I gave birth to an internet troll.
Well, not literally, but only because she's not allowed to read the comments or leave a comment.
Miss Alexis, she of many opinions, seemingly makes up her mind about things without my permission. Heck, she doesn't even follow my lead sometimes. Even crazier, sometimes she's wrong. When it comes to the topic of breastfeeding, she is wrong. Period. End of story.
We found out about this little troll thing about a month before Mila was born. There was some sort of conversation about babies eating and it became clear that she hadn't connected Point A to Point B. When it was connected for her ... HEAD EXPLOSION.
I don't really know how she missed where milk comes from, but she did. Her complete shock about the whole thing led to a second conversation about you do realize that's how you ate, right? There was another HEAD EXPLOSION after that. Her total and complete shock and disdain for the whole thing led to much taunting and goofing on her because if you're going to say that babies drinking breast milk is gross, I'm going to have to point out all of the gross things you eat and where they come from.
The day I got to tell my 8-year old about how cow boobs produce milk was a really fun day. That's all I'm saying.
Now that the initial shock has worn off, Alexis has moved onto the embarrassed portion of the festivities. For what it's worth, I find it mind-blowing that we adults are still having the same conversations about breastfeeding that we were having back when Alexis was tiny. It's a boob, y'all, not a two-horned unicorn that poops bullets. There's really no reason to be alarmed or nervous or anything. You carry on and I'll carry on and we'll all be happy.
Which is all to say that I'm a discrete sort of person, but I'm really tired of any sort of commentary on the subject. So, while I am discrete, I don't go waaaay out of my way to be that way. If we happen to be running errands, I'm not crawling into the back seat of the car and hiding behind tinted windows. Maybe if you don't want to see something, you shouldn't be looking in my car. Miss Mila and I enjoy the comfort of the front seat.
It's also possible that if we are at Kennywood (we have season passes which were acquired on Black Friday for half price -- BEST THING EVER), I'm going to stop short of walking all the way to Kiddieland and hiding in the designated nursing area behind the concession area. I will go there, but frankly it's kind of gross back in ye ole Mommy Dungeon. There are crazy spider webs hanging from the overhang, I don't think the rocking chairs have even been wiped clean, and the lack of ventilation makes it muy caliente. (It's basically a small fenced in space at the back of the building). The one nursing area is nowhere near as nice and accommodating as the dozen or so designated smoking areas, so screw you society and your weird priorities, I'm finding me a table or bench somewhere off the beaten path.
Every time I do, Alexis loses her mind. "But, MOM! Someone is going to see you!" "Nobody needs to see that!" "Can't you go in a bathroom or something?" "MOOOOOM. YOU ARE SO EMBARRASSING."
I reply to her trolling appropriately, of course. The "go to the bathroom" line was treated with "You are a genius! We should move the toilet in our house to the kitchen so I can go to the bathroom while I cook dinner! Or, we could sell the kitchen table and I could serve dinner on the bathroom counter!"
She wasn't amused. She did shoosh with her trolling, though.
Basically, we've discovered that an internet troll who thinks boobs should be hidden is every bit as mature as an 8-year old girl who just realized that boobs can make milk. The difference is that she's learning that it's actually no big deal while the troll will keep on ignorantly trolling.
