Boobs, Barbara and Thanksgiving

hookay, so this is a fly by for me. I got nine million things to do and only like 24 hours to do them in. Snort.

So I read an article about a chick who was busted for breast feeding her kid on a plane, during a three hour layover. Look, here's my take on that--what is the matter with you people? The kid needs to eat and he sure as hell can't fill up on the crappy pretzels and half a can of Pepsi YOU provide these days.

Jesus Effin'. I can understand the discomfort to a degree. Do I want to see your boob? Not a lot. I can look away. No big deal. Though, with a 16 year old it bothers me a bit because he's bound to see the boob, not the baby, open his big mouth and gasp, "Oooooooooh, HOOTERS!", as sixteen-year olds are won't to do. The folks who plop out a boob in front of me are far more secure than I am. I don't wanna see your ta-ta's, but I also don't wanna see your kid go hungry. So I don't care if you feed them in public, not one iota. To be kicked off a plane for it--weeeell, that seems just a bit extreme. Some women chose to picket at the Burlington Airport over it. OY.

I say, feed the kid. However, I'm sorry, if my kid opens his yap--but, well, it's to be expected. I can only imagine the car ride home with my hormonal teenager who really shouldn't be looking at your boob and gawk (because does he really get that this is your childs form of nutrition? No. he sees a BOOB, people) and want to talk about it incessantly for two days straight. He's not thinking, "Aw, cute baby" like me, trust me.

But he's sixteen. AND I don't want to have to slap my hand over his mouth and drag him away because he's seeing his first up close and personal boob in the mall where I have to make a scene to shut his loud trap. But hey, if you;re okay, I'm okay. LOLLOLLOL. Otherwise, I say whoever asked the poor lady to leave should be knocked in the teeth. I wasn't able to breast feed due to duct-non-productus, but I would have if I could have. I also would probably have covered the part of my boob that wasn't useful. However, I'm just modest like that. Snort.

I also have to say, some breast feeding mom's can be RABID. Like total freaks about breast milk. I can't tell you how many women I encountered when I had my second son at my oldests nursery school who gasped because I had a bottle of formula.

Some would ask if it was breast milk in the bottle first, I'll give 'em that. Most just went off on the theory of breast milk and how good it was for my kids brain ect. So, I had to launch into my inadequacies as a non-lactating new mother. It always made me feel like an idiot that I had to justify bottle feeding. Like I owed then an explanation? As long as my kid isn't drinking beer from a bottle, back off you crazy zealots. Some people go too far either way and it's really not your job to educate me, thanks. When I wear a T-shirt that says, "Need Info on Breast Milk--or Illiterate" do comment. Until then, lay off.

Breast feed if you want. Hell if I could have, you could have breast fed my kid too, but don't judge me because you're like "Ultimate Mom" and behave as if I'm some piss-poor reproduction because my boobs don't go the way of the homogenized.

I can tell you, I guess formula couldn't have been all that bad. Son number 2 has had only ONE go 'round with antibiotics in his 12 years--ONE. Never had an ear infection, has had two colds and missed four days of school his entire life. Oh, and he's an honor student. So I dunno if I buy the boob is best theory, ladies :)

Now onto Barbara--Streisand, that is. I've loved her since what seems like the beginning of time. I love her like I love Barry. Twould seem Barbara, in her infinite Streisand wisdom has been using her God-awful expensive concerts (you know, her "I'm never perfroming again concert, so gimme a grand concert?" Just like the one she did 13 or so years ago?), as a venue to spew her political likes and dislikes.

Here--here is where I can almsot ( I repeat, almost) see how some of the romance reading folk have that saying. You know the one, "Write, bitch, write and shut up! We don't want your personal opinions on anything--not even how we feel about your books. You're our slave to entertainment and now that you've sold yourself into servitude--do your job!" I'm sorta feelin' that right now. If I ever get an extra grand just lyin' around needin' somewhere to go--I wanna go to Barb's concert. I wanna hear you SING! I don't want to hear your political views. I don't want to hear your crazy theories on how the world is coming to an end because of George or anyone else. I don't give a fuzzy sheep's butt one way or 'tother. I'm paying out like a mortgage payment to hear you SING like the bird in a gilded cage that you are. I adore you. I want to be swept away by the beauty that is Evergreen and The Way We Were, not by a Democrat. I sure wouldn't pay that kind of money to see Al and Tipper in concert.

I can watch the news for that, thanks. So do me a favor--can the politics. You can have opinions, that's perfectly fine. Just don't have them when You Don't Bring Me Flowers, okay? Cuz you'll hear a rumble from the balcony if I ever get the chance to see you. I hate having someone else's beliefs shoved down my throat because I was stupid enough to let you hold me hostage for a grand, ya know? I'd be hard-pressed to leave because I paid good money, but I'd also be hard-pressed to not scream, "SHUT UP!" because that's not what I'm here for. Sadly, I don't have a grand just lying around looking to jump in your pocket either. Lucky you, eh? LOLLOL

Thanksgiving--it approacheth. I'm having my dad and Uncle Harry AND R. Send good vibes, say prayers, do whatever it is you do that will help me survive my mother and father who argue like toddlers over a Happy Meal Toy. My uncle who doesn't realize I'm his niece due to Alzheimers and calls me good lookin' while commenting on my thighs. My sons who cannot eat a meal on the same planet without hurling snarks at one another and poor R, who may want a refund when all is said and done. LOLLOL

Hope you all have an awesome T-Day!

Dakota :)