Before beginning my breastfeeding journey I figured that I would end up nursing in places other than the couch. Maybe the floor, or in a store, or sitting outside. But now I am realizing that there are even odder places- like under the dining room table.
Tonight it was the tub. Toddler B and Baby S were engaging in their nightly splash-war ritual (Toddler B is Splashwoman Supreme, Baby S, her over-eager sidekick). Suddenly Baby S stood up and started whining at me with a sad look on her face. Hmm, I thought, that looks like an "I'm hungry" face. I leaned over the tub and raised my shirt. Her face lit up, and she came to the side of the tub and started to drink.
So here I am, leaning over the tub, boob in her mouth, trying not to get splashed in the face by Toddler B. Hysterical. And Baby S didn't just want a sip- she was in it for the long haul. Finally I got sick of the weird body contortions and took her out of the bath to eat. And got myself completely soaked in the process.
Where will it be tomorrow? Under the sink? In the closet? I'm not ruling anywhere out from this point on.
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