooning strangers for the fun of it. It’s just good mommy’s being good mommy’s and feeding their kids good food.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Day 4.5 – What’s the big frigging deal?

  1. wow! Back when my kids were at the nursing stage, I went to disney world and all kinds of places and whipped it out when need be. Today things are so overly politically correct and all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s