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August 17, 2001

It's been a frantic summer here at the Parsley house. There's been a lot of stomach growing and room painting and closet jockeying. There's also been a lot of napping. My niece and nephew stopped over to see me the other day at about 3:30. I answered the door with a most crabby face, hair disheveled, squinting.

"Were you napping?" Maureen asked. "Oh my God. Again?"

"Are you ever NOT napping at this time of day?" Danny said.

"Have either of you ever been seven months pregnant? During a very, very hot summer? I'm sorry, what? NO? You haven't? Well then. Why don't you SHUT YOUR ASSES?"

They barged in anyway, huffing that they'd like to be notified "when the fun Aunt Amy comes back."

Oh, I'm tired of being made fun of for napping. Even before I was pregnant, I was a big fan of the nap. I don't mind being kidded about it, which lots of people do with me and that's all good. But if you're going to be disgusted, take that attitude across the street. Yes, you just take it right on over there, 'cause no one here wants to hear it.

Here's another thing no one wants to hear about: breast feeding.

I went to the dentist to get my teeth cleaned, and the hygienist--who I had never met before--watched me waddle back to the chair, lower myself in, and arrange my shirt around my stomach. Then she stared at my stomach for a long period of time and asked, "Have you had any changes in your medical condition in the last few months?"

"Um...well, I'm pregnant."

"Oh!" she sighed, obviously relieved that she was correct in her sleuthing. "I was just making sure." Then, casually...oh-so-casually..."Have you decided if you're going to breast feed or not?"

"No," I lied. I had, in fact, decided. But even if I hadn't, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be consulting her on the matter.

"Well," she began, snapping on her gloves. "I know it's a choice every woman has to make on her own, but...."

OH GOD, I thought to myself. OH GOD NO. DON'T DO IT. DON'T DO IT, LADY.

"...you should know that I'm a big fan of breast feeding. I breast-fed both my kids, and it was wonderful. Do you know that neither one of them got sick until they were at least four years old? It's just so much better for them. I mean, I know it's your choice..."

"Mmm hmmm," I said politely, praying she was done.

"But it's just so much better for the baby," she continued, poking at my teeth and gums. "Do you know that my son has never had an ear infection in his life? And his cousin, who was bottle fed, had to have tubes put in. But it's up to you."

"Rrrrggghhh," I grunted.

"Well," she sighed. "You probably know this, but breast milk is so much healthier. I mean, you can do what you want, but there's a reason why they call it 'formula'--that stuff is full of chemicals! But it's every woman's choice, I guess..."

I stared ahead silently. Oh, I imagined telling her several things that were on my mind. Yes, I imagined VERY HARD.

1. What if I had adopted my kids and couldn't breast feed? What then? Would they wilt and die because they had formula? Would they be any less loved and cared for?

2. What if I was physically unable to breast feed and it was an issue that made me very sad and upset? How is your diatribe making me feel any better?

3. What if I had decided that breast feeding wasn't for me? Why is it YOUR business to tell me what to do? Who are you? Are you me? My husband? Or are you my dental hygienist? Shut the fuck up!

Oh! Oh! And she's not the only person who has nagged me about this. Oh no, she's just one of many. Do these evangelists think I don't KNOW that breast feeding is good for a baby? Could that little tidbit have possibly escaped my attention? I'd have to be blind or never open my eyes in the doctor's office when I look around the waiting room. Or when I open my mail box lately. Jesus! It's on the cover of every parenting magazine, every Pampers coupon pack, every handout we get in our "Healthy Pregnancy" class, every piece of mother-to-be paraphernalia that is being forced upon me every time I turn around. I KNOW BREAST FEEDING IS GOOD FOR BABIES. Give me some freaking credit!

I honestly can't imagine making a comment to anyone about anything they choose to do--nap, breast feed, bottle feed, cloth diaper, diaper with styrofoam McDonald's containers, stay home with their child, send their child to day care, or what-the-hell ever else people decide to do with their own body, with their own children. Sure, I have opinions about things. But I'd never be rude enough to QUESTION anyone on something she chooses to do.

On this discussion board I read for mothers expecting in October there are plenty of little self-righteous icons in people's sig files..."Proud Mother of A Cloth-Diapered Baby!"..."Attachment Parenting is Best!"..."Circumcision--Why?"...OH MY GOD. What is with these people? Who are they impressing? What are they trying to achieve? Oh, it's just so competitive. Why not just put a little icon up that says, "I'm a Better Parent Than Your Sorry Ass!" It pisses me off. Yes it does.