The Nurse-in

No top notch blog is complete without any controversy. Today, I hope to start just a little, maybe get a few comments on this thing.
As most of you know, I have a little daughter. I like to think that she is a very well adjusted, new millennium kind of lady. Sadly, I don’t think that her father is. Recently on USA Today there was an article detailing a very touchy subject, especially for men. Especially for me. Especially for a few of my friends.
Nursing in public. Women’s right, health of child vs creepy pedophile feeling guy gets. Now before everyone goes all postal, I have dealt with this issue several times.
The greatness that is my sister in law has done much to educate me about this particular issue. When arguing, she has the complete package. Smart, quietly tough and has mastered the look that makes you think, “Shit, I’ve done something and she is going to make me pay. I don’t know what it is, but dear god help me I’ve got to find out. Blame someone else, yes! That’s the way to go!” I once ate all of her girl scout cookies while she was pregnant. In hindsight, not a good thing to do. That look forced me to go TO every house that had a little girl, ask if they were a girl scout, beg for cookies at a 75% markup, and run back to my sister in law, keeping the eyes down to show submission to the dominant Alpha.
When she had her first child was the first time I had really been exposed to nursing. We had a few conversations about it, but theoretical practice is much different when the areola reality is staring you in the face.
My sister in law seems very passionate with this issue. When kid is hungry, kid gets boob. If there is a problem, it’s your problem and shows how immature you are, you dimwit, now go get me a cookie. The funny thing is, I completely agree with this. My mind says yes. These are not sexual objects anymore! They are nourishment for the greatness of my niece, who will some day be president, rule with an iron fist, and buy her good old uncle a nice place in the country with a stripper pole for entertaining.
My wife and I tried to go over to their house often when the niece was born. It was really the first time I had any contact with a newborn and it terrified me. Luckily, my niece made this easier by constantly screaming every time I held her, but we worked that out. I had been around my sister in law only a few times when she was nursing and I promptly left the room to give her privacy and some bonding time. At least, that is what I told everyone. What I meant to say is “Dear god the boobie is out, runaway”
However, everything came to a head on this particular day. We were all talking, having a good time. Suddenly, the temperature in the room drops. I notice the atmosphere has gone clammy and my eyes glaze over. Right there, right in front, BAM—the starship has come out of space dock. I swear to God, I swear to Allah, I swear to Mike Singleterry, I couldn’t help but look. My eyes were drawn like it was some weird vision gravity vortex. And I knew I wasn’t being discreet. I knew it was obvious. It’s like when you are at a beach and some hot chick gets her top knocked off by a wave. Instinctively, you know exactly where to look and where to focus in on.
Am I making her uncomfortable, is this awkward? Well, not for my sister in law. Hey, this was just another day at work for her. She didn’t even let the conversation drop, just kept plugging away. And I’m still staring, good god I disgust myself, that’s my family! By this time, my sister in law had so many people looking at her cash and prizes, because let’s face it, child birth doesn’t come with a “privacy clause”, that I’m sure she could give two shits. She’s had doctors, nurses, family, and probably even the janitor see her business in all it’s glory while she was in the hospital. There’s poking, prodding, discussing, you name it and she was there in the most exposed position you could think of. To relate it to a guy, I would have to say it’s like getting a prostate exam while you’re bent over in some S&M stirrups. And that’s only one guy who sees you. And you never talk about it with anyone, ever ever ever. That’s only a 10th of what she went through. So yeah, she’s feeling pretty comfortable.
It’s when the cold sweats start in that I realize that I might need to advert my eyes and schedule some heavy duty counseling. When my brother in law reads this and wants to go full bore and kick the crap out of me, I would totally understand. Like sunspots, the vision of Mr. Lunch Time is still a shadow in my eyes. I feel the overwhelming need to apologize, to make amends, to go get some girl scout cookies. But this would only piss her off more, me being the immature dimwit. But God gave us a way out of any awkward female moment that we are forced to observe or hear about, such as PMS or female pooping. Sports. Thank Jesus for Sports. And in this house, the quickest way to get into a long, meaningless sports conversation, there is only one question to ask.
“So, how did A&M recruiting go?”
AHHHHH, the sweet numbing of mindless sports talk. This question usually elicits a minimum 30 minute conversation about everyone you never heard about and how they were highly sought after by every other college, only to pick brain washing instead. Most times I nod along, throw in a few hot sports opinions and let my eyes glaze over in the conversation. I was able to stay in this sports coma for the remainder of the feeding. After reflecting on this moment, I must thank my sister in law for educating me. Having gone through this myself now, I realize more that it is my problem. Not only is this natural biology, this has been going on for thousands of years. It is only when Cosmo magazine and ilk of that like began sexualizing women did this become a problem. I say this, of course, to score points with my wife. At the next nurse-in protest that I hear about, I am on my way baby!. Only I will have to blind myself first, I still can’t help but look.