Has this breastfeeding 'debate' been overblown?

I've been living half under a rock lately and have only caught glimpses of the apparently raging debate about public breastfeeding on social media (Twitter, Facebook and a couple of blogs). 
I suspect it's been overblown. 
Women who are tired of a lack of support for breastfeeding, including doing so in public, have answered back at their perceived critics. 
Which is like waving a red flag at a media that seems forever itching to paint women as irrational and reactionary shrews, always with a bee in our bonnets over something. And bingo, a war of words is born. 
So I'm going to add some of my words to the war.
* I breastfeed in public and while have had a few awkward moments, have never been stigmatised. For which I'm grateful. I've even nursed at the local pool and no one batted an eye, as far as I could tell. 
* However should anyone feel offended by me doing so, tough luck. You don't like it, look away. 
* Breastfeeding is an inherently discreet exercise. After a brief and essentially unavoidable flash of skin the baby's head covers any 'scary' bits. I don't dispute claims some mothers flaunt themselves but really cannot believe this happens much at all, let alone at alarming levels. I've never seen it. 
* Having said all that, these days I often do go somewhere private to feed. Not because I'm uncomfortable, but because it doesn't take long for babies to become enormous stickybeaks. My daughter has the sense - unlike some in the community, it seems - to realise there are far more interesting things to look at than my boobs, and so we find a place where she can focus on the job at hand. 

If people are uncomfortable with mothers breastfeeding in public, fair enough. They probably can't help it. But they need to learn to live with it. And asking us to 'calm down, all we want is for you to be discreet' is unfair because it implies we are irrational (which we aren't) and that we are deliberately indiscreet (which, in my experience, we aren't). 

Who wears short shorts? I do, provided no one sees me

God bless Coolgardie and its bush tracks. I've posted a couple of times about why I love living in this little town (here and here). But I also love how you can go for a walk along the edge of town and not see anyone. Or, more importantly, have no one see you. 
This is particularly handy when I look a right fright because I am wearing either 
A) ill-fitting shorts from not just the pre-baby age, but way back from the pre-65kg+ Emma era; or
B) baby vomit, and very likely also some kind of kitchen leftovers, be it last night's dinner or baking mess; or
C) panda eyes. Mascara doesn't come off very well when all you tackle it with is a quick scrub in the shower; or 
D) some combination of a, b and c. 
It also means my dogs can poop in the bush and I don't have to worry about anyone frowning at me, or cleaning it from my back yard. (Please don't mention this to council.)

Not my actual lower half. In fact,
I don't think this lower half even
belongs to a human.
Image source.

My actual lower half.

But should anyone see you, one thing you must not do is refuse to wave. Chances are you know each other, and if you don't wave they'll probably think you're a snooty cow. They won't realise you're hiding your head in shame and pretending you haven't been caught wearing shorts that should have last seen the light of day when Kevin Rudd was in charge of the ALP. 
As you can tell, it's all glamour out here. Just the way I like it. 

Is finding exercise gear that is comfortable and suitable for public consumption tricky for you too? Or do you look like you've just stepped out of a Lorna Jane ad?

Update: Summer has forced me to fork out for membership at the local air conditioned gym. As im more likely to encounter others there I invested in some longer though not much more flattering shorts. I decided if I scare anyone they'll just have to live with it.  

Linking up with Jess from Essentially Jess for I Blog on Tuesdays. Thanks Jess. 

A lifetime ago

Rosie as a newborn in May last year. Mere months, yet a lifetime, ago.
Taken on an Olympus E30 and edited with Photoshop CS5.

Gateway

Taken at Twin Falls, Kakadu National Park, with a Pentax K20D
and edited with Photoshop CS5.

Hottest of the hot updates

I fully expected to get jack of the constant Facebook and Twitter updates about the heat earlier this week. Kind of like these people:

The wisest course of action would have been to not log on. But how boring would that have been?
As it turned out, my social media feed was quite entertaining.
So, my favourites from Twitter:

And this was shared by Jasmine on Facebook:

See? Hilarious! Bring on the next heatwave. (No, really, don't.)

Wordless Wednesday - My little sun seeker

Rosie prepares to destroy a castle during our trip to  Cape Arid NP.

Once again, linking up with the amazing Trish from My Little Drummer Boys (check her blog and you'll see why she's amazing) for Wordless Wednesday again. Thanks Trish!

Conversation off the menu

Life is always more romantic in cartoon-world.
Image from Dreamstime

They say communication is the key to a healthy relationship. Yet it seems verbal communication, at least, can vary in importance, depending on your relationship stage. 
For example, one couple on our street recently jetted off on a child-free holiday (lucky devils). Value of conversation during holiday: pretty high, I imagine. 
While they're away their 18-year-old daughter has the place to herself. And every time I've stickybeaked happened to be going by I've noticed her boyfriend's car in the drive (lucky young devils). Value of conversation there: a secondary consideration, surely. 
While they are all, presumably, revelling in their rare together-aloneness, I've had a couple of days of revelling in plain aloneness. Well, relative aloneness - I've Rosie, of course, and my mum is visiting. But with my husband away for a few days, my nights have been pleasantly peaceful. And I've spent pretty much zero time in the kitchen. Bonus!
Can you tell we're the ones with the married-for-a-decade-and-now-there's-a-baby relationship? No young love here, folks. Nor second-honeymoon romance yet, either. Value of conversation to us: meh, we can talk later. 
Which is just as well when it comes to things like anniversaries. Of which our 11th is approaching. I have vague plans to celebrate with dinner and a movie. Because we do enjoy each other's company. Really. 
Not that you'd think so if you spotted us out at a nice restaurant. We'd be the couple barely looking at each other and - yep - speaking even less. Even though it's the perfect place for meaningful discussion. 
This is due to my husband loving his food and being an avid people watcher. Deploying the 'men can't multitask' argument, he claims tucking into a seafood buffet while eyeballing other diners is as much as he can handle. 
I've long since accepted that eating out means eating in silence. And why complain, really? After all, I still get to enjoy the novelty of wearing nice shoes and having someone else cook dinner. I can talk to him the other 364 nights of the year. 

Is conversation important in your house? Do you get it when you go out?

Linking up with Jess from Essentially Jess for I Blog on Tuesdays. Thanks Jess. 

Cruel summer Pt II

Taken by J Gadsby (my mum) in central NSW with an Olympus E30 and edited with Photoshop Elements.

Cruel summer

Taken with iPhone and edited with Photoshop CS5.

Husky

Taken in central NSW with a Pentax K20D and edited in Photoshop CS5.

A very goldfields Christmas. Alternatively titled: holiday season wrap up

Hoping everyone had a lovely Christmas/New Year and 2013 is going well so far. Here's a wrap-up of our festive season, in point form and pics:

* Christmas Eve: proceedings started off a little bit glam, at least as far as my feet were concerned. I wore these pretty heels out to dinner with my sister and her work mates. We had a great time, save for one slightly embarrassing moment when Rosie swiped a piece of garlic bread out of a girl's hand and shoved it in her gob. By the end of the week my feet were much less glamorous thanks to the polish being chipped and the skin stained by sun, sand and dirt. 

* Christmas Day: Was a fantastic day. Was the first time I've had it with my family in several years, and of course was Rosie's first ever, so it was a special time. She especially liked the wrapping paper and ribbons. I especially liked the wine. Paul especially liked the dessert selection.

* The following week: Was beach time! We headed south with my parents to the Esperance region for a week of seaside camping. As did about half of the rest of WA - we picked one of the more remote sites (Seal Creek campsite in Cape Arid National Park) and even it was full for most of our stay. 

Highlights included the stunning beaches, hooking a tasty mulloway that fed us for two nights (Paul's efforts), a couple of hours all to myself one morning while the others went to the beach, a reprieve from the heat of the goldfields and the general lazing about one does while on holidays. Rosie took to camping quite well and was keen to sample the local fare: 

I think someone's been watching too many survival shows on the
Discovery Channel with daddy.

Lowlights included a) getting bogged in the sand and b) getting bogged in the sand. This was all Paul's fault of course - he was driving - but he felt so foolish I didn't even really have the option of properly berating him. He particularly felt like a grade A buffoon when we'd walked part of the way back to camp and upon leaving the soft sand part for the gravel road part he realised he'd left his shoes at the floundering ute. He soldiered on until he could go no further and dived off the road onto his back, his smoking feet waggling in the air like those of an upturned turtle. 
Lowlight #2 was finding a live ginormous biggish spider in our tent when we packed up. Not sure I'll ever feel secure in that tent again. 

Then we came home to 45+ degree weather and the cool sea breezes and frigid ocean (it was so bloody cold it took me to the last day to work up to having a swim) seemed like a distant memory. It was worth it though to be back to a sand-free bed in a spider-free room. 

How was your Christmas season? Do anything exciting?