A PSA on the Miracle of Childbirth and Appropriate Use of Facebook

 I decided to take a few minutes out of my extremely busy schedule to talk about something that has been plaguing me on Facebook for the better part of 3 months now.

*cue the Sarah McLachlan music*

It has come to my attention that my Facebook friends have been procreating at an alarming rate. Even worse? These kids are actually LEGITIMATE, not teen pregnancies. So now I'm feeling ridiculously old and behind in life because I haven't popped out a kid yet.

But probably the worst side effect of all is that my Facebook Stalker News Feed is full of the most alarming content.

I'm not talking about the zillions of cute baby pictures. I actually enjoy those. I know there are some real Scrooges out there that go all HULK SMASH when their Facebook is overrun by infants, but I think all of your kids are just freaking adorable.

I'm talking about the aspects of motherhood that are gross and/or controversial and that have no place on my social media feeds.

Here are a few of examples:

1. Breastfeeding. It's natural. It's good for your baby. It's a bonding experience. I get that, I really do. But if I see ONE MORE status proclaiming that "Breast is Best!" I'm going to lose my mind. First, don't you dare think you're a better mother just because you're breastfeeding your kid. Not everyone can do it and that's okay. Breastfeeding your kid until he's 4 doesn't make you some kind of super mom. The same is true on the flip side of this coin. If someone wants to breastfeed their kid until he's 4, that's nobody's business. You go on with your breastfeeding self, lady! I'm not a mom, but I think motherhood should be a lot less bitchy and judgmental.

2. Crime Scene Delivery Photos. Again, I totally understand that birth is a natural part of the human existence, but until I experience it myself, I'd like to remain blissfully ignorant of exactly what I should expect when I'm expecting. That means I don't want to see any pictures of your kid covered in birth goo. I try to pretend you just rolled it in watery ketchup before taking pictures, but my brain keeps sabotaging that delusion. I understand that you might want pictures of your gooey newborn around just in case your kid questions if he/she was adopted or not, but social media can wait until it's been wiped clean and given a cute little outfit.

3. Placenta. NO, don't cross that off. I'm serious. PLACENTA. This only happened once, but I'm still haunted. I know placenta is supposed to be super chic right now; for example, January Jones had hers made into pills that she takes everyday. I don't think I could do that without vomiting, but if placenta is your particular cup o' tea, you'll have no judgment from me. [That rhymes! I should put it on t-shirts!] HOWEVER, sharing placental [is this a word?] photographs on Facebook is so beyond inappropriate for several reasons. First, see above for my little rant about breastfeeding. Just because someone isn't going to EAT their placenta, doesn't mean they're a bad mom. And vice versa. No judging. Second, I came across that photo on my NEWS FEED while I was EATING my lunch. Which was leftover lasagna by the way, and which you RUINED with your gross picture. There is a time and a place for placenta. Facebook is NEVER the place. And my lunch break is NEVER the time. Got it? Good.

In conclusion, I don't care how you choose to raise your kid. Unless you're teaching it to torture and/or maim animals and children or you are torturing and/or maiming your kid. As long as you're not breaking the law, how you give birth to and feed your kid is none of my business. Whatever you decide to do with your placenta is none of my business.

And that is why I am BEGGING you to stop putting these things on Facebook.

BECAUSE IT'S NONE OF MY BUSINESS AND I DON'T WANT TO KNOW! Thank you for your consideration in this matter.

The Dearly Departed

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël! (←Look, my degree is good for something!) I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season and time with their families! We do our best to enjoy their company while we have them in our lives, but what about once they pass on? It is during this time of year that many of us remember our lost loved ones in a variety of different ways;  some traditional, some not. I prefer the ones that aren't.

Person 1: "That diamond necklace is gorgeous!"
Person 2: "Thank you, it's my mother!"
Person 1: "You mean it's your mother's."
Person 2: "Nope. This is my mother. Mom, this is Person 1."

At this point it's probably not news to you that you can turn your loved ones into diamonds. (Note: I asked one of the companies if they have to be dead first and they said yes. Sad ballerino* :( ). Anyways, you may not know that there are other options too! Now you can also turn grandma into beads! The best part is that beads are only hundreds of dollars, not thousands like the diamonds. Also, you can preserve your loved one's hair and make a necklace. That's probably the cheapest option. Please note that I would advise against wearing any of these things while on a date. Unless you met the person on a necrophiliac dating site.

Personally, I don't quite understand why you would go through such extravagant trouble. I should preface this by mentioning that Kayla and I have a plan in place were one of us to die before the other. If all goes according to our plans we will die together in an intimate embrace, but there is an off chance that won't happen. In that case, we have an agreement for actions that must be taken before the coroner arrives. If I find Kayla dead, I have agreed to make sure her face is made-up. This will probably involve copious amounts of makeup applied to the wrong parts of the face. Perhaps in a rainbow pattern. Okay, probably in a rainbow pattern. If Kayla finds me dead, she has agreed to make sure my hair is styled. This will probably involve washing my hair by placing my head in the toilet and flushing as she will not be able to lift me into the shower. She will then style my hair, returning my head to the toilet--and then restyling it--as many times as necessary to insure that it's perfect.

What we haven't planned is what will happen after that. Diamonds and beads are nice and all, but I really don't see how they remind you of your loved ones. It has been my longtime intention to wear Kayla's skin like a coat. This is clearly the option that will remind the most of her and our many nights spent spooning where I am, of course, the little spoon. Kayla has expressed a teeny amount of opposition to this, but a recent purchase by the Bloggess has reassured me that this is the correct choice.

*Please see Center Stage: Turn It Up for clarification on why "ballerino" is the best word in the English language. Even though spell check doesn't recognize it as a word. (Related: I just Googled "Kenny Wormald bulge" and got a picture of an old lady. Thankfully it was not a picture of her bulge. (I guess I better add the "Hi Mom" label to this post now.))

Birthdays, "Toothpaste" Stains, & Empty Beds

This past weekend Mike and I celebrated our birthdays. Mine was the 10th and his was the 11th. We figure we're just SUCH good friends that we were destined to have almost the same birthday. Except he's 364 days older than me. And I never let him forget it. =D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, we decided to rent a hotel in downtown Milwaukee and party all weekend. We got a room with two queen beds. Mike was booking the hotel and jokingly asked if we should just get one king bed so we could snuggle, and I laughed and said, "No way. We need two queen beds for two queens!"

When we got to the hotel we were amazed at how freaking huge our room was. We could have had a rave in there. And we were super excited that we had a sleeper sofa too. Hello! Three beds?! That's like a whole extra bed we didn't even have to pay for! Plus we had five pillows each! FIVE! THAT'S SO MANY PILLOWS!!!

Once we got over the general excitement of "Yay! We're staying at a hotel! Someone else is going to make the beds and clean up after us!" we began to find little gross souvenirs from the past.

I noticed the first one on the bedskirt of Mike's bed. I started laughing hysterically and when Mike looked at me like I was out of my damn mind I managed to choke out, "Um...HAHAHA...there's a...HAHA...stain...on your bedskirt....AHHHAHAHAHAHA!"

I won't get into the details, but it was a white-ish sort of stain. We can call it a "toothpaste" stain for the sake of propriety. And just in case you were wondering, NEITHER OF US HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT.

We pulled out the sofa bed, just for the hell of it, and the mattress was so stained I refused to touch it.

I thought we were in the clear after that, but we found another "gift" when we got home from the bar. I pulled back my sheets to climb into bed and found a GIGANTIC brown stain on the side of the fitted sheet. I'm really really hoping it was coffee. But I was kind of drunk and very tired so I was like, "Whatever. I'll have them put a new sheet on tomorrow. I'll just sleep on the other side of the bed." I did accidentally touch it with my foot and had to immediately disinfect my skin with Purel.

Now, getting away from the gross and on to the funny. Remember how Mike and I got two beds so we each could have our own? Well we both woke up on Saturday morning HANGING OFF the edge of each of our beds as if we were trying to get closer to each other while we slept. Our strange little codependency has become SUBCONSCIOUS now. This shit is not normal.

Then that night after we got back from the bar I could tell that we both wanted to sleep in the same bed but neither of us wanted to admit it. So I jokingly said, "Haha I should come join you in your bed!" And Mike said, "Do you want to?" And I said, "YES!" And that's how we ended up sharing ONE bed in a room with three beds.

Seriously, though, we just don't like to be alone! Plus I think Mike likes to keep me nearby so I can protect him from any zombie/penguin attacks. You guys don't know this about me, but I'm kind of a badass.