Sophia, breastfeeding advocate

This morning I was at Starbucks, having some dessert for breakfast with my lovely niece, Kate. Sophia was sitting on my lap, eating crumbs from my cake and generally being charming (biased? No. I simply report the facts).

After we'd sat there for a while, chatting, Sophia decided that crumbs were not going to cut it and she wanted to nurse. Now. Storm clouds gathered, lightening flashed, she flung herself face-first at my chest, and started to whimper. That's feed me now, level 1, and level 2 includes something the boys refer to as the "tauntaun mad" - because she sounds like a tauntaun? From Star Wars? I don't know about that, but I do know tauntaun mad is no happy event, especially in a Starbucks.

Conveniently enough, I had brought my breasts with me. This is, by the way, one of the top reasons I breastfeed. Because I cannot forget to bring the baby's food, even if I have stumbled out of the house with no diapers or wipes or spit rags or sense. Which I actually did, this morning. But I did not forget the breasts. Score one for mama.

Or not, because as I got Sophia bellied up to the milk bar, something caught my eye. Across the room a man was looking at me, turning away, turning back, turning away. On the edge of my vision, his face was like a strobe light of disapproval. He glared, he turned away. He glared again, he said something to his companion loud enough that I heard, "if SHE'S going to do THAT!" and "RIGHT HERE in public!" and "WHY should I have SEE THAT?"

Sir, I wanted to say, if you saw my actual breasts, you have x-ray vision. If you're objecting to what you're actually seeing, which is the back of my baby's head, you are a weirdo.

But apparently he must have been, because he just. kept. glaring. Turn, glare. Turn away, protest. Turn back, glare.

Here's a thought: if the sight upsets you - STOP LOOKING.

He even switched chairs. TO A CLOSER ONE. Glare, glare. Agitate, agitate. I was irritated, but whatever. Cranky man is cranky. Big deal. I have an actual, legal right to breastfeed. With my actual, legal breasts.

But then Sophia had to jump into the fray.

Bless her heart, the child is at that age where the world is SO INTERESTING that mere life-giving sustenance can't compete. She pops off several times during each nursing session to look around, suck on her lips meditatively, comment, and then dive back to finish her meal. And that's just what she did (I would like to point out that such are my mad breast skilz that there was no nipple exposure. I am wise to the six month old's ways, and kept one hand poised to yank down my t-shirt the second her cheek started to pull away. I am GOOD). And guess who she looked at EVERY SINGLE TIME? That's right, Cranky Man. So here's the scene:

Me: chat chat, feed feed

Cranky Man: glare glare

Sophia: nurse nurse, pop off, roll head around 180 degrees to fix Cranky Man with somber blue eyes

Cranky Man: apoplectic

Me: chat chat

Sophia: nurse nurse

Six months old, and she's an activist.

Comments

[Swistle]

I feel like kicking that man in the nuts.

[Teble]

You just took me back eleven years to when Twelve (as I affectionately refer to my oldest youngling) was a milk machine. My whole extended family had the disapproving glare down pat, but Twelve didn't care. And neither did I. I always kept a blanket with me for discretion, but Baby violently objected to having his view of the Glarers obstructed. Hee hee. Still cracks me up all these years later.

[Laura]

oh good grief. I'm sure he'd have been JUST as disapproving if some young hottie in a wet t-shirt strolled in. Why is it only offensive when boobs are being used as intended?

What a dink.

[Amma Always]

I am SOOOOOO proud!

[Katie @ Can't Get There From Here]

Ho? How do you not say something to Cranky Man? Like, Oh, I'm sorry - are my boobs scaring you? Or, Are we not at an eating establishment? Because my child needs to eat. Gah!!

[Katie @ Can't Get There From Here]

HA HA HA - obviously that first one was supposed to be HOW? I was not calling Cranky Man a Ho. Although it is tempting... :)

(stupid typing skills)

[Michelle]

Cranky man needs to get over himself. Asshat.

[Sarita]

Ha ha. babes know. Reminds me of the time my we took our (then two) kids to Munich, involving many changes of planes. Toddler boy was a surprising gem the whole time, being relatively content with the scotch tape and books I brought to keep him entertained and then nursing the rest of the time. Except. For the one leg of the flight where, as soon as we entered, a Cranky Man in front of us muttered, "GREAT. a KID. I always have to sit by a KID." This was before said kid did anything more than climb in his seat. Well. That was the leg of the flight when kid screamed non-stop for two hours and was, for the first time in his life, not interested in nursing. Sometimes i believe in karma, you know?

[Dawn]

Oh, for cryin' out loud! Would that asshat glare like that at a strip club? At Playboy ? I think not.

He was just jealous because he wasn't getting a clear view and that darned baby was getting in the way.

He deserved a loud "You, sir, are an ass." followed by, "That man is sexually harrassing me."

[Heather]

I haven't been around for a bajillion years. Squeeeee! You have a baby! And she kicks ass.

[Padded nursing bras]

That is so disgusting!
Martina