No Nips, Please February 12, 2009

There’s a product on the market that you probably haven’t heard of. Unless you’re a pregnant or nursing woman, are very good friends with pregnant or nursing woman, or have the unfortunate circumstance of having a cubicle next to a loudmouthed pregnant or nursing woman, you would have no reason whatsoever to be familiar with breast pads.

Breast pads are not used to pad the bra of an A-cup gal. They are used to absorb fluid leaking from the nipples. I know, EW GROSS. Why would fluid do that? Why would nipples do that? Well, lest we all forget, the female breast is actually not merely ornamental or fun to play with. It is for feeding the infants so that propagation of the species may continue. Unfortunately, the nipples are not vacuum sealed, so they leak. Sometimes they begin leaking before the baby is even born! Hence the need to buy breast pads.

Forgive me for oversharing, but these pads are bugging me. I had a few left over from nursing the toddler, so when I purchased more, I had forgotten how expensive these absorbent circles could be. Instead of getting the most expensive brand, I opted for everyone’s pal, Johnson & Johnson. Well, they’re okay, except for one major design flaw: they’re not just circles with some adhesive. They’re circles with a nipple reservoir tip that shows through your shirt. Believe me, if you’re leaking so much fluid that you need more room in a breast pad, see a doctor. Now. If not, then why in the hell would I want it to appear that my nips are showing 24/7? No one wants to see a surly pregnant woman’s nipples. That’s gross. And as a surly pregnant woman, I don’t want anyone looking at my nipples, fake though they may be. I am not a sexual being right now. I am growing a human being and should be spared any gazing that is not directed at my face or increasingly large abdominal area.

I’m disappointed in you, Johnson & Johnson. Your baby lotion set the bar, but you’re cheapening the legacy with these breast pad nipple abominations. I must ask that you focus on the children, because what you’re doing to the ladies is embarrassing. Leave the nipples out of it.

Thanks, Tammy February 12, 2009

With the ever-changing moods of the toddler, there are an inordinate amount of fits and poutiness in the house right now. A few weeks ago, the hubby began cutting the tension by singing, “Sometimes it’s hard…to be…A WOMAN…” I laughed, hated myself for a split second, then spent the rest of the day trying to get “Stand By Your Man” out of my head. Even if I succeed, it’s inevitable that another fit will come out of nowhere, as will the hubby’s singing, and all of my efforts are fruitless.

No Flux Capacitor Required February 12, 2009

Should you ever wonder what it was like to hang out with yourself as a toddler, you don’t need to travel back in time. No, all you need to do is have a kid. Watching the toddler gleefully eat chips and dip is like looking in a mirror…34 years ago.

Easy, Yet Totally Unsafe February 4, 2009

Tennessee annoys me. The entire state is at least 10 years behind in every single trend and technology improvement. Not a week goes by that I am not irritated by the fact that doctors here won’t work past 5 (noon on Fridays), the goddamn local utilities don’t have a budget billing program, etc.

As it turns out, Tennessee has one ridiculous convenience I’ve never seen in another state: you can update your driver’s license with a new address ONLINE. No need to bother proving who you are at the DMV! All you need is the driver’s license number, the last 4 digits of the associated SSN, and a credit card to charge the measly $8 fee. Ta da, in a couple of weeks, you receive your shiny new license in the mail.

No one wants to hit the DMV less than me, but I have to say, how dumb is this state? Are they blissfully unaware of the security loophole this provides for identity thieves and illegals alike? Fucking hicks.

Oh, I See February 4, 2009

For the past week, I have been making homemade sourdough bread. It has become glaringly apparent why people no longer take the time to make bread from scratch: it’s a colossal pain in the ass. Why do it, then? Well, I’m not working now, and I’ve always la-la-loved homemade bread. I’ve also always been very intimidated by the thought of making it. All of those little quirks: the humidity messes with it, the rising is a big deal, you can totally over-knead the dough if you don’t know what you’re doing, blah blah blah.

I’ve had a recipe for homemade sourdough bread for probably 10 years, so I thought, what the hell. My mom used to make it when I was a kid, and the most vivid memory (aside from the crippling yumminess) I have of that time was that she finally stopped jacking with it because she would spend an ENTIRE day every weekend baking the shit. See, the sourdough is a unique animal: you begin with a “starter,” then feed it every so many days. Very mad scientist, right? Just kind of annoying, really.

Several days ago, I made the starter.  It has to sit out for 8-12 hours (not in an airtight container, apparently; around midday, I found the lid had been blown off of the bowl and into the floor) , then you refrigerate it for 3-5 days, at which point you feed it, let it sit out for 8-12 hours, remove some of it to make a batch of bread, put it back in the fridge for another 3-5 days, and the whole shebang begins again. You can see where this could be taxing after a round or two.

Yesterday, I finally bake the first batch of this high-maintenance bitch. And let me say this: it was worth every second. That’s all we had for dinner, actually: homemade bread. I can’t wait to make some more this weekend.