Without a doubt, Margot’s favorite activity is reading.  Todd and I are somewhat ashamed to admit that we occasionally hide books from our sweet daughter after we’ve read them two dozen times and just can. not. stand. to go berserk one. more. time.

But, given her love for reading (and mine) it’s no surprise that one of our favorite places to spend time is at the library.  It doesn’t hurt, either, that our library happens to have an awesome children’s room full of toys and usually, also, other children.

On this particular evening, Margot and her Daddy took a trip to the happiest place on earth while Mama did some work at home.  Lucky for me (and you), because her Daddy always remembers to bring his good camera.

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It’s no small coincidence that the last blog entry I wrote was about how Margot gained mobility.  I’ve been chasing after her ever since.  Between a mobile baby, our summer schedule, and my new career path… I’ve been a busy little bee.

But, I’m not going to do that thing I always do where I apologize for my lack of posting, make excuses and then promise to post more often again… I’m here to talk about something totally different.  Can you guess what it is based on my title?


Margot has teeth.

Two of ’em.  Shiny white chompers.  I wasn’t ready for that.  Anytime Margot put anything in her mouth and people would comment, “Oh! Maybe she’s teething!” I would brush them off saying, “my mom said I didn’t have teeth till I was over 1 year old, so…. nope! No teeth here, thankyouverymuch!”

I really was NOT ready.  I thought I would have a little toothless baby for a while longer.  Then, I put my finger in her mouth for no apparent reason and… what’s this? Something sharp! A tooth! Oh my god, a tooth!!

I cried. And then the next day I looked in there to see if it had gone back in. It hadn’t.  I probably checked for three days before I really believed that my toothless baby was gone for good.

She’s growing up so fast. It’s such a cliche, but… oh boy… it’s true.  Wasn’t she a newborn just a few weeks ago? How could it be that 9 months have already passed?

The arrival of Margot’s teeth has stirred up a lot of emotions for me.  Her pearly whites have also inspired a lot of questions from loved ones and strangers alike.  Mostly, “Has she bit you yet?” and “So… when are you going to stop breastfeeding anyway?”

The answers are “no” and “when she’s ready.”


I admit that before I got pregnant I said, “I guess I’ll breastfeed my babies until they have teeth.” My mother kindly reminded me that some babies are born with teeth, and I shrugged my shoulders like, “I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

Then, I learned more about the benefits of breastmilk and I said, “I will breastfeed for at least 6 months.”

Then, I learned even more and 6 months turned into 1 year, which turned into 2 years.

Then, I started nursing my baby and 2 years turned into… “indefinite.”

I nurse Margot on demand.  When she wants milk, she gets it.  When she needs comfort, she gets it. When she needs help falling asleep, the boob is there. And that’s how we will continue until she no longer needs those things from me.  I do not know when that will be.  It could be when she’s 3 or 4 or 5 or I have no idea when.


Go ahead, tell me my baby will NEVER STOP breastfeeding. I’ve heard it.  I guess I’ll have to nurse her right before she walks down the aisle to get married and during her first day at a new job.

Or, tell me horror stories about babies who bite their mother’s nipples off, I love hearing about your neighbor’s best friend’s daughter who is now nippleless all because she tried to do what was best for her baby, the poor dear.

Or, just tell me I’m a hippie weirdo.  I’m pretty sure that ship sailed when we first started using our bath water to wash our laundry.

I’m not gonna lie, those comments usually piss me off or hurt my feelings, but if they do… I’ll just go cuddle up with my baby and nurse her until we both bliss out on oxytocin and love.

DSC_8407And seriously, guys, sorry I’ve been delinquent in blogging, I really will try to catch up…


I wish the blogging format on WordPress had a subtitle option for posts.  If it did the title of this post would have looked like this:


Or, why I post pictures of my boobs on Instagram

I’m going to talk about my boobs today.  You’ve been warned.  But, I urge you to read on… especially if the topic of my boobs makes you uncomfortable, because it’s you who has the most to gain from this post.

I breastfeed Margot.  I’ve talked about it on here, I’ve posted pictures of her eating on here, I do it freely in public, and I am passionate about it.  There are a lot of reasons that I chose to breastfeed and I feel very lucky that Margot and I have had success with breastfeeding. I am not going to talk about all of the reasons why I am breastfeeding her, because I think those are made abundantly clear, and if you’re unsure of the reasons, I would direct you to google to find out for yourself.  I am also (not now, not ever) going to make any disparaging remarks about formula.  I think formula is great for a lot of reasons, too.  I am making this disclaimer because the topic of breastfeeding is a contentious one, and I do not seek to offend or upset anyone with my opinions.  I’m not making any arguments in the “mommy wars”… I just want to talk about myself (isn’t that what blogs are for, anyhow??  To talk about one’s self?) and I also kind of want to defend all the boobie pictures I splash all over the internet.

If you are an occasional reader of this blog, or if you follow me on Instagram, or if you received a Christmas card from The Other Moores, you have seen at least one photo of me breastfeeding Margot. I take a lot of pictures of her breastfeeding when her and I are home alone because, well, that’s how we spend a lot of our time together.  And I really love it. And I think it’s beautiful.  I love when she looks up at me while she’s eating with her big blue-grey eyes.  Those are the moments that I don’t ever want to forget.

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She is beautiful.  Breastfeeding is beautiful.  And, more importantly, it’s normal.

This is the part where I get defensive.  I can not understand how the above photo is offensive to anyone in this age of abundant cleavage.  You are not seeing anything more than what you would see if I were wearing a bikini.  In fact, you’re seeing a lot less than if I were in a bikini.

Also, this photo was taken at home, where I freely whip my boobs out to feed my child (quelle horreur!) without any sort of discretion.

When I nurse in public, it looks a lot more like this:

Or like this:

Or, hey, here’s one more:


And on the topic of nursing in public (affectionately referred to as NIP)… I will continue to do it unapologetically.  I have nursed Margot in restaurants, walking through a store, on the train, anywhere and everywhere.  If I excused myself to a private space every time Margot wanted to eat I would never be in public.  And I also do it without a cover.  To me, it’s much easier (and a lot more discreet) to just lift up my shirt and latch her on at the first sign that she wants to eat.  In defense of NIP, I have often seen this quote “If you’re offended by public breastfeeding, you’re looking too closely.”  I think that really proved true this weekend when I was nursing Margot in the middle of Bryant Park and, even though she kept popping off to look around at the tree and the skaters and the birds flying past, not one person paid any attention to us.

Most of the time, people don’t even notice that I’m feeding her.  On Christmas morning we were opening presents and my grandma commented how quiet Margot was being and asked if she was asleep.  I said, “Nope, she’s eating!”  That’s the thing about a nursing baby. A nursing baby is quiet and content.  I would rather have a happy baby and risk having someone catch a glimpse of my nipple than have a screaming baby and guarantee that everyone will be looking at me.

If the fact that I am using my breasts for their intended purpose makes you uncomfortable I am honestly sorry.  I am sorry that you can not see the value of what I am doing for my child.  I am sorry that you can not let go of your sexual feelings about breasts.  I am sorry that you were not raised in a society that values and accepts normal human behavior.  But… I am guessing that if you are someone who is that uncomfortable… you probably didn’t make it this far into my post… so I’m sorry for that, too.

I bet I lost the last hangers-on at my first use of the word “nipple.”

Well, there it is… my explanation of why I nurse my baby in front of friends, family and strangers alike and why I will continue to post boobie pictures on Instagram and on this blog.

In closing, here are some helpful tips from Skeptical Mothering: