There really isn’t! I don’t think I have ever believed in a truer statement than the one above. Well, that statement and “Joy Cometh in the Morning,” which runs a very close second. And boy was I joyful when I woke up in my own bed this morning. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy my vacation adventure this past week, it’s just that I missed the comforts and rituals of my own home. I guess “you never know what you’ve got until it’s gone,” yet another true statement.
So Zoe and I decided to go on a vacation to D.C to visit family and peruse living history. We lodged with our family there, and as always my extended family was more than hospitable. Their house was always stocked with food, we had homemade dinners and were even treated to an expensive dinner. We had our own room and were pretty much chauffeured here and there at a moments notice. Zoe was able to hang out with her twin cousins and Yo Gabba Gabba was on repeat.
It was a great time, but the only thing missing, which is of course no fault of our wonderful hosts, was that it wasn’t our home. Which isn’t too difficult to believe because…well… it really wasn’t. This realization was most apparent when it came time to nurse Zoe.
Zoe was constantly in the dark under a black polyester/felt cape that we’ll just call “Betsy.” Betsy was in full use during our 7 day excursion whether in the coolness of the house or under the 95 degree blistering sun. On a few occasions (and by few I mean nearly ALL), Zoe decided to thrust her arms from under Betsy in hopes that she would escape the dark abyss. When her flailing arms were ushered back under, she’d then more forcefully thrust them back out and then dart her face from underneath for air. It was a constant battle and I was in total fear of being exposed. Although most folks might have had an idea that Zoe was nursing underneath (since her little feet were kicking about), I didn’t want them to have a “without a shout of a doubt” view! By the end of our trip I was ready to give Zoe whole milk, baked chicken, potatoes and veggies, anything to keep from pulling out Betsy!
Phew! But we made it home without a major fiasco. I’m no exhibitionist, but it sure is nice to be home where I can nurse openly. So far she has nursed in the bedroom, while I walked the halls and while hanging from the living room fan. Zoe is no longer in the milk dungeon, I no longer have the risk of PDB (public display of boobies) and neither of us is covered in sweat from Betsy’s polyester/felt material.
There’s no place like home…there’s no place like home…there’s no place like home, especially for a nursing Momma and her hungry baby cub.