My [un]glamorous night out
Last night the company my husband works for had their annual anniversary dinner. A couple thousand people show up to this thing, so it's held in the Alliant Energy Center, one of those giant buildings made out of concrete that hosts events like rock concerts, agricultural shows and Stars on Ice (yes, I went to that once and Michelle Kwan was excellent, thankyouverymuch). The anniversary dinner as a shindig is a rather ho-hum affair. The food's decent, but they serve only non-alcoholic beverages and the entertainment consists mainly of a speech by the CEO, employee awards, and skits with numberous references to Star Trek/Wars and Bill Gates (did I mention that this is a software company? Ergo geek humor). So even though the dinner was free, it didn't seem worth getting a babysitter. Stuart's co-workers were all eager to see the baby anyway, so we said "Oh, we'll just bring him along. No big deal."
Well.
Taking a three-month-old into a room full of thousands of people, flashing lights and constant speeches just an hour before his bedtime--Is. Not. Smart. He was okay for about 20 minutes and then "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I attempted to nurse. It worked for about 10 minutes and then, "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" again. I had to take him out to the gigantic concrete lobby and walk him around. Eventually he calmed down so I took him back in to the dining area. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I attempted to nurse again. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I went out to the lobby again so that he wouldn't bother everyone else, and ended up walking halfway across the building just to find a place to sit down so I could nurse him. When I finally sat down, I realized that the baby, in all his fussing and wriggling, had managed to work open every button on my shirt except the middle one. Not only that, but when he was nursing, his little hand was clenching the other side of my shirt and holding it open so that everyone walking by who inquired about the whereabouts of the bathroom got a full view.
Oh well. I figure that when I gave birth, I checked my modesty at the door and never bothered to reclaim it.
Well.
Taking a three-month-old into a room full of thousands of people, flashing lights and constant speeches just an hour before his bedtime--Is. Not. Smart. He was okay for about 20 minutes and then "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I attempted to nurse. It worked for about 10 minutes and then, "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" again. I had to take him out to the gigantic concrete lobby and walk him around. Eventually he calmed down so I took him back in to the dining area. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I attempted to nurse again. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I went out to the lobby again so that he wouldn't bother everyone else, and ended up walking halfway across the building just to find a place to sit down so I could nurse him. When I finally sat down, I realized that the baby, in all his fussing and wriggling, had managed to work open every button on my shirt except the middle one. Not only that, but when he was nursing, his little hand was clenching the other side of my shirt and holding it open so that everyone walking by who inquired about the whereabouts of the bathroom got a full view.
Oh well. I figure that when I gave birth, I checked my modesty at the door and never bothered to reclaim it.
Comments
Suze, actually, I had a little question for you. I'm interested in starting my own blog and wondered if you'd have an advice, tips, or words of caution for me as a blogger.
Thanks a million,
Mamacita
I've only been blogging for a little less than a month, so I don't have loads of tips for you. I haven't even bothered to learn enough html to provide links to other stuff on my blog (though I plan to do that eventually). I guess I would advise that you not allow anonymous comments or you might get a bunch of spam-like adverts on the comments roll.
Good luck, and I can't wait to read it!
Suze