Of course the kids are feeling a bit better, while I’m seemingly getting worse. That means I’m being tackled and groped by small people while I try and rest.
Since the green snot has consumed each of us in it’s own, special way-take pity on me and read my posts over at DotMoms and Draft Day Suit. Also join me in my new found love for Choo Choo Soul and my never ending joy at mocking Kid’s Country Power.
Excuse me just a second…
motherfuckingsonofabitchgoddammitshit.
Ah. Ok.
I haven’t seen my pediatrician since April. But wouldn’t you know that Labor Day (which I’d like to now beat up) came and so did the automatic colds for my children.
Nevermind preschool hasn’t actually started yet. Nevermind it’s 106 degrees here today. Nevermind we were swimming in the pool this week. Nevermind they have been healthy all freaking summer.
It was as if both their little bodies just sensed other kids were back to school and getting runny noses, so they needed to join in on the fun. And here I thought I was teaching them to be independent leaders, not followers.
One ear infection and two fevers later, we’ve got antibiotics, triaminic, pedicare, infant tylenol, children’s motrin, and assorted tissues scattered around the house.
Fucking Fall can suck it.
You had me. I was buying the whole “I’m a professional and I no longer dress up for Halloween for ratings” thing. I even TIVO’d you, despite my usual NBC national news viewing, to see how you’d do on your first night. America cares like that.
You had the serious news face down. The straight delivery. Even the casual chatter when needed. I was buying it. My mind was going from “I’ve seen your colon” to “she’s giving me important, global, information.”
Then, it happened. I was just about to change the channel and BAM. You blew it. CBS blew it. And this woman won’t be watching you again.
They just had to have you lounge on the edge of the desk during the closing credits and dangle your legs like a cheap, smokey bar, piano act. Wow. What a quick way to WIPE OUT an entire newscast where I took you seriously.
You played the woman card. CBS played the woman card. In, what I can only guess, was an attempt to keep the NASCAR Dads viewing.
You’re better than that. And we women deserve a 2006 representation, not a 1956 one. For the “first” woman to solo a newscast, this former newscaster is disappointed. You had an opportunity to play with the big boys, show the world the talk of a woman not being able to carry a national newscast was outdated and silly, and you used your legs instead of your brain.
Dammit Katie. Like it or not, you represented many women journalists tonight. And you blew it by catering to “sex sells.” I don’t think I’ll ever take you seriously again.
With heartfelt regrets,
QofS
…or go get a latte. Whatever.
Either way, go leave me a comment at the Huffington Post.
I’m starting to get looks.
The questions are becoming more frequent.
And I really couldn’t give a fuck, other than I think you are all morons.
Maybe it’s the new push by our government to get you to nurse longer, and (hold onto your bras) exclusively. Maybe it’s all the lactavists out there shunning you if you don’t.
Whatever the reason, excuses for bottlefeeding seem to be around and accepted much easier than my VALID boob giving to my toddler. A mother says “I just couldn’t do it anymore” and she’s patted on the back and told it’s ok. While those nursing anything past it’s first tooth are whispered about by waitstaff and given dirty looks.
Now that my daughter is verbal, she can publicly demand to nurse (or “BUP!” as she calls it) and lift my shirt. That means she demands BUP! in Target. BUP! at Ralph’s. BUP! at the park, wherever. And guess what??? I give it to her.
Go ahead, cringe. No one can see you.
That’s right. No schedule here. No bottles here. The occasional sippy cup of gasp! juice gasp! And unless my hands are full and I’m super busy, she gets BUP! wherever and whenever she wants it. At 17-months-old. With no real end in sight.
I know many of you are all pro-breastfeeding until the child can ask for it. I love to know your reasons for this. And if the best you can come up with is “it’s makes me uncomfortable” sounds like YOUR problem, not mine.
Every day there is another one of these stories, talking about how uber wonderful breastmilk is and how uber wonderful it is for you to keep at it like the rest of the world.
So I’m just asking here, outloud-what is your problem? I’m doing what the WORLD agrees is FANTASTIC for my child.
Tell me. I dare you.
Better yet…tell her.
