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Political Banter
Category

  • Are Boobs Inherently Sexual?

    I had an epiphany the other day thinking about boobs. What I mean by epiphany is a decent thought worth sharing, and what I mean by boobs are those fun bags that hang off of ladies. It all started when I read an article my friend sent about breastfeeding in Mongolia. The author discusses how culturally acceptable and even encouraged public breastfeeding is, and I was totally at peace reading it until this part “My friend Buana, now 20, explained her gold-medal breastfeeding career to me: “I grew up in a yurt way out in the countryside. My mom always told me to drink up, that it was good for me. I thought that’s what every nine-year-old was doing. When I went to school, I stopped.” She looked at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But I still like to drink it sometimes.”

    Hmmmmmmmmmm… okay….

    This made me realize that for the Western mind, we see boobs as mostly sexual body parts. So when a young baby breastfeeds for the purpose of sustenance, health, and fitting in at mommy groups, it is okay. But as the baby gets older, it is hard not to feel there is a sexual component involved because we are a society obsessed with the sexuality of breasts.

    Now I am not an anthropologist or anything, but I am pretty sure that Mongolians living in yurts are not getting breast implants to enhance their sex appeal. Maybe for them boobies are not sexualized as much as they are functionalized. Perhaps it doesn’t even occur to them to question the sexuality factor because in Mongolia breastfeeding is not an intimate act, but a public one.

    Case and point…“If a woman’s breasts are engorged and her baby is not at hand, she will simply go around and ask a family member, of any age or sex, if they’d like a drink. Often a woman will express a bowlful for her husband as a treat, or leave some in the fridge for anyone to help themselves.”

    Now there is a visual to keep you entertained…

    I guess all of this would be hard to understand if I wasn’t experiencing the act of breastfeeding now. For me, my boobs are not only asexual, they are outright prude. I think they have both converted into Muslim fundamentalists, because they like to stay covered up too. And in no way, have I ever wondered if The Munch “likes me like that.”

    May 18, 2011 • 9-12 months, Breast Feeding, Mommy Body, Musings, Political Banter • Views: 3098

  • Breastfeeding in Public

    Although I am an advocate for breastfeeding in public, I get totally weirded out when people do it in front of me. Even though I do it to my friends all the time, I feel funny when I am the one witnessing it. I will tell you why… because I am looking at your boobs. Even though I am pretending not to, I am. I can’t help it. They are just there, staring at me like a Cyclops, and I am going to look.

    Now of course I think breastfeeding is natural and beautiful and blah blah blah, but it is still your boob. I don’t see boobs everyday, except for the ones attached to me, and I am bored of those.

    When the baby is really young it is easier, because they baby serves as sort of a stripper pasty, minus the sparkling dangling stuff. Point is, the baby means business, and is not letting go of your nipple or turning away even for the wonders of Cirque du Soleil. I will say however, that it can be awkward when someone looks at the baby attached to you and mentions how beautiful they are, because what are they really looking at? The top nip is still exposed you know.

    As the baby gets older, and more aware of the world, they get distracted. I could be feeding The Munch while someone shuts the door in the other room, and she will turn her head stretching my nip like taffy to check out the noise. Or lets say you and I are in a conversation and you laugh… The Munch will abandon her meal leaving me exposed to the world, just to participate in the fun. This can lead to an uncomfortable moment, because if you are anything like me, you are staring at my boob. The funny thing is, you are the one who feels like the pervert, even though I don’t feel like a flasher. What are you doing looking at my boob anyway? I am just doing what is a natural beautiful thing right?

    So my solution to the breastfeeding in public dilemma? A black bar. A black bar like they have in photos when there is a nip slip. Manufacture a black bar to magically matriculate once the nip feels the cool bite of air. That way no one ever has to feel weird!

    “Phew, now I can continue talking about my horoscope and not feel awkward…”

    May 12, 2011 • 9-12 months, Breast Feeding, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Political Banter • Views: 3241

  • The Hypocrisy of Being Green and Making Babies

    If you had one lice on your head, would you think it was a problem? How about two? Would you hunt them down and murder them, or just let them be? What about 10? Or 20? Or 200? What is the number of lice on your skull that you would tolerate before you dunked your head in toxic poison to kill them all? Sometimes I think that is how the earth feels about us. Even though I know over population is a serious threat to the environment, it is hard to come up with a solution without some sad stuff happening. I mean, I am not a mathematician or anything, but either more people have to die or less people have to be born.

    About a year ago, when I was pregnant, I saw
    this video

    I had to laugh at the irony of the moment, especially when I thought of my hybrid SUV in which I was planning to drive my baby home from the hospital. Life is such a quantum mass of contradictions. As much as I want to consider myself an environmentalist with my recycling system that would put Al Gore to shame, an organic farm that would make Michael Pollen kale-colored with envy, and guaranteeing I let every yellow mellow in the toilette, does my procreating negate all that? Is my producing another human to consume and create waste mean that I can no longer judge people for using Dawn or drinking from plastic water bottles?

    I now find myself second-guessing every environmental decision since I produced this little being of natural destruction. Take for instance diapers. Do you I use cloth diapers? But what about all the laundry? Think of all the children who die because they can’t get clean water… the same water I am washing my kids poo with. Okay, what about 7th generation diapers? They are okay, but if I use them while she sleeps, she wakes up covered in pee and I have to wash her outfit or ignore the comments at the grocery store that my baby smells like urine. So, what if I use Huggies just at night? Is that okay?

    Or toys. I don’t want her to have off-gassing toys made by babies in the developing world, so I should buy all new eco happy toys, right? But the price difference between a ruby ducky chew toy at Babies R Us, and a Sophie giraffe is $20. For a parent like me, I will get the deluxe French shi-shi option because of my belief that too many toys will condition you to be entitled. But what if you differ from my Marxist mommy style? What if you don’t have the money to afford $50 handmade letter blocks, painted with the nectar of butterfly tears collected from virgins in a local field?

    Now that I have a baby, I realize that every choice I make is a potential environmental catastrophe. How do I reconcile the fact that I am glad she is alive, but that every life is a budding threat to the health of the earth? I don’t want to live in denial, but feeling the guilt of creation rather than the beauty is exceedingly stressful. In order to sleep at night, I tell myself “it is not the number of people that is problematic, it is the way people are living…”

    April 27, 2011 • 9-12 months, Environmental Impact, Musings, Parenting, Political Banter • Views: 797

  • Presidential Race 2060

    I used to spend a fair amount of time watching conspiracy theory documentaries. If you watch enough of those at 3 in the morning, the idea that a ruling class of reptilian descendents dominates the world’s power dynamic seems quite plausible. In fact, you don’t even have to be a devote of the 9/11 Truth movement or think the electronic voting machines are rigged to have genuine distrust for politics. You could just as easily turn on your local news and feel the fear of not only your local reservoir being contaminated by the toxic sludge of a corporate interests, but also if the darn kitty will ever make it out of that tree.

    I found the more exposure to information I have, the more desperate I feel. The state of the world is already so precarious with environmental catastrophes, why is it that the people that have the most power, that we vote into office, are not necessarily the most trustworthy. I feel like I have a greater chance of getting a straight answers from a drunk gambler in Vegas than I do from most politicians. We rely on our political system to protect us, but it is that same system that is funded by an industry that prioritizes profit over people or the health of the planet.

    When I think too hard about this I want to bang my head against a pillow (a wall would hurt)… because what can I do about it? I don’t want to be a politician. I don’t like the way I look in skirt suits.

    So, I have decided to get The Munch into politics at an early age. So far she is interested in the philandering part, being a big fan of boobs, but not so sure about all that paper work.

    March 25, 2011 • 5-8 months, Mommy Mind, Political Banter • Views: 912

  • Farts: A Humanitarian Cause

    My baby laughs at her farts. She knows that farts are funny. Not all farts mind you. My farts happen to startle her. But her farts, she finds hilarious. She doesn’t even need an audience to witness her accomplishment. In the morning when she thinks I am still sleeping she will let one rip and giggle to herself.

    What is it about our own farts that are so funny? Is it simply the sensation of air coming out of our assholes? Is it the noise? Is it the possibility that we may shit our pants? Living on the edge of unknown disaster? But she shits her pants all the time and doesn’t give a care. No. There is something deeper. Something more profound.

    Maybe it is that farts remind us of the absurdity of life. That we are imperfect beings no matter how we try to mask that fact with manners and social conventions. That farting is a part of what makes us human, what makes us vulnerable, even though we have conquered the planet with our nuclear technology. Maybe dropping a bomb in our pants while smirking to ourselves is the one thing that all humans have in common? Farting unites us in the simple fact that we are all organic beings who go through life making funny noises and smells, and all are one day going to die. Our mortality hidden in each SBD we try to blame on the dog.

    So what if we got all the men (and I guess women) together who are at war. The people of Egypt, the Middle East, The USA, Israel, Palestine, Africa… everyone who is killing or terrorizing each other. Lets get them all in a room and say this.

    Me: Hey, do you find your farts funny?

    The Warring People: Why yes. Yes. That is quite true. I do happen to find my farts quite amusing.

    Me: You know what? So does the guy next to you. So do all the people you are killing. They think their farts are funny too. Don’t you realize what this means? Can’t you see the people you are trying to destroy are just human beings who also enjoy their own stench? Doesn’t it make sense that we all embrace this ultimate similarity and work together to make sure the world is safe for our children to find joy in their own flatulence? (I would use that world because hey, this is a world meeting after all and I have to look smart).

    I mean, if my baby gets the joke why can’t the leaders of the world?

    (The Munch saying “Pull my finger!”)

    February 3, 2011 • 5-8 months, Baby Body, Baby Brain, Mommy Mind, Musings, Political Banter • Views: 782