Each week we will attempt to bring you the unbiased, unedited points-of-view of a bonafide, ginuwine Park Slope Breeder (mom/dad) and a real deal, smokin, sexin, drinkin Park Slope Baller (child free-n-lovin it) on a variety of topics. Identities will remain anonymous, of course, to protect the soon-to-be lynched.
BALLER:
Despite the fact that I'm a BALLER thru-n-thru, I *do* try to remind myself to get into the headspace of u BREEDERS when I'm writing this shit up. It's important...and makes me less of an asshole...so I step to it when I can. But, daym this week was hard.
First I had to get myself into the headspace of imagining that I had kids = nearly impossible, but if I was a bazillionaire, had many servants, and was a way nicer person, maybe.
Ok, then I had to get into the headspace of imagining that I needed to breastfeed this imaginary kid = almost entirely fucking impossible. If I ever did have a kid (which I won't), I'm pretty sure I'd want to get all Brangelina and adopt one. This, of course means that I almost definitely wouldn't have a baby. And even if I did, I wouldn't breastfeed someone else's biological baby and this whole point would be moot, but ohhhhkaaaay, I'll go there.
THEN, I had to get myself into the headspace of imagining that IF I had this imaginary baby, and IF I gave birth to it, and in some sort of Freaky Friday sitch I lost all my faculties and turned into a super caring, nurturing mom who decided I wanted to breastfeed this baby, I would then choose to do all this breastfeeding with my titties hanging out, like nothing at all was up, at Sotto Vocce, with some eggs benedict, on a Sunday morn.
And this, my BREEDER bud is where you totally fucking lose me.
Now this week's rant is not gonna be at awl about whether or not you have the right to sit at Sotto Vocce with your titties hangin out, breastfeedin your bebe, eatin eggs benedict on Sunday morn if you so choose. I fully support your right to do that...I just don't get why the hell you would *want* to do it.
I read a lot of blogs, and websites and magazines and newspapers and such, so I understand that the collective scientific and psychological opinion of all those in the know is that breastfeeding is better for the baby. No problemo. It would just be way too much of a pain in the ass for me, and the situation above is a perfect example of why. I like to go out with friends...and see exhibits at museums...and other such BALLER activities. I would literally last one day. So, I've got nothing but mad respect for women who make that commitment and decide that breastfeeding their bebe's is an A#1 priority.
What I don't understand is why on earth you would want to do this out in the open, in front of me, Pslope nonmom, haikusue, the FooL and all our other BALLER friends. I don't care how "normal" and "natural" it is, it's YOUR TIT....in MY FACE. Taking a dump is normal and natural too, but I don't do it in front of you as you're innocently polishing off your bagel and lox. Menstruating is hella normal, but I'm not popping in a new tampon whilst you sip on your chai, no whip, decaf latte.
And you know what, even if it WAS ok, I still wouldn't be doing it. Cause the only person that gets to see my tits and my cooch is my husband.
I mean, can you honestly tell me that you are totally comfortable and relaxed and engaged in normal "let's talk about Obama's new cabinet" conversations with your tits hanging out in front of everyone? Because I gu-AIR-ohn-tee that all the people you are having that convo with are sitting there the whole time jus sayin in their heads "DON'T LOOK AT HER TITS, DON'T LOOK AT HER TITS, DON'T LOOK...[SHITFUCKOHGODAMMIT! I JUST LOOKED AT HER TITS]...I WONDER IF ANYONE SAW THAT...CAUSE I SO HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THIS BITCH IS SAYIN AND IF ANYONE ASKS ME RIGHT NOW...[OHFUUUUUCK! I JUST LOOKED AGAIN].
I just don't get why it doesn't make sense to excuse yourself for 15 mins...and go breastfeed in the bathroom...or the car...or some place else that doesn't require me catchin a flash of your nip?
In summary BREEDER, I really don't give a shit that you breastfeed in public...I just don't know why the fuck you would want to?
BREEDER:
Jesus I'm tired, and this isn't helping. It's beyond futile to write to women like you, because I already know that you'll look at what I write but you won't read it. My letter is a chuck-e-cheese rockclimbing wall, and every point I make is just a styrofoam protrusion for you to grab onto to pull yourself up.
I'll write anyway, in case someone else reads it.
Breastfeeding in public is like the tearing of my vagina while I was giving birth. My husband tells me, "You TORE so much - that must have been the WORST PART!" I said babe, I literally couldn't feel it. I was already in such a worldbending redefininition of pain, that what would normally KILL didn't even register.
Same thing with breastfeeding - sure, in isolation, it's embarrassing to think of showing your tit in public. But with the insanity of sleep depravation, constant crying, eradication of my own feminine needs and identity - it's an imperceptible degradation in a sea of lifestyle suicide.
You think I want to breastfeed in public specifically, or have any energy to consider whether anyone might be offended by the sight of my breast? I'm exhausted, and I couldn't care less. Feeding is automatic and obvious. Baby crying, I must feed. If baby eating, mommy allowed eat.
I HAVE NO PEACE OR PRIVACY OR FREEDOM unless my child is asleep or feeding. When he feeds for a few minutes in a restaurant, it means I'm allowed to eat for a couple of minutes and pretend I'm still a person. You want me to spend that time in a disgusting purity diner bathroom? This is one of my few windows into sanity - please don't fuck with it.
Gimme a break: You're not offended, you're just playing kitschy devil's advocate from a Sex and the City perspective. Back off and bear with me for a few more months.
Effed in Park Slope | 
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