What is that supposed to mean???

Last week a shockingly orange invitation to my 10-year high school reunion arrived.

I look forward to going. The $54* price tag hurts a bit but I'll be there nonetheless**.

Amid all the information on the invitation, here's what has me puzzled:
Dress attire: SMART CASUAL

Smart casual? What the hell does smart casual mean? I have no idea what kind of clothing we're expected to show up wearing.


*$54 for a cash bar, a "heavy hors d'oeuvres buffet and dancing. I think we're getting fleeced.

**Mr. Tonks will likely stay home. I'd love for him to go but over $100 for us to eat meatballs and dance to bad music seems obscene.

Breastfeeding

Over at Is There No Sin In It, commenter maitresse made a particularly snarky remark in regards to breastfeeding. My panties are now good and twisted so I'm going to vent about it here.

I don't understand the hubbub over breastfeeding. Really- what's the big deal? Most mothers are discreet about it. They don't let their boobs flop around, their nipples aren't hanging out for everyone to see...they're just feeding their babies!

Having been both a breastfeeding mommy and a bottle feeding mommy I have felt the pressure from all angles. It's a no-win situation when it comes to how you choose to feed your kid.

With JP, physically breastfeeding him wasn't possible. I tried. Every time he'd nurse, I'd end up with an intraductal yeast infection in my breasts. It felt like he was sucking out needles instead of milk. After four rounds of that, I gave up. Since he was a premature (and a winter baby) I felt like it was important for him to have breast milk so I pumped...and pumped...and pumped. He got the beneficial breast milk via a bottle, I didn't have to deal with nasty infections and everyone was happy. At six-months I couldn't keep up with his demand so we very gradually switched to formula.

The problem with that though was that I was (gasp) bottle feeding my baby. I had plenty people looking down their noses at me. What a bad mother! Didn't I know that breast was best! How could I feed my baby like that? Didn't I love him? Didn't I care? Didn't I want him to grow up smart and healthy??? Shame on me!

With SG we started out nursing and had no problems. She was perfectly happy to breastfeed, started refusing a bottle (no matter what was in it) around two-months and self-weaned at 15-months. It was a heck of a lot cheaper than formula and while the first six-months or so were emotionally difficult for me*, the last nine-months of nursing were great. I even remember knowing that she would wean herself soon and feeling pretty sad about it.

The problem with breastfeeding- people look at you like you're filming a porn movie if you have the audacity to do it in public. Have you no decency? What's wrong with a bottle? Can't you go somewhere else to do that? My mother's friend started harping at me when SG was just a few months old that it was time for her to go on a bottle. She didn't need that anymore. As though "that" were a dirty nasty thing.

As much as I hate this argument, breast feeding is natural and the optimial** food for babies. Our bodies start gearing up for it while we're pregnant. For as long as we're willing to do it, our bodies continue to produce milk (usually). Breast feeding isn't gross or dirty. It is what it is: a means to feed a baby. I think it's a shame that there isn't more support for it, particularly where a baby's pediatrician is concerned.

Having said that, JP was in school with a couple kiddos that were exclusively bottle fed as infants (moms talk about this stuff) and, as far as I can tell, they were just as happy, healthy and well adjusted as the kids that got the fresh stuff straight from their mom.

As a mom, you're damned if you do, damned if you don't no matter what you choose. Mothers of other infants are particularly horrid. "Oh, you bottle feed? Mmmm..." "Well wow! You're just going to whip it out and feed him now? Huh..." It's wretched! From where I sit, having endured both sides, I'd like to tell everyone here and now to shut it. How a woman chooses to feed her child is a personal decision. One she probably didn't choose lightly and something that is between her and her baby. If you don't like it, look away, leave, do whatever you need to do but don't stare and, for God's sake, keep your opinions to yourself.

*I was an emotional train wreck after SG was born. That story is a blog in and of itself.

**I really don't like hearing "Breast is best" as though bottle fed babies are somehow neglected or malnourished because they're getting formula. What's best is when mom and baby are happy. Sometimes that means buying cans of formula.

SG's stolen shoes

I took the kids to the pool for the first time this afternoon. We had a good time splashing and playing. JP, feeling empowered by the presence of a new life jacket, bravely "swam" where he couldn't touch. SG is still my water baby. She has no fear which, of course, scares the daylights out of me. All was good until we went to leave: SG's beloved shoes were gone.

SG loves shoes. The child could happily shoe shop (men's, women's, kids'- doesn't matter) all day. The shoes that were stolen were a darling pair of Carole Little Kids flip flops that I picked up at Marshall's a few months ago. They were pink with pink sequins and pink iridescent beads in the shapes of shells and fish over the top. SG calls them her fish shoes and she wears them every single day. She's even been known to insist on wearing the shoes to bed.

Of course I informed the manager (after looking and re-looking through our things and then asking the woman next to me if she would mind if I looked under her towels), left my name, tried to impress upon them how important these shoes are and carted a confused SG to the parking lot. "Where my feesh shoes, Mama?" She kept asking. "I need my feesh shoes." When we got home she searched all over for her shoes before bursting into tears, completely dismayed that her shoes were nowhere to be found.

Try as I might, I just don't understand why the hell someone stole a two-year olds shoes! I have tried to put myself in the position of not being able to afford shoes for my kid and still, I don't think I could steal from a child. My mother thinks this was some horrible child's idea of a joke. I keep hoping that maybe a little person (like SG) took the shoes and that their parent will turn them into the lost and found.

In the meantime, I'm trying to replace the shoes. SG and I went to three different stores this evening and came back empty handed (with the exception of a couple inexpensive pairs of flip flops from Old Navy which both JP and SG will wear to the pool from now on). I've looked online and found these shoes over at Zappos. They'd work, I think, but replacing a pair of $12 shoes with a pair of $80 shoes is a bitter pill to swallow. Worse still are the tantrum and tears that will come tomorrow when SG goes to get her shoes and remembers that they're gone.

Morbid thoughts update

I am not, in fact, dead!

Since I'm still feeling the effects of anesthesia and am acutely aware that my "filter" is not quite working the way it should, I'm going to leave it at that for now. Oh, and no pictures of my bloody tooth as it came out in pieces. If begged I might post a shot of the bloody gauze I pull out of my mouth every 10-minutes. It's gross and my 4-year old is mightily impressed.

Morbid thoughts

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to an oral surgeon to have a tooth extracted*. It's not a big deal. Really. So why am I thinking horribly morbid thoughts?

From what I gather, they're going to knock me out for the procedure. What if I don't wake-up? Should I write a letter to my kids telling them how much I love them? Is my life insurance paid up for this month? Does Mr. Tonks know that it's okay if he remarries, as long as Wife #2 is good to our children? Do my parents know I appreciate all they've done for me? Should I call my ex-friend and extend an olive branch?** My house could stand a good cleaning...if I die will people think me terribly disorganized and dirty?

I've been under general anesthesia three or four times before and am obviously still here. During those operations I wasn't worried about not waking up. The difference between those times and now is that I have JP and SG and when it's all said and done tomorrow, I want to come home to my babies.

It doesn't help that last week was not a good week. We had to have a new sewer system installed, our backyard is trashed and is now a big mud pit, I twisted my ankle while digging a trench under our deck (for the aforementioned sewer system), I lost a good chunk of the tooth that's coming out tomorrow and I discovered mold growing on the kids' 6-month old swing set. At this point I'm kind of feeling like, "Okay fate! What's next?"***

But, I can at least go into this "surgery" knowing that today was a good day: we slept in, played, went to JP's favorite toy store (no, not Toys 'R Us- bleh), the whole family saw the very excellent Surfs Up and we had a nice dinner with neighbors. This evening I went for a walk with my friend and enjoyed terrific conversation. In a minute I'm going to pop a couple Tylenol PM so I can actually sleep. Tylenol PM sleeps are always good.

So, should I snuff it tomorrow, I went happy. I love my kids and my hubby and life is pretty damn good. If I survive, maybe you'll get to see a nasty picture of a bloody tooth on Wednesday.

Cheers!

*It was either oral surgery or another root canal. The surgery is going to cost us around $140; the root canal would be around $1000. Since it's my back molar and no one will know it's gone, I opted for the cheapest route.
**If I were a better person I just might but I'm not. I saw her face-to-face a few weeks ago and could barely speak. I think I said precisely seven words. Hmm...if I don't die perhaps will discuss that situation.
**Naturally there are dozens and dozens of things worse in life than what I listed in the above paragraph...but it just felt like one thing after another. The Domino Effect of Life, if you will. I should suck it up and deal, no?

Keep 'em in your pants!

A few months ago while out and about, I noticed something peculiar hanging off the trailer hitch of a Cadillac Escalade. As I neared the gas guzzling monster I realized what I saw was a huge, shiny, chrome scrotum. I saw them again yesterday, this time on an older Chevy truck. Instead of chrome this particular scrotum was a fleshy peach color- complete with veining.

Can someone explain this trend? I visited a website that sells Truck Nuts and the only answer I found was, "Hang 'em if you got a pair!" I'm at a total loss as to why someone thought this was a stellar idea and why anyone would want these fellas hanging off their vehicle. What statement, exactly, does a giant set of nads make? Mr. Tonks inquires as to what has happened to the penis?

These things are so...DUMB!

*sigh*

What's next, women sporting Tire Tits on their cars?

A hearty fuck you to Old Republic Home Warranty

The title pretty much sums it up.

Fuck you, Old Republic Home Warranty! And your little minions, too.

Fuck you, Casey and Enrique, for being rude, arrogant, twats.

I hope your toilet explodes (whilst you're on it) and you are showered in raw sewage.