Berlioz and Boobs

What better way to celebrate my 100th post than by getting my gear off in public.

I didn't buy many pregnancy specific clothes. I got one pair of pants and a few t-shirts second hand (with tags still on because the chick I bought them from had a premmie baby and didn't get the chance to wear them) but when I needed some other bits and pieces I just bought normal clothes a size or two larger - because when you put a maternity tag on something the price doubles, and I'm too stingy frugal to pay extra for something I'm only going to get a few months wear out of. I don't see the point in it all. But breastfeeding friendly clothes? I definitely see the point in them.
 
I have a few specific breastfeeding tops that are purpose made to allow easy feeding without hiking up your top - perfect for when you don't want the entire world to see your flabby, stretch marked belly. But I also just have a few tops that are button up and they do the job just as well. Add to this a nursing bra (which, due to their peep show panels, I like to call my stripper bras) and I'm all set to feed Tricky whenever, wherever. I've even got the whole breastfeeding in public thing down to a fine art - I do use a thin blanket to cover myself up when I'm putting him on and taking him off, not because I think I have to, or I think it's indecent exposure, but just because I'd prefer that not every man and his dog see my nips - which immediately after a feed look like they've come straight from page three of a National Geographic magazine.

So the other evening I was lucky enough to be taken to the symphony by Aunty Penny. I dolled myself up and decided that since Tricky was staying home with Hubby and a few bottles of expressed milk that I wouldn't need to wear any of my feeding tops - I could actually put on something that didn't scream 'lactating mother'. I put on one of my favourite dresses, a multicoloured, silk maxi dress. I dressed it up with some killer heels and a bit of bling. It was pretty exciting (sad, I know).

When I got to the Concert Hall I did what all good mothers do when they have a night off... I went straight to the bar. I nearly fell over and it had nothing to do with the heels I was wearing, rather the $9.50 pricetag on my glass of chardonnay. I figured, hey, how often do I get a chance to get dressed up and go the symphony? So I splurged. $9.50 on a glass of vinegar. Great. But I wasn't going to let it get to me. I was at the Concert Hall seeing the West Australian Symphony Orchestra, baby! And they were about to perform Symphonie Fantastique by Berlioz! *Insert excited geeky muso squeals here* See, I'm a big music lover - I studied it for years and have even performed right there on the very stage we were looking at. I was having flashbacks (possibly caused by the foul wine) and it was brilliant.

At intermission, Aunty Penny and I were having a chat and laughing at all the random stupid things we normally laugh at when for some reason - possibly because there were lots of posh looking people - I said "Wouldn't it be funny if there was a streaker?" Being obsessed with social media I even tweeted it! Who would have thought those words would foreshadow the rest of the night's events?

Tweeting at the symphony - I'm all class

When it finished Aunty Penny and I made our way down to where Hubby was picking us up and I didn't even have to open the car door to hear it... Tricky was crying. My poor bubba had been yanked out of bed in the middle of the night (see, you don't like it much do ya, Tricks? So stop doing it to your mother!) and to top it off he had a fever. It had only been a couple of hours since he'd had paracetamol so I couldn't give him any more, so the sure fire way to comfort him when he is upset like that is to feed him so Hubby turned off the engine, Aunty Penny jumped in the passenger seat while I climbed in to the back to feed Tricky. But there was a slight problem. The super-fabulous-non-breast-accessible-dress. Crap. I couldn't pull down the top half of the dress (it was a racer back and wouldn't come down) so I had no choice... I would have to take it off.

Now normally, stripping off in the back seat is done for an entirely different reason and therefore the car is usually in a secluded spot (if it's not then you're probably an exhibitionist). But we were parked at the steps to the Concert Hall whilst three hundred of our fellow concert-goers walked past to get to their own cars. I couldn't get out of the car to take my dress off, there were too many people - so after a crack from Aunty Penny about this not being the first time to take my clothes off in the back seat of a car, I stripped. If any of the people walking by looked in they would have seen me, sitting on the back seat, wearing my stripper bra and undies with my dress laid over my lap and my child at my breast.

What a night - symphony AND a peep show.