So, I’ve rebounded from my impending nervous breakdown caused by all the non-sleeping and am feeling much better. I won’t even embarrass myself by taking an “after” picture of the bowl of patriotic M&M’s. Let’s just say a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
Caroline and I were at the pool yesterday. The pool, just so y’all know, is the greatest thing that has ever happened to our family and I’m not even exaggerating a little bit, because y’all know I don’t EVER, EVER exaggerate. I don’t know what we would do without the pool, but feel sure it would be something along the lines of spending all summer locked inside watching Noggin because MY WORD the heat.
It’s like sticking your head in hell every time you walk out the back door.
And why would you do that on purpose?
Anyway, we were at the pool. We’d spent well over an hour playing in the big pool, and then headed over to our favorite grassy spot by the baby pool to eat some ice cream, because HELLO, they totally sell a wide assortment of ice cream and ice cream bars at the pool.
The pool has ice cream, celebrity sightings, and it causes Caroline to be so tired that her legs collapse beneath her by the time we leave. What more do you need to know to convince you of its greatness?
We sat on our towel and I opened Caroline’s ice cream sandwich for her which, let me just say, if you’re trying to watch your fat grams and have been purchasing Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches and telling yourself that they taste exactly like the real ones? Then, don’t actually take a bite of a real one. The disappointment and disillusionment will be more than you can bear. Blue Bell vs. Skinny Cow…let’s just say Blue Bell takes Skinny Cow and chops her up into a sad, pathetic, tasteless hamburger.
Could I get more off topic?
The answer is always yes, yes I could.
But I won’t.
And really, it’s all coming back around to skinny cow…in a manner of speaking.
So, we’re relaxing on our towel when I look over and notice a lady nursing her 1 year old while sitting on the edge of the baby pool. And I don’t mean discreetly breastfeeding her child. I mean swimsuit top pulled up and maximum boobage hanging out. I am all for breastfeeding. Hooray for breastfeeding, but seriously there are gangs of 12 year old boys that roam the pool. They do not need to be confronted with the boob, much less the boob of a nursing mama, which could cause boyhood fantasies to crumble and die in a sad little pile.
My sole goal became to distract Caroline from the breastfeeding because I knew it would open up a can of awkwardness and loud questions that I just couldn’t bear to answer. Being in a swimsuit is bad enough without having your 3 year old pointing loudly and asking inappropriate questions.
And while I realize that I am perhaps a little more modest than your average person, as evidenced by the fact that I changed clothes in the bathroom for most of my honeymoon (never even imagining what horrors childbirth would someday unleash on my modesty) until P reminded me that we were married, I still think that given the setting, a discreetly draped towel might have been a good choice. Maybe it’s just because I am such a private person.
Well, unless you count the fact that I broadcast my life on the internet.
If a woman wants to nurse right out in public, then more power to her. But boobs hanging directly out of a swimsuit for all the world to see are just wrong. It shouldn’t happen at the pool unless, hypothetically speaking, it was caused by an unfortunate wardrobe situation while going down the slide.