This story is in honor of World Breastfeeding Week. Even though I haven’t breastfed in a long time, I am still a huge supporter of breastfeeding women and causes.

I call myself a pseudo-hippie and even though it was a latent tendency that was sure to erupt at any time despite my Midwestern upbringing, the hippiness emerged when I became pregnant with my first child. I started eating organic food and while reading everything that I could about childbirth and raising a child, I was drawn to “Attachment Parenting”. Childbirth with minimum intervention, co-sleeping, baby-wearing and breastfeeding all made sense to me.

I had a drama-free birth (if you can call being in the worst pain of my life drama-free) and my son took to breastfeeding right away. So while breastfeeding was not difficult for me, it was still awkward and new. I was certainly not adept at breastfeeding in public yet. That would come with time…I would become a breastfeeding pro who could be deep in conversation, discreetly whip out a boob, feed my kid and not miss a beat–while talking to my pastor, no less. But not yet.

Nevertheless, a few weeks after giving birth I found myself accompanying my husband to Will Smith’s house. My husband’s friend DJ Jazzy Jeff was there and invited him to a Playstation gaming tournament. My husband was a big gamer and wanted to go, but didn’t want to leave his wife and new son at home. So he brought us along.

I can hear you gasping now: “She went to Will Smith’s house a few weeks after giving birth? Sleep-deprived, still carrying baby weight and boobs so milk-sensitive that she could leak all over his (presumably) expensive sofa?” Yeah, those were my thoughts too.

But there I was, nestled on a big sofa with Will’s friends–all guys–holding my newborn son. After the initial hellos, pounds and whatssups, everyone forgot about me and the baby as they got deep into the Playstation tournament. And that was fine with me because now my baby was hungry and I had to figure out how to breastfeed him without calling attention to myself. Asking Will–who I really didn’t know–for a private room would be calling attention to myself. Moving off the sofa would be calling attention to myself. Trying to send brainwaves to my husband wasn’t working; he was in gamer-guy heaven and oblivious to my dilemma.

I had no choice; my son was starting to fuss. I put a blanket over my shoulder (I had never done that before; at home I nursed with my shirt open), unbuttoned my shirt and thankfully my son latched on immediately and silently.

Duane Martin, sitting next to me, noticed the silence and the blanket. “Wow, he stopped crying because you put a blanket over his head?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “He’s stopped crying because he was hungry and I now I am feeding him.”

He looked confused for a minute and then I could see the lightbulb go off. “Oh!”

And that was that. The baby was fed, it wasn’t a big deal and none was the wiser except for Duane Martin (who went right back to gaming).

I learned that if I could do it there, with a newborn baby, the only woman in Will Smith’s house during a Playstation gaming tournament, I could breastfeed anywhere. And for the next several years, that’s just what I did.

*Today I am participating in Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop by answering the prompt: 4.) A long drive…

My kids travel well in the car.  My husband will drive several hours without a complaint.  Me?–I hate long drives and start to lose it quickly if anything goes wrong.  And something always goes wrong.  Here are two videos from long family drives.  I like to record the craziness, to legitimize my fall-outs.

April, 2009: We’re on another road trip to Florida; this time to Orlando to see our favorite mouse.  The problem is, everyone has the same idea and traffic is ridiculous.  If you follow me on Twitter, you would see that I’m not handling it too well either.  The kids, they’re fine; it’s me who’s going crazy.  So in an effort to get my mind off the fact that we have traveled five miles in one hour, I made a video.

But that wasn’t the first or only time that we acted a fool on a long ride.  This happened right after Christmas 2008: This was supposed to be a simple road trip to Savannah; a mere 4 hours away from Atlanta.  Our goal was to leave about 8:00 a.m, but since I was wiped out from Christmas, I didn’t even finish packing until about 10:00 a.m.  We started loading the car about 11:00 a.m. and that was when our road trip comedy of errors began–our rental car was too small for our luggage.  What do we do?  Watch and see:

Yeah, I would think twice about taking any long drives with us!

Visit Mama Kat’s Losin It to write a prompt of your own.

*Today I am participating in Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop by answering the prompt: 3.) Steppin outside the box (describe a time when you went way out of your comfort zone).

I like to challenge myself.  Sometimes it ends well, as in story number 2 and sometimes not so well, as in story number 1.  Either way, I learn and grow (or look ridiculous).  I posted these stories last year when the Facebook note “25 Random Facts About Me” was circulating.   I only posted 12 facts because that was more than enough; these are #10 & #11.  If you are at all intrigued at my obvious lack of shame, check out the rest.

I stepped outside my comfort zone when I tried to windsurf because: #10  I love the beach, but I’m afraid of the ocean.  Mostly the sharks in the ocean.

I love, love, LOVE the beach and plan living near the ocean (again) someday.  Looking at the water both soothes my soul and gives me energy at the same time.  At least once a year I try to make it to some beach, somewhere.  My kids love the beach as much as I do and we can stay there all day long collecting shells, flying kites and looking for marine life.  But except for an occasional wade out into the water just to cool off, I like the ocean from the vantage point of the sand. I’m afraid of the ocean and of course there’s a story behind my fear.   There’s always a story.

Back when I worked at Club Med, one of the perks was being able to experience all of the Club activities along with the guests.  I took tennis lessons, went horse-back riding and played pool games.  One day I decided that I wanted to learn how to wind-surf.  The wind-surf instructor wasn’t busy that day, so he gave me a beginning lesson on the sand and in the shallow water.   When he thought that I had the hang of it, he urged me to go into the water even further, but still close to the shore.

Now would be a good time to mention that I didn’t know how to swim.   No problem, the instructor said, don’t go out too far and since he wasn’t busy, he’ll keep an eye on me.    I’m pretty fearless and it didn’t look too dangerous at all.    Besides, I had noticed that although beginner wind-surfers fall quite a bit, they fall very slowly and are able to hold on the sail while in the water.  I would be fine.

And I was fine for awhile.  While I did fall a lot, since I was so small, when I did get back on the board and lift the sail even slightly the wind took me pretty far.  This went of for awhile: falling, getting back on the board, lifting the sail, surfing for a short while and falling again.  Finally tired, the next time I fell I just sat on my board.  And looked up to see that I was far away from the wind-surf instructor (who was now busy with guests and forgot all about me) and far away from the shore.  I wasn’t even on Club Med’s property anymore.  I looked at the water and it was a very deep blue AND I TOTALLY FREAKED OUT.  Sharks!–That’s all I could think about.  I didn’t actually see them, but I knew they were there.   I tucked my feet up under me and made sure no part of my body was in the water.

Well, now I was in a real dilemma.  I couldn’t wind-surf back to shore because I couldn’t control the sail very well and the odds were that I would take myself further out to sea.   I couldn’t swim to shore because I didn’t know how to swim.  I couldn’t yell for help from the Club Med personnel because they were too far away to hear me.  So, I just sat on my board for what seemed like forever, but was really probably 15 minutes.

In the distance I saw a small figure on the beach waving at me and yelling something in Spanish; it was a local Mexican gentleman walking on the public beach.   I didn’t know who he was or what he was saying, but I just yelled back “Help Me!”   Much to my surprise, he jumped in the water fully clothed, swam out to me and pushed me on the board all the way back to shore.  He didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Spanish but I was so grateful and he knew it.  After making sure that I was okay, he went on his way and I dragged the wind-surf board across the sand all the way back down to the Club Med beach.

I was 18 years old when that happened and it while it turned out okay, it was a stupid thing to go into the ocean without a life jacket on, not knowing how to swim.  I didn’t like that I had a fear of deep water (even in a pool) because I don’t like being afraid of anything.  After the birth of my first child, I knew that I had to learn how to swim, if just to be a good role model.

I stepped outside my comfort zone when: #11  I learned to swim as an adult and I’m very proud of myself.

Yes, I took swimming lessons as a child at the YMCA like everyone else and I was doing just fine until they made up jump off the diving board into the deep end of the pool before I was ready to.   There was no compassion from my instructors and it was pretty cut and dry, either jump or leave the class.  I left the class and never went back.   For the rest of my childhood I “got by” at the pool by swimming under water and mostly staying in the shallow end, but I had few incidents of almost-drowning.   One time I was at the local public pool and I wanted to jump off the diving board like all the other kids.   So I did.  But when I hit the water, I didn’t know how to come back up and swim to the edge, so I started fighting the water and going back under.  The lifeguards didn’t even see me, but luckily a teenaged girl did and helped me to the side.  That brush with nearly drowning only worsened my fear of deep water.

So when I finally decided to learn how to swim, I first had to get over my fear of deep water.  My friend had a pool in her backyard and let me use it to hire a private instructor for a few lessons.  When I felt comfortable enough, I continued lessons at my local YMCA.  Before long I could tread water in the deep end and swim the length of the pool.  I was so determined to learn and not be afraid that I was the star pupil of the class.  I kept my progress report as a reminder of how far I had come.

I do like knowing that I have a good chance of saving my life if the situation should ever arise, but I’m not sure if I will ever be comfortable swimming in the ocean; the thought of all the ocean creatures beneath me kind of unnerves me.  The ocean absolutely fascinates me, but I like learning about it from visiting the aquarium or watching Imax films at the museum. However, I do try to push myself every now and then, just to keep my fear under control, and ultimately, conquer it.   This past summer I went jet-skiing in the ocean and boogie-boarding as well.   And someday soon I plan to take surfing lessons.  I gotta get ready for my future life as a beach-bum.

Visit Mama Kat’s Losin It to write a prompt of your own.

For the last 3 weeks we have been living the life of a Venice Beach resident and let me tell you, these people are living the good life.  This is how we get down, beachside:

First we rented bikes for the day at Venice Bike and Skate on Washington.  The staff there are really nice and the rentals are cheaper than on the pier or boardwalk.   With a bike lock and a basket, we were equipped to stay out all day. Then we biked to the Santa Monica Farmers Market on Main Street.  Gourmet food, a live band, pony rides and local farmers make this market a Sunday must-do with Venice and Santa Monica residents.  We parked our bikes at the bike valet and spread a blanket on the grass to listen to the music while we ate crepes, pancakes, gourmet chicken sausage, bagels and organic strawberries from Oxnard.  And because it’s California and not Georgia, there were compost and recycling bins everywhere.

The California Heritage Museum is right next to the farmer’s market and we saw a very cool exhibit, Skateboard: Evolution and Art in California.  The docent led exhibit traces the history of skateboarding from the very first skateboard up until present day, including the artwork that is such a big part of skateboard culture.

Leaving the museum, we hopped back on the bikes and continued riding along the coast for several miles.  In total we rode about 18 miles that day.  That’s a long way on a beach cruiser!

After resting up a bit, we rode along the Venice Boardwalk to a Hoop Jam.  A while ago I started hooping, but had only hooped by myself in my living room.  I took a class at the Hoopnotica studio while we were staying in LA and learned about the Hoop Jam happening right down the beach from us.  Unlike Atlanta, LA has a hooping community and once a month hoopers congregate at a beach or park to hoop together.  Extra hoops are available for anyone passing by to give hooping a try.  I had my own hoop, a Hoopnotica Travel Hoop, and I bought Girly a kid’s hoop at the farmer’s market.   My boys opted to watch instead of hoop, but there were male hoopers present.  Someone was DJing, someone else was playing the drums and it was all very hippie and groovy.  I loved it!

Hungry after all that hooping (it’s really quite a workout), we returned our bikes and ate dinner next door at C & O Trattoria.  A Venice neighborhood favorite, C & O has delicious Northern Italian food and huge portions; my lobster linguine was just as good for lunch the next day as it was for dinner that night.

A perfect Sunday by the beach.  And the next week, we did it again.  Yeah, we could definitely get used to this!

My family and I love to eat.  In the spirit of the Food Network show by the same name, we’re going to share the best thing we ever ate and hope that you will tell us your favorites too.

As far as frozen treats go, I am not a fan of sorbet; I prefer ice cream, gelato or frozen yogurt.  I like creamy rather than icy.

But a few years ago I had a scoop of Cabernet Sauvignon sorbet at Bennett’s Ice Cream, a family run business that’s been at the LA Farmer’s Market since 1946, that made me change my mind about sorbet. It was refreshing, it was light and it taste just like wine.  Hello!

It was the best sorbet I ever ate.

Bennett’s Ice Cream at LA’s Farmer’s Market: old school for real.

The ice cream is made right there on the premises and it’s expensive–almost $4 for a tiny scoop.  But oh so worth it.   Now whenever I come to LA I make sure to go to the Farmer’s Market for my scoop o’ wine. And just like a good glass of wine, I “sip” it slowly…savoring every. Last. Drop.

Or down it quickly and ask for another.  And why not?  Normally I can only drink one glass of wine, but the sorbet has all the goodness without the ill effects.  Too much Cabernet sorbet?–No problem!  The scale may be a bit heavier, but at least I can still drive home.