My New Breast Friends

Yesterday, two of my friends treated me to lunch for my birthday. When they first asked me about it, I was so excited! Birthdays are a huge deal in my family (read: my family of origin), so it's hard to be this far from home knowing that I probably won't have a party thrown for me. I always make sure that my husband and kids are showered with attention, a party and gifts, but it's just the way it goes that darling J will not be planning a party for me. I'm not complaining, it just serves to drive the point home that I'm across the Nation from my family and friends...until now. (Lest you think I'm saying that my husband doesn't properly acknowledge my birthday, he brought a birthday cake home from work with him, in addition to gifts he'd purchased and cards signed by both H and himself before my birthday.)

It's been a year, and this is the second birthday I've celebrated in the Commonwealth. I was emailing my Godmother a thank you for her e-card (that's appropriate, yes? e for e...) and telling her that I was going to lunch with two of my girlfriends and our eight children. I re-calculated that in my head and realized that yes, we were taking EIGHT children to a nice, sit-down restaurant. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, it actually went much better than expected, aside from H tossing my sunglasses over his head, which then landed in the plate of the customer behind us...awesome. I was not impressed with his behavior and I told him as much, but there's only so much physical violence that can be threatened without actually being carried out before your kid realizes you're full of shit.

The pièce de résistance came when Baby C made it very clear he was awake and not going to wait to eat, necessitating the oh-so-awesome nursing at the table. I don't mind nursing in public, but I don't use a blanket over his head, so a little skin does show. (I do have a bebe au lait nursing cover on order, but it hasn't yet arrived.) Just at the moment of latch, the staff of the restaurant arrived at the table to sing Happy Birthday and present me with my oh-so-yummy dessert. I'm sure the waiters were thrilled to see my giant areola. I know all the kids at the table were.

All I can say is that for the number of kids we had, and the adult to child ratio, we did amazingly well. Nobody was injured, no tables overturned, no large fits. And, I was treated to lunch, an awesome dessert, and time with my friends...Happy Birthday to Me!