Nursing Times

From my newspaper column - Herald Express, Devon (due for publication 16-06-07):

This week, it’s all about breasts. Frankly, I’m sick of my man-boobs or “moobs” as popularised by celebs such as Simon Cowell, Tom Cruise and Prime Minister Blair in recent months, but I’ll get that off my chest later.

First up, it’s the controversial matter of breastfeeding in public, which looks to be almost compulsory now that the UK government has enabled nursing mothers to dispense to their babies wherever they like backed by new anti-discrimination laws.

Apparently, restaurants, cafes and shops that try to stop this wholesome and natural practice may face court action as well fines of up to £2,500.

Clearly, it’s a sad state of affairs when parliament feels the need to step in like this, but hearing of this move takes me back about 18 years, when – for the first and only time - I walked out of a restaurant without paying.

Tucking into lunch in a Manchester café with partner and nursing infant by my side, it soon became clear that we were the cause of some agitation. A rather terse waitress came to our table and asked my partner to refrain from breastfeeding our little treasure Ruby, as it was offending other customers.

“Could you do it in the toilet,” was her harassed request, to which mum Julia replied: “would you want to eat your lunch in there?”

Mission unaccomplished, the waitress lost her cool and told us that what was going on, albeit to our minds – discreetly, was to her, and those she spoke for, “disgusting”.

It was at this point that I lost my composure and, rising to my feet, told the woman it was her that was disgusting in her barbaric and backward views, whereupon we gathered our belongings and left.

I don’t often “lose my rag”, but that episode, really pushed my buttons, incredulous as I was, unable to comprehend such prudery and narrow-mindedness. Page 3 and lads’ mags that objectify women and their breasts are getting towards the disgusting end of the spectrum, but the feeding of an infant as nature intended? Come on!

So I welcome this development and hope it will give new mums some encouragement in doing what comes naturally and – to me – seems such an obvious way to feed a baby.

It seems the law will allow mothers of children up to a year old to feed 'discreetly' in public, regardless of the discomfort of restaurant staff or the potential embarrassment of fellow diners.

To the embarrassed, I say: “get over it”, to restaurateurs: “be nice to nursing mums”, and to the government: “whilst we’re legislating here, may I ask that the blowing of noses loudly into germ-infested handkerchiefs be outlawed near people who are eating, because this is far more irritating and unpleasant.”

Anyway, enough already on nature’s number one nutritional miracle, it’s time to talk about my “pecs” and the worrying phenomenon of men’s increasing cup sizes. For years, I’ve been embarrassed by having what my kids unkindly call “chicken breasts” on account of my explanation for the condition.

I’m convinced that the consumption of hormone-rich chicken throughout my childhood has given me, what are now – almost fashionably – known as “man boobs”.

As far as I‘m concerned, they are not, to coin a phrase – “a good look”, and just a week or two ago a mate of mine, who I’d not seen for a while, made it clear that I might be giving Jordan cause for concern in terms of competition.

I’ve decided to take action, and having done a bit of research, it seems oestrogen intake, via hormone-laden foods and water, can be a contributory factor, although excess body fat is the main culprit, gathering as it does, on the chest and gut of many a middle-aged man.

If you are a moobster and want to get some pectoral definition, join me as I plan to eat less fat-gaining food, do more cardio-based work at the gym as well as pump some iron, in order to chisel my chest to perfection.

I’ll keep you updated and please let me know if you have any top tips for getting flat-chested.