A few weeks ago, Facebook announced that it now allows photos of women breastfeeding …
“We agree that breastfeeding is natural and beautiful and we’re glad to know that it’s important for mothers to share their experiences with others on Facebook.”
I have a problem with this. And it’s not breastfeeding in public. It’s food on Facebook. Why do we all need to see what everybody’s eating? Granted, there are people eating some interesting food, presented in unique ways, in some beautiful cities. But all those pictures do is make me try to guess the calorie count.
I get it. You ate today. So did I. It was a tuna salad sandwich on wheat with a slice of tomato. But even if I caught the blue fin tuna myself, fresh out of Cape Hatteras, and then gutted, glazed and grilled it, I wouldn’t put it on Facebook.
Because it’s food. Not face. The photo-op in that scenario is me reeling in a blue fin tuna. Or me being in the Outer Banks at all. Not a picture of the tuna next to a big slab of mashed potatoes for all my Facebook friends to ask, “Does Tracy really need those potatoes …?”
And why is it important to share your feeding experience? I don’t have a problem with public breastfeeding. I did it too, and once actually ran across a park, baby still attached, to recount to three firefighters a monkey bar accident, while breastfeeding my son with my shirt slung up over my head.
Did I need a picture of it? Not necessarily. Maybe to prove our firefighters have excellent eye contact, but other than that, it wasn’t a feeding experience I wanted to share.
Nor were any of them. I was always flustered, hot and sweaty, and unable to get in the right position. Beautiful, I was not.
And it wasn’t natural. I had to plan it to make it go right. I even had a tray with everything I would need: a clock, a burp towel, a sprite for my nausea, the TV remote, and the phone to call somebody to bring me mashed potatoes while I switched over to the pump.
Not picture perfect. In fact, I gotta give it to the women posting their pictures on Facebook where they look fresh and rested – like they just swept into the nursery in their white cotton sheath nightgown, scooped up the baby, and settled into a nice soft pillow together. Ahhh. Now that’s nice.
I guess if I had a photo of that versus my game of “which cup is the baby under” with the Charlotte Fire Department, I’d post that too. So maybe I’m jealous. It’s too late for me to post Facebreasting pictures, but it’s not too late for those blue fin tuna pix.
Now to get to the Cape …
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