Week 8, Day 5 (still...)

Did I mention my brain was misfiring? This addendum to the below post is proof of that. I published, reviewed, and thought "Damn! I completely forgot what I logged on to say, and waffled off down the orchard path instead".

I had a surprise phone call from an old mate and riding instructor on the weekend, who was blown away by the news of Tadpole. To set the scene, this lady is very much of the old school and grew up on a dairy farm at a time when cows received manual attention from the milker, ie hand-stripped after the machines had done their thing. Archaic by today's standards (but the cows have suffered with the price of progress).

June's father helped her mother deal with breastfeeding eight successive children by giving her an ointment of glycerine and metholated spirits to rub on her nipples, and apparently the trick is to not just rub it in, but to PULL on the nipples daily to make them long and strong. (Are we shuddering yet?) About a month out from delivery, the method then adapts to include the attentions of a toothbrush rubbed over the (now) leathery nipples to further harden and prepare them.

Oh ye gods little apples and buckets of jellyfish.. tell me she's kidding? She's NOT???

No way Jose! Post-baby I would very much like NOT to have an udder that resembles a Jersey cow's, with pendulous teaty nipple things. Good grief. I'll take my chances with a good Vitamin E cream, and a nipple shield if necessary.

I sometimes think being pregnant is a licence for everyone to scare the bejeepers out of you...