Nursing two little men

Many thoughts enter my head while nursing my two sons at the same time. When they were younger tandem nursing was uncomfortable, they had to be held to the breast and there never seemed to be that perfect position. Now that they are older, I am able to nurse them together comfortably and I look forward to our bedtime nursing session. I watch as they touch each others faces, feel each others ears and eyes, and I think about what impact there might be on a man who had been nursed as a baby and toddler. I tell myself I should Google it sometime, maybe I will today.

Last month in Mothering Magazine there was a great poem. Here it is...

the raspberry boys 

The nipple huge in the baby's mouth,
like a well gummed butt of an old cigar,
the baby's hands squeeze the flesh,
he pulls off every few seconds to smile
at his mother or turn to see what else
is out here. And then one brother blew
huge raspberries on the baby's belly,
the baby pulled off again, guffawing,
then the other brother blew raspberries
into the air, there being no more room
on the belly, that worked just as well,
child laughter squeaky as old pumps,
young spittle covering the scene,
then, for encore, the holy valve closed
a second late and the baby's face
was sprayed with warm milk, more laughter,
the raspberry boys waving their hands
to feel the spray as if it were a first snow,
boys who lost their privileges at their
mother's breasts not long ago,
though they remember none of it as they
won't even remember this by tomorrow,
and so I take it down for them.

Peter Waldor