Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Babies The Bitch and The Breast Feeder


This one is long....so I added visual aids


For your viewing enjoyment

I can dig this



 I am on board with this one too.

 could someone please make me a spot of tea while me baby eats? 
whatever


seriously? 



We know she didn't take it with her phone, we see both arms.



 WTF?


Me in College..what you don't believe me?
BIG Breasts 


 To many breasts


 chicken breasts
all this is making me hungry sorry.


shit we gotta take another one, the baby is nursing

Do you guys need a moment? What's up with yall?
man that baby is STILL at it. 



 and finally.  I DID IT MYYYY WAYYYYY

 

The Babies The Bitch and the Breast feeder!


K, so I am at the mall with my twins and we sit down to eat a big pretzel.  We sit in the same place every time we go to Triangle Town Center (more appropriately named by me Triangle Clown Center), on a bench in front of the pretzel shop.  It is perfectly positioned right by a few kiosk’s that sell one shitty product after another, the jewelry store, a nauseating Yankee candle store and a bath tub product store guaranteed to send you to the drug store for Monistat!  I mean do you really need a raspberry kiwi bubble bath??  There is no WAY I could take a bath in something that burns my eyes before I can even pay for it.  Anyway…digressing again, which as you know will happen several times before I get to the meat of how I ripped the breast feeder a new asshole just after she tried to rip me one.

We are the only ones on the bench and we are sitting there minding our own business, eating our pretzels when a lady sits down with her baby.  Cutting straight to the chase… she picks her baby up out of her really expensive stroller, pops it in her lap, whips out her boob and instead of putting it in her babies mouth like she should, she lets the little guy lay there like Stevie Wonder and find it himself while she gets all comfortable.  Leaving her boob hanging right out there.  She put on some lipstick,  picked up her cell phone, opened a bottle of water and then reached down for a book.  No blanket, anywhere!  Meanwhile his head was flailing around and getting bumped by her breast until she decided to settle down and make this pleasant instead of like riding the tilt a whirl at the fair. Once he got over bobbing for boobs and realized his dinner was on the table, the little sucker (pun not intended) was in no great hurry and she certainly did not give a damn.   She opened her book and started to read, he lay there and played for a second then decided he would eat.  She still did not cover herself at all!  She had huge boobs that were streaked with blue veins and there is no way in hell that child could have gotten his mouth around that entire nipple.  A skydiver could use it as a target to land on; it was HUGE and dark brown.  Those boobs were completely and totally functional, trust me there was nothing pretty about them but she thought they were pretty.  It was really nasty how much she seemed to be craving attention and really wanted people to see what she was doing.  You know body language can tell you more than words.

Now before I go into my story, you know I have a different diatribe to go into regarding this incident, I feel the need to go on record with how I feel about breastfeeding because MY GOD people are sure as hell touchy on this subject!  I am not against breastfeeding and have nothing against anyone who does it or does not do it.  I do not pass judgment on a mommy either way because we all gotta do what we all gotta do.  I am not a proponent of doing it in public but that is ME and I do not mind anyone else doing it as long as they cover up.   With that said, I did it for 5 minutes and hated every f**king second of it!  It was just to much like work for me.  I had twins and could only get about 2 ounces out of both boobs together in one feeding so for even one of my twins it was kind of like expecting one cracker to feed an entire school full of children.  As infants, they each needed 4 ounces per feeding and they ate every three hours.  Gradually the hours between feeding would increase but so do the ounces they each needed.  So unless I was going to pull a move like making 1 fish feed 500 and THAT jig is already up, then we were doing some serious food deprivation here.  To give some perspective, before getting pregnant my boobs were a bit bigger than a double D and as I continued along the knocked up status, said boobs continued to mosey on up the alphabet ladder with regard to size.  SO, by the time thing one and thing two made their debut, you could have set up a canasta board on my chest!  So breastfeeding took on an entirely different look AND feel.  I could not even look down over my boobs and see the heads of my children whilst I was attempting to breastfeed.  It was so gross that it was actually funny but I couldn’t even stand to look! (imagine putting a quarter beside a basketball and see which one suffers by comparison)  I was worried that I would suffocate them or that they would crush under the weight of these lead balloons!  So it was suggested to me to try a tandem breastfeed. 

NOT ME! I would shoot a brotha for taking this of me!


The person who invented this should have the shit slapped out of them…. that is NOT the threesome anyone has EVER had in mind trust me!!!!  I clearly had a bad attitude about it but knew it was good for my twins so I wanted to give it the old girl scout effort.  So I enlisted the help of a woman….let’s call her Helga the lactation Nazi.  She came to my house to help me, boy she wasn’t cheap and neither was the HOSPITAL GRADE breast pump she “ordered” for me.  This thing made more noise than a bluegrass festival combined with the Mormon tabernacle Choir.   I swear it was only HOSPITAL GRADE because a hooker and a pimp designed it, and it would truly suck the nails out of a board! 

This thing could suck the thoughts right out of your head!

We plugged the machine into the wall and turned on and OMG, it made this noise that reminded us of Caddyshack.  It sounded just like Bill Murray saying, it’s in the hole. 


 one of the best movies ever!

The only thing wrong with that was that we would sit and listen to this thing while, its in the hole, its in the hole, its in the hole would run through our heads!  A month later when my breasts were so sore they felt like they had been set on fire and suffered through a few hundred games of whack-a-mole, and my nipples looked like they had been hit with buck shot, I turned that son of a bitch machine back in to Helga.  Pretty much told her if she ever came back to my house or even spoke to me if she saw me in public, I would shoot HER with buck shot, and her little machine tooooooo.

Still wanting the twins to get all they deserved and especially what was the best for them,  (enter ALL the guilt in the world here) I enlisted the Mothers Milk Bank ( YES you can BUY breast milk that comes from someone else's breast, in Raleigh. True. Really!) at my hospital, which I have to also say is the best damn hospital in the world.  Wake Medical Center simply rocks the nation.  It pretty much makes you want to throw rocks at all the other hospitals in Raleigh if your life or the life of someone you love has been saved there.  If you are at another hospital in Raleigh and something they can’t handle happens, they are going to send you to wake med.  If they can’t handle it, your next stop is either UNC or Duke or from there...I suppose the sky ( insurance company or wallet) is the limit.  I wondered while buying breast milk, who the hell breast feeds after they are done with their own?  Most women I know where so ready to stop, so you mean to tell me that women continue to do this just because they can?  I mean it certainly can't be donated from the mind twisted mommies who breast feed until the child can ask them for it.  Yes I actually know women who have done it until their children were 4 or 5!  I would bet it is not being donated by the mommies who do it to keep the breasts that keep their husbands from screwing their secretaries. 

The mothers milk bank is comprised of breast milk from any number of women that produce so much friggin breast milk that they donate it to the hospital just for the poor little mommies like me who are too weak and sickly after giving birth to produce enough of their own, for babies with no mommy OR mommies that simply have no desire to breastfeed but know the benefits.  It also serves more than this but you get the jist.  It is tested several hundred times more stringently than blood is for aids ( so I am told ) and it is a god send plain and simple!  I am a big fan of this milk bar but DAMN is it ever expensive!  We used this service until we went about $5000 in the hole. (This stuff is liquid gold!  $8 an ounce and is sold in 7 oz mason jars in flats of 12…so you do the math. Using this stuff may as well be called being high on the tit!)  Then, we said screw it they are going to have to survive on formula while we can still afford to buy the stuff.  Now that I have sort of expressed how I feel on the issue, on with the story of the babies, the bitch and the breast feeder.

The baby finally decided he would latch on to the boob that was of a good healthy size (so healthy in fact that lots of folks decided they were interested in pretzels, bath products and vacuum cleaners, yes this mommy was the proud owner of a home grown RACK!)  Men were slowing down to look, other women were looking and some of the retail clerks were taking a gander also.  I could not have cared less who was looking until I noticed my children were looking also.  Once they realized I saw them looking, they started to pepper me with questions.  I proceeded to do as I always do when my children ask me questions, I answered them honestly.  The more they asked the more uncomfortable and agitated the breast feeder got and I got.  Now I am not a big fan of doing this in public but as long as the mother has covered herself then I say fine, let your freak flag fly…I KNOW how surly a baby gets when its hungry and how sore a boob gets when its engorged.  But to sit in front of God and everybody, to not be covered and THEN to get pissy with me because my children were looking and asking questions???  If she thought that was smart, then this bitch may as well have been skipping through hell with a water gun!  It would have been about as effective!  AND after how brazen she was being about pulling them out and letting them hang, it REALLY chapped my ass that she was going to go all indignant and shy on me now!

Now begins the transfer… the kind I am most famous for.

My Son:  Mommy what is she doing?
Me:  Son she is feeding her baby.
MS: oh, why is she doing it here?
Me:  because her baby is hungry and she needs to feed him.
MS:  why can’t she go home to do it?  Her booby is out? Does she know that mommy?
Me: because she may be to far from home and her baby is hungry now and yes honey it is hanging out and I am sure she knows it sweetie now please eat your pretzel.

The Breast feeder:  takes a deep breath, lets it out, looks at us and shakes her head.  Big sigh

I cut her a look, she looks back at her book

My daughter:  Mommy she is breathing heavy, does feeding her baby make her do that?
Me:  No sweetie
MD: Then why is she doing it, does it hurt? (In a whisper) LOOK, I see her booby too
Me:  Sometimes it does hurt sweetie.
MS: It looks like it hurts!
MD:  Did you feed us like that mommy?
Me:  Yes I did honey
MD: Here mommy, like she is doing it?
Me:  No I didn’t
MS: Why?
Me:  Because I did not like to do it in public and beca  (my daughter interupts me)
MD:  Why didn’t you like to do it in public mommy?
Me:  Well honey mommy really couldn’t because I was very sick and I am just more private about some things I guess honey.
MD: Oh

The questions continue..And we were both getting more irritated by the second.  My children are really curious…and this boob was OUT there!

HERE IS WHERE IT GETS GOOD

The Breast feeder:  Looks at me with dislike and irritation and was about to comment…

Me:  I look back at her as if to say, I dare you to say anything to me in front of my children.

my children continue to look and are now talking to each other about this!!!


Me Guys I need you to stop looking at her and eat your pretzel.
My Son: but mommy when is she going to stop?
Me: looking over at the breast feeder I say   Mam is there any way you could cover yourself until we are finished, they are very curious and they are sitting right beside you, if you will please I would appreciate it.


The Breast feeder: You may NOT agree with what I am doing but you don’t have to answer their questions like I am NOT sitting here!

Me:  Then don’t sit here like you are the only one in the world and expect people NOT to stare or comment.  I have answered my children’s questions honestly.

The Breast feeder:  If you don’t like what I am doing or if you think its strange, then you can feel free to move to another seat.  You are the only with the problem and what I am doing is totally natural, sorry you are so uptight about breast feeding. You could also ask your kids to stop staring! (She rolls her eyes like that would be the end of it, she obviously had never met me.  )

Me:  Moving my children to the other side of me….I take a sip of my water, then look at her and say……

First of all, I don’t mind what you are doing, I did it  but I did it in the privacy of my own home because privacy to, is a preference.

Breast Feeder:  Well good for you!
Me: DONT interupt me!  I don’t think what you are doing is strange; the thing that IS strange about it is the WAY you are doing it.  You are sitting here with your breast out in the open and everyone walking by INCLUDING MY CHILDREN is looking at you.  It is completely inappropriate for you to do it uncovered and then look at me like I am the one with the problem for simply answering the questions coming from my children.  If you don’t want looks or questions then you should consider doing it in private.  Look around lady, do you see anyone else sitting around with their tits out feeding their children……NOPE you are the only one…so that makes you the minority, NOT me!  I sat down here with my children before you so if the looks and the questions are bothering you, then YOU go get your afternoon attention somewhere else!   And as far as it being natural, honey so is f**king, but I don’t want to see anyone do that either! 

Her eyes were as big as silver dollars, her face was void of all color and during my tirade she had managed to pack up here big ass lactating milk factory and put her baby in the stroller without even taking her eyes off me.  She looked mortified as she strolled in the general direction of Pottery Barn Kids.  Good I thought to myself, they have a wonderful little bathroom and breastfeeding area in there.

This little exchange took place in a matter of about 2 minutes and it seemed to go unnoticed by everyone but us.  I am sure someone saw or heard and either agreed or disagreed with one of us.  Hopefully from the conversation she learned that most of us think breastfeeding in public is ok, hell birds gotta eat same as the worms right?  But the classy way to do it is to cover yourself or go into a store and ask for a dressing room or a restroom.  Just my opinion and we all have one.


Thursday, July 8, 2010

Question and Answer submitted for an interview....for a job as a writer.







Question:  What is a southerner and how does one go about becoming one?

Answer:
What is a southerner?  wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn - Definition in context says that a southerner is an American that lives in the south.  Well that may be accurate by geographical perspectives but by that rationale it sounds like just any old person can be a southerner and that is just simply as wrong as rain.

I once heard someone ask her mother in law what she had to do to become southern.  This question stopped all conversation and even made a few of us fan ourselves and sit down as if E.F. Hutton had walked into the room.  We didn't know whether to drive her home or go ahead and make funeral arrangements for her.  This woman, her mother in law stopped what she was doing, put down the wooden spoon which she was using to stir a pitcher of ice tea (sweet tea that is), looked at her like she had a snake on her head and began to answer.  It wasn't the most pleasant of answers and was sourly salted with the "bless her heart" type of sarcasm that we douse our answers with when we know we are dealing with a special kind of idiot, BUT it was a good answer.  She looked over the top of her bifocals and said in a sweet, slow  and VERY southern voice, "Darlin the side of the Mason Dixon line you and your people were born on, the aggravating lack of drawl in your voice and way you write your thank you notes means that no matter how long you live here, your children's children will never be southern"!  So from that point on, my answer to this question is very simple and to the point, be born in the south.  However, a true southerner or anyone who has dealt with a southerner knows there is no such thing as an answer that goes straight to the point.  We (southerners) do everything by stories and landmarks so the only way to get to a great answer is to set out on a voyage for it.  Everyone knows that to get to old man Tucker's farm you have to go down that road over there until you get to the purple house, hang a left and go down yonder to the little church on the right and bear to the right.  Go around the bend and turn by the big oak and the red mailbox and there you are!  Go in for a tomato sandwich, a glass of tea and a slice of buttermilk pie, they love the company!  We do things quite differently here but to us it is what it is and its all we know so don't try to change us, speed us up or try to make us do things your way.  If you don't like it our way or the way we do it, highway 95 and interstate 40 run both ways so go back from where you came. 


A southerner is a person(lets say a lady) who was born here, can cook anything and everything southern you may desire while also holding a baby on her hips, wearing a dress AND designer high heels and sporting a pair of pearls that belonged to her great grandmother.  She does not complain about doing all this at the same time because all the ladies that came before her did the same thing but they did it without air conditioning.  She can change her own oil or tire (but won't do it if there is a gentleman around because why should she?).  She can gut a fish, bait her own hook and tell you everything you need to know about ACC basketball.  She went to a girls college and dated a boy at one of the colleges near her (married him too) and she juggles a career, children, church, playgroups and a book club or two all at the same time.  She is the first person to go meet the new neighbor and take a casserole or pie and will be the first one to show up to cook for you when you are sick or someone dies.  A southerner is a person who knows all to well that writing a thank you note is a lot like voting, it is not just your right, it is your duty so make sure you do it well because we talk about you!  Etiquette is a religion and we worship at the alter of Emily Post.  Her book on this topic is something southern women are given just prior to her debut into society and it is used often.  I had to buy a second copy before I was 25 because my first one fell apart.  It is a bible for the southern woman.  We know most of the stuff in it because it was drilled in us as children but it never hurts to have a reference now does it?  A southerner knows how to throw a party, the proper time to serve a bloody Mary, when to wear white, but more importantly when not to, when to plant a garden, who your mother was before she was married, whether you come from new money or old (believe me there is a difference) and who brought the seersucker suit into existence.  A southerner also knows that being southern is not just an art that is envied by some and loathed by others, it is also something given by the grace of God and a little geography.  You can move here and thanks to every magazine since the fall of the 2008 stock market, many of you have.  You may like it and you may even stay but you will never really be a part of us because you were not born in the south.









So in conclusion, to us if you are not a southerner then do not try to be southern or blend in, just peacefully, quietly co-exist, pay your bills, keep your yard mowed and for God sakes follow the restrictive covenants of your neighborhood homeowners association.  We don't care how you decorate the inside of your home away from home but please try to make the outside look pleasant by not planting plastic flowers!  Most simply put, if you are not from here (of course I mean born here) then to us, you are like the common head cold.  An irritating nuisance we can't do a lot about but tolerate, until it goes away.

Take care now, and god bless y'all.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Out of the mouth of the girl child


Exchange between my daughter and her father in the car.


Daughter:  Daddy, why did you just turn the radio up?

Daddy:  Because I like this song and this band is one of my favorites!

Daughter:  Who is it daddy?

Daddy:  U2

Daughter:  Who?

Daddy: U2 sweetie, the band.

Daughter: Me?

Daddy:  No sweetie U2.

Daughter: Me 2?

Daddy:  No sweetie, the band is U2

Daughter, shaking her head and looking out the window, mutters to herself:  HMMM, He MUST be talking about someone else.


Conversation between me and my daughter in the garage.


Daughter:  Mommy can I ride my bike in the driveway?

Me:  Sure sweetheart, let me finish what I am doing and I will open the garage door.

Daughter:  Ok mommy, can you hurry, come now I really don't want to wait!

Me:  Sure sugar, why don’t you go ahead and put your helmet on, then move your bike out, then you will be ready when I am all finished.

Daughter:  Sure mommy, that sounds like a deal.  She walks over to her bike, puts her helmet on then tries to move her bike.  Looks around at all the stuff in the garage and shakes her head.  Looks over at me and says….
Well I could GET my bike out AND be ready when you are if this DAMN big wheel wasn’t in the way!”    Damn this big wheel!

Me:  What did you day darlin?

Daughter:  YES, you heard me correctly mommy, I SAID, if this DAMN big wheel was not in the way, I could get my bike out.  Do you think you could come take care of this for me please?  Something is just always in the way or I have to wait on somebody, its not fair!

Me:  Laughing, doubled over with tears running down my face, I move the DAMN big wheel, open the garage door and watch her ride off.