Amazonian

Lyla went to her first wedding today. New baby + new camera = me not paying attention. Here the music is lulling Lyla. I have no idea why her eyes are brown in this picture. They are decidedly blue in real life.


And she's out, sleeping in church just like Homer Simpson, and with the same hairstyle.

The reception was in the lower part of the church, a fantastic venue actually, unlike most church basements. We were seated in the back, conveniently close to the nursery. They also stored the extra beverages and ice in the nursery, so when I changed Lyla's diaper in there, I found an empty ice bag and stuffed it with the diaper and wipes, and then tossed the thing in the trash under some child's discarded drawings. Is that wrong? Are we supposed to be like hard-core backpackers and take our waste home with us?

They had a rocker in the nursery, too, so you'd think it would make the perfect breastfeeding location. But Julie, with a fervor reminiscent of 1960s bra burners, decided she preferred to feed Lyla right at the table, damn it. Dinner was over, no one was watching, and she had a blanket, a lovely assistant, and a hungry baby.

"But the nursery?" I said.

"Shh. Hold the blanket."

At this point the newlyweds said on the microphone that they would be announcing who was at each table, just highlights to acknowledge the different people in their life.

Nobody paid any attention to us as the newlyweds spoke about each table. We were table 14 anyway, so certainly Julie would be done by then. But when they got to table 12, Julie moved to switch Lyla to the other side.

"Um, holy shit," I whispered. "They're almost to our table."

"So?"

"You could do the other side when they're done."

"Nobody's going to know."

Who was this Amazonian turbo-mom? Certainly not the same woman who just days earlier wondered if she would ever breastfeed in public.

I pictured the worst possible scenario: Lyla dislodging and Julie's breast shooting a milk arc across the room and into the bride's mouth. But they got to table 14 and it was over just like that. Nobody even noticed. The people at our own table had no idea what was going on even though to me Lyla's gulping sounded like the tell-tale heart.

Later in the car, I asked Julie what had inspired her to risk public lewdness at a wedding reception.

"Lyla was hungry, and I didn't want to miss anything. Besides, I just shove her under the blanket and she latches on. What's your problem?"

Hmm. Julie has gotten better at it. Lyla has gotten better at it. I guess it's time that I get better at it too.