oh, bitch please
***This lovely bit of idiocy brought to you by morgangallagher.***


dear booj,

Should women who choose to breastfeed their walking, talking children compare that shit to Rosa Parks? Edit: Dammit, now she's deleted. Ah well. The stupid remains.

Seriously. Sticking your titty in your kids' mouths for a long time does not make you a civil rights activist.

I've c&p'd the interesting part (her post is long and wordy and blah blah blah blah):

I realised every time I nursed my toddler in public, I was indeed acting like Rosa Parks.  And if approached to put a blanket on my head, I would indeed 'do a Rosa Parks' and refuse to give up my seat!  Let them throw me off the bus!  Me and my seat on the bus were staying put - I'd nurse my toddler on the damn bus.

As soon as I thought it - another phrase slipped into my mind: please don't throw me off the bus.  Don't put me through it.  Don't make me feel bad.  I may not be as strong as Rosa with my child in my arms.  I may be prepared for it to happen every time my child nurses, but that don't mean I want it to.


Boob "nazis" need to run some serious damage control - one of your bitches has lost her ever-lovin mind.

Edit: Apparently she cross-posted the bullshit. Thanks, gingersomething.  Awww, breastfeeding got all cracked areola on us and BALEETED.


Also, this paragraph? It's weird as hell and I don't care what any of you have to say about it. Does she write bad breastfeeding fanfic on purpose?

Last night, the fever started.  His nose started streaming and he was coughing and sneezing.   Between 10pm and midnight, a very unwell little boy emerged from my bouncing toddler.  At 4am, a screaming, terrifed, shrieking baby was in my arms, crying.  Can't breath properly, burning up with fever, helpmehelpmhelpmhelpme cries.  So I helped.  I did what I've been doing for hours - I held him and I nursed.  I poured perfect rehydration fluids and perfect sick boy nutrition into his body.  As it was taken down into him, it flooded him with anti-bodies to whatever bug he had, as my adult body has been making them in response, unnoticed, since he picked up the bug in the first place.  I also soothed his soul, as he fought to clear the mucous in his nose so he could still nurse: I soothed his distress and told him he was important enough to have this primal comfort.  The skin contact, the act of suckling, flooded his mind and body with opiates, and he calmed.  As he calmed, the act of suckling him flooded my brain with chemicals that aided me: I coped better with the lack of sleep, my blood pressure reduced and my general feeling of wellness increased.  The distress cycle between us was buffered by chemcial interaction on both sides, and we both felt happier. 

Jeez, lady, just get a dildo.