All of you have undoubtedly heard and some may have even read the issue of Time Magazine featuring a beautiful young woman on the cover with her three-year old son, who by the way, looks large enough to take on my 12-year old, (but that really is beside the point, or maybe it isn’t actually) standing on a child’s chair while his mouth is glued to her delicate breast, presumably breast feeding. Both are staring into the camera while the text reads “Are you, and in large, red, bold type, Mom Enough?” I’ve included the photo at the end of this post.
This is not a subject matter I care about. At all. They may as well have made the headline “Masturbation: Who Does and Doesn’t.” My response would still be – who cares and frankly, who has time? I haven’t picked up a magazine, any magazine for a long time. My idea of reading a magazine is to glance at the salacious headlines on various covers while in line at Duane Reade picking up another bottle of shampoo because Emma has just emptied the contents of the last bottle into our sink while stirring it around with a large wooden spoon and singing, “Stir, stir, stir the soup, stir, stir, stir the soup…” (I’m taking run on sentences and parenthetical remarks to a whole new level here. Feeling sadly proud of this, I should add.) In any case, I’m showing up late to this particular party, something I seem to have a knack for, because I’ve got a lot of other stuff going on and simply don’t have time to keep up with the latest “news.”
But last night while waiting for Nic’s school concert to begin, I scrolled through some tweets and came upon this article written for Redbook (another magazine I never read), by Joslyn Gray entitled, 10 Reasons I Don’t Care About Time’s Breastfeeding Cover. Had I not had an hour to kill, had I not forgotten to bring any other reading material, I would have ignored the tweet and thus the article and would have missed out on this hilarious piece. I had to share the link here because I laughed out loud while reading it. Literally. Out loud as in inadvertently snorting. Joslyn Gray also has a blog – Stark. Raving. Mad. Mommy. I haven’t had time to go to it, but intend to.
After reading the article I had to find the actual cover of the Time Magazine piece. As I looked at the cover, I thought – How much did this child weigh at birth? How is it possible that her breasts are that small and perky and yet contain enough milk to nourish such a big kid? Is he that tall because she’s still breast feeding? Calcium… And then I made a mental note to encourage Nic to drink more milk.
I then went off into a whole reverie of when I was breast feeding my children and how I luxuriated (briefly, oh so briefly) in having, what Richard and I joked, “porn tits” because when they were engorged with milk they became rock hard and therefore looked fake, as in 1950’s fake, before cosmetic surgeons perfected the art of more natural looking and feeling, I’m told, breasts. Emma didn’t get her teeth until very late and yet all she wanted was to eat real food. Nic got his teeth early and yet preferred breast feeding. It all seemed like a cruel joke. Emma would snatch whole steaks off nearby plates while the unsuspecting person would stare in surprise at their now empty plate and wonder what happened, while she gummed the steak voraciously.
Thankfully Nic’s concert began, interrupting my musings.
The point is I, like Joslyn Gray, don’t care about who breastfeeds, who doesn’t, for how long or anything else breast related. I’m much more interested in figuring out why Emma thinks pouring an entire bottle of shampoo into the kitchen sink and then mixing it with a wooden spoon constitutes soup.
My latest piece The Depiction of Autism and Why it Matters published in the Huffington Post