My babies

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Six nurses

This particular story might be mildly embarrassing to my cousin Grace's two kids, E and G. It shouldn't be. It really is the backdrop to some of the language we use in our house so I am obligated to put it in.

Like Grace, I'm a proponent of breastfeeding as long as the child wants to have it. I never had the weaning horrors that some people go through. And I know that I'm totally blessed to have had the opportunity and family support to allow my kids to self wean. For my kids, they nursed about 2 years, which means that they were talking some before they stopped breastfeeding. Grace's kids were at the breast a year or two longer. I applaud her patience and devotion to nursing them. (Look at me trying to be all diplomatic against the people who would judge breastfeeding kids. Oh, get over yourself if it is a problem for you. Breasts make food for babies. The perfect food for babies. So there.)

Grace and her husband Jim tell a story about a friend of theirs who breast fed their kids after the kids started speaking. Their friend's child was running around in toddler fashion, and when he became thirsty, he went up to his mother and asked, "Boob?"

From that moment on, Grace and Jim vowed never to be asked for boobs (especially in public) by a hungry child. Instead they taught their kids to refer to their milk dispensers as "nurses." That way if the child wanted to eat, she'd simply ask ,"nurse?" How sweet is that?

The age difference between Grace's two kids is about 8 years, so when G was 4 or 5, E was just starting out that wonderful phase of life:  puberty. Imagine her horror when her little brother inadvertently walked in on her taking a shower and G ran off to report to his parents that E indeed had nurses too! (okay, that last bit wasn't probably necessary to tell my story but still funny, right?)

The lesson from those two stories stuck with Hubby and me, especially when we had our son. We did not want our precious boy's first word to be "boobs." We made a decision to copy Grace and Jim's example and refer to my breasts as nurses.

It's been a word we've used ever since we became parents and it is fully entrenched in our lives. I suppose it can be confusing considering how many registered nurses we have in our family. Amongst my first cousins, I think we have a total of 10. We are a good Filipino family that way -- we make quality health care professionals -- we love our nurses.

The other day, my mother was remarking about how her brother Efren, who spent most of his adult life working in Hawaii and sending money back home for his family in the Philippines, was able to send 6 of his kids to college for their degrees in nursing.

My mom said, "Can you believe your Uncle Efren has six nurses?"

I said, "Wow, that's really impressive."

Lil'T looked absolutely flummoxed. "Uncle Efren has six nurses?!? What the hoonies???" (hoonies = heck for preschoolers)

It took me a beat to realize that Lil'T was trying to figure out how Uncle Efren had so many breasts under his shirt. How the heck did he get the bras? Must be a Costco pack. And since when did men have breasts like Holly our dog? Oh so confusing!

Maybe we ought to refer to breasts as boobs after all.