I love watching the great food debate in the United States right now.
Better-food advocates show statistic after statistic that proves that our food system is killing us. Like, causing obesity, diabetes and loads of other horrific diseases.
On the other side, you’ve got the… ummm… ”screw you” folks that will say that people can choose what they put into their bodies, calorie counts be darned!
It’s a divisive conversation – well-intentioned regulation vs. personal liberty to eat, drink and be merry. Both sides will give you their two cents.
Don’t tell my editors, but I generally don’t go around screaming from rooftops that I’m contributing to a breastfeeding blog. But I am almost always around SOMEONE who knows about my work here, between my wife and co-workers. And, boy, do they LOVE to bring up the topic of discussion at events and social functions!
Which leads to interesting and strange situations, like discussing breastfeeding tips over drinks at a bar. Or, my personal favorite, awkward pauses while people turn their heads 30 degrees to the left and go “hmmmm.” And the list goes on.
During these conversations, mothers tend to give me fantastic first-hand stories about their experiences and difficulties. Non-mothers are fascinated that I understand what’s going on in there.
After about 10 minutes, the same thing always happens: they do a triple-take and realize they’ve just had a credible 10 minute conversation about breastfeeding with a guy.
I know guys that can actually tell you the difference between Regular and Premium gas (beyond $.50/gallon!) and even I can tell you that baseball legend Wade Boggs attributed much of his success to eating chicken before every game. I know the difference between the charger for my phone and the charger for my computer.
So I know what my car, a baseball icon and small electronics need to consume. Why in the world should it be surprising that I’m keenly aware of what my child will be eating?