Like a Traveling Nudie Beach (Without the French Je Ne Sais Quoi)

One would think after breastfeeding four children for almost a year each, I would have NO issues feeding my fifth. And from a purely nutritional standpoint, thankfully, I don't: I have always produced gallons of milk which my children have sucked down so eagerly and ravenously that they have all looked like offspring of the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man after a few weeks.

But to breastfeed gracefully and in public has never been particularly easy for me, although I do it anyway. Some more modest and elegant mothers I know pump and bring bottles out in public, but I am too damn lazy to pump if I don't have to (which means if I am not working in an office for 8 hours, I am not pumping).

So: I always have milk stains all over my shirt, since I never remember to replace my nursing pads after they have been soaked through. And I managed to get the most ill-fitting horrible nursing bras from Motherhood Maternity - this place should be burnt down in the middle of the night, my friends - with straps that never stay up.

None of this would be TOO bad - the straps and the stains - but it is often much worse: the other day in Target, for example, where I took the baby out of her car carrier and started nursing her while I pushed the cart. Yes, I walk and nurse at the same time - a practice my mother abhors. I tactfully threw a blanket over my shoulder and meandered along until I saw something - probably a shoe - I wanted to inspect when the blanket fell to the floor, exposing me, my floppy c-section belly, et CETERA, to all of Target.

Or worse: at one son's soccer game last week, I spent most of the second half nursing the baby on our blanket on the sidelines. After the game, we packed up the five kids, many balls, bags, and assorted snacks and jetsam, and made our achingly slow way to the parking lot. When we got to the car, PVT looked at me in horror: apparently I had forgotten - as usual - to restrap my bra, and my entire boob had come up OVER my shirt's scoop neckline. How long had I been flashing the whole soccer field? WHO KNOWS, my friends.

Fortunately I have finally received my much improved nursing bra with better coverage. And maybe I'll occasionally remember to restrap it. So if you see me walking around it with my boob hanging out, just avert your head and move along. Or, better yet, LET ME KNOW. I apparently have NO IDEA whether I am clothed or otherwise.