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Breastfeeding. It's NOT what's for dinner...

”description”Dear Diary, Now that I'm getting on a bit, a lot of my friends are having children. In fact, I was out recently on a friend's birthday, and it was I who was in the minority as a childless, barren wombed singleton. As the conversation is prone to do when you're in a large group of Mothers, we turned to the subject of kids. Now I don't really mind talking about kids. I've got a niece and two nephews and I've certainly done my fair share of bragging about how quickly they walked or when their first word was, but an Aunt and a Mother are two entirely different things. And it was made very apparent to me...
One of my friends has had her second baby very recently and started grumbling about being in pain in the chest area. I thought this was some weird side effect of childbirth until she mentioned that she had to go and pump in a moment. PUMP? Pump what? OMG. I was talking to a woman who is a walking milk factory. She proceeded to tell me and the other mothers about the new pump she just bought that fits into her cigarette lighter!! Pump while you drive!! Well I never. As there was a bit of alcohol involved, the conversation turned very honest very quickly. Everybody wanted to tell all about their breastfeeding experiences. I was just sitting there with my mouth open. Look, I know that my boob's only real purpose in this world are as a feeding device, but I get a little grossed out at the thought of them being used in that way. Then I got the shock of my life as one of the mums told everyone that once, when they had run out of milk, her husband used some of her pre pumped leche for the mashed potatoes. I just about lost my dinner. Then all the mums concurred that all of their husbands had tried their milk. WTF MATE! What is the world coming to. Look, I know this goes on, I just don't think I've got the stomach to hear about it. Thank you.

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