In the media this week were several pairs of breasts belonging to the famous and the now infamous-- Adrienne, Kate, Rihanna, Kris-- as if each set was as important as all other critical breaking news on the globe. Apparently in the triage deadline discussions of newsworthiness, these functional, admirable assets of the female physiology trumped all and became suddenly noteworthy when bared, utilized, tattooed or discussed.

It seems the editors across the globe proclaimed, "Go with the boobs!"

In many cases editors decided these women's breasts deserved more coverage -- OK, pun intended -- than the fallout from an irresponsible video leading to widespread violence in Libya and beyond, the upcoming election fight or the Federal Reserve's new economic stimulus plans.

Get a grip. Or, more importantly, let's loosen the grip on our cultural breast obsession. Enough with the boobs.

Adrienne Pine of American University, stirred controversy by soothing a sick toddler during an anthropology lecture by breastfeeding in class. I reserve judgment since I believe mother on mother conflict is a reprehensible habit and one that creates a war on mothers, between mothers and about mothers.

But to the point, I am a university assistant professor and single mother as well. And though I began teaching at Northwestern University when my sons were seven, five, and two (past my personal breastfeeding limits of six to nine months of age per child), I understand completely the panic of a sick child, a canceled babysitter and a classroom of eager students expecting you to teach.

You do the best you can in the circumstances. You make snap decisions in emergencies. And you can't please all parties. I am more modest than Ms. Pine and when circumstance forced me to breastfeed in inconvenient situations -- on an airplane, in a restaurant or a bathroom stall - -I took the blanket approach and completely shrouded half my body and most all of my child's no matter what. But that was also more than 20 years ago and none of us were so liberated.

So if I was in her position, I would have offered my child a bottle or a pacifier. If that didn't work, I likely would have handed out the syllabus, lectured on key points and apologized for having to take a 10-minute break. During that break I would have offered a brief assignment -- write down your key questions or goals for the course in my absence -- and returned to a discussion.

Certainly, I applaud her transparency, candor and humanity. And in her defense, her audience is not small children; they are college students who are most likely all 18 and older, who can vote, smoke cigarettes and go to war. They also have likely watched more bare breasts in television, movies, Girls Gone Wild videos, or real-life spring breaks than could ever be offered from a harried single mother professor at the podium. And I get it that Professor Pine recoiled at the notion of the campus newspaper trying to make her predicament salacious news. On that point, I emailed her my support.

I understand her dilemma -- because as a working mother you are constantly weighing the need to be a good mother and a good professional -- juggling not just plates in the air, but butcher knives in flames.

Her breasts do not need to make news.

In a new book reviewed this week, Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History, author and historian Florence Williams takes an environmental, scientific, historic and cultural view of breasts. Her book is a decidedly more intelligent, insightful and meaningful look at the female body than Naomi Wolf dares in her tell-all orgasm tome, Vagina: A New Biography. Williams writes, "Perhaps not surprisingly, breasts have often eluded clearheaded thinking."