I Don't Know How You Do It

Tonight I took both kids to the mall by myself, as my husband was down in Philly for a concert. I normally don't leave the house after nap to begin with, but we had stayed home for the entire morning, so I was ready to put on a real bra and breathe something other than diaper air.

Much to my toddler's chagrin, I told him we were going to have to go to that dreaded place that had a kids' play area and a merry go round. How could a kid not love the idea of this? Every single time I ask him if he wants to go, he looks at me like I've just asked him if he would like to eat a giant turd for dinner. Anyway, I convinced him to go by putting his coat and shoes on and putting him in the car. I'm very persuasive.

We got there just in time for baby to need to nurse again, so we hit the play area, specifically designed for children 5 and under, which is always heavily populated with children 5 and over, roughhousing and running around and nearly taking the lives of the toddlers and little ones who actually belong there. Don't you worry, I give the parents of those older children dirty looks the entire time. If you are one of those people with a seven year old running around in there, shame on you. I get it that you may have a younger child who DOES belong in that area, but make your older child sit there on the bench with you, or closely follow the younger child, but don't let your kid run around knocking over babies who've just learned to walk. It drives me and every other mom with a child within the age and height limits nuts, if you haven't noticed.

Back to our journey at hand. I make it through to the play area without ramming into too many people with my giant double stroller, give a few stink eyes to a particular family who had not one, but two older boys running around (seriously?!), and sit down to nurse my baby. This coincidentally took place after I had pulled into the mall with my favorite radio station talking about this very subject - breastfeeding in public, and how people feel about seeing it or doing it. It was hilarious to hear two grown men talking about this, and saying things like Lactation Consultant and "proper latch", and actually yelling at a woman who was "disgusted" by seeing a mom who just whipped one out to feed her baby while shopping at Target.

I'm not going to throw my two cents into the conversation about this. I nurse in public, but I do it with a cover or a blanket, and try to be discreet about it. I may have flashed a boob here or there, or thrown the cover off in frustration after the baby and I are both sweating from the enormous heat bubble that a nursing cover can create, but largely I try to keep it private. I will, however, go mama bear if you look at me funny or even think of asking me to go do that somewhere else. No one around here is going to be having lunch in a bathroom stall, my baby included. Whatever, moms. Do what you want, feel how you feel. I don't care if I see your boob. You're feeding a kid, which is the important part. And as they said on the radio, it's probably the same amount of boob as you'd see on the beach, and at least it's serving a purpose here.

Returning from the sidetrack. I feed the baby while also standing up several times to make sure my toddler doesn't fall off whatever he's trying to climb, and also to protect him from the giant monsters running all around him and threatening to make him teeter off of the pretend pony he's riding. No one cries, no one sweats, and when I ask the eldest if he'd like to leave the play area to go find dinner, he simply says "yes," runs to the cubby where his shoes are, and says "here you go, Mommy," so that I can slip his shoes back on. I look awesome enough that some other mom actually looks at me and says "I don't know how you do it!" I smile at her and, giggling inside, say "I don't know either!"

But I do know. You know how I do it? Caillou. I used to be against television in our house entirely. Before turning two, I think my toddler had watched maybe two hours of television in his entire life. After baby 2 came along, and Daddy got a bunch of jobs that made him disappear for 18 hours at a time, and I became a stay-at-home mom, I gave up. I let the kid watch a show. He picked Caillou. We watched Thomas for a bit, too, but after a few weeks I think he figured out that those trains are creepy weird, and never asked to watch it again. Thomas' voice is really, really annoying anyway.

So Caillou. It's a harmless show, except that Caillou is super whiny and doesn't have any manners when he speaks, and his mom seems to NEVER be paying attention to her kids (there's actually an episode where she tells Caillou to stop playing so loudly because she's trying to read a book). It's still less annoying than Barney, and less trashy than Spongebob, and one of the few wholesome shows for toddlers that isn't very long. These 26 minutes (a day - none on a good day - twice on a bad one) save my life and allow me to be human. I can put the baby down for a nap, take a shower, and start a load of laundry all in one episode of Caillou.

We got to the mall because Caillou let me take a shower, feed the baby, dress the toddler, pack the diaper bag, stuff the stroller into the trunk, all without too much screaming, throwing of food or toys, and demanding this or that. We were all happy once we got into the car. Happy to be out of the house, happy to be together, and happy that we were all alive and generally clean. Mommy being showered, baby being well rested, and toddler being entertained are how we do it, mall lady. And we have silly little Caillou to thank.