Follow This Blog

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Hooter Hider Caped Crusader

It has been four months that I've been tackling two kids at the same time. Multitasking became a new normal. I have read a study somewhere that suggested multitasking is not truly possible, that it is just what our society likes to boast about, but our brain is only able to focus on one task at a time. My brain is not able to focus on anything at all. Sometimes I doubt it is still present, but that does not mean I can afford not to do five things at the same time. Even as I type this, I am making soothing sounds at Fiona, who is getting increasingly pissed at a parrot on her jumperoo, answering "yes, honey" every thirty seconds to Kai who keeps asking "did you see that, Mommy?" pointing to the TV screen with a dragon show on, and sipping iced coffee that is supposed to keep me awake.

If you have ever heard about mothers being compared to superheroes, I can confirm that the transformation has happened. I have, in fact, become a caped crusader. The cape is pink and you can purchase it for $25 - $35. It is also known as a nursing cover. I applaud women who breastfeed in public and don't give a damn. I, personally, prefer to hide myself and the baby, but I absolutely refuse to limit my public appearances on that account. 

The first time my caped crusader alter ego showed up, Fiona was maybe two months old. I was in a park I was not familiar with. It was a huge park and on a sunny Saturday afternoon it was crowded with people big and small. I found a bench, parked the stroller and told Kai that I have to feed Fiona and he can go play. He hesitated - he prefers my company when we are in a new environment. I settled down, pulled the nursing cover over squirming Fiona and started nursing. 

"Yes, Kai?"
"I need to go potty."

Have I mentioned he is three? Do you know what three year olds do? They wait until the very last second to tell you that they need to go to pee or poop and if they don't get to the potty within 30 seconds,  they pee their pants. At least mine does. I scanned the park. I found the bathrooms - on the other side. My diaper bag was clipped to the handle bar of the stroller and my wallet was buried somehwere in it. There was no way I would leave it behind. 

I got a good hold on Fiona trying to keep her in place (do you know what babies do when you take a nipple away from them just when they started eating? They show you the meaning of "wail of the banshee". At least mine does.) Then I started to run. Holding Fiona in one arm, pushing the stroller with the other, I was jogging across the park with my pink Hooter Hider flapping behind me, yelling: "Go, go, go!" at Kai. It paid off. We made it.

Today I took them to the Children's Museum. When the time came to feed Fiona, I asked Kai to go to the bathroom first. I knew better. I learn from my mistakes.

"I don't need to go."
"Honey, but..."
"OK, OK, OU KAY! Stop yelling. I just want to make sure you won't need to go while I am feeding your sister."

We walked to the outside area and I sat down on a bench. Kai is into dragons now, so we put dragon toys we collected in the museum on the table. He was wearing his Halloween dragon costume over his clothes. I settled down, pulled the nursing cover over squirming Fiona and started nursing. 

"Yes, Kai?"
"I need to go potty."

Oh for fuck's sake, are you fucking shitting me with this? No - I didn't say it. I just let it bounce helplessly around my head. Then I grabbed the diaper bag (the wallet!), got a good hold on Fiona (who is now 16 pounds) and ran with Kai to the bathroom, my pink Hooter Hider flapping behind me. I took off his dragon costume with one hand and pulled his pants down. I lifted him onto the toilet seat (he is now 40 pounds), while still trying to nurse the baby. He started peeing. Half of it splashed out and spilled on the floor. I did my best to clean it with one-ply toilet paper. I dressed him, washed his hands and got back to the bench. I practically collapsed on it, exhausted and sweaty, still cursing in my head. I took a deep breath and adjusted Fiona.

"Yes, Kai?"
"I need to go poop."

1 comment:

  1. Oh. Girl.
    Solidarity x 100. You go on with your breastfeeding cape bad self!