The Sport of Breastfeeding

I knew this was coming – I had been warned by countless friends that Toby would try to imitate my breastfeeding, but I just couldn’t imagine my manly-boys-boy taking an interest in ANYTHING maternal.

But once again, Toby came through, proving that he WAS normal while staying true to his character. It happened only once, while he was visiting his grandparents, during a heated game of tennis ball soccer-baseball in the kitchen. I suspect he was on break after scoring a point and as he picked up the ball he slipped it under his shirt and announced that there was a baby in his belly.

Being now well versed in the sequence of events, he proceeded to announce that the baby was going to come out of his belly. He then assigned roles – “Grandma, you’re the daddy, I’m the mommy and Poppa you’re the big brother.” The tennis ball was successfully delivered (a much glossed over event, thank goodness) and immediately handed to “daddy”. Toby then positioned himself on the couch, lifted up his shirt and announced that it was time to breastfeed before grabbing the tennis ball back and placing it on his right breast.

"Daddy" was then handed the tennis ball for another brief instant before having it snatched up again by an eager Toby with the obvious explanation that it was time to feed on the other side.

The tennis ball is a much more efficient eater then Mia and my poor parents had barely caught their breath from choking back laughter before it was back to the game. He has not attempted to breastfeed any further pieces of sports equipment, and I suspect he only did it once to let us know that he is just like any other big brother/sister and the new and somewhat unusual act of breastfeeding is not lost on him. But at the end of the day, there are much more entertaining games to play with a tennis ball.