Nurse Boom Boom

(In which I steal an old post from my early days of blogging to lighten the mood after my most recent Mother’s Day post)

I used to have a pretty definite opinion on parenting.
Then I had kids.
I still have to watch my attitude and judgments and words like “never”. There are some things I’m very passionate about when it comes to my kids and “never” fits in once in a while. But now I realize I cannot be hard on other parents’ decisions. I firmly believe God is in control. He chose me to be mom to my girls.
He chose that silly lady that I disagree with on “google” to be the mom to her kids.
While I don’t agree with all parenting styles, on non-dangerous issues I believe it’s time for moms to quit being so darn hard on each other. Myself included.
That being said, I have to share the funniest story from yesterday. Please know I am not trying to judge this mom, but her story just has me giggling.
I took Fo to the dr yesterday for many things and while there I wanted to ask his advice about weaning her.
That’s right. Still nursing. And, FYI, those happy feelings you get while nursing? They have dried up…very much unlike my milk. Moving on…
While weighing Fo Bear, I mentioned to the nurse my questions about weaning. Here is the story:
Nurse: “Wean? Oh, from Boom Boom?” Now, I don’t know about you, but when another woman says boom boom in reference to her chest I can’t help myself, I peek.
Wow. Boom Boom, indeed.
I glanced down at my own chest and thought, If we have to teach Fo to call nursing something, it would be more along the lines of beep beep…in a very high pitched voice.
Ehem.
I tried to then focus on what Nurse Boom Boom was saying.
“Oh, honey,” she waved her hand dismissively, “my daughter didn’t wean until she was two!”
I gulped and looked at Fo in great fear for just a moment.
“In fact, she still wakes up in the morning – she sleeps with me – and lifts my shirt to talk to Boom Boom. She holds it and says, ‘I love you Boom Boom.'”
I blushed and mentally used my sarcasm to thank Nurse Boom Boom for that lovely mental picture. I was unaware of the next one she would paint for me:
“She still rubs Boom Boom like a bear or blanket to fall asleep.”
Me “Oh. Well, um, well…”
More things were said about being divorced and men having to get through the now 2*1/2 year old to get to her, but I’ll spare you.
As I spent the rest of the day with my Little Miss (the same age as the Boom Boom girl) and Fo, my mind was working overtime to save us from any “beep beep” stories in the future.

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