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Subject:
From:
Sandra Steingraber <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
Lactation Information and Discussion <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Tue, 29 Jan 2002 10:51:59 -0500
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I included a lengthy discussion of toddler names for nursing in my
book on  environmental threats to pregnancy and infancy (titled
Having Faith, after my daughter) because I thought the humor would
help my audience through some of the scarier topics, such as chemical
contamination of breast milk.  Also, I wanted readers to see how
nursed toddlers come to see their relationship to the act of nursing,
and, by extension, to all of creation.  Oddly, it's now become the
section of the book from which I'm most frequently asked to read
during public appearances.  I think people are fascinated by the idea
that something as primordial as the act of breastfeeding can be named
and understood by the breastfeed-ee.

Here's a short excerpt from Chapter Twelve.  The scene is a barn at a
county fair in upstate New York.   Faith is about 22 months old.  It
is the first time she sees farm animals up close.  As is explained
earlier in the book, Faith's word for nursing is "nums":

********

What she notices first about the cows is their Big Poops.  The next
thing she notices is even more exciting:  Big Nums.  Big Big Big
Nums!  The goats are similarly equipped, as are a couple of the
sheep.  Soon she's checking all of the animals for mammary glands.

"Bunny nums?" she asks as we peruse the ribbon-adorned rabbit hutches.

I assure her that mommy rabbits do have them, but they're very small.

"Chicken nums?"  she asks at the poultry display.

I hesitate, and then launch into a quick discussion of vertebrate
taxonomy, introducing the concept of mammals.  She looks bewildered.
I've explained too much.  Meanwhile, the proud, pre-adolescent owner
of three champion hens asks if we want to feed them some cracked
corn.  Faith watches silently as they frantically peck up the kernels.

"No nums," she finally says in a whisper.

We make another loop around the stalls where the large animals are
quartered.  Suddenly, she stops.

"Mammal?" she asks, pointing at a brown Jersey named Daisy.
"Mammal?" she asks again, pointing at her calf.

"Mammal?" she inquires of the goats.

Her eyes light up.  "Mommy a mammal!" she declares, pointing at me.

Then, in a moment of epiphany, like Helen Keller learning the word
water, she looks down her own shirt.

"Faith a mammal!" she announces triumphantly to all within earshot.
"Faith a mammal!"

*********

--
--

Sandra Steingraber, Ph.D.
Visiting Assistant Professor
Program on Breast Cancer and Environmental Risk Factors
110 Rice Hall
Cornell University
Ithaca, NY  14853
[log in to unmask]
www.steingraber.com

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