Baby K’Tan

I am grateful for the extreme security precautions at our international airports, but I never would have made my flight with Amelia, my suitcase, and my sanity without my Baby K’tan carrier. Look at all the different ways you can wear this sling:

(images via Baby K’tan)

My midwife, Leigh, from the Carolina Community Maternity Center, let me borrow one after I had Mia, and I wear it almost everywhere… to church, the mall, the market. I tried other slings and carriers, but I love this one. It simply slips on and off without the hassle of adjusting annoying straps or buckles. And I’m pretty sure Mr. Corporate America sharing a row with me on the plane appreciates that my K’tan doubles as a nursing cover.

Check out their website for more products and carrying positions. This one just so happens to be my favorite…

My litte pea in a pod!

P.S. I still owe you, Leigh!

Ta-Ta Tacos

I flashed my waiter last night. It wasn’t because of the added twist of lime in my guacamole either. There we were a family of 4 eating out for the first time since Ameila was born. It was apparent to everyone that we don’t get out much. My toddler is tossing tortilla chips on the floor while Clark is trying to explain the difference between a tostada, an enchilada, and a chimichanga. It was a rather enlightening way to pass the time until Miguel returned with my beer and Salem’s milk. We had chosen an end booth so I could discretely nurse Mia who was curled up in the baby sling. Yes, I am a nursing mother who occasionally partakes of adult beverages. I’m not saying I do belly shots after the kids go to sleep, but the 4oz prenatal tonic served me well during pregnancy and I have two healthy and thriving children– so don’t judge me. Anyway, in the middle of Salem’s chip throwing tournament and Clark’s dissertation on the proper way to order Mexican food, I didn’t notice that my nursing shawl had….er….“malfunctioned”. There I was in all my mama glory at the exact moment Miguel came to deliver my Miller Light. In an impromptu round of charades, Clark is frantically trying to communicate to me that I am no longer “kicking it family style” if you know what I mean. He began to shout in a whisper, “Below! Below!”… to which I, being deaf in one ear, responded, “Blow what?!” It was too little too late. Our safe for the whole family affair ended up turning into a happy hour peep show for Miguel, Miller, and anyone else who happened to glance up from their tacos at the perfect moment. What’s worse is that Clark has always been a little uncomfortable with nursing in public regardless of all efforts at discretion. I had assured him that I was not one of those women who abuse the privilege… whipping out their maternal bounty in shopping malls, at ball fields, and in airport terminals. I just have to say it. To all nursing mothers everywhere… Not everyone adheres to the motto that “breast is best” in public settings. Please be considerate of the innocent passerby who glances in your feeding direction and gets more than they bargained for especially if that passerby is of the male persuasion. There I said it. I understand that from mama’s point of view, she has gone from 9 months of feeling about as sexy as Aunt Jemima to feeling like Pamela Anderson from the chest up, and it is tempting to want to share her voluptuousness with the rest of the class. But on behalf of the non-lactating community, please…. Cover those things up! Well, I guess it serves me right. I certainly took a tumble off my soap box evidenced by my Janet Jackson escapade over Mexican food. Do you think this has anything to do with why Miguel didn’t charge us for the guacamole?

I would love to hear some of your most “revealing” nursing experiences.