A couple weeks ago, Smarty Boy and I stopped by a local shopping center to grab some frozen yogurt and a rotisserie chicken (not to be eaten at a single sitting). When we walked back to the parking lot to find the infamous SmartCar, a large van–like those mobile pet washing gigs–cruised through. It was brightly painted and lettered. But it was not a pet taxi, a senior citizen shuttle or a traveling library.
It was a mobile breastfeeding operation.
A rolling lactation station.
Huh?
I pulled this info about the company from their online site: “My Nursing Coach—the first mobile breastfeeding center, where new moms can experience a private lactation consultation and breastfeeding education right outside their front door.”
Hey, I’m all for breastfeeding if it works out for a new mother. If you’re not the breastfeeding kind, though, I’m not going to throw banana peels at you. To each her own.
Having had my share of problems with Smarty Boy when he was an infant, I can appreciate help with the breastfeeding process. I just wondered about where this nursing coach travels and exactly what happens inside there. I wondered if this was a response to a lack of private public nursing venues. I have to admit I hate the thought of new moms sitting on public restroom toilets nursing their babies. Yes, it’s a bit of a private process, but can’t we do better than that.
Well, I guess we have, in a way.
I like to call the it the Boobmobile.
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Today is National Martini Day. As much as I’d love to think of myself as suave and sophisticated, the taste of traditional martinis gives me the blergggs. Now, we’ve invented all types of flavors: pomegranate, chocolate, hazelnut and many other. Regardless, I stay far away from a drink with that much alcohol in that small a glass.
