Archive for the ‘Crossover Blog’ Category

  • Friday Firsts: First Boyfriend

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    Friday Firsts: First Boyfriend

    (Read about Red’s “first” over at The Naked Redhead)

    We were in third grade. His name was Stephen.

    During recess we played kickball together. He invited me to one of his karate demonstrations (it was the weekend of Gloria Estefan’s tour bus accident); I wore a new skirt. It was pink and had a ton o’ flowers on it. When his mom picked me up, she told me how happy she was that I buckled my seat belt without being told to.

    Stephen and I dated, on and off, for about three years. We never kissed, though we may have held hands from time to time.

    How about you? Who was the first person you dated?

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Friday Firsts: First Kiss

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    Friday Firsts: First Kiss

    (Read about Red’s “first” over at The Naked Redhead)

    My first “real” kiss (that is, one of the French variety), occurred when I was in 6th grade. I was invited to a party at my then-boyfriend’s house. The guest list for this party included my boyfriend’s older brother, a bunch of his brother’s older friends, and me. Activities planned included pressuring me to kiss the boyfriend, ogling us when we did finally kiss, and making fun of me for having taken so long to kiss said boyfriend in the first place.

    The kiss itself was, in the words of Harry Potter, “wet.” Not from tears; though in hindsight, it really was a sad affair. It was just kind of sloppy and kind of gross and really disappointing. My boyfriend was supposedly a veteran kisser. Yes, I was a novice, but you would think his wealth of experience would have made up for it. Not so much.

    Lucky for Josh, I’ve now had enough kissing practice to hold up my end of things when kissing commences. Feel free to ask him if you don’t believe me. *=

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Friday Firsts: First . (Period)

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    Friday Firsts: First . (Period)

    (Read about Red’s “first” over at The Naked Redhead)

    Oh my, oh my, oh dinosaurs. Do you all really want to hear about my first period? Have you no shame? Have I no shame?

    I don’t remember how old I was the first time Aunt Flo’ (God, I hate that term) came to visit-I *think* I was in 7th grade. What I do remember was that I had spent the night at a friend’s house and woke up to an unpleasant surprise in my new bikini-style underwear. After shyly asking my friend for “something” to aid me in my current situation, I stuck the phonebook-sized pad to my undies and headed to my softball game. Where I had to pitch. And run. And slide.

    Though I had a hard time pulling my thought away from the inevitable red spot that was sure to make an appearace on the backside of my tight-fitting gray uniform pants, I made it through the game without incident, and fortunately, all my mom said to me when i told her was “This is where we keep ‘the stuff.’”

    Never was I so thankful for my mother’s ability to understate an occasion.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Friday Firsts: First Bra

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    Friday Firsts: First Bra

    (Read about Red’s “first” over at The Naked Redhead)

    I originally thought that the idea of blogging about different “firsts” was a good one. Now, just two weeks in, I’m realizing that I can barely remember what I ate for dinner last night (nothing-stomach bug), let alone situations that occurred 20 years ago.

    (I think) I got my first bra when I was in fourth or fifth grade. Why my mom got it for me is beyond comprehension; I certainly didn’t need it. Truth be told, I didn’t really need a bra until after Jude was born. Before then, I wore one only for show. Anyway, I remember that my mom got me two bras: one was almost a sports bra. It didn’t have a well defined center and created a kind of uni-boob look when worn. The second one was more traditional, i.e., it had two separate boob compartments. The problem with that bra was the little pink flower that was strategically positioned on the bra band between my boobs. I hated the uni-boob bra. I also hated that flower. I remember trying my hardest to cinch the middle of the one and ripping the flower off the other.

    Thankfully, I got through my school days without any great humiliation (well, bra-related humiliation, at least) beyond the normal bra-snapping that pre-pubescent boys are known to do. So, while I can say that this particular aspect of growing up didn’t do me any lasting harm, I must also admit that I’m very, very grateful that I have a little boy and that I won’t have to worry about anyone’s ‘first bra’ ever again.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Friday Firsts: First Crush

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    Friday Firsts: First Crush

    (Read about Red’s “first” over at The Naked Redhead)

    Have I ever told you that when I was little, I was fat? Now, I’m not talking a couple extra pounds of baby fat…I’m talking huge. No? Well, I was. As a child I had a kidney disease and for a few years I was on a steroid that caused me to balloon up. My grandmother on my mother’s side used to sing that old polka song “I Don’t Want Her” (…”you can have her, she’s too fat for me!”) to me. I was big.

    So, as luck would have it, at the height of my fatness (that would be during kindergarten), I fell smitten with a boy named Chris. Honestly, I don’t remember much about him, other than him not wanting to play with me because… you guessed it… I was fat. Oh, I also remember that he dressed up as a transformer that year for Halloween: he was seated on the left-side of the class, I was all the way on the other end. Oddly enough, I can remember what *he* dressed up as that year, but I can’t recall what *I* dressed up as. I do remember that he wouldn’t sit next to me for our group Halloween picture, however.

    That first crush was hard, though surprisingly not nearly as humiliating as a few of my teenaged crushes. Maybe I’ll tell you about those one day.

    Maybe not.

    Now click on over to read an account of Red’s first crush. No doubt it will be more entertaining than what you’ve just read here.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Crossover Blog #5: How Motherhood Changes You

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    This topic… well, I know I could write a lot of beautiful stuff about how becoming a mom has changed me. Tonight, however, I feel a bit defeated. Things not concerning the baby but concerning the grand whole of life have crumbled a bit today. If I thought it enough, I would say that motherhood has changed me greatly: It has given me stretch marks on my stomach, butt, and boobs; It has cleared my complexion only to pave the way for breakouts more major than any I have ever experienced; It caused me to throw out every ounce of sense I had and cut my hair pixie-length short. However, even in the midst of the uneasiness I feel, I can’t simply identify the physical changes I’ve undergone while becoming a mom and call it a blog post. The truth is, I am not the same person I was 14 months ago. To take it a little further, I’m not the same person I was 2 years ago.

    The days leading up to Jude’s birth were spent reading and learning and thinking about how I wanted to raise Jude and how I could do best for him. On the day he was born, I lost a bit of myself. I can’t pinpoint exactly what part it is I lost, but I do know that whatever part it was, it’s long gone now. Somehow, throughout my pregnancy and Jude’s birth, I learned the meaning of sacrifice. Somewhere along the way, I learned what it meant to put someone else’s needs before my own. During the past 14 months, I’ve come to embrace myself as “mother,” even though it has meant giving up being “high-ball-drinker,” and “movie-goer,” and “pee-in-solitude-er.”

    I have never known love like the love I have for my son. Each and every day the realization that this little boy is mine startles and astounds me. Having Jude has made me more perceptive (though I couldn’t find the cinnamon that was sitting directly in front of me on the counter this morning). Becoming a mom has made me more grateful for everything in life.

    I think the Naked Redhead might be better suited to write on this week’s topic. I can talk about how I feel since becoming a mom, but I think what’s more interesting is finding out how other people’s perceptions change as their friends go from being childless to being mothers.

    If today were a different day, I might be better able to express my thoughts on motherhood. Perhaps part of my problem is that the changes that have occurred are so abstract that they’re hard to write about. Perhaps I’m just way off my game tonight.

    Now skeedaddle over to the Naked Redhead’s blog and read what she has to say about this phenomenon called motherhood.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Crossover Blog #4: Designing Kids’ Rooms

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    Red and I decided to go with a bit of a lighter topic this week. She’s sick of writing about penises… I’m not sure why.

    I remember when Josh and I first found out I was pregnant. I was so, so excited to design Jude’s room, I could barely contain myself. I looked around online, went to Babies R’ Us, you know… all that stuff. There’s a huge difference from what I though I wanted for him to what we ultimately decided to do. And honestly, if I had to do it over again, there are a bunch of things I would do differently as well.

    Josh and I chose bright accent colors for the walls in Jude’s room. Three walls are a latte color, and the fourth wall is a deep, bright blue with a deep, bright lime green stripe and two latte-colored stripes bisecting the wall. We also painted the inside of his closet the same color green as the strip on the blue wall. The only pieces of furniture in there are his crib, a glider, a bookshelf, and a toy box. On one wall there are three square canvas paintings. They’re done in primary colors and feature a lion, two monkeys, and a zebra. We also have one of Josh’s paintings on an adjacent wall. It’s a really simple room. There’s plenty of room to play, and at any given time you’ll find a number of different toys strewn on the floor.

    If I had to do it over, I wouldn’t even bother outfitting the room with a crib. Yeah, it made a nice changing station at first, and yes, eventually we’ll be able to convert it to a toddler bed, but honestly, we have no need for it. I would rather Jude have the extra floor space to play on. While I love having a bookshelf in his room, when we move and have to set everything up again, I’ll be sure that 1. the bookshelf it secured to the wall (securely) and 2. no books are placed on the bottom two shelves. Instead, I’ll use those shelves as a holding area for Jude’s often-played-with toys. I love the colors we chose, and I hope that we’ll be able to recreate the bulk of the room when we relocate.

    One thing I’m glad I didn’t do was buy one of those crib bedding sets you see advertised all over the place. Sure they’re cute, but honestly, those things are such a waste of money. Bumpers? They’re not recommended for use in cribs because of the suffocation risk. Decorative quilt? Again, suffocation risk. Dust ruffle? Really, do I even need to go there? I think your best bet, and what worked for us, is to get a few tight-fitting crib sheets that compliment the design of the rest of the room.

    As I stated earlier, Jude’s room is used mainly as a playroom. When he first became really mobile, it was the safe place we all retreated to for play. If your child is going to be spending a lot of time in his bedroom outside of just sleeping, I think it goes without saying that the room needs to be made as safe as humanly possible. Now that Jude’s older and is even more mobile (if you can believe it), we’ve worked hard to baby-proof the entire upstairs. When it’s play time, I can take Jude upstairs and feel confident that he’s safe walking from room to room and up and down the hallway, even if I’m sitting on the bed blogging.

    It was important to Josh and I that whatever kind of design we came up with for Jude’s room, it would be able to grow with him. Although we’re facing the prospect of moving, if we were to stay in this house for the next 10 years, the colors we chose for Jude’s room would be easily adaptable for each stage of his life. Right now it looks like a young child’s room with brightly colored walls and cartoon-like paintings. His bookshelf is covered with books and stuffed animals alike. In a few years, the animal paintings could come down easily to be replaced with pictures of his favorite baseball team (the Cubs!) and his stuffed animals could be replaced with trains. Sure, he may eventually decide that his favorite color is red and we’ll have to repaint, but the room he has now is more likely to have appeal 5 years from now than a traditional baby boy room does (in my opinion, at least).

    I’m sure there are many other more ‘artsy’ things we could do to make Jude’s room unique for him, but for right now, I think making the entirety of the room accessible to him and to exploration are more important than it being really stylish.

    I know Red has had a pretty busy week, so her post isn’t up yet. Keep an eye on her blog though, it will be up soon, I’m sure.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Crossover Blog #3: Circumcision

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    This week the Naked Redhead and I are talking about circumcision. I want to start off by saying that this is an emotional subject for me. I’m going to do my best to be as detached as possible as I write, but I think we all know the chances of that happening are slim to none.

    Here we go.

    Maybe it would be best to start out by making clear what a circumcision really is. I’ve often times heard it referred to as being “just a little snip,” but honestly, that’s about as far from the truth as you can get. Here is an outline of how circumcisions are done using the Gomco clamp (courtesy of http://intact.ca/vidintro.htm):

    First, the doctor straps the baby down to the circumstaint board and applies betadine solution as an antiseptic. A drape is placed over the baby to try to maintain a sterile field. A quick check is done to make sure that the bab’s penis is normal. Because a baby’s prepuce is usually naturally adherent to the glans (this is similar to how our nails are adherent to the nail bed), it must first be torn away in order to perform the circumcision. The doctor applies clamps and inserts the nose of a pliers-like instrument to tear away the foreskin from the glans. Once this is done, the clamp is used to make a crush line for the dorsal slit. The dorsal slit allows the bell to be placed under the foreskin easily. After the dorsal crush has been applied for long enough to reduce the chance of bleeding, the dorsal slit is made with scissors inside the crush line. Next, the doctor puts the bell of the clamp over the glans and arranges the base plate over the foreskin. He then pulls the foreskin through the space between the bell and the base plate, making sure that the end of the dorsal slit is above the base plate. The arm of the bell is now inserted into the yoke and the nut is tightened. When the nut is tightened, the rocker arm will pivot at the notch, pulling on the arm of the bell and crushing the foreskin between the bell and the base plate. Using a scalpel the foreskin is now cut against the bell at the base plate and removed. Now there is a wait to allow the clamp assembly to crush the blood vessels to lessen the chance of bleeding. The clamp is removed. Because of the crush, the remaining skin is stuck to the bell and must be pulled away with the fingertips and gauze. The end result is that there is only shaft skin and glans left. The frenulum and all the inner mucosa including the ridged band, has been removed.

    That’s quite a bit more involved than just “snipping” off a piece of “extra” skin, no?

    Clicking on the link that is listed above will take to you a web page with photos of a real-life circumcision to accompany the steps that are outlined in the preceding paragraph. At the end of the page, you can click to view a video of a circumcision that was performed in 1998. This video features a baby who was given a local anesthetic. It is very important to note that ” in the U.S. the majority of circumcisions are still carried out without any anesthetic of any kind.”

    I frequent the parenting boards over at Mothering, and I’m constantly taken aback by the number of women who either want their sons, or whose husbands want their sons to “look like his father.” Really? Is this a valid argument for performing painful, unnecessary, elective, cosmetic surgery on an unconsenting newborn? To me, it’s a ridiculous argument. Honestly, there are SO MANY DIFFERENCES between a grown man and a newborn… why must a baby’s penis match his dad’s? And if it’s imperative that the penises match, shouldn’t parents who choose to circumcise also outfit their little ones for a pubic toupee? I think little Billy is going to be much more intrigued by the fact that daddy has so much hair down there than by the fact that daddy’s glans are showing and his aren’t.

    “Wait!” I can hear it now… “But circumcised penises are so much CLEANER than un-circ, eh, I mean intact penises are!” It is true that once we reach puberty, our bodies create a substance called smegma that’s essentially made up of body oils and dead skin cells and that’s found in our genitalia. Here’s the thing: women produce more smegma than men do. And P.S., women have more folds “down there” than even intact men. Surprisingly, we don’t hack away at women’s labias and clitoral hoods for the sake of cleanliness. The solution to this “smegma problem” is simply good personal hygiene. Once boys hit puberty and become fully retractable, they simply need to retract their foreskins in the bath/shower and rise underneath… it’s really quite similar to how we, as women, go about keeping ourselves clean.

    “Okay, okay! So, yeah it’s painful and unnecessary, and, yes, it’s not cleaner, but, BUT! It just LOOKS SO FUNNY!” I’ll grant you this, if you’ve never seen an intact penis before, the first one you do see is going to look funny. But I don’t think that I need to be attracted to my son’s penis (nor do I think that any parent needs to find his or her son’s penis sexually appealing). I give you my word that your sons will not have a problem getting laid. Do you really think women shun Ewan McGregor or Daniel Craig just because they’re sporting a foreskin? I think not.

    The foreskin is an integral part of the penis. It has many known functions. Read about those functions here. Educate yourself on what circumcision takes away from our sons.

    The choice to circumcise should be left up to the owner of the penis. We, as parents, are simply caretakers of our children. We do not own them. We do not own their bodies. Though they are unable to assert their autonomy as babies, it is not our right as parents to make permanent changes to their bodies for no good reason. And when talking about circumcision, there is no good reason.

    And finally, I leave you with this.

    Now scoot on over to see what the Naked Redhead has to say about this week’s topic.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Crossover Blog #2:Discipline

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    This week, the Naked Redhead and I will be discussing disciplining children. I promised her I would be nicer this week, so I’ll try and keep the snark to a minimum.

    I want to preface this post by saying that I’m probably more of a newbie when it comes to discipline than Red is. I never babysat, and Jude is only 13 months old. All of my views on discipline stem from a couple of key factors:

    1. I believe that despite their small stature, children are people, too. They deserve just as much respect as their full-sized counterparts.
    2. I want my child to be an independent and free-thinker.

    So, where to begin?

    The root of the word “discipline” is “disciple,” and the meaning of “disciple” is to teach. So, when I think about how I’m going to discipline Jude, what I’m really thinking about is how I can best teach him about making good choices. When we love our children and form strong attachments with them, they will want to please us, their caregivers. Any misbehavior on their part is simply a mis-step, not a willful act of disobedience. When little ones act out, it is often because they are overtired or overstimulated, and during these times, they need us to understand the big feelings they’re feeling but are unable to articulate.

    I think there is little to no value in using techniques such as “time out” to teach a child. Isolating a child who obviously needs more help (as shown by his/her acting out/misbehaving) is akin to saying “I don’t care, work it out by yourself.” Instead, I think that parents need to engage their children when they’ve misbehaved and let them know that they (they parents) understand the child’s struggles. Parents should help their children find words to describe how they’re feeling.

    I think there is absolutely zero value in spanking. None. Not even a little. When is it ever acceptable to hit someone just because they have done something wrong? I ripped on Red’s hair in last week’s crossover blog post. I called her a Republican. Despite all this, Red has yet to hit me in any way. Have we discussed the degree of nastiness in my post? Sure. Did I apologize for my one or two low blows? You bet. So, why treat our children differently? Using a violent act as a disciplinary tool only teaches our children that violence is acceptable. And simply stated, it is not.

    When parenting Jude, I do my best to say “no” as little as possible. In other words, I like to make my “nos” count. Instead of just saying “No, Jude. Don’t pull the cat’s tail,” I say to him, “Jude, pat the cat’s back. The cat likes it when you pat his back,” and I show him how to do it. Of course, I try to be at arm’s length at all times to stop him if he does get a good hold of one of the cats’ tails, but I think there’s much greater value in telling him what he can do instead of what he can’t. Additionally, if Jude is say, chewing on my cell phone and I would rather he not, I don’t tell him “No;” instead I ask him, “Can Mama have that?” and then take the phone from him and give him a toy to chew on in its place. I think a lot of the frustration kids feel is due to being told “No” all the time. So, as a parent, I want to try and say “Yes” as often as I can. If I’m tempted to say “No,” I want to really consider if the answer is truly “No” or if it’s really “Not now” or “Later.” Let’s say little Jessie wants a bowl of ice cream, but dinner is going to be ready in 15 minutes. Instead of saying “No,” you could say “We’re going to eat dinner shortly, but you can have some ice cream for dessert afterward.” If you don’t want Jessie to have ice cream at all, you can offer an alternative, maybe fruit salad as a sweet treat. Also, I’m hoping that by using the word “No” only when it really counts, I’ll be able to avoid having a toddler who answers “No” to every question asked of him.

    I dislike the use of contrived punishments for misbehavior. Personally, I think that natural and logical consequences should be utilized as teaching tools. For example, if your child hits another child and that child turns around and hits your child back, that’s a (sad) natural consequence. Or, if your household has a strict helmet-wearing rule and your child chooses to ride his/her bike without a helmet, a logical consequence would be not being able to ride his/her bike for a week. Using logical consequences teaches children to make good choices. Why ride your bike without a helmet if you know that you won’t be able to ride your bike for a while if you don’t? Natural and logical consequences can be utilized throughout a child’s entire life, whereas it’s hard to imagine sending a 14-year-old to the “naughty chair” for a time out.

    Finally, when teaching, or discipling, our children, it’s really important to have a good grasp on what kind of behavior is appropriate for each child’s developmental stage. When Jude was around five or six months old and I would be holding him while brushing my teeth, he would constantly pull on the shower curtain, often times shoving it in his mouth. The first two or three times I would tell him to stop and would remove the shower curtain from his hand. One day I finally asked myself, “Why not?” Really, what was the hurt of him pulling/chewing on the curtain. It was brightly colored and had a neat texture. Because of those two attributes, Jude took great delight in touching and gumming the shower curtain. Developmentally, he needed to touch the shower curtain… He was learning about the world through sight and touch (and taste!). So, I let him touch and slobber all over the curtain (and I still do!). I decided that that issue didn’t warrant using a “no.” See? I’m so much more laid back than you all thought I was!

    That’s this mom’s take on discipline. Check out why the Naked Redhead recently started packing Duct tape and rope on her shopping trips to Wal-Mart here.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Crossover Blog #1: Breastfeeding in Public

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    I swear this wasn’t my idea for a topic. Actually, when Red and I first talked about doing some inter-blogging between our sites, I briefly considered suggesting NIP (nursing in public) as a topic but then thought, “Well, we surely have the same views, so that won’t make for a good discussion. Plus, is this even worth writing about? Isn’t it a non-issue?” and let it drop. I was wrong. Apparently we don’t have the same views on this topic, and apparently it isn’t a non-issue. Or, in other words, it’s an “issue.” So, let’s discuss.

    Before I jump into talking about breastfeeding in public, I think it makes sense to talking about plain old breastfeeding (that which occurs within the confines of one’s own dwelling, for instance). Babies are born to breastfeed. Breast milk has been touted as being “best,” and it is-nothing comes close to supplying your child with the nutrients, antibodies, comfort, and super-yummy taste as breast milk does-but more than that, it’s normal. It’s the default. Humans are mammals, and thus, make milk for their offspring.

    Okay. Enough about that. I could write pages and pages about the benefits of breastfeeding, but that isn’t what this post is supposed to be about. I’m supposed to be writing about the controversy that is breastfeeding in public. Oh the horror! A baby eating!

    I think the best way for me to go about writing on this topic is to address some of the, ahem, concerns people have about mothers nursing in public. First, there’s this urban legend that nursing mothers tend to “whip it out” when breastfeeding their children. I wish Snopes would write an entry on this because honestly people, NURSING MOMS DON’T WHIP IT OUT! Well, I’ll qualify that. Early on in a breastfeeding relationship, new moms might find it easier to breastfeed her child without a shirt on. Sometimes it’s hard to see if the baby’s latch is good when you’re trying to maneuver a shirt out of your way. By the time mom is ready to be out and about for any real length of time, chances are she has a good handle on nursing and can do it without feeling the need to charge admission to the show.

    Second, and this goes hand-in-hand with my first point, people sometimes claim that breastfeeding is offensive/disgusting/gross/obscene/whatever asinine adjective you would like to use and that it should be done in private (if at all… again, icky!), or if it HAS to be done in public, a blanket should be placed over the baby and mother as not draw attention to the fact that the child is eating. From a breast. A few things about this line of thinking: Breastfeeding is normal. Any issue that *you* have with it is simply that-your issue. It’s not mine or my child’s or that mother’s over there. There is no such thing as the right not to be offended. If you don’t like looking at something, be it the ass crack of your friendly neighborhood plumber, the muffin top of high school girl walking down the street, or the mother breastfeeding her child, the simple solution is to look away. Personally, big, red, curly afros offend me, but I still visit the Naked Redhead whenever I drive through the lovely state of OH, and I somehow manage to resist handing her a paper bag for her head each and every time. Which brings me to another thing… Uhm, draping a big old blanket over half your body and your baby’s is a sure-fire way to draw attention to the horrible, sinful act that is occurring. Nothing screams “HEY LOOK AT ME!” more than an awkwardly placed blanket with little baby legs sticking out from one end. For me, especially early on, you couldn’t even tell when I was nursing Jude. Usually it looked like I was carrying him as he slept. I suspect it’s like that for most mother/child combos.

    People often make the mistake of, uhm, suggesting, that mothers breastfeed their babies out of the public eye. In a bathroom, for instance. I don’t know if I can address this disgusting idea without flying off the handle, but I’ll try…

    No.

    I’ll let it go at that. I’m sure my intelligent readers don’t need me to spell out how horribly insulting it is to suggest to a mother that she feed her child in a germ/poop/piss-ridden bathroom. Thinking about it, I wonder if the “Why don’t you feed your baby in the bathroom?” response is another urban legend. I mean, people don’t really say that to nursing moms, do they? I mean, no one would think to take a nice juicy steak into a bathroom stall and chow down, so they certainly wouldn’t try and encourage a mother to breastfeed her child in one, right? RIGHT?

    Finally, I would like to say a word about discretion. In regards to breastfeeding, I really find “discretion,” and its derivatives, to be a dirty word. I hate, hate, HATE hearing that mothers should be discreet when nursing in front of other people. Why, you ask? Simply because discretion is subjective. If I’m wearing a nursing tank top with a shirt layered over it, I can breastfeed Jude and not show more than one square inch of boob, and really, you would only see that skin if you were sitting on top of me looking for it. Because I don’t show much skin, I often get “Oh, you’re so discreet when you nurse!” (insert looks of joy), and I rarely get hassled (though I was, once. Let me know if you would like to hear that story.). *sigh* It shouldn’t matter how much skin I show or how much any mother shows. What this all boils down to is this: when you see a mother nursing in public, you’re simply witnessing a mother feeding her child. That’s it. No more. No less. If it offends you, look away. If you see a mom breastfeeding and the baby pops off and serves you up an eye-full of nipple, realize that you see more boobage each time you walk past Victoria’s Secret, and let it go.

    This topic should be tabled. I can’t for the life of me understand the controversy here. Even more, I can’t believe that Red doesn’t have my back. But then again, she’s a closet Republican.

    Check out what the bat-shit crazy Naked Redhead has to say on the topic here.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

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