My ex is a jackass, which he is required to be by law. Because he is an ex. No one ever says, "My ex is a saint." Not if they have children by the man, they don't. But my ex is an over-achiever when it comes to jackassery. He is the bar to which other jackasses must measure up. He hasn't seen his daughter in over 2 years. So the other day, when he messaged me on yahoo, I decided to fuck with him. Because it amuses me.
I told him that Ryan is now goth, which is kinda true. She likes to wear skulls and she does envy Abby Sciuto, but she is by no means a dedicated 24-7 goth kid. But I told him that she is, and I sent a photo of her from Halloween as proof. I also told him that she has hot pink hair now. He says he will come see her when he gets his license back, which he claims he lost due to a DUI. That's interesting, because one lonely DUI will not lose you your license in Illinois, not all by itself. He is a lying jackass. See how well he does at that?
When I think about my ex I always marvel at my husband. Not just because he is a freaking god compares to the jackass, but because the jackass proves that I have no trustworthy judgment when it comes to men and therefor it is complete dumb luck that I ended up married to a decent guy. A more than decent guy, he is as close to perfect as anyone who is endlessly amused by his own gas can be. I am so lucky that he is the one who finally fell prey to my marriage nagging. I'd be a suicide statistic if any of my other boyfriends ever had.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Bob The Builder Blows
The house I rent belongs to my mother. I have lived here since she bought the place almost 12 years ago; she has never had to deal with a tenant who didn't care about her in a deep and familial way. She planned, at the time of purchase, to tear down the dirt floor garage and put up a nice 2 car one, and then to add on and make my tiny 4 room house into a 3 bedroom, 2 bath family place. Due to financial constraints and the human tendency to procrastinate, neither of these things got done. But now she has a much better paying job and so she is adding on to the place. She made this decision last year, spurred on (I think) by my pregnancy and the fact that we would be moving to a larger house soon. So in June she called the local construction guy and asked him for an estimate. He said the whole thing could be started in July and over by September.
Fast forward to today. The plumber piped it, most of the way. Yes, at only 5 months overdue and $26,000 over budget, the addition is almost done. Now all we need is one more day from the plumber, a return visit from the electrician, and then we will be ready for drywall and tile! Yay!!! Hopefully when it's all done Tommy will be able to tell me, in complete sentences by then, what color he wants his bedroom painted.
At this point, with contractors and subcontractors who rarely show up and who, when they are here, make my house smell like cigarette smoke from the other side of my bedroom wall, Bob the Builder can kiss my ass. I am sick of this and have vowed to NEVER have a home custom built, or even added on to again. This shit is ridiculous!
Fast forward to today. The plumber piped it, most of the way. Yes, at only 5 months overdue and $26,000 over budget, the addition is almost done. Now all we need is one more day from the plumber, a return visit from the electrician, and then we will be ready for drywall and tile! Yay!!! Hopefully when it's all done Tommy will be able to tell me, in complete sentences by then, what color he wants his bedroom painted.
At this point, with contractors and subcontractors who rarely show up and who, when they are here, make my house smell like cigarette smoke from the other side of my bedroom wall, Bob the Builder can kiss my ass. I am sick of this and have vowed to NEVER have a home custom built, or even added on to again. This shit is ridiculous!
If your junk got swapped. . .
So if you had a sex change, or if you somehow woke up tomorrow in the other sex's body, what would your name be? I think if I were a guy, despite being named Chuck now, I'd go by Dave. In high school they used to call me Dave and I think that'd be what I'd go by now. I just have always wondered how transsexuals pick their new names, those who don't go for something similar that is. I'd be Dave. What about you?
When did I miss this?
Why do couples move in together after only a month or two of dating? I know lots of women who have moved entire families in with a guy after only a few weekends. I know one woman who moved herself and her two kids in with a guy the day she moved them out of the father's house. Now, I have special objections to the whole living together with kids scenario, but in general when did living together become a casual thing?
I thought that moving in together was supposed to be a big step, a sign that things were getting really serious. Like, the next step is marriage sort of serious. But it seems to have become the norm now. If you're dating and it's exclusive, you live together. And if you have kids, well the theory seems to be that children need two parents so much that it's better to rush into finding a replacement than to wait and make sure the replacement will be a permanent one. So what you end up with may very well be a 12 year old who has already gone through four or more "dad's".
Tom and I lived together for about 2 weeks before we got got engaged, and I'm slightly ashamed of that fact. Why did I expose my daughter to a father figure without the commitment that would have (and eventually did) make him and actual step-father? Now, in my defense he probably only spent 3 or 4 days actually living here before we married, since he was driving over the road at the time, but I still don't know why I allowed it.
I don't bring this up because of any one couple but rather because I notice a trend with celebrities and in real life where couples don't wait for the shine of new romance to dull and instead they jump in with both feet, all while under the influence of first-kiss endorphins. But why? Why not wait and make it a big step?
I thought that moving in together was supposed to be a big step, a sign that things were getting really serious. Like, the next step is marriage sort of serious. But it seems to have become the norm now. If you're dating and it's exclusive, you live together. And if you have kids, well the theory seems to be that children need two parents so much that it's better to rush into finding a replacement than to wait and make sure the replacement will be a permanent one. So what you end up with may very well be a 12 year old who has already gone through four or more "dad's".
Tom and I lived together for about 2 weeks before we got got engaged, and I'm slightly ashamed of that fact. Why did I expose my daughter to a father figure without the commitment that would have (and eventually did) make him and actual step-father? Now, in my defense he probably only spent 3 or 4 days actually living here before we married, since he was driving over the road at the time, but I still don't know why I allowed it.
I don't bring this up because of any one couple but rather because I notice a trend with celebrities and in real life where couples don't wait for the shine of new romance to dull and instead they jump in with both feet, all while under the influence of first-kiss endorphins. But why? Why not wait and make it a big step?
Friday, February 13, 2009
I heart Valentine's Day
Today is Friday the Thirteenth, which means that Tom will be in a romantic mood tonight, as gruesome horror movies have an aphrodisiac effect on him and every fucking channel we have (with the exception of the Food Network) is showing gruesome horror movies tonight. But also . . . . . . . . tomorrow is Valentine's Day!
Some couples have decided that Valentine's Day is a Hallmark Holiday, a scam fueled by florists and chocolatiers to make a profit. The people have a very valid point. I am not one of these people. I am one of the people who stopped getting Valentine's Day gifts and cards after teachers stopped making kids give something to everyone. Once I outgrew the class party , complete with manila folder full of character-themed valentines ("Does Wes really like me just because he gave me the Optimus Prime card with a stick of gum in it?"), I succumbed to the fate of the social pariah. When I was 15 I got a balloon from a guy. And that was it, until I got married. I would like to say that I am now confident enough that Valentine's Day has lost it's appeal, but I'm not. I have never become so pragmatic that romance has lost it's appeal. No matter what our budget, we have always exchanged cards and gifts. Last year we even went out to dinner. This year, with a baby and all the costs that that entails, I'm not sure.
**He made me dinner and chocolate covered strawberries! How did no one snatch him up before I got to him?
Some couples have decided that Valentine's Day is a Hallmark Holiday, a scam fueled by florists and chocolatiers to make a profit. The people have a very valid point. I am not one of these people. I am one of the people who stopped getting Valentine's Day gifts and cards after teachers stopped making kids give something to everyone. Once I outgrew the class party , complete with manila folder full of character-themed valentines ("Does Wes really like me just because he gave me the Optimus Prime card with a stick of gum in it?"), I succumbed to the fate of the social pariah. When I was 15 I got a balloon from a guy. And that was it, until I got married. I would like to say that I am now confident enough that Valentine's Day has lost it's appeal, but I'm not. I have never become so pragmatic that romance has lost it's appeal. No matter what our budget, we have always exchanged cards and gifts. Last year we even went out to dinner. This year, with a baby and all the costs that that entails, I'm not sure.
**He made me dinner and chocolate covered strawberries! How did no one snatch him up before I got to him?
Friday, February 06, 2009
Stimulus Schmimulus
Maybe I'm just stupid, and certainly I'm no economics expert, but wouldn't a better stimulus plan be to revamp and fix NAFTA? Maybe bring some of those manufacturing jobs back to the US? I mean, as opposed to spending a billion dollars or whatever on furniture for a new government building. I really was, and I still try to, hold out on Obama being the great fixer of all the Bush fuck-ups. He was Bobby Kennedy and the second coming all in one. And now his stimulus seems to be just a list of earmarks justified only with the claim that people will have to be hired to work on the projects, which means jobs. In that case, I want them to stimulus me a new house, a big one. And it'll help the economy by paying construction crews to do it all!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Inauguration Day
It's an end, and it's a beginning too. Something is over, done with for good, and something wonderful is starting at the same time. The closest experience I can compare it to is a graduation. Except a graduation day is kind of sad because you'll be leaving people behind and you know you'll miss your old friends. But this isn't like that at all, because no one who was in the White House yesterday was a friend, nor have they given us any reason to miss them. So this is more like a parole, I guess. Freedom and sunshine and the ability to now pick out your own clothes might be a little scary, but it's heaven compared to the large, angry, and flirtateous cellmate that has been the Bush administration.
Now remember, the conservatives are scared today. We should be nice to them, and speak in soft gentle voices, so they don't see their shadows and hop back into their holes.
Now remember, the conservatives are scared today. We should be nice to them, and speak in soft gentle voices, so they don't see their shadows and hop back into their holes.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
It's Ba-aack
I try not to act superior. I realize that I can be a little judgmental, that I tend to correct people on subjects they have no interest in being correct about. But I truly don't try to be "better than" anyone else. In fact, my biggest turn-off is condescension. That said, I cannot stand American Idol. I cannot even stand that it exists. I feel that it, like most other reality shows (except Project Runway) cater solely to the lowest common denominator in society. I feel that it is the televised equivalent of plastic lawn flamingos. Everyone knows they only go in trailer parks and that they merely prove a complete lack of sophistication, yet somehow they sell. And I simply cannot fathom how people who enjoy this guilty pleasure aren't even sufficiently guilty about it!
It probably stems from my last job. I sat there day in and day out listening to women who still wore blue eyeshadow talk about American Idol, and it's inbred aunt sister: Fear Factor. Who had done well, who hadn't, who had gotten kicked off and various conspiracy theories on how that guy had managed to go while worse contestants had stayed. These women were positively enthralled with the show, a show I had absolutely no interest in seeing at all. So I probably hate American Idol in some part because it was just one more topic of conversation I couldn't jump in and chat about.
Or, it could be because the show SUCKS! For one thing, it's on non-stop. Sure, it's weekly for a little while, but then it preempts normal Fox broadcasting every night. And it's pandering to sadists. It's all about humiliation, about finding the people who can't sing but who really want to, getting them to put it on the line in front of the cameras, and then humiliating them on national TV. Then it's a couple months of voting, and the same viewers vote for the same people every weeks so it's really just a mass experiment in the nation's speed-dialing capabilities. Then the Idol Gives Back show that they shamelessly plug in commercials for the full week leading up to it. I don't know what Idol is giving back to, but I can' only assume it involves some charity that none of the well-paid producers actually give any of their own money to. then the finals! Who will it be? Hot chick, hot guy, average guy but with a great voice, or the guy who sucks who gets the internet joke votes? Then finally, it's over. And someone won! Yayyy. But unless it's a young hottie, no one will ever hear of them again. Carrie Underwood, fine. Kelly Clarkson, she did okay for a while. But the rest of them went bye bye long ago. And yet they still continue to preempt House with this shit!
And now it's coming back. How many seasons can they do this for? How long until someone realizes that Simon isn't witty - he's just an asshole, Paula's on something, Randy acts and sounds like he's taken a skillet to the back of the head, and Ryan Seacrest isn't pretty enough to be that dumb and that successful. He's like Tori Spelling but without the rich daddy.
Why do people watch this show? And why don't they have the decency and pride to be ashamed of it?
It probably stems from my last job. I sat there day in and day out listening to women who still wore blue eyeshadow talk about American Idol, and it's inbred aunt sister: Fear Factor. Who had done well, who hadn't, who had gotten kicked off and various conspiracy theories on how that guy had managed to go while worse contestants had stayed. These women were positively enthralled with the show, a show I had absolutely no interest in seeing at all. So I probably hate American Idol in some part because it was just one more topic of conversation I couldn't jump in and chat about.
Or, it could be because the show SUCKS! For one thing, it's on non-stop. Sure, it's weekly for a little while, but then it preempts normal Fox broadcasting every night. And it's pandering to sadists. It's all about humiliation, about finding the people who can't sing but who really want to, getting them to put it on the line in front of the cameras, and then humiliating them on national TV. Then it's a couple months of voting, and the same viewers vote for the same people every weeks so it's really just a mass experiment in the nation's speed-dialing capabilities. Then the Idol Gives Back show that they shamelessly plug in commercials for the full week leading up to it. I don't know what Idol is giving back to, but I can' only assume it involves some charity that none of the well-paid producers actually give any of their own money to. then the finals! Who will it be? Hot chick, hot guy, average guy but with a great voice, or the guy who sucks who gets the internet joke votes? Then finally, it's over. And someone won! Yayyy. But unless it's a young hottie, no one will ever hear of them again. Carrie Underwood, fine. Kelly Clarkson, she did okay for a while. But the rest of them went bye bye long ago. And yet they still continue to preempt House with this shit!
And now it's coming back. How many seasons can they do this for? How long until someone realizes that Simon isn't witty - he's just an asshole, Paula's on something, Randy acts and sounds like he's taken a skillet to the back of the head, and Ryan Seacrest isn't pretty enough to be that dumb and that successful. He's like Tori Spelling but without the rich daddy.
Why do people watch this show? And why don't they have the decency and pride to be ashamed of it?
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Stock Saturday
As I said in my last post, I am sick. It's just a cold but it's kicking my ass. Usually I just get 2 or 3 day colds but this is one of those 7-10 day colds that just doesn't get any better or worse from one day to the next. So, I have been making myself chicken noodle soup. I do it because it tastes good, it's folk medicine, and it's easy. I just take a baggie of chicken stock out of the freezer, cut it out of the baggie and dump it in a pot, boil and add noodles. But the other day I ran out of stock. So now I had the perfect excuse, still being sick and all, to make more stock. And that's what I did today. Tom let me sleep in and I woke up at the crack of noon to make stock.
I don't cook chickens a lot so I usually use packages of chicken wings for my stock (wings are the best part of the chicken for stock since they have the most bones and collagen) but this time I just used a whole 4 pound chicken. Ever poke a whole chicken after it's been simmering in a pot of water for 5 hours? It's mush. I have actually found separate vertebrae that just sort of floated through the chicken and out into the water. So when the bones got to the point that they crumbled when I tried to snap them, I enlisted Tom's big muscles and we strained the stock (twice) and now the pot is sitting outside, covered, in a snowbank to cool. You can't put a big pot full of hot stock into the fridge or you'll heat everything else in the fridge before you cool the stock, and you can't keep it hot because it's nutrient rich bacteria-bait that way. This is why I always make stock in the winter, for the snow.
So, I will bring the pot back inside once it's cool, and then I will leave it in the fridge overnight and then bag it up for future colds and chicken soup. I may hate being sick, but I do love making stock. I can remember when my mom used to make stock when I was a kid. Boiling chicken necks for a whole Saturday; I thought she was crazy. Now I know that she was, but making stock is still a nice way to spend a winter Saturday.
And congratulations Dawn. My only faithful reader spawning new faithful readers. It's a wonderful thing.
I don't cook chickens a lot so I usually use packages of chicken wings for my stock (wings are the best part of the chicken for stock since they have the most bones and collagen) but this time I just used a whole 4 pound chicken. Ever poke a whole chicken after it's been simmering in a pot of water for 5 hours? It's mush. I have actually found separate vertebrae that just sort of floated through the chicken and out into the water. So when the bones got to the point that they crumbled when I tried to snap them, I enlisted Tom's big muscles and we strained the stock (twice) and now the pot is sitting outside, covered, in a snowbank to cool. You can't put a big pot full of hot stock into the fridge or you'll heat everything else in the fridge before you cool the stock, and you can't keep it hot because it's nutrient rich bacteria-bait that way. This is why I always make stock in the winter, for the snow.
So, I will bring the pot back inside once it's cool, and then I will leave it in the fridge overnight and then bag it up for future colds and chicken soup. I may hate being sick, but I do love making stock. I can remember when my mom used to make stock when I was a kid. Boiling chicken necks for a whole Saturday; I thought she was crazy. Now I know that she was, but making stock is still a nice way to spend a winter Saturday.
And congratulations Dawn. My only faithful reader spawning new faithful readers. It's a wonderful thing.
Magical lotiony menthol goodness
I'm sick. I've been sick for a week. And today Tom brought me these magical tissues with vap-o-rub in them. These are the bestest tissues ever. Even Tommy thinks so. He tries to eat them, vap-o-rub and all. But I don't let him. No, he has to suffer with regular Puffs Plus for his runny nose. Some things you just have to wait until you're a grown up for, and magical lotiony menthol tissues are a fine example of that.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
New Year's Resolutions!
- Get pregnant again, but not until after August.
- Lose some of this baby weight, hopefully before August.
- Get Tommy into his own bedroom.
- Decorate said bedroom in one cohesive theme.
- Paint the basement with drylock and turn the new half into a playroom.
- Get Ryan to turn in her homework on time every day, without yelling.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Christmas recap
Hmmm, how was my Christmas? Well, Tommy and Ryan got spoiled, as was to be expected. Gluttonous American commercialism at it's best. On Christmas morning Tommy got an exersaucer from Santa, which he LOVES, and sticking out of his stocking (on top of tons of other stuff) was his now-favorite: a Wubbzy! His first ever TV show (aside from football which is really more of a bonding with Dad thing than entertainment) and Santa got him a Wubbzy to hug and talk to and chew on. Ryan got the Sims for the laptop she uses along with just about every expansion pack they make, and her stocking held tons of candy and other little treats. This was her year of the goth so she got plenty of stuff with skulls and lots of black clothes. Tommy got lots of toys and clothes and didn't really know what to make of any of it. Tom got a new coat and some really warm gloves and a bluetooth and I got the book I'd been wanting and some kitchen toys, and a robotic vacuum that cleans by itself. I named it Rosie, because it's red and because of the cleaning robot on the Jetsons. On Christmas morning, after the presents, I made latkes in honor of the holidays and then we got ready to go up to the in-laws', which was pleasantly uneventful. And then today, Tommy and I woke up with colds. So, lots of fluids for me and lots of breast feeding for him so he'll get my antibodies.
I love Christmas. But next year, not so many gifts for the kids. Tom and I need to quit shopping without each other. We each end up doing all the shopping, which results in twice as many gifts. We need to communicate better, I think.
Well, I hope everyone had as good a holiday as I did, and Happy New Year to all.
I love Christmas. But next year, not so many gifts for the kids. Tom and I need to quit shopping without each other. We each end up doing all the shopping, which results in twice as many gifts. We need to communicate better, I think.
Well, I hope everyone had as good a holiday as I did, and Happy New Year to all.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Aging gracefully?
I have a dilemma. For years I've dyed my hair. I'd gone exclusively red until Tom mentioned that his first wife had been a redhead, and a drug-addles bitch, so I started bouncing around between shades of red and blond. Then I got pregnant and decided not to dye my hair due to health concerns and was shocked by how much gray came in. A couple months ago I decided to try brunette for a change and now it's faded to match the non-gray portion of my natural color. It's past time to touch up my roots, and I have the dye in the bathroom waiting, but I'm hesitant. I'm considering just going natural.
I 've been teased about my gray roots before and am not looking forward to it again, but I don't have anything agianst gray hair. Tom is gray and it's sexy as hell. And if I were to go completely uniformly gray I wouldn't blink twice about it. But part of me suspects that this may be the wrong time to go gray. I'm still carrying about 20 pounds more than I can stand, 30 more than I want, and I'm afraid that gray roots will be the final straw in "letting myself go". I want to age naturally and gracefully. I'm just afraid that my natural aging process may be less than graceful.
So, what do you think? Should I go natural or pour on the color?
I 've been teased about my gray roots before and am not looking forward to it again, but I don't have anything agianst gray hair. Tom is gray and it's sexy as hell. And if I were to go completely uniformly gray I wouldn't blink twice about it. But part of me suspects that this may be the wrong time to go gray. I'm still carrying about 20 pounds more than I can stand, 30 more than I want, and I'm afraid that gray roots will be the final straw in "letting myself go". I want to age naturally and gracefully. I'm just afraid that my natural aging process may be less than graceful.
So, what do you think? Should I go natural or pour on the color?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
And what would you like for Christmas little girl, a mass spectrometer? Part II
Why the Hell didn't I find this before I'd finished my Christmas shopping?!
Friday, December 12, 2008
I have the best baby in the world
Tonight, for like the fifth night in a row, I put Tommy to bed without incident. It was around 9:00, he'd just finished eating and was now rubbing his eyes and fussing, so I changed his diaper, kissed him goodnight, and then laid him down in the pack n play. While I was still arranging the blanket over him he started chewing on his thumb and rolled over onto his side. I turned off the light and never heard a peep out of him after that. Ryan never did that. Then again, I went to bed at 8:00 with Ryan because she broke into spontaneous hour-long screaming fits in the middle of the night. But I have to say, even knowing that I don't know much about other babies out there, I have the best baby in the world.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Score One For The Hunted
I love stories like this. Hunting has never made any sense to me, and no one's really been able to explain it to me either. People say that we need to hunt to prevent overpopulation, yada yada yada. It's true, but it's not why hunters hunt. They don't do it out of some altruistic concern for crops or vehicles or anything like that. It's not the dirty job for the Department of Conservation rookies, to go out and kill hundreds of deer. and you hear a lot of hunters say they eat what they kill, as though somehow that makes it less violent. And food isn't why they hunt. Theses people could feed their families with meat from the grocery store for less money than they spend on hunting. The license, the orange and camo clothes, the non-scented soaps and shampoos and detergents, the spray bottles of dear urine, the weaponry itself, it costs more than pork chops from Safeway.
No, hunters hunt for fun. It's some sort of bloodlust thing that I can't fathom, wanting to kill something just for the thrill of killing it. I'll kill bugs, and mice, but not for pleasure. I'll kill them because they revolt me and I feel, however irrationally, that they somehow present a threat. I can't let spiders live in my house because they might crawl on my face while I sleep or bite my children, and the same goes for mice who might also eat my food and poop in my silverware drawer. Very few hunters, I believe, fear that a deer is going to poop in their silverware drawer.
It's probably best that I don't understand the thrill-killer mentality, that in fact I believe it to be horrifying and worthy of psychological treatment. If I thought that watching something twitch and writhe in pain was fun, if I thought that cutting into still-warm flesh and gutting it would bring me joy, I'd probably be a serial killer. No, I need, absolutely need, to believe that my meat originates in the grocery aisle, that before the burger was on my plate it came from a styrofoam tray and nowhere else. I can't eat anything that was hunted, only what was purchased. No deer jerky or venison steak, no rabbit meat. Tom eats it, and Ryan has at times. I don't begrudge anyone else their "game", but I can't eat it. And I get a thrill whenever I read or hear of a hunter being attacked by his prey. As long as they're going to continue to call hunting a sport, the other team should occasionally score a point too.
No, hunters hunt for fun. It's some sort of bloodlust thing that I can't fathom, wanting to kill something just for the thrill of killing it. I'll kill bugs, and mice, but not for pleasure. I'll kill them because they revolt me and I feel, however irrationally, that they somehow present a threat. I can't let spiders live in my house because they might crawl on my face while I sleep or bite my children, and the same goes for mice who might also eat my food and poop in my silverware drawer. Very few hunters, I believe, fear that a deer is going to poop in their silverware drawer.
It's probably best that I don't understand the thrill-killer mentality, that in fact I believe it to be horrifying and worthy of psychological treatment. If I thought that watching something twitch and writhe in pain was fun, if I thought that cutting into still-warm flesh and gutting it would bring me joy, I'd probably be a serial killer. No, I need, absolutely need, to believe that my meat originates in the grocery aisle, that before the burger was on my plate it came from a styrofoam tray and nowhere else. I can't eat anything that was hunted, only what was purchased. No deer jerky or venison steak, no rabbit meat. Tom eats it, and Ryan has at times. I don't begrudge anyone else their "game", but I can't eat it. And I get a thrill whenever I read or hear of a hunter being attacked by his prey. As long as they're going to continue to call hunting a sport, the other team should occasionally score a point too.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Similac . . . From Hell!
They've found melamine in baby formula. Here, not in China this time. Yes it's trace amounts, but who knows how ingesting trace amounts of an industrial cleaner for a year will affect a child down the line? Just another reason to breast feed.
I know not everyone can breast feed. Some women have to work in service or retail jobs where pumping isn't a viable option. Some women are post-mastectomy breast cancer survivors. Some women are, knowingly or unknowingly, given medications that compromise or decrease their milk supplies. But then there are the women who just don't feel like it, and those are the ones who tend to piss me off.
Yeah, I know. Mothers have the right to parent however they see fit, and even more they have the right to use their breasts however they see fit. But for now let's assume I have the right to get pissed whenever I see fit. Okay?
Women who look down at their infant babies and say to themselves, "It's only second best for my baby," bother me with their sheer incomprehensibleness. But even worse, infinitely worse, are the ones who make us pay for it. The ones who go to WIC or who use food stamps to buy the formula. It's like (exactly like) if I went to your employer and said, "I have a baby and I want to buy that baby bottled water, and I want you to take money from your employees' paychecks in order for me to do it. Now, I have superior water at home in my tap. It is nutritionally superior to the water I want to buy. It has over 100 nutritional compounds not included in the water I want your workers to pay for. But I don't feel like using it, so hand over the money."
Yes, yes, people have choice and they can feed their kids whatever they damn well feel like. But I can hold it against them if they let their kids eat chocolate all day long, and in the same vein I can pass judgement on those who electively formula feed.
I know not everyone can breast feed. Some women have to work in service or retail jobs where pumping isn't a viable option. Some women are post-mastectomy breast cancer survivors. Some women are, knowingly or unknowingly, given medications that compromise or decrease their milk supplies. But then there are the women who just don't feel like it, and those are the ones who tend to piss me off.
Yeah, I know. Mothers have the right to parent however they see fit, and even more they have the right to use their breasts however they see fit. But for now let's assume I have the right to get pissed whenever I see fit. Okay?
Women who look down at their infant babies and say to themselves, "It's only second best for my baby," bother me with their sheer incomprehensibleness. But even worse, infinitely worse, are the ones who make us pay for it. The ones who go to WIC or who use food stamps to buy the formula. It's like (exactly like) if I went to your employer and said, "I have a baby and I want to buy that baby bottled water, and I want you to take money from your employees' paychecks in order for me to do it. Now, I have superior water at home in my tap. It is nutritionally superior to the water I want to buy. It has over 100 nutritional compounds not included in the water I want your workers to pay for. But I don't feel like using it, so hand over the money."
Yes, yes, people have choice and they can feed their kids whatever they damn well feel like. But I can hold it against them if they let their kids eat chocolate all day long, and in the same vein I can pass judgement on those who electively formula feed.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
And what would you like for Christmas little girl, a mass spectrometer?
When I was a kid, my mom would ask me to start my Christmas Wish List sometime around the first of November, and I would hand her a list 3 feet long in about a week, and continue adding to it right up until Christmas Eve. As I got older, my list went from Barbies and teddy bears to cassettes and clothes, but I always had my list, and plenty of catalog pages with the corners turned down too.
I asked my ten year old what she wanted for Christmas and this is what she said, "I don't know. Science stuff." She can't, or won't, elaborate, and the only addition she's made to the list of one is "Habbo cards". Spending real money on toy money, it seems dumb to me. SO what do I get her? She's not the average ten year old. She'd hate me if I gave her anything Hannah Montana, and she's never even seen a high school musical before. So . . . what? I can't give her a box full of gift cards, and I can't afford to get her the kind of science stuff she wants (think the Mythbusters store room plus a full forensics lab), and she's already told me in no uncertain terms how much she detests girly things like jewelry and make-up.
Ugh, Christmas was so much easier before she outgrew Barbies and teddy bears.
I asked my ten year old what she wanted for Christmas and this is what she said, "I don't know. Science stuff." She can't, or won't, elaborate, and the only addition she's made to the list of one is "Habbo cards". Spending real money on toy money, it seems dumb to me. SO what do I get her? She's not the average ten year old. She'd hate me if I gave her anything Hannah Montana, and she's never even seen a high school musical before. So . . . what? I can't give her a box full of gift cards, and I can't afford to get her the kind of science stuff she wants (think the Mythbusters store room plus a full forensics lab), and she's already told me in no uncertain terms how much she detests girly things like jewelry and make-up.
Ugh, Christmas was so much easier before she outgrew Barbies and teddy bears.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Yes, he did!
We won! Okay, not me per se. But Obama won. Tommy will grow up having absolutely no memory of a time when people wondered if this country could vote in a black president. Tom was about his age when Martin Luther King was killed for daring to dream that this could happen, and now Obama's been elected. Cool.
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