Moms Who Breastfeed: Please Stop.

This might be a personal missive, I’m not sure yet, so before you get your pitchforks and torches out, know that I’m writing this with love…and mostly to my two breastfeeding sister-in-laws. Look, ladies (gives SIL’s a stern look), I love that you breastfeed. I am all for you popping those big ol’ mama jamas out in public whenever you want. Hell, if I could get away with popping MY big ol’ mama jamas out in public, I’d TOTES DO IT. I am 100% team breastfeed (or bottle feed, whatever is best for you and baby). This is NOT a post about that. No. This is a post about all the weirdo things you (again, gives her SIL’s a look) do that are so gross that I can’t even. I. Can’t. Even. So, moms who breastfeed: please stop doing the following five things…

Moms Who Breastfeed: Please Stop.

1. Drinking your own breastmilk – I know you say it tastes good, and you can quote a bazillion statistics why drinking cow milk is worse…but I’ve never had a conversation with that cow. I don’t have to think about her bodily fluids sloshing over my tongue and wonder if her baby is giving me a dirty look because it doesn’t like me, or if it knows I’m drinking it’s food supply…

2. Eating breastmilk popsicles – Again, pretty much same as above. And before you say it’s natural, organic, healthy…so is sperm. But I can’t – I CAN’T imagine people eating spermsicles, either.

3. Breastmilk coffee – Moms. Why are you ruining literally my favorite thing in the world? Do you know that now every single time I come to your houses, I bring my own? I shouldn’t have to say this, but please stop trying to get me to taste you.

4. Human cheese – It’s a thing. I looked it up. And whilst I don’t think anyone I know has attempted making it yet, I’m keeping a wary eye on the buffet table at family get-togethers all the same.

5. Squirting me – This one really is aimed squarely at my SIL’s. Your breastmilk is not a weapon. That look of horror on my face is real. Let’s just make a pact right now: you stop threatening to squirt me with boob-juice, I won’t pee on you. Fair enough?

So, ultimately these are all problems with me and I get that. And you certainly don’t have to stop doing any of that, but just know that the barfing noises I’m making under my breath as you tell me about your breastcapades are not me dismissing your right to feed, but rather me being grossed out by human fluids in general.

Seriously, if you want to run around a field buck-naked, squirting milk at each other while singing “We Are The Champions” at the top of your lungs, go for it. But don’t be offended when I don’t trust the queso you bring to family dinners…

Also, I know you probably think I’m crazy and that none of this is a thing. But it is. IT. IS. Here’s just one site about alternate uses for breast milk of about a million…