Yes. I am one of those moms. The breastfeeding moms. The type to whip the ladies out at any time. Modesty isn't a huge deal for me in these instances, but, springs of milk gushing FROM MY SHIRT, are. It was pure drama!
I got up at the butt crack of dawn to make sure we were on time for a family gathering. You know parents need at least 7 extra hours to be prepared for an event. Anyhoo, we got ourselves together, rushed out, and still arrived...late. Go figure!
Big cub was more excited than a mouse in a cheese factory! She was happy to see family and packing a mighty appetite. Lil cub did not take the nap (on the road) that I was praying she would. And because I was in my crazed-mommy state of mind, I forgot to nurse her before going inside. Big mistake. Big. Huge. (You liked that Pretty Woman reference didn't cha?) So off we went into the restaurant. Mind you, lil cub was already fussy and whining but ->THIS<- mom still didn't get the hint! More like the apocalyptic warnings.
Family members greeted us and took over the handling of big cub. I was pushing lil cub in the stroller and going down the line to place my order. Midway, I moved my hand on the stroller handle and felt wetness. Wetness for any mom, brings up the WTF thought and the expression that follows! I looked down to see a spring of milk POURING from my shirt! There was enough to fill 80 bowls of cereal and to provide half of the people with their daily dose of Vitamin D. I could have turned that place into an indoor slip-n-slide! It was a pure fountain of youth and all one needed to partake was an eight ounce glass and the balls to approach me. I was mortified.
If that wasn't bad enough, I then cupped my boobs and held them like a horny, old man would. Don't ask how I know that. It's just a guess! Then I applied pressure to my nipples and tried tweeking them upward to shut off the flow of the pipes. Those of you who breastfeed know what I'm talking about.
In my mind, I was yelling "Dammit to hell! Please stop or kill me now!" In my heart, I was hoping that no one noticed. In reality, I was like a deer in headlights trying to move at zombie speed. I had no where to run because there were so many bodies in the way. And I honestly was afraid that people would follow the drips to chase me down and quench their thirst. Milk does go great with desserts. The nerve! The nightmare!
I eventually found a clearing and made a bee line for the restroom. I thought of yelling "FIRE!" just to make sure no one was in my way. My efforts to shut off the pipes had worked but my shirt was soaked. Luckily, the shirt was dark enough to hide the wetness. I bet you're wondering why I wasn't wearing bra pads. Truth is, I never do. I always forget them because I barely remember to put on a bra! So there ya have it.
At the table, I conversed with family as I attempted to taste my food. Lil cub had other plans for me. I honestly think she was angry that so much of her milk was wasted. That was the milk she was meant to consume before we ever entered the restaurant. She knew that. And now I know it. Back to the restroom I went to nurse her before her whimpers turned into shrieks. Minutes later we returned to the table, I took another bite, and she continued to whine. Remember that nap she didn't take in the car? Well, this was the evidence.
All in all, I had 3-4 bites of food, a sip of my drink, and a gazillion conversations cut short. I was READY for home. I was ready for dry clothing. I was in need of my BFF (Moscato) and a cookie. Lord knows, my belly needed food even if my mind didn't think so. It was time for my clan to hit the road and I didn't hesitate to round 'em up and head out. Goodbyes were dished with hugs, kisses, and big cub's pleas to go home with someone else for the day. If only. But then I would have to pick her up because the poor soul would be ready to send her back after an hour. Not many can handle her energy!
What was my lesson? To continue wearing bras? To wear my bra pads? To notice hunger cues and remember to nurse? Well I'm not completely incompetent! I just got caught slippin'. My lesson was simply this... Next time, stay my ass at home.
What sort of embarrassing "milk" tales do YOU have? Give me all the deets in the comments below! Before you leave, add your email so you don't miss a post. And be sure to keep up with all things Thriller Mom on Facebook as well. Thanks for reading!