I have a stinking cold and am not a happy bunny about it. It came on quite suddenly, starting with just a hint of a sore throat yesterday at lunchtime and ending with me sleeping on the sofa, unable to breathe or swallow properly and feeling like I’d been run over by a truck. TNC took it upon herself to wake up at 3am and decided it was time to play, so that kept me awake awhile longer too, even though I dumped her on The Noble Husband and retreated downstairs to the sofa again. A mother’s super-sonic hearing and intuition means that she finds it very difficult to sleep when she knows her child is awake. Even wearing ear plugs I could hear the tiniest whimper and my brain would start ticking away, wondering what TNH was doing to comfort her and if she was okay. I think I finally fell back asleep at 4.30 but only after watching an infomercial and going through a box of Kleenex.
The thing about being sick while pregnant is that a) the body uses its resources to protect the fetus first and says a big ‘Screw you, lady” to the host (i.e. expectant mother), taking so much more out of you and taking so much longer to get over it than usual, and b) you can’t take any Sudafed, Lempsip, Night Nurse, Nyquil, Advil, Vicks or Clorets. Nada. All I can take is paracetamol (Tylenol) and drink hot water with lemon. Whoop-de-freakin’-doo. Not that I’m bitter or anything. It’s just that memories of having a horrible cold while pregnant with TNC are resurfacing and I don’t think I’d ever been more miserable. My only comforts are ice cream and cups of tea.
Someone at a parenting forum I frequent posted an awesome lactivism story that I just have to share:
About a year ago i was out with a friend who was just getting used to NIP (nursing in public) with her 3 month old daughter. We were in a coffee shop (Tinderbox, GLasgow, UK if anyone is interested). I’d been NIP in there from when DD was 10days old so it seemed a good place for her to take the plunge.
Anyway babe woke, mama got to nursing. An old man, at the next table, immediately began to grumble and mutter. Soon he was loud enough that we could hear the grumblings of “disGUSting” and “public decency” and “should be ashamed”. I just held my friend’s eye contact and gave her my “Your legal right!” look (legally protected in the UK to NIP).
A few moments of this passed and then a member of staff passed, clearing tables. Old man pipes up “Aren’t you going to do anything about her feeding THAT in here!? It’s disgusting! They should be thrown out!” My friend was getting twitchy. I put a hand on her arm, and said “steady” under my breath.
The member of staff, a boy of about 18, looked at the old man, looked at us and said “one moment sir” to the old guy. He vanished. A moment later he returned with a paper cup and lid. He put the paper cup on the old guy’s table, picked his half-drunk coffee up, poured it into the cup, put the lid on and then holding the cup out to the old guy said “You can’t see them from outside, which is where you’re going now.”
The old guy had a face like THUNDER but he left. We smiled sweetly and BROADLY at him as he left.
Whoever ends up partnered to that boy is a lucky, lucky person. What an amazing attitude! And I love imagining the spluttering old fool leaving the cafe with his paper cup in hand while the lady feeding her baby sat there feeling confident, supported and incredibly proud. We need to hear more stories like this. Any breastfeeders or former breastfeeders care to share a positive experience?
I love that Ellen asked Senator John McCain so directly and eloquently why her relationship shouldn’t ‘count’ as much as his. It takes guts and grace to calmly address someone who is actively working to prevent or take away your fundamental right to life, love and happiness. Way to go, Ellen!
Consider this a public service reminder to vote Democrat in November, whomever that may be. We’ve had enough of the old, white elephants in the room.
Yesterday evening, I went out to the garden to take laundry down off the line before putting TNC to bed. It was 7.30 so the light was beginning to fade ever-so-slightly. As I folded clothes and placed them in the white plastic basket, I watched TNC chase the cat, Lola, round and round, squealing with delight. When Lola wouldn’t come to her, TNC ran inside, grabbed her food bag off the kitchen counter and came back out shaking it, calling “Lola! Food! Treat!” as she has heard us do so often. My heart swelled and a big grin spread across my face as I watched the intense concentration with which she crept towards her beloved pet with a single morsel of cat food in her tiny hand, enticing her to come out of hiding and into her arms. When the cat finally came near, TNC scooped Lola up in her arms, pressed her face into her luxurious black fur and said “My cat. Friend. Pet,” before releasing her lovingly back into the kitchen and shutting the door behind her to keep her inside and safe.
Tears pricked my eyes and I stopped mid-fold, committing that memory to my mind forever, depositing it into the bank of love and joy that she fills daily. I know that one day I too will want to scoop my beloved up and entice her into my arms but she won’t come running as she’ll be far too busy exploring, learning and becoming independent. I won’t be able to keep the kitchen door shut forever but in the meantime I will enjoy every moment that I can capture, no matter how fleeting.
