I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting, I suck. Thank you all SO MUCH for your interest in and support of my Earth Day Giveaway! The winner is Lisa, @Varunner7, who blogs over at Two Bears Farm. Lisa, as soon as I get your address, I’ll put your package in the mail!
I recently found myself at USA Baby (a smaller and less intimidating version of Babies R’ Us) shopping for booster seats for my girls. And since there’s a little red bean blooming in my belly, I took some time to peruse the baby products as well. So much has changed since I had the twins in 2005! Have you seen the MamaRoo Infant Rocking Seat? No more of the wacky bouncing, gyrating movements and dreaded dead batteries at 3 a.m. This puppy plugs in, is accompanied by several soothing sound options, and moves the baby slowly, gently & QUIETLY in an entire circle. In other words? Awesome.
On another aisle I spied something that thrust me into all manner of inappropriate snorts and giggles: The Hooter Hider.
Image courtesy of bebeaulait.com
It must be said that my children know next to nothing about breastfeeding. While they’ve seen women nursing in public, said women have always covered themselves, so I’ve managed to avoid embarrassing questions by saying, “The baby is just under there in the dark taking a nap.” God, my kids are gullible. Just like their mother, apparently. Sure, they know babies drink milk, but they assume it’s cow’s milk, having no real knowledge of mammary glands. I confess I’ve got issues when it comes to discussing body parts, functions, and the like. I become awkward and easily embarrassed, which I need to get over before, well, the girls require training bras. Sooner would be ideal, I suppose.
Anybra, the girls heard me in hysterics and came running.
“Mommy, what is that?” Izzy asked.
“Mommy, what’s so funny?” Abby demanded.
“It’s a…” I broke off, sputtering and turning red. It was time to grow up. “It’s a Hooter Hider,” I explained, with tears streaming down my cheeks.
“But Mommy, what’s a hooter?” Izzy looked at me with wide eyes.
Oy. Deep breaths. I can do this.
“Girls,” I began in a low voice, “Hooters are boobies. Like Mommy has. Like you’ll have someday when you’re teenagers.”
“But why do you need a Hooter Hider?”
“For when the baby eats. After the baby is born, mommy’s boobies will start making milk to feed it. And I’ll need one of these to cover myself up while we’re out in public.” Obviously I didn’t go into all the logistics of whether or not breastfeeding will even work out for me this time around, but I knew I still owed them the truth.
Fortunately they seemed to accept this explanation without too many other questions, although I’m certain many more are to come once the red bean arrives. Frankly I’m surprised they haven’t brought up the Hooter Hider since that day, although I haven’t consulted their preschool teacher, who seems to hear about all sorts of private family matters.
Clearly, I haven’t fessed up about the birds & the bees yet. That will have to wait for another day. One which, with any luck, will be in the very distant future.
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