The Mouth @ Marie Claire

It's no secret that America is the country with the biggest battle against the bulge going.  It's no secret that our society has pushed for people to believe that this:

is the only acceptable way to be built. We all have our opinions about stuff like that.  I mean, hell yeah I'd love to have abs like that but it's never going to happen.  I lack the motivation or desire to spend that kind of time at the gym.  I effin' HAAAAAAAAAATE working out, I hate being sore, I don't get a rush from it...I have better things to do with my time.  Quite frankly, if 1 hour a day at the gym takes 7 hours a week away from my family, I'm not interested.  My time with my kids and husband are worth way more to be than the size jeans I wear or the # I see on the scale (which I own but use to weigh boxes I'm shipping on eBay-not myself).  Not to mention, I have an amazing husband who; whenever I bash my weight, is quick to say "I married you the way you are and I love you that way.  I don't want some skinny bitch, if I did, I'd be with one."  Awww!  I <3 him!

I've done my time at the gym in the past, my weight has bounced up and down from under weight to 60 lbs over weight and ya know what...skinny didn't make me happy.
I've had my friends who's obsession with their weight made me feel bad about my own.  Guess what, I'm healthy and not all of them are even still with us...going to the gym obsessively or being anorexic won't save your life.
I've even had a couple dickwad boyfriends who made snark-ass comments about my weight.  Get this, I even dated one guy who, after almost 2 years of dating me...and at the time this happened I was a whoppin' 15 lbs over my 'ideal body weight'...told me ON MY BIRTHDAY (after announcing he hadn't gotten me a present) that he couldn't see himself staying with me 'long term' if I didn't lose more weight.  ASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTASTIC!  Needless to say, that statement was met by me with a big giant why don't you go outside and play a game of hide and go fuck yourself.  Oh and if on the off hand chance you're reading this Mr. Heroin Chic Skeletore Ex...how'd that knockin up a stripper thing work out for ya?  Here's a big giant middle finger for ya, and stop IM'ing my computer randomly in the middle of the night...freakhog.

It's safe to say that my feelings about weight are well...everyone should mind their own damn business.  If you're skinny, good for you.  If you're "fat" and don't care and are comfortable in your skin and confident in who you are, then here's a giant high five and you totally rock!  I medically speaking, should lose some poundage...yup.  I've lost 8 lbs in the last 3 weeks.  Turns out that portion control is everything...portion control sucks my butt...but it works.  I'm not losing weight to look like a model or so I can be that mom that runs around in skirts to short or a bikini.  Diabetes and heart disease run in my family.  I want to be here to see my kids get married and have kids of their own...sooooooooooo reluctantly I am trying to shed a few to possibly prolong my life.  *sigh*

Now that you know my feelings, here's where it gets good.
Marie Claire, a magazine that once upon a time when I was a young teen, was extremely popular but, honestly I didn't even know was still in circulation...has a whole slew of bloggers writing for it, as do most of the mags now-a-days.  It would seem though, that Marie Claire, unlike other mags, doesn't care about its reputation or care to employ people with even a general sense of decency.

A blogger who rarely gets any comments on what she writes for Marie Claire struck some sensitive bones when she wrote this gem of a post a few days ago (don't worry if you don't have time to read the whole thing, I'll touch on the highlights for you):

Should "Fatties" Get a Room? (Even on TV?)

Where to even begin???  I know other bloggers are writing about this like mad today, but I'm hopping on the horse because as someone who's overweight and has been for probably the last 15 years, I'm pissed the hell off about this and damn it, I've got some shit to say!

Among other C U Next Tuesday-ish things, she states:

 I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair.

WOW you are a grade A BITCH ON WHEELS, and coming from ME, that's BAAAAAAAAAAD!
I find it aesthetically displeasing to look at a super skinny bony person.  I'm sure the readers would LOVE to talk about what they think of you...aesthetically speaking.  Since we're being insensitive:  I love your photo on your blog, that head too big for the body thing-it's a great look, just screams anorexic. (Ouch!  How's it feel to be bashed?  Yeah, I don't mind sinking to your level if it means taking you down a notch or 2.)  PS.  You're foundation is too dark for your body, your face looks oily and shiny, your smile is crooked and what up with the stage make-up style blush?

Are you really comparing a "fat" person walking to a heroin addict borderline OD'ing?!?  REALLY!?  God I hope you don't get paid to write for Marie Claire, because if you do, they should fire your ass with EXTREME PREJUDICE!  Reading your pathetic attempt at writing something interesting is burning my eyes...how's that for aesthetics?

And obesity is costing our country far more in terms of all the related health problems we are paying for, by way of our insurance, than any other health problem, even cancer.

I pay for my insurance.  If I want to use it on my fat ass I will.  Unless you're paying for me, shut the fuck up.

 I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk.

And as of now, they're no longer your friends because friends don't talk shit about friends like that.  And YES you are a size-ist jerk, you just said watching fat people do "anything" grosses you out!  BTW, you're not a good enough writer or popular enough blogger to make up words so take your 'size-ist' and stick it up your bony ass.

 And I also know how tough it can be for truly heavy people to psych themselves up for the long process of slimming down.

 Unless you've been heavy and lost weight...you don't know SHIT.  I'm so sick of skinny people who've never been fat in their lives saying "I know how hard it is..." NO you don't.  You've never been where I am, you've never had to face this EXACT up hill challenge.  Furthermore, people like you are half the reason it's hard for people like us to psych up for the long process.  Why bother, if we fail you're just going to try to tell us  how to do it, even though you have NO experience losing weight, or talk shit about how we should have tried harder.

 I think obesity is something that most people have a ton of control over. It's something they can change, if only they put their minds to it.

You're uneducated and ignorant about weight loss and obesity.  You should stop talking now...but I doubt you will.

  I'm happy to give you some nutrition and fitness suggestions if you need them — but long story short, eat more fresh and unprocessed foods, read labels and avoid foods with any kind of processed sweetener in them whether it's cane sugar or high fructose corn syrup, increase the amount of fiber you're getting, get some kind of exercise for 30 minutes at least five times a week, and do everything you can to stand up more — even while using your computer — and walk more. I admit that there's plenty that makes slimming down tough, but YOU CAN DO IT! Trust me. It will take some time, but you'll also feel so good, physically and emotionally. A nutritionist or personal trainer will help — and if you can't afford one, visit your local YMCA for some advice.

Wait...do you think that people who are trying to lose weight don't already real labels, try to avoid fattening stuff, eat healthy foods...I mean isn't that like, Weight Loss 101? Oh so now we're fat, disgusting, AAAAAAAAND too stupid to know the basics.  Awesome.

My ass talks shit just fine, I'm good on fiber...but thanks for that insider tip!

Walking up the stairs is a 30 minute work out for some people, but I'm sure that's not enough for you.

Working out has never once in my life made me feel good physically.  Emotionally-I have no feelings about it.

Then again, I guess these characters are in Overeaters Anonymous. So ... points for trying?

BITCH. BITCH. BITCH.  "So...points for trying?"  Holy crap!  Snark is great and can make a person laugh but here you are preaching about how they should try but being in a support group isn't good enough for you? Damn dude!  I would looooooooooove to spend an hour picking you apart-see how fast you go home and cry into your pillow.

Then again, I tend to think most television shows are a kind of junk food for the mind and body. The boob tube gives us an excuse to turn off both our brains and our bodies and probably does a helluva lot to contribute to the obesity problem, over all. So ... I don't know.

Guess in your amazing non-tv watching world you've never heard of Discovery Channel, History Channel, National Geographic Channel...I can keep going if you don't get the fact that these are not just junk food.  Check them out if you're not too afraid that the TV will make you fat.  "So...I don't know" is a great way to establish some report with your writing and show your readers that you are informed about what you blog about.  :headdesk:

What do you guys think? Fat people making out on TV — are you cool with it? Do you think I'm being an insensitive jerk?

I think this that ever "fat" person in America should strip down to their skivvies and take a photo of themselves and mail it to :

Marie Claire Magazine

300 West 57th St., 34th Fl. New York, NY 10019-1497
Attn:  Super Bitch Blogger

so you can hork in the tiny little garbage can in your tiny little office cubical!  HEY!  Think of it this way, we'll all be helping you to maintain a healthy weight...just open our photos after you eat lunch!


*** Sigh ***


She writes at the top of her post that her editor asked her if she thinks people are uncomfortable seeing fat people make out on TV.  Nice.  Way to pass the buck on a blog post you KNEW would cause problems.  Why not grow a set and tell your editor that even implying this is a good thing to post about, or a question that's even appropriate to ask is douchetastic and a sign that they're not cut out for the job they do...rather than offending hundreds of thousands of people and having to eat crow in your lame ass attempt to justify your post and apologize.

As for your apology:

And for whatever it's worth, I feel just as uncomfortable when I see an anorexic person as I do when I see someone who is morbidly obese, because I assume people suffering from eating disorders on either end of the spectrum are doing damage to their bodies, and that they are unhappy. But perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to judge based on superficial observations.

It's my body.  If I want to damage it, I will.  It's the only thing I own outright and I will treat it as I choose.
I am one of the happiest people you would ever meet.  I bitch about stuff on my blog because it's fun.  I wake up every morning to a handsome man, a beautiful family, an awesome house, and I get to work for myself and pretty much do whatever I want all day long.  My life literally couldn't get much better than it is!  You should not only not be so quit to judge based on any observation you make-as they're obviously skewed-but you should take a long hard look in the mirror and each thing that you see that you don't feel is 1000x absolutely perfect, you should write in a blog and post a photograph of it, so that those who you've hurt, can show you what it feels like to be on the other end.  "I'm Sorry" doesn't always cut it.

To that point (and on a more personal level), a few commenters and one of my friends mentioned that my extreme reaction might have grown out of my own body issues, my history as an anorexic, and my life-long obsession with being thin. As I mentioned in the ongoing dialogue we’ve been carrying on in the comments section, I think that's an accurate insight.

OH!  So the skinny bitch who admits she starved herself and has a life long obsession with being thin is grossed out by fat people.  BWAHAHAHAHAHA!  Shit!  If I'd read that before I got to this point in my blog, I would have been a lot meaner to you!  You have NO right to talk about anyone's weight.  Way to succumb to societies expectations of you!  At least I can hold my head high and say I've never once let society tell me who I should be.  *Shakes head in disbelief*  Go home and eat an extra large pizza.  Skip the gym for a week.  Put on 5 lbs, you could probably use it.


As for Marie Claire...

It's sad to see that Maura Kelly's post has not impacted you as a company in any way.  I had hoped that something worth while would come out of this train wreck of bad editing and worse taste...but aside from her pathetic attempt to smooth things over with your fatty readers, nothing.

See there's a difference between writing a blog like mine, for myself and my readers, for no real reason but for fun; and doing it for a company.  She represents your business and each of your employees, and does it quite poorly at that.  Every single person who works for you; from the CEO to the people running your print presses, should be embarrassed that Marie Claire supports someone writing this and worse yet-allowed it to be posted.  I hope there's some big mean fat bitch working somewhere in that office building who lays down a few good punches on Miss Maura's 'perfect' little face.

As for Maura:

In your 30's and never been in love before.  It's simple.  You have to love yourself before you can fall in love with someone else.  Good luck with that.

I'm not one to cram being politically correct down anyone's throat.  I believe in our 5th Amendment right to freedom of speech and I believe that also is the freedom to be a bitch with what we say sometimes but that post is nothing but an eating disorder pot calling a kettle of the same material black, a horrible business choice on the part of Marie Claire, and an example of horse shit editing.  Shame shame shame on you & your magazine.


And just in case you wondered, Maura...here's what "fat" and happy AND BEAUTIFUL THE WAY I AM looks like:

On my wedding day 2008 (size 18 in case you wondered)

With my baby boy 2010

With friends 2004

Screwing around at home 2002

One of my faves 2009

Wicked Wordless Wednesday

I suck at this Wordless Wednesday thing, I always seem to have something to say on Wednesdays...I have a big post about fatties coming up later.  NO, its not anti-fatties...trust me.

WICKED WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Happy Halloween, Everyone!

Rockin the sleep talk

I got a whole awesome 2 or so hours of sleep Monday night.
Let me just state that I require a minimum of 5 hours to make sense, 6 to function semi effectively, 7 to make it through the day without brain farting at 2pm, and 12 to make me a really happy girl.
Yeah.
I reiterate;  I got TWO.

I held it together fairly well until about 7:30pm.  At this point I found myself staring at things and totally space truckin'.

This is when one of the awesome conversations my husband and I had occurred!

Him:  Hey, where are those papers?
Me:  What papers?
Him:  The ones from my work.
Me:  How should I know?
*I zone out even more at this point*
Him:  They were on your desk, what did you do with them?
Me:  I don't even know what I did with my face!
Him:  WHAT????
Me:  MY FACE, MY FACE!    (I <3 you Kayla!)
Him:  You are sooooooo weird.
Me:  I stopped listening, are you still talking?

Of course by this time I had found his papers.  Who says something like that?  THIS GIRL RIGHT HERE!

Doot Doot Dora

So I'm never up at this ungodly hour unless my son has decided he can't sleep...and I'm a huge storm freak, storm chaser, natural disaster photographer...but this storm system coming through Chicago right now has my panties all tweeked in a bad way and I can't freakin sleep.  My house is 153 years old, it has seen more than its fair share of bad weather.  I have lived here for 4 1/2 years and NEVER have I heard this house make the noises it's made tonight.  Plus 1000 curses on the people in our town who decided that moving the tornado sirens OUT OF TOWN was a good idea.  Yeah...a big giant up yours from us moms who sleep a little less well during storm season!

So since I'm up and already drinking coffee at 5:50am, why the hell not blog between my pacing from one window to another pissed off that it's too dark to see outside...then coming back to the computer to check up on Reed Timmer's TornadoTV crew who happens to have 2 of their vehicles oh...a few towns away (rarely a good sign unless you're hoping to meet Aunty Em and the Lollipop Guild).  I do have to admit this blustery weather makes me want to bust into a round of "And the rain rain rain came down down down, in rushing rising riv'lets...and the river crept out of it's bed, and crept right into Piglet's!"  followed immediately by dancing around the house with this awesome grocery store find that my Moose just HAD to have...

while singing:  

"A Heffalump or Woozle is very confusel

The Heffalump or woosel is very sly - sly - sly - sly
They come in ones and twoosels
but if they so choosels
before your eyes you'll see them multiply - ply - ply - ply"
Good luck getting THAT one out of your head today!

So as promised on my Facebook page yesterday, I have been plotting and planning...ok more like it popped into my head yesterday, to blog about my irritation and observations of some of the kid's shows out there.

There are a handful of shows that I love.  Wizards of Waverly Place, The Penguins of Madagascar, and Phineas & Ferb are hands down my faves.  That being said, there are a few that make me want to start off by poking myself in the eye, then call the writers and ask what the hell they were smoking when they came up with their lame ass ideas, followed by finding them and poking them in the eye.  Just cuz.

I guess I will start with Max & Ruby.  Ruby & Max.  Max & Ruby.  Ruby & Max.  Max & Ruby.  Ruby and her little brother Max.  I mean for starters, could there be any less creative thought put into the theme song for this show.  Giant eye poke people!  GIANT!  I know it's a kid's show but come on.  Earn the money you got paid for creating the title sequence!  To top it off, you can actually go to the Max & Ruby website and download the song.  Because wouldn't that make an awesome ring tone!??!  And what the hell.  Where are their parents?  Ruby is young enough to be in Bunny Scouts or whatever the hell she calls it...and she has an adult leader for her group so she's obviously still a kid...albeit a bossy domineering kid.

Why hasn't grandma bunny or someone else called Dept of Child & Family Services on Max & Ruby's parent's yet?  They're obviously never around and the kids are home alone all the time.  Have their parents ever thought about the psychological damage that is being done to Ruby by having to care for her younger brother while she herself is still a child??  News flash Mr & Mrs Bunny...just because grandma lives right next door does not make it OK to leave kids home alone!  Then there's Max...isn't he just a gem.  That kid does everything and anything to upset his sister.  He plays with loud toys while she's on the phone, he intentionally disobeys her, he's just a little shit!

The hosting channel (Nick Jr.) says that the show "offers an empowering message for children by showing Max and Ruby playing together and resolving their differences in ways that are respectful and supportive."  That's funny.  From what I've seen, it should say..."the show offers older children a chance to learn how to be bossy and rude while attempting to control younger siblings while teaching young children how to ignore rules and show a lack of respect to your peers."

This takes me to Kai Lan.  A show that I thank God every day, my kids don't like.
Why?  One of the animals is always throwing a temper tantrum, acting like a baby or pouting.  Sorry boys and girls, I know that happens in real life too, but the last thing a mom of 4 needs is a show with cute animals acting that way to encourage kids to do the same.  Now, I realize they always resolve their problems, cuz...they got it, they got it they really really do, they got it, they got it, they know just what to do!  But trust you mean, watch enough Wonder Pets and tawking wike da duck betomes coo...watch enough whiny animals and risk having whiny kids...thanks but no thanks.  Maybe instead of making paper kites and playing with balloons Kai Lan and her friends should go to some self esteem conferences so they learn how to put on their big kid undies and deal with not always getting their way.



Last but not least on my rants for today is Yo Gabba Gabba.  What the fuck kind of acid trip inspired crack head show is this?!?  There is a fine line between creative and creepy and this show crossed the line somewhere in the dressing room, looooooooooong before ever hitting the stage.  I can deal with the evil fanged blue cat thing...and even the pink teletubby resembling pink flower head thing.  Hell, I can even deal with the other critter things.  But dude.  What the shiz is with the orange fuzzy hat, giant glasses and heroin chic skinny dude who's WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too excited to be there.  Kinda takes me back to the old days of Blue's Clues...ya know...before his way too excited human overdosed on illegal drugs.



Of all the weird shit that happens on this show, I think what disturbs me most is when they eat something and then sing "There's a party in my tummy...SO YUMMY SO YUMMY!"  It's not so much the little chant...trust me, you hear it in our house at least 12 times a day.

*Funny side story...when I was pregnant we started calling my little guy Moose, which turned into Mooskers.  One day, one of the kids walked by, rubbed my belly and said "You have a Mooskers in your tummy, so funny so funny" I laughed my ass off!  Looking back now, I'm glad she didn't say "so yummy so yummy" that might have been creepy.*

Anyway, it's not the chant, its the visual!  Kids have awesome imaginations.  What do you think some of them think that means?  Hmmmm...I'm going to eat this piece of *whatever the hell food*...and then once it's in my tummy, where my stomach acid will quickly eat it away to nothing, it's going to suddenly develop a face and sing along with me?!?  Yeah.  That's a great way to put kids in therapy!

OK so not all kids understand how digestion works, but still...hormendous amounts of creeponess.



There seems to be little to no sense behind some of these shows.  It's like we got so wrapped up in trying to be creative that we've gone off the deep end to straight up bizarre!  Don't get me started on Spongebob or what they've done to Cookie Monster.  I know there are millions of Spongebob fans out there, I'm uhm...not one of them.  There are no pineapples under the sea.

So today, I am thanking God that after we got to watch Handy Manny hit on the chick who runs the hardware store (yeah, you know they've got a thing goin!) our cable went out due to 55 mph winds and I shut off the TV.  YAY!  Cross your fingers that it's back on by Sons of Anarchy time or mommy might cry.

What I learned this weekend...

The Hubs and I went out Friday night for our anniversary dinner.  It's 2 anniversaries in one...3 years actually married and 17 years since the day we 1st started dating.

In honor of our love and years of togetherness...we got some really big killer steaks and then wandered around the town we grew up in for a while.
Then Saturday night we had our annual Halloween party.  Awesome time!

This is what I learned Friday night at the bars:
*  I'm not young anymore
*  Drunk people are REALLY loud
*  Paying $9 for a drink is stupid, at my house that same drink only costs me $1.50
*  My ex's are total tools.
*  The bars were full of sluts when I was young...some things never change.
*  Some of my ex friends are total tools.
*  Some women really are happy just slinging drinks their entire life.
*  I like music loud...but not there is no number of drinks that makes me suddenly like bad music loud.
*  Drunk people are really irritating
*  If you're that drunk chick hanging off people, with half open eyes, screaming and slurring  no matter how hot you were when you were when the night started...you're not anymore, now you're just disgusting.
*  The dead bars are the best.  Less idiots.
*  Mating rituals of bar regulars resemble mating rituals of the Frigatebird (see link below)
                some weird dancing, flexing of muscles, strutting, and loud noises.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5VMAlpaSQM
*  Getting older and more mature is a blessing not a curse...thank God I'm not a bar fly anymore!

Saturday night was a whole different animal.  Our annual party used to be mostly a family affair.  While it's still a fairly small gathering of local friends and family members...the last few years the kids have invited friends from school.  There are some super classy people out here that I absolutely love love love...and then there are some people that give new meaning to the term white trash.

I met one such defining personality this weekend.
When you're child chooses a friend in school, you hope to God that they make a good choice.  One of my kids has the sweetest sweetest sweetest girl as a best friend.  I adore the child, and her mother.  The little girl is well behaved, well mannered, extremely polite...and the mother is very respectful and kind.  Both are welcome here anytime.  The little girl was not with her mom this weekend, she was with her dad...who I'm pretty sure showed up at our house drunk and possibly on something.  I had never met this man in my life but he introduced himself with a hand shake while wobbling back and forth and speaking in slurred fashion that brought back memories of other awesome trash we have dealt with in the past.  We explained that parents were welcome to stay (especially if they don't know us...I know it's important to be comfortable with leaving your child at someone's home) or they could leave and come back later to get their kid.

This is about the time his girlfriend/wife...honestly I'm not even sure which she is...got out of the car and walked up.  Ya ever meet someone and the 1st time you look at them you can tell they're just not the kind of person you normally associate with?  Yeah.  It was one of those moments.  Then she opened her mouth.  She had grown up in the same area I had and when she started throwing out names I realized that while we had been friends with some of the same people, I had quit talking to most of those people when they served their 4th or 5th jail sentence...in most cases while still in high school.

As the night progressed it was interesting to watch the dynamic between the handful of people we did not normally hang out with, and my friends.  I cringed a few times at the thought that my actual FRIENDS might think I was friends with this couple too.  It was that bad.  She yapped on and on about needing a job and at one point, she literally NO JOKE offered to "do anything" (with a wink) if one of our male friends, who happens to run his own company, would give her a job.  Needless to say, once they had gone, those of us remaining had something to talk about.

Another couple came to the party, and not 2 minutes into being here, the adult male was receiving very upset phone calls from his ex wife who was not happy that he was over at our house (yeah...her and I don't get along so well...although she has no problem sending her kid over here to play with our kids every day so we can essentially babysit him).  Again, a situation where I barely knew the dad but the kids are friends.  His girlfriend was cool.  Nice, intelligent, good conversation, dressed very well and a hell of a lot prettier than his ex wife.  The kid's dad seemed very nice...but with a ton of people here and lots of other parents from this town...they sat on my couch and watched 2 Harry Potter movies and chatted only with people who came and sat down in that room.  Not exactly what I do at parties for fun, but to each his own.  I chalked it up to it being a small town and him being uncomfortable with his recent divorce situation and how dramatic it had been for a while.  As always, his kid was a delight to have over.

So here is what I learned on Saturday night:
*  It's ok to qualify to your good friends that someone attending the party by default is not really your friend
*  Just because one parent of a child is a decent person, does not make the other the same
*  There are people out there willing to do ANYTHING to get a job right now (though I think she would do anything to my friend just for kicks, job offer on the table or not)
*  My twin makes the best apple pie shots ever
*  My friends are very neat people, our house barely even needed to be swept after the party!  Thanks guys!
*  Sometimes you're better off NOT saying "Yeah I knew/know them"...if you have nothing in common, perhaps they won't stay
*  My couch is very comfy and Harry Potter rocks

I suppose it's comforting to know there are some things you can always count on remaining true:

*Drunks will be drunks and while the years may go by, drunks are always the same
*The things you thought were awesome as a young adult, mean less and less as your priorities mature
*Sluts will be sluts and there's not a damn thing you can do about it except laugh at them and thank your lucky stars that you're not in their platform see through plastic shoes
*You can reach out to people but that doesn't mean they'll reach back and that's so not your problem
*Your good friends know the difference between slumming friends and people you really don't know
*You can dress trash up in a fancy suit or designer jeans but a garbage bag is still a garbage bag even with glitter on it.

and last but not least:

*We may grow older, get hang overs easier...we may gain weight, start wearing mom jeans...we might pay mortgages instead of buying rounds at the bar...that girl that worked with you and was so young is still so young and you're still way older than her...but look around at your life.  I don't know about you, but if someone said I could go back 10 years and live it all over again, I'd say "Hell no!".  It really does get better with age.

Frickin' Friday!

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah buddy!  The weekend is almost here!

I would like to say that I have something insightful or funny or inspiring to say but I don't.

What I can say is this:  There are a handful of fun products on the 21st CDG Store page on here.  The direct order page is not up yet, but if you are interested in ordering, just shoot me an email and I can send you through paypal for now.

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Formula 1, 2, 3

Baby formula has been around for a long long time.  I get it...boobs have been around longer.  I would bet that most moms plan to breast feed their children but sometimes things happen and that's not possible.  As a mom who was forced to formula feed (but incredibly glad that it went that way) it makes me want to throat punch someone when they get all hoity toity about their breast milk and have the nerve to imply or worse yet, SAY that the best parents breast feed.

Let me tell you a little story.

When I was pregnant with my Moose, I decided that breast feeding would be best.  I wanted him to have the benefits of all that breast milk has to offer as far as immunities and pretty much being the worlds perfect food for human consumption as far as fat content to nutritional value.  I read the Bradley Method book (Husband Coached Child Birth) and I'm not even going to get on that subject today...and then I read the book The Womanly Art of Breast Feeding.  I was all stoked and ready to go.  Well...I was ready to go, can't say that the idea of a baby hanging off my front side ever really STOKED me.

23 hours into my labor, Moose's heart rate began to drop significantly with each contraction.  Each time it dropped, it took longer for it to come back up to normal, then it stopped coming back up to normal.  My BP had gone up to 197/128 and the decision was made to do an emergency C-Section.  You natural birth nazis can say whatever you want, but my little guy was stuck due to a combination of 75th % head circumference...me having a smaller than normal pelvic opening...and him being at a really really jacked up angle.  If they had waited and allowed me to try to birth naturally, he would have died.  And I may have stroked out due to my increasing BP.  It was THE RIGHT decision hands down and I know that every time I look at my baby boy. (Just for the sake of not ruffling feathers...there is a difference between pro natural birth people and natural birth nazis...we will cover that another day.  I am pro natural birth, but when medical conditions arise that could be fatal to mother or child I'm all about doing a c-section).

When Moose was born, he had what they first told us was a cyst under his tongue.  I wish I had a photo of it, it was really something to see.  It wasn't small!  Picture this:

but blue, and in his mouth...and minus the frog.

 It was a HUGE blue bubble under his tongue that was so large that it forced his tongue to the top of his mouth.  He couldn't get a nipple (mine or bottle) in there at all.  They called for a specialist, and then he called for another specialist.  the following afternoon (almost 24 hours later) they drained the bubble...turned out it was a blocked salivary gland.  Yup, my baby boy was born with a giant blue spit bubble!  Sadly it came back, then was drained, then came back again...over the course of 2 months we battled this thing.
You will be happy to know that it hasn't affected his speech.  He is 10 months and has a vocabulary of 27 words and 5 phrases (which = a proud mama!), I'm sure it's because he has a huge brain inside that 75th% noggin of his!!

Anyway, the LC (lactation consultant) at the hospital was awesome.  She spent hours and hours and hours working with me and the Moose.  No go.  I went home and worked and worked and worked...no go.  The bubble just made it too hard for him to latch.  After 3 weeks of trying I gave up but I pumped for every single meal, every hour and a half, all day and all night long for 6 weeks...even through a few tear filled nights of me looking at my husband and exclaiming, "LOOK AT ME!  I'M LIKE A FUCKING COW AT A DAIRY FARM!  THIS SUCKS!!!  I HATE THIS!" (which always ended with us both laughing our asses off...).

When I was pumping, I had to supplement with formula.  Even though I pumped every hour and a half roughly, ate the stupid lactation cookies, drank a shit ton of milk, ate oat meal until I thought the site of any white haired old man in a black coat and cowboy hat would make me hork...I was never able to pump enough for his entire meal.  It started off as me producing ALMOST a full bottle for him...but by the 6th week, I was producing less than a third of each bottle.  Did you read that slowly enough to let it sink in?  I pumped...every hour and a half...for 20 minutes...to only get 1/3 of a bottle worth of  breast milk...and I did it for 6 weeks.  I'd like to know how many other women are stupid enough to do that.

At week 6, I got sick.  My medical history is also a story for another time, but suffice it to say...crossing military blockades in areas completely devastated by an epic hurricane only 48 hours earlier...not wearing a mask and tromping past bodies, rotted food and sea life, and around moldy giant rolls of paper...is not the healthiest decision one can make.  As a result, even 5+ years later, when I get sick I get SICK.  It was  bad enough that I needed heavy antibiotics, and I was told I would have to pump and dump for 10 days.  Pump and dump when I'm only getting 1/3 of a bottle each time...fuck that.  I was done.

If you're one of those people that wants to talk shit and say I should have tried harder...that wants to say that I should have dealt with being sick and kept pumping...to say that I shouldn't have given up on feeding...to say that you're a better mom than me because you provided breast milk to your child when I chose to switch to formula...email me and I'll be happy to give you my address so you can come say that to my face.

Some of the best moms I've ever known in my life (my mother included) formula fed for all sorts of reasons, both by choice or because of a set of circumstances out of their control.

Some of the worst moms I've ever known in my life have breast fed and been all wonderful 'it's a bonding experience' while their rack put out milk by the gallons only to neglect and beat their kids later in life.  I photographed a baby months ago whose mom insisted on breast feeding but even when he was 2 months old, her milk wasn't plentiful.  The baby looked like he was starving.  He was skin and bone and a color I have never seen a child before.  Her breastfeeding did NOT make her a better mother.  She was starving her child because she refused to supplement with formula.  That makes her a horrible mother.

Being a good parent is not some magical chemical that is housed in your tits.
Your boobs are not magic.  They will not end world hunger, they can not provoke world peace.  They can't stop genocide.  They can't keep douche bags like Michael Vick from abusing animals.  They won't make your child a better member of society or prettier or happier or Lord knows, more well fed.

Guess what.                             IT              IS              JUST            FOOD.

My baby is healthy.  He's gonna be a shorty because both his daddy and I are.  He's 50th% for weight, 50th% for height and 60th% for head circumference (yeah, his body's finally catching up to that big beautiful head).  Does this look like an unhealthy face:

I'm not against breast feeding, but how about those of you who can and do breast feed back the hell off and stop trying to make the rest of us feel bad.  

Want to join the movement and show your support for mothers who choose to formula feed or who are forced to formula feed?  Check out our Facebook page!  

http://www.facebook.com/pages/I-Formula-Feed-and-Im-an-Awesome-Parent/160488003974324