friends and family

Recently, I’ve had friends blog and Tweet about the support of breastfeeding anywhere, anytime, and without covering up (I lurv those friends, this post isn’t about them). Then this section of a KSL.com article got some pretty feisty comments on their Facebook page and I couldn’t keep from saying something about the ruckus.

Cover it up!
Nursing mothers should avoid breastfeeding uncovered around others. Ottley said she is a huge proponent of breastfeeding, having breastfed four children herself, but there’s a way it can be done in public without making others feel uncomfortable. In public places, or when others besides your significant other and children will be around (and maybe your sisters and mom), figure out the best way to cover yourselves and do it, please.

I’m a little appalled by the way most of the proponents chose to defend their opinion. However, I DO believe they have the right, and it’s necessary, to voice their opinion; but wish they would do so politely.

Oh, wait. But they don’t want to be polite. They want to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and however they want with no regard for those around them; everyone else should mind their own business and get over it. That IS pretty much the gist of what their argument is about when all that was said was “cover up, please.”

Here is the comment I posted, trying to explain why some prefer not to see uncovered public breastfeeding (not trying to change anyone’s mind about how they should feel about it… I understand their POV, why can’t they understand, not agree, the opposing view?):

My opinion: I agree with the writer for suggesting that it’s polite to cover up while breast feeding in public.

It’s polite to fart away from people. It’s polite to wipe food from outside your mouth with a napkin. It’s polite to pull up your pants so your butt crack isn’t showing. It’s polite to cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze. These are all natural things that pretty much everyone does that society has deemed appropriate behavior even though it’s legal to fart wherever you want, leave food on your face, wear your pants down low and cough or sneeze without catching it.

The issue isn’t that the baby is being FED, of COURSE the baby should be fed at anytime that it needs food.

Breast feeding is WONDERFULLY BEAUTIFUL… so is French kissing but it’s generally not done blatantly in public because it’s polite to go somewhere private to do so. Is that a better analogy?

I’m not saying that breastfeeding is like or comparable to those acts (maybe I should have said metaphor or simile; perhaps I’ll be studying a dictionary later). I’m saying that we have public behavior and private behavior. I believe we should conduct ourselves based on the circumstance. We are quiet in a library, we can yell in a park. You dress up for the red carpet, wear sweats at home while watching TV. The dog has to have a leash in town, but at home he’s free to roam.

For crying out loud I’m not saying that feeding a baby is like being in a library, going out to somewhere fancy, watching TV, or a DOG.

If I were to travel to Japan, I would find out what the customs are and do my best to respect their culture; remove my shoes upon entering their house, bow to the elders with respect, use chopsticks instead of a fork (I can do it, it just gets a little messy sometimes).

There were some rude things also said about/to the author of the article on that Facebook page. Without KNOWING the author or commentors, here are some comment snips:

• breastfeeding mothers… have to deal with this type of hate on them?
• If someone is so twisted that an innocent baby eating offends them, THEY should cover their head with a blanket. Smarten up and CHANGE YOUR ARTICLE!
• That’s just daft and an example of poor writing.
• It is articles like this that help continue the dismal breastfeeding rates… we make them feel like exhibitionists or morally inept… while in the presence of anybody other than their dog in the dark of their homes with the shades drawn! It’s absurd! Please stop letting your issues with the human body jeopardize the health of any mothers and babies by putting out such irresponsible and ignorant articles!
• we are more comfortable seeing breasts when they are airbrushed and sexualized in print or film, rather than fulfilling their original purpose
• …illogical sexual undertone to process of feeding an infant at the breast while at the same time encouraging our preteen girls to dress provocatively and allowing TV shows to sexualize nearly everything!
• Dear [Author]: PLEASE put a bag or a blanket over YOUR head while YOU are eating!
• to the author, if you wanted to broadcast your anti-breasts agenda, why try to hide it in a piece about pregnancy? It didn’t work anyway.
• positively infantile preoccupation with bosoms!
• hiring etiquette writers who have an education and are able to demonstrate a familiarity with their topic
• a healthy number of lulzy prudes squabbling with them. Pathetic. Sad. As pathetic as hiring some ditz who, going by her blog, struggles with some pretty basic rules of English, and pretending that this person has some useful insight into culture.
• holy fragglenuggets! get some HELP
• (To a commentor) I hope you someday realise how sick you are before someone has to shoot you like a rabid dog.
• I believe the etiquette expert should apologize to everyone she has offended.
• Maybe they could use a real expert this time.

This afternoon I visited with a couple who I’ve known for over ten years. It seems that we believe almost the opposite of each other of most taboo subjects (politics, religion, sex), yet we love each other very, very much. We talked about how our written words can get lost in our meaning or intent. Without seeing the face that’s saying it, or hearing the tone, the words are interpreted however the reader hears it in their head. Our desire to get to the point and avoid the fluff gets the three of us in trouble sometimes. What we say in a few sentences takes others paragraphs of filler because we’re to-the-point and they’re side-stepping to avoid hurting feelings (which does not mean I like to hurt feelings).

“I kicked the dog,” said in a soft tone, slight down tilt of the lips, and an emphasis on kicked to denote shock or sorrow (as in it-was-an-accident and I didn’t see the dog under my feet) is written the same but meant entirely different from “I kicked the dog,” said with a scowl, gritted teeth, and an emphasis on I to denote pride in the act (because the guy is a jerk).

Although this post is all about public breastfeeding, I really meant for it to be about the way we disagree and conduct discussions on differing opinion.

And to bouy my emotions back to a regular level (and probably give me a little justification that I’m not twisted), I’ll share this snip from someone who wrote to me about the other commentors vs. my comment:

Absolutely shocked. And saddened. I realize opinions always open the door to criticism, but I greatly admire a woman who can express that criticism in a respectful and courteous way.

Agreed.

P.S. Remember, keep comments classy, folks :)

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(LOTS of iPhone photos in this long-winded post about my trip to San Antonio, TX)

This is me with my friend Emily at The Alamo in San Antonio, Texas. Wanna know how we met?… (say it with a redneck accent) on the innernet. Twitter, specifically.

What?!? YOU don’t meet people in person you know from the internet? O_o

As much as you may find it weird that I do, I may find it weird that you don’t :D

She and I follow some of the same people on Twitter. We both replied to those same people’s tweets and saw each others replies. We found each other to be hilarious, so we started following each other. I whined about my ugly blog and she’s The Blog Fairy. BUT (that’s a BIG BUT that’swhatshesaid) she was on hiatus and had a long waiting list. I whined some more and made her laugh even more until I forced her out of hiding and conned her into helping me (and by “helping” I mean doing it for me) by sending her a check AND hand making her this…

It’s an applique’d bird on wool felt that I sewed into a mini book cover. The ribbon out the bottom is an attached bookmark. My MIL (she’s SO clever) came up with the idea to make cute tweetie birds on the front after seeing something similar on Etsy (I love that place.) It took ALL DAY (about 8 hours, on and off) to make this one. The most time sucking step was picking the coordinating fabrics. Oy vey!

During the intense blog transformation, Emily and I texted, emailed, and Skyped (she’s my first experience at Skyping; we even had a three-way with my host company… and by host company I mean my friend who troubleshoots my hubby’s host company business). I met her hubby when he came into the room during a Skype session once and her kids several times as we trudged through the blog designing. It felt as if we were already good friends in a short amount of time.

Wait a minute… what’s the parameter to figure out who is or isn’t a Good Friend? And why is there a stigma about meeting on the internet? Why does it seem that it’s better that people meet in a bar, at college, at a party, at church, or at work than online?

I’m sure there has to be the same ratio of gems vs. non-gems (at first I said losers, but just because you don’t pick someone as a gem doesn’t mean they’re a loser) whether there are 100 people at church, 100 at a bar, 100 at college (small college, haha), 100 at a party, or 100 online.

Anywho… this post is supposed to be about my trip to San Antonio, not a debate on how we meet people (although I will give you a teaser… I invited someone who I met on the internet write up their perspective of our friendship. That will come sometime in May after finals.)

Emily mentioned that their family hasn’t had a professional group photo taken since her first/oldest was a baby (she’s 9) and now they have three kids and no family photo. So sometime in February I said, fly me down (I hadn’t ever been to San Antonio), feed, house, entertain me and I’ll take your family photos. Done! We booked the flight for April, before Texas got too hot (it was 95 degrees there my last day).

From the airport we went straight to the famous river walk for dinner (met another friend, a duck, who wanted my fries) then across the street to The Alamo.

Officer Martinez gave me the 30-minute “gist” of The Alamo and Texas history.

Found this welcome note in my room (a.k.a. the 9 year old’s room)…

THEN (that’s supposed to be a BIG then) we got to meet up with my visiting-from-Utah @Suedonym, 007, and The Princess for lunch Thursday at the Food Network famous Mi Tierra & Bakery. On Monday we had no idea we would both be in San Antonio at the same time until Sue tweeted something about how she’s at The Alamo, can’t find her bike, and there’s NO BASEMENT. Emily asked me if Sue lives in or is visiting SA, I texted Sue and found out they’re there on vacation and lunch plans were in motion! The food was delish and we got to people watch while eating on the patio.

Speaking of people watch… it happened to be Fiesta so there were crowds everywhere, parking nowhere (except in $15 lots), Mexican bands playing (their tubas), and bright colored flowers on everything. Like this entire outfit… (yikes!)

I almost bought two of these shirts for friends, but took a photo instead.

On our way back home from downtown San Antonio, we swung through Gruene, TX to scout out where we’d take the family photos, did some looking through the shops, and had lunch at the Grist Mill (I should’ve taken pictures of that place, it’s incredible and I’ve seen NOTHING like it; if you’re in Gruene, GO THERE).

I’d really REALLY love to own this red glass cake plate from the antique store in Guene, but it cost one hundred and too many dollars. It’s. Absolutely. Divine.

While walking through the shop, a ball-cap-wearing teenage boy stepped out of the way so I could pass. I said, “Thanks.” He replied, almost under his breath because he probably says it ALL the time, “Yes, ma’am.” And not in an you’re-so-old kind of tone, but in a polite and courteous way. I tracked his mom down and told her how he warmed my heart; she thanked me profusely because, she says, he doesn’t always show good manners at home. Awe.

Speaking of expensively divine objects of my affection: Under a bunch of other antique silver cigarette cases on the bottom shelf of the cashier jewelry case was this beauty (that could double as a business card holder; or just lay pretty in my hand)…

I found it at Uncommon Objects in Austin last Friday, but didn’t have $89 to spend on frivolous things. If it’s still there, you’re welcome to buy it for me (my birthday is coming up, wink wink). No really, I’m serious. I shouldn’t crave it, but I do.

Across the street from the store (which holds the object of my desire, *ahem*) is the renowned Cutie Pies (closed for the day). We quenched our after lunch sugar need with a whippersnapper shot (fresh whipped cream shoved into the middle of the cupcake with adequate spillage up top) in our giant baked treats at Hey Cupcake.

But that was AFTER meeting up for lunch at  with yet ANOTHER Twitter persona who neither of us have met before… @JennieBakesALot!

We had fun talking Twitter, blogging, mom stuff, and food. We met at Torchy’s Tacos and took some pictures in front of the little logo guy and the golden wall of oddities.

On our way back to the house, The Hotlight was on. Do you know what The Hotlight is? It’s the devil’s beacon and I hate that I now love it. I have, since that day, dreamed of it at night more than once. I didn’t really know it before this day. I mean, I knew OF it, but haven’t experienced it for myself. When The Hotlight is ON, you get a FREE, hot off the press, classic glazed donut

THAT MELTS IN YOUR MOUTH, PEOPLE!!!

Please. If you’ve never tried it, DON’T. Trust me. Unless you want to be a slave to The Hotlight (much like being under a trance, with the undeniable magnetic pull) heed my warning.

Saturday on our way back from taking family photos, we drove to this weird thing (it was a surprise, we were just told we would see something “weird”) and boy was it weird! Beautiful to see in person (despite not understanding why it’s a ginormous, at least 20 feet, scrap metal deer sculpture in the middle of a housing development).

I feel like I’ve gone on forever and ever (plus there’s a zillion photos on this post). Sunday Emily made us delicious waffles, we attended church, had a nap, and enjoyed a yummy roast dinner (I ate too much, again). Before my flight on Monday we attended a birthday brunch, ran some errands, dropped off the oldest at piano, played at the park while we waited for her, and swung by Aspen Leaf for frozen yogurt treats (lemon ginger sorbet topped with coconut and pomegranate berry sherbet with blue and rasp berries).

I was bummed to leave.

But got to drown my sorrows in some Bluebell Ice Cream when my last plane got delayed by a good 45 minutes (making the flight back wickedly annoying… I was SOOO tired getting into Seattle at 2am Texas time).

Oh! Other fun thing… while waiting in Houston for my next flight, I ran into my friend and her husband on their way back home from Mexico! Small world!

P.S. I forgot to tell the “That’s a yes” story. I guess it’s a common saying in England because the dad (from London) I sat next to on the plane kept saying “That’s a yes” when he agreed with what I was saying. Kind of like when we say Uh-huh, yeah or amen, and sometimes twice in a row, “That’s a yes, that’s a yes.” He was really nice. I think I’ll try to get the phrase to catch on in The States.

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