This morning the tiny dictator and I embarked on a new adventure, one not necessarily of my own choosing. It was an unusual episode and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the entire thing; I’m still processing it, and I thought what better way to mentally unravel this mess than by blasting it all over the internet. Why shouldn’t my nipples be fodder for the folks at home?
This is a rhetorical question.
A little background: Ave and I are still breastfeeding, and yes, she’s 19 months old. I know, I know it’s scandalous and damn near indecent, according to others…not me though, and I suspect one day we will grace the cover of Time or set a Guinness World Record. Since tiny tots were never on my radar, this is the universe’s way of paying me back. At least I’ll get my 15 minutes of fame, or my breasts will anyway, without involving porn.
At this point, I’m fairly certain I will be go to the grave with Ave firmly attached to my left teat (the right one’s an under performer). My funeral will have to be closed casket because my friends and family will be opposed to a small human latched onto my breasts, suckling away. They’ll have to leave a small breathing hole in the coffin for Ave though, so she can get her last fix before popping out and charming the audience with her milk mustache and shiny silver shoes. People love her footwear, an accomplishment that makes me proud.
Needless to say, Ave is a dedicated nurser.
On this particular occasion, we were engaging in our normal breastfeeding business, with two fuzzy bunnies, one sheep puppet and her Elmo pillow in tow. It’s not unusual for her to bring all the stuffed animals to the yard, and by yard, I mean breast. This morning though, Ave took it one step further. She casually picked up her stuffed duck, and very specifically brought its giant orange bill right up to my nipple, made slurping noises and then proceeded to say, “Mmm, duck’s milk. Good”
I was so stunned by this sudden turn of events, I did nothing. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. I can imagine some pretty weird shit (see paragraphs above), and yet this particular scenario never even crossed my mind.
Is this even acceptable? I don’t know.
Perhaps I should feel honored to be the first person to participate in inter-species nursing. Or maybe I should be offended she’s willing to share mom’s milk when she won’t share the vast majority of her toys. Heaven forbid, you touch one of her toys in front of her. On the other hand, I guess I should be pleased she’s starting to share at all, considering she’s spent many an hour stalking other kids at the playground, deliberately following them from swing to slide all while yelling, “No,” because they had the audacity to engage in shenanigans on public property.
To be honest, I have no idea how I feel about nursing barnyard animals, even of the stuffed variety. As a mother, my heart says, “Fine, what’s another indignity at this point?,” while my breasts say, “No, and my brain says “you’ve just been violated by Howard the Duck.” Thank goodness this movie was before her time. Clearly, I don’t need her getting any further ideas.
Have you ever nursed another species? No, just me. Is it hot in here? Do you feel suddenly awkward?