1. This blog may look nutty from now until Monday. I'm migrating TheFeministBreeder to a new platform for more flexibility. I have no idea who this will go, so please be patient and don't ditch me just because it may get ugly around here for a minute.
2. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (pretty please) update any links or bookmarks you have to this site to the following address: http://www.thefeministbreeder.com - As long as you're linking to that address, you will always be directed to my blog no matter where it sits. If your link has any mention of "typepad" in the url, that link is not going to work pretty soon.

Okay.  Deep breathe now.  Wish me luck.

This was the case I referred to in this post.  Enjoy! Spread it around! 

View more news videos at: http://www.nbcchicago.com/video.

...If this conversation doesn't end up on Lamebook, I don't know what will.

But no matter how many times I talked myself out of it, I kept coming back to the idea.  Honestly, the sight of some friend’s babies with their adorabley cloth-clad bottoms made me think that there had to be a way.  The cloth diapers were just too stinkin’ cute! (no pun intended.)

Then I stumbled on a cloth diaper package for $37.00, which included pre-folds diapers, Thirsties Covers, and a Snappi.  That was a sum I could actually afford, and if I absolutely hated it, it was no big loss.  So I decided to take the plunge and order 2 packages along with a few extra covers.  One of my playgroup moms even hosted a cloth diaper meeting so I could see all the various styles and methods for putting them on baby.  I also spent many days online watching tutorials on how to wash and use pre-folds, and by the time the diapers came I was ready to hit the ground running. 

As it turned out, I loved using the cloth.  They were easy to get on and washing them was not nearly the complicated chore I had envisioned.  I loved how my sons looked in them, and I felt really good about not filling up landfills anymore.  The husband was very happy with my purchase too, and our only regret was that we had waited until our second son was 8 months old to make the switch.

When I do something, I like to do all or nothing.  I told myself that if we were going to make the switch, then we would never, ever buy disposables again.  I wasn't sure how realistic this was, but this thinking was more a financial one than some grand conviction.  I just wanted to make sure that I got 24/7 use out of this.  It was hard to convince my husband that moving to cloth would be cheaper in the long run anyway, so I felt pressure to keep my word.

But 3 weeks in, I realized that as well as the cloth diapers were working during the day, overnight was really a different story. They never leaked, but after 12 hours straight in the same diaper, the boys woke up smelling absolutely awful.  Sometimes my younger child woke up only crying only because he was too wet and needed a change.  That got me pretty down about the whole process, but I talked to some friends and realized that sometimes overnight is a pretty tall order for a cloth diaper, at least the kind I had, so some of them used disposables at night instead.  I decided to cut myself a break and buy some disposables just for bedtime use only.  That turned out to be just what the doctor ordered, and it made me feel so much better about taking on cloth mostly full time.

Our family went from using around 10-12 disposable diapers a day, to using only one per night for each boy.   The whole transition was relatively painless, and I would encourage anyone interested to give it a try.  Whatever obstacles you may believe exist, chances are, there’s a simple, easy solution.  We’re saving money, the diapers are adorable, and we feel really good about limiting our contribution to the local landfill.

So how did you make the switch?  I want to hear all about it.

______________________________________________________________________________

This post was written for ParentingByNature.com and their "Blog to Inspire" contest.

Just. Goddammit.

*stomping feet on ground*

UGHGH!!!

I’ve read all four books, plus the unreleased “Edward version” of Twilight.  I also own the movie, and my adoring husband already pre-purchased my tickets for “New Moon” when he was being extra thoughtful one day.  I’ve made two custom Twilight cakes for customers (<------one pictured here) and I’ll go so far as to admit I own an Edward Cullen shoulder bag.   Okay, so maybe I even almost lifted a full size Edward Cullen cutout from the Hot Topic at Yorktown Mall.  Go ahead and laugh your ass off, I’m not ashamed.  That character makes me feel like I’m in heat for the first time in... wait...how old is my son?  That’s right - 3 years, 3 months, and 3 days.  That’s how long it’s been since I wanted to rub myself against someone.

But, it seems that few in the feminist community share my love for this series.  It downright pisses the ladies off.   I get it... I really do.  You have a hapless female lead who’s tripping all over own feet - until along comes a beautiful, mysterious man who rescues her from herself.  Problem is, he could kill her quicker than she could scream “domestic violence” and he controls every move she makes in an order to “protect” her from others.  But even though he’s lethal, she’s madly in love with him and becomes suicidal when he tries to leave her.  She lusts after him incessantly, but he denies all her advances for fear that she will corrupt him. She then ultimately sacrifices her life in order to be with him because being his partner is all she dreams of doing with the rest of her days.

Wow... sounds like a super functional relationship, right?  Is it any wonder that the feminists are angry?

Well, I see it a little differently.  We’re talking about literature here.  It’s Art.  Fiction.  It’s not oppressing anybody.  So, Why so serious, ladies?

I suppose that some could argue that this book tells impressionable young girls, who are the Twilight saga’s core audience, that Bella and Edward’s relationship is somehow a model of what real loving relationships should look like.  I definitely wouldn’t want my teen thinking that that.  But come on – since when did art have to be anything but an outlet?  Since when did fiction have to be anything but an expression of fantasy?  Books are meant to be an escape into a different world.  Meyers is not trying to indoctrinate our youth.  She simply had a fantastic story to tell, and it happened to have resonated with young, hormonal girls (and desperate housewives all over this country.)

I fear that the people who make the moral or feminist argument against this series are also the same people who claim that Marilyn Manson causes teens to shoot up libraries.   Rock music does not make monsters out of children, and Stephanie Meyers’s Twilight series is not going to single-handedly turn our bright, feminist daughters into Stepford wives.  If your teen daughter does not know what a healthy, loving relationship looks like, then you’ve got bigger problems than Meyers writing a few novels of questionable literary value.

It’s a book.  Before you go burning it, decide whether you really want to be burning other female authors’ works simply because you do not find them entertaining. 

I, for one, like escaping into a world where lust, danger, love, action, adventure, and mystery can be wrapped up into a one series that makes me feel the orgasmic aching of Passion again.  Can't you just see the sizzle coming off that word?  Remember, the fleeting hot love that existed before babies and mortgages and washing machine repairs extinguished any fire in your loins?  These books are an indulgence, and I think Meyers hit herself a home run with these stories.

And that is The Feminist Breeder’s word on it.

Now discuss..........

(t-shirt available at http://shop.cafepress.com/design/33641744)

The first is a Rockabye Baby! music giveaway, and the contest ends in 6 hours - so get crackin!

The next is a giveaway of a fantabulously hilarious novel called "This Little Mommy Stayed Home."  It's just too good, so go try to win yourself a copy.

Now Git!  Skeedaddle! And don't say I never gave you anything! ;)

• I have no degree
• I am the embodiment of stress
• I feel like everybody hates me
• I doubt my mothering skills every second of the day
• I’m wondering why I ever agreed to be married to anybody (and he’s a fine husband, so that leaves me feeling endlessly guilty because I know some other low-maintenance woman would be lucky to have him, only he doesn’t want some other low-maintenance woman, he wants me, which means I’ve effectively brainwashed a totally innocent man into tying his life to mine.)
• I don’t own a home
• I’m not cool anymore
• Maybe I never was?
• I cry all the time – for no good reason – without provocation
• No matter what I tell anybody else, I do not really believe I’ll ever finish my law degree – because seriously?  No Crosley ever finished High School, let alone got a freaking Juris Doctor so who the hell am I kidding here?  That kind of thing does NOT happen to Crosleys.
• But I still try because I cannot accept defeat. 
• And yet I still feel defeated every day.

Will anything ever be enough?

Blah.

(from a recent twitter convo in which I wax not-so-poetically to my twitter friends about my lost ability to jump on any adorable 22 yr old I see on the street.  And no, I did not think MrJohnCC would be on Twitter that day, cause he never is.)

FeministBreeder: Do u ever see a hot 22 yr old and think to yourself "when did I get too old to fuck hot 22 yr olds?" Major bummer.

MrJohnCC: yet to see a 22 year old hotter than @FeministBreeder."

Feminist Breeder: @MrJohnCC - I'm SURE you see 22 yr old's hotter than me... they just ain't had yer babies.

MrJohnCC: that's why there aren't 22 yo's hotter than @feministbreeder. I know, I'm twisted.

................... whatta man.

It’s been happening since the beginning of time.  Women stand in the way of their own progress.  When some women fought for the right to vote, other women opposed women suffrage – even going so far as releasing pamphlets like this one stating all the reasons why women should not have the right to vote.  Yeah…. WOMEN did that.

When some women fought for the right to hold a job without being subjected to sexual harassment and sexual violence, other women told those ladies to sit down and shut up, because they had jobs and they should count themselves lucky.  

And while some women fight for the right to safe, legal access to family planning services, other women fight to criminalize any woman who needs or wants these services.   

But today, there is a newly realized (but not newly practiced) form of social humiliation and injustice for women: Birth Rape.  And like with everything else, some women want to make these women victims all over again by denying that such thing exists.  

Birth rape is a term that many women apply to the treatment they may have suffered under the care of a maternity provider who forced, coerced, and/or threatened their way into a woman’s genitals without her expressed permission.  Make no mistake – this is a criminal act.  A woman whose provider performs procedures on her against her will is in violation of the law and the AMA and ACOG Codes of Ethics.  It is grounds for criminal assault charges, malpractice filings and loss of license.  Even in cases where a women may not suffer any long-term physical damage from the act, these incidents can cause extreme physical and emotional trauma on a woman.  These events can cause a woman to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or suffer from long term anxiety, depression, and fear.  These events should not be tolerated by a civilized society.  

But they are.  Why?  Because some women refuse to acknowledge the suffering.  Instead, they blame the mother for her feelings.  They tell her “at least you had a healthy baby, who cares what happened in the process?”  They so eloquently tell her to “shut the fuck up” when she talks about her genitals being forcibly touched, entered, or even cut open.  They tell her that she is not allowed to call what happened to her “rape” – and that her attacker “had the best of intentions” so they couldn’t possibly be to blame.  They marginalize her – the way women have always done to other women when they don’t understand, empathize, or care what has been done to them.  It is too difficult to see the truth, so they choose not to.  

But don't get me wrong - A woman does not have to experience any negative feelings from a cesarean, or any other type of birth for that matter.  Furthermore, a mother does not have to experience any type of forced non-consensual treatment to feel a great sense of loss or depression over an unhappy birth experience.  A mother is entitled to feel anything she needs to about the birth she had.  It is HER birth.  HER feelings.  HER right.   

But so many women will not allow a mother to have negative feelings about her own birth experience.  And of course, this upsets me a great deal.  Unrecognized and untreated feelings of loss, depression, and/or violation can send a mother spiraling deeper into an emotional chokehold.  Her very real, and very justifiable feelings are invalidated by some uneducated and ignorant voices.  She may feel isolated, misunderstood, and shamed.  Some women never have children again because they cannot bear to revisit the scene of the attack (i.e. a hospital.)  Some women choose to give birth without the supervision of any care provider whatsoever because they cannot trust anyone to keep them safe.  Some rise up and empower themselves to achieve a birth experience that helps heal their wounds.  And some women try again, only be set up to fail by a system that does not respect their need for bodily integrity or autonomy.  

No woman should have to feel violated during her birth.  And I will not rest until this very real epidemic has the recognition that every other act of sexual misconduct has.  If the suffragists or the Lois Jensens of the world agreed to “Shut the fuck up” because some ignorant women didn’t want to rock the boat, imagine where we’d be today.     

Whether you are a doctor who thinks they have the right to violate women’s bodies against their will, or you are another woman who believes that doctors should have the right to do whatever they want to other women, I only have to say this:  NO MEANS NO – regardless of the medical degree.    

______________________________

If you are a mother who has suffered some form of birth trauma, or unresolved feelings about a negative birth experience, please know that you are not alone. Help is out there.  Here are a few resources to help you begin healing:  

Solace for Mothers – Healing after Traumatic Childbirth

International Cesarean Awareness Network – Cesarean Recovery and VBAC Support

Citizens for Midwifery – Article on filing a formal complaint against a provider

BirthCut – “The Ax Forgets, the Tree Remembers”

The Unnecesarean – A Resource for the Latest in Maternity News, Studies, and Information

So I told the Hyphenated Husband it would be cheaper to buy a sewing machine and some fabric and let me make my own.  It was a LOT of work and I really had no idea what I was doing.  I had to call my aunt and ask her how to thread the bobbin, then I read the directions that came with the sewing machine to figure out the rest.  But to this very day one of the first things people say when they come into my home is how cool my curtains are.  I get compliments on them all the time.  They are pretty cool... even if they are probably sewn all wrong.  A trained seamstress would probably laugh at my execution, but to the untrained eye they look just fine.

So since then I've taken on a little sewing project here and there when I get a wild hair up in the nether places.  This year I decided to make the kids' Halloween costumes, so I went looking for some online tutorials on how to make the pants I needed for Julesy's monster costume.  I found this AWESOME page from Rookie Moms that shows how to make baby pants from an old t-shirt!  I tried that a few nights ago and Hyphenated Husband was so impressed with my pant-making skills, he said I should make some other outfits for the kids too.  I decided to start out trying pajamas.  I figured it would be more forgiving, and if I screwed them up royally then nobody would ever see them outside the house.  So I went a-shoppin' at JoAnn Fabrics today and picked out some super cute prints.

What you're seeing here is my first ever attempt at making a complete pajama set.  I learned how to sew the shirt from a YouTube video tonight.  Overall I'm pretty pleased with myself.  I LOVE the fabric and applique I used, but the shirt came out looking very feminine (maybe it's the trim, or the cut, or both... I dunno, but I hope I can fix that next time.)  You can click on the photo to blow it up and see the detail.  The pants are a Rock N Roll guitar/radio print, and I put a "Rock N Roll" applique on the shirt.  I loved the concept, I just wish that damn shirt hadn't come out looking so girly.  That would be fine if I had a girl (or if I have a girl in the future) but it looks funny on Julesy since the kid is built like a teeny football player.

If you have any sewing tips, or links to favorite sites, please leave them in the comments.  I'm not going to get all serious about it, but my little craft projects are a nice stress reliever when I have time to do them, and I'd like to make something usable every time.

As the #NestleFamily scandal unfolded, you saw twitterers from all over the country weighing in on the debate.  Some made it very clear that the problem we have with Nestle is their unethical business practices, just one being their blatant violation of the World Health Organization's marketing codes for infant formula.  In case you're wondering why that's a big deal, understand  that an estimated 1.3 million children die each year from not being breastfed, especially in developing worlds (but not only in developing worlds - many right here in this country.)  A few years back, it was discovered that a Unicef effort to encourage formula feeding in Botswana (as a misguided  and fatally flawed attempt to limit the transmission of HIV from mother to baby) resulted in children dying in 20 times the usual numbers.  Horrifying results.  But even though most of the NestleFamily twitter debaters tried hard to keep this issue from turning into a breast vs. formula debate, others Twitter Debaters insisted that Nestle's WHO Code violation was a non-issue because "my kid was formula fed and he/she is fine."

I have a huge problem with this sort of statement.  To say any formula fed child is "fine" is to argue that formula is "fine", ergo "the same as breastmilk" - and that is an outright falsehood.  People making these statements think that because their formula fed child isn't limping around the schoolyard, slurring their ABC's, then this is evidence that formula is a perfect substitute for breastmilk.  You'll find people like BackPacking Dad on Twitter making jokes like "Formula causes scurvy, leukemia, and libertarianism. Breast-feeding gives babies x-ray vision."  Very thoughtful and helpful, dude.  That was funny how he used sarcasm to undermine the real science and evidence we have on the effects of formula feeding.  Wow, what a totally smart argument.  (See, I can be sarcastic too.) ;)

So why were we invited then?  As I understand it, pharmaceutical companies are intensely regulated about what they can say to consumers, whereas the people who tend to argue against vaccinations are hardly regulated at all.  Because of this, GSK wanted to bring in a few consumers (who happen to have a voice) to share the way GSK feels about the vaccination debate (in the most benign, can't-get-sued way.).  That's my assessment of the situation.  Their lawyers had their lips locked pretty tight, too. They would not allow them to mention the name of any product they make (so we had to deduce) and we were not allowed to take any pictures on the property (fair enough.)

They hosted us for a little over 4 hours, the first 2 hours being a presentation about the benefits of vaccinations.  In this presentation, we were given information about how vaccinations are developed, manufactured, tested, and finally released to the public.  We were also shown some graphic images of the effects of various diseases, and given statistics about the rates at which these diseases had been eradicated since the introduction of the vaccination.  For example: in what they call the "Pre-Vaccination Era" there were an estimated 16,316 cases of Polio annually*.  Since the introduction of vaccinations, 0 cases.  I think we can all agree that's a huge step forward for humanity, and given those kind of statistics it's not hard to see why the employees of GSK are so proud of the vaccinations they develop and distribute. 

But having said that, I couldn't let those statistics go without asking some tough questions.  I asked them if they had any data on hand to show the number of cases of Autism in the Pre-Vaccination Era vs. Today.  They did not.  I also asked them what they could tell me about Thimerosal and why it was still being used in some vaccinations given what some science suggests about it.  They said that the manufacturers have removed Thimerosal from most vaccinations, but not because they believed any of the science that suggests it's harmful.  They say they removed it because of the public concern, and they'd rather not have people avoiding their vaccinations just because they think there's something harmful in them.  I don't necessarily believe that, but it sounds like a fair enough answer. I also wanted to know what they thought of the health care professionals who are publicly condemning the new H1N1 shot, but GSK claimed no knowledge of such incidents. To be fair, I do think they were bound by legalities that prevented them from discussing the issue with me further. 

The second 2 hours of the visit was the tour of the facility itself.  If you've ever watch that show "How It's Made" you'd think was pretty cool.  To enter the packaging room, we had to dress head to toe in clean room clothes (<---we looked something like that) and it was quite amusing. This was the part where we were really bummed that we couldn't take pictures of ourselves dressed in this garb.  After watching the dozens of steps these little vials go through before they can be shipped, I can honestly say that GSK takes quality control with the utmost seriousness.  They said over and over, public safety is their highest concern.  I was actually very refreshing to see a team of people (scientists/pediatricians/professionals) taking such pride in their product, and showing such great concerned about the people who will ultimately be receiving these drugs.

That was the gist of those 4 hours, so let's talk now about how I feel about the vaccination debate itself.

I rarely, if ever, bring up the topic of vaccinations on my blog.  For starters, I don't have much fiery passion about the them, and secondly, I'm just not as educated about debate as I am other debates.  I can point you toward absolute science that proves unnecessary cesareans are dangerous, and that breastfeeding is the best way to feed baby.  I don't think there's much to argue about there (although the uneducated masses sure find ways to). 

But when it comes to vaccinations, there is a lot of science, and a lot of questions, and a lot of smart people cannot agree at all on which side to listen to.  So many health professionals disagree with which vaccinations are truly necessary, and which may have adverse effects on a certain population.  I can see both sides of the issue.  I understand why we should vaccinate, and I understand why some people refuse to.  Given that there is some room for debate in this area, I don't feel comfortable making a judgment call on it.  I do what I do and hope for the best.

I, personally, do believe that vaccinations have saved many lives and have completely eradicated some horrifying illnesses.  I think even the most hardcore anti-vax'er would agree with that.  And yes, it does scare me when I see an epidemic of people not vaccinating because I do think it is a public health issue.  Some other family's decision can have a direct impact on my family, and that's concerning, to say the least.  I will unabashedly say that I was quite upset 2 years ago when I was freshly pregnant with my second son, and there was a chicken pox outbreak at my first son's daycare.  Jonas had been vaccinated so I wasn't worried about him coming down with it, but I WAS worried about him carrying it home.  I never had chicken pox, and if I was infected that could have proved lethal for my unborn child.  I was a hysterical mess trying to figure out what I could do to keep from catching it and keep my fetus safe.  As it turned out, one of those millions of tests the doctor runs on you when you first show up pregnant is to test to see if you have immunity to the Varicella virus (because it is such a huge problem for pregnant women), and luckily the test showed I was safe.  I must have been exposed at some point in my life without knowing and developed an immunity.  My family tells the story of how I had chicken pox in my throat (but nowhere else) when I was a baby, but I never really believed it. However, the fact that I even had to worry about this potentially hurting my child made me very angry.  People think of Chicken pox as being such a harmless little external rash, but it's not so harmless if it severely cripples or kills an unborn child.

Having said all of that, I do not think that the lives saved are a free pass for pharmaceutical companies to do whatever they want.  When I spoke with a friend about this (who has an Autistic son and therefore no longer vaccinates her children) she brought up a very good point.  Pediatric health experts advise us to give only breastmilk and no other substance to a child less than 6 months of age.  Furthermore, when we do introduce the pees and carrots, we are instructed to introduce one at a time for fear that there could be some life-threatening allergic reaction, and we need to know exactly which one caused it.  Yet at the same time, some of the same experts advise pumping dozens of vaccinations (consisting of formaldehyde, egg protien, Thimerosal, monkey kidney tissue, and a myriad of other ingredients) into babies just an hour/a week/a month old?  That seems counter-intuitive to me.  But I'm no microbiologist.  Most of us aren't.  Of course, that's never prevented me from looking at evidence based information and making my own decision about something.  I just wish the experts could get on the same page so we don't all have to do their job for them.

From what I can gather about the debate, it's not that anti-vax community loves Polio and want their children to have it.  I'm pretty sure they realize what a devastating illness that is.  I think that the main issue anti-vax'ers (or even just skeptical vax'ers) have is with the number of vaccinations, the timing of them, and the ingredients of them.  If we can protect ourselves from plagues SAFELY - without causing autism, and without any adverse side effects - then we all win.... right? 

I dunno, you tell me.

I'm going to write two separate posts about my trip to Philadelphia to visit the GlaxoSmithKline vaccination production facility.  The first post will be about my personal experience with meeting other bloggers for the first time, and the second post will go into greater detail about what I learned at GSK.

I have never met any other blogger, twitterer, or cyber friend in real life before.  For the most part, the idea makes me a bit uncomfortable.  I generally provide full disclosure here, and also write some very opinionated, polarizing statements that I know other people fucking hate me for.  Online, I can simply hit "delete" or "unfollow" if I don't like the 'tude I'm getting from somebody.  In person, I'm forced to be my most diplomatic self.  We (me, my husband, my friends) call it "The Gina Show."  It's not that it's a fake persona, it's just me on my best behavior.  I think we all do this.  When you're a fucking asshole like I (sometimes) am, that can be soooo exhausting.  I also tend to take things pretty personally, and where others can fight with someone one minute and be shaking their hand the next, I don't operate like that.  Yeah, yeah.  I know.  I'm an immature little snot.  Tell me something I don't know.

I certainly had my diplomacy work cut out for me on this trip because I wasn't meeting any bloggers who share my interests, or rant irately about cesareans and breastfeeding the way I do.  I wasn't even meeting anyone whose blog I'd ever read (aside from Kristen, who was present for the tour only, but not at the hotel, so we hardly saw her.)  If I were meeting Melodie from Breastfeeding Moms Unite, or Amber from Strocel.com, or my Cyber BFF from Unnecessarean (or a bunch of others) I'm sure we would have gushed about all the same topics and been brushing each other's hair by the end of the day.  That's not to say we all have the same exact opinions on things, but we are certainly very, very passionate about some of the same things, and that provides a lot of common ground to stand on.  Also, by sheer virtue of having read each other's blogs on many occasions, we all (I think) feel a certain warmth and respect for each other that would facilitate conversation, empathy, support, and instant bonding in real life.  Well, I could be totally projecting my feelings onto those three particular bloggers, but I would be very surprised if they'd disagree with me on that sentiment.

But this was very different.  I had never read any of these other bloggers, and they run in a very different "scene" than I do.  Here's the list of women I met:

Steph at CreatureBug

Cecily at Uppercase Woman (thanks to her for the lovely picture of us all in the GSK parking lot)

Kristen from Motherhood Uncensored (who is 8 feet tall and 10 times hotter in person. Rowr.)

Devra and Aviva from Parentopia

Sarah from Sarah and the Goon Squad

Lori from Avacado8 (who didn't come on the tour, only to dinner, she lives in Philly.)

I was nervous enough about the whole trip, but I was trying to put me crazy-ass social anxiety aside and try to make the best of it.  I was off to a great start too.  As soon as I landed I got a text from Steph at Creature Bug asking where people were meeting.  We agreed to meet at the shuttle and travel to the hotel together.  She was quite friendly, I think we hit it off right away and we had a good 90 minutes of getting to know each other before we got to the hotel.  She had also never been to an event like this, so I didn't feel like I was the only person who didn't know anybody.  I was starting to feel a little more relaxed.  As soon as we checked in, we had to meet the other women for dinner right away.  All the other women we met knew each other very well, and had either been friends for years and years, or were at least very regular readers of each other's blogs and had met at previous blogging events.  They were also seasoned "monetizers" (a word I learned on the trip) meaning that this whole blogging thing was paying some bills for them.  That alone made me start to feel a little out of my league.

We sat down to dinner and before most people had their menus open Devra from Parentopia and I started talking about the GSK tour.  She made a comment about Big Pharma being "evil" (which, in retrospect, I think may have been sarcasm) but also mentioned that they can sometimes save some lives as well.  So I said that I felt the same way about cesareans; I love them when they're necessary and don't so much love them when they aren't.  Oh Gina.  Why don't you just keep your fucking pie-hole shut. (<-rhetorical question.)  So from across the table, Lori says "What was that?" and I am forced to repeat myself, knowing what was coming next.  She immediately stops the table and says "Okay, raise your hand if you have had a cesarean" and everyone except one person at the table raises their hand. 

(hint: If everyone at your table has had a cesarean, and you're NOT at an ICAN meeting, your cesarean-awareness-self is about to be hella uncomfortable.) 

And then of course the table broke into the "but-mine-was-really-necessary" stories and I felt like the Town A-Hole again.  This is where I shut the fuck up.  This is where I know I am not among my audience, and the kind of thing I write about (live, eat, breath, sleep, study, will-practice-law-someday-soon-for) is not going to be welcome conversation here.  Man, it's gonna be a looooooong night.

So I spent the next 15 minutes or so coming down from my social anxiety attack, and found a way to work myself back into the conversation (Gina, don't say shit about crunchy living.)  We ended up talking, joking, and discussing the world until nearly 11 pm, and it was a pretty good time.  I managed to blame my cesarean and formula feeding for my distance with my first son, a non-popular opinion again, but there was no spectacle made of it.

The next day we all boarded into a van and made the 2 hour trip up to Marietta PA for the GSK tour.  We had a lot of time to talk and joke about everything under the sun, and I was feeling more and more comfortable.  Perhaps I fit in after all.  I mean, these are moms, I'm a mom, we all have at least that in common, right? 

Well, don't worry, I put myself right back outside the circle when the GSK hosts asked us if we had any questions.  I asked about whether they had tested the vaccinations in groups, and if so, where could I find the results of that testing.  I asked about Thimerosal, why it was included in the Influenza and H1N1 vaccines.  I asked if they were aware of the study recently published that showed some devastating effects of Thimerosal, and I asked if they had been made aware of the recent findings by the Canadian Government that the flu shot was making people more susceptible to acquiring H1N1.  Of course GSK wasn't super jazzed about those questions, and I believe nobody else seemed to share my concern on those points.  (Oh Gina, you're such a trouble-maker.)  That line of questioning was talked about on the long 3 hour van ride back to Philly, and I was made even more aware that I was the only person in the vehicle who was still quite skeptical.  I was also the only person who felt that, if there was a real risk for autism, that should be enough to change the way vaccinations are made and/or administered.  The general consensus that I felt was that vaccinations save lives and there was no need to question the science.  Of course, being the advocate and analytic mind that I am, I say question everything.

Now, we all know I vaccinate my kids.  They've never missed one.  I do believe they have saved millions of lives and that vaccinations are a matter of public health.  But, I am also a die-hard believer in informed consent, and am sensitive to the reasons why some people don't vaccinate.  I would never suggest to one of my very best friends that it was okay her kid got autism as long as a bunch of other kids' lives were saved.  I think one case of vaccine-induced autism is too many.  I have a deep empathy for those who are raising special needs children, and I want to keep examining the science behind this until we know why this is happening to children, and we have stopped the epidemic.  So I spent a lot of time feeling like the only dickhead in the car who was beating up on those poor nice GSK folks (they were very nice, and I'll talk more about that in my next post.)

In summary, my first experience with meeting other bloggers was certainly a very interesting one.  I learned that I can participate in hours of conversation with mothers who are nothing like me, and I will not die of a panic-attack-induced stroke in the process.  I learned that until I know if everyone at the table has had a cesarean, maybe I should hold my cards closer to my chest while I test the water on that topic.  Not everyone can (or wants to) rattle off cesarean and infant mortality statistics the way I can.  And finally, I discovered a whole new subculture of this female/mother blogger community that I didn't even know existed, and in doing so, my awareness has been expanded.

So a big thanks to David Wescott for hooking me up with these women.  And stay tuned for the next post where I will put my head on a directly on the chopping block by talking about vaccinations.  As if people didn't have enough reasons to leave me nasty comments already, I'm gonna go and open that can 'o worms.

Duht-Duhnt-Duuuuuuhhhhnt.

________________________________________

(and so you now, GlaxoSmithKline paid every dollar of this trip for me, so thanks again GSK)

Going could not be any more inconvenient or impossible.  But I’m trying to make it possible.  I think it will be hugely educational (how often does one get to visit a major pharmaceutical facility anyway?) and the fact that it’s fully paid for by them means I have no real financial excuse to skip it.

Plus, some of the cool kids will be there. 

They’ve invited a small group of “influential” mom bloggers (don’t ask me how I’m included in that), which means I’ll finally get to meet some of these gals you see banging around the interwebs.  It looks like Pundit Mom is making an appearance, as well as Kristen Chase.  Kristen is the person that inspired me to take The Feminist Breeder to the streets after I discovered her through a Podcast wayyyyy back in 2007.  I’m pretty sure she hates me ever since I called her white (oh, wait until she sees how white I am! The husband says I glow in the dark!) but maybe she’ll forgive me if I bring her a pair of high-heeled Crocs.  Isn't the gift of Crocs the universal way of saying "Sorry I was being a cunt that day"?

They haven’t sent me the plane tickets yet so we’ll see if this thing really pans out.  I’ll be skeptical until I’m actually sitting on the runway.  It almost feels like all the head cheerleaders devised a plan to invite me to the prom, only to have me show up at an empty warehouse while they lay waiting in the bushes, filming the whole thing as a YouTube prank.

Oh, there goes my self-loathing narcissism again.  I doubt the head cheerleaders even care enough about me to play a prank.

Anyhoo, if there really is a vaccination facility in Pennsylvania, and I'm really on the guest list, then I’ll write all about the experience – don’t you worry.

In her post (and I’m paraphrasing here) this blogger expressed her annoyance with people who had always asked what she wanted to “be” when she grew up.  She claimed she had always wanted to be a mother.  End of story.  Simply put, she never wanted a career, unless that career was being a Mom.  And she felt that anyone who thought that she needed a life plan outside of motherhood was being critical and disrespectful.  After all, feminism is about the choice to be a mother or not, right?

I certainly think it’s just fine if a family agrees that one partner should stay home with the children.  Sounds totally fair to me.  Marriage is a partnership, and families need to figure out what works best for them.

But what I find problematic about her position is this: How can you decide you’re going to be a mother when you grow up – and not a wage earner – before you find the person who’s going to give you babies and support you?  Do you know of a single man who got to decide this for himself as a child?  With women, it’s expected that they should have this choice. With men, it’s expected that they won’t.

Picture this:  Teacher asks a little boy what he wants to be when he grows up.

Little boy says:  "A Stay at Home Dad."

Teacher says:  "Okay, you want to be a husband and a father – great, admirable even – but what do you want to do, like, for money?"

Little boy says:  "Nothing.  I only want to be a house-husband."

Teacher: "Okay son, but you really need a backup plan."

Why does he need a backup plan?  Well, not to be insensitive, but his plans in life rely on a whole lot of things that are entirely out of his control lining up perfectly for him.  What if he doesn’t find a wife?  What if they can’t have children?  What if the person he falls deeply in love with either cannot support him, or she had decided at age 9 that she wanted to be the one to stay home?  Who gets to stay home?  Or what if his perfect wife loses her ability to work?   What then?   And let’s say all these things work out perfectly for the little boy.  What does he do in the meantime?  You know, that time between age 18 and whenever you meet your spouse?  Surely he needs to make some cash while he’s waiting for Mrs. Right (and their offspring) to come along?  Right?

But come on.  Boys don’t get this choice.  Okay, in some progressive relationships they do (like how mine started out) but this is not a societal norm.  The fact is, when kids come along, and one person can afford to stay home, it’s usually assumed by everyone on the block that it will be the mom.  People say “It’s her choice – that’s what feminism is all about.”  But where was Daddy’s choice in the matter?  Nobody ever mentions that Daddy should have gotten the option as well.

But why?  Some would argue that mom is better at it, and I would say that is just not true in our house.  My husband is just as good of a parent as I am.  In some ways, he’s better.  He’s more patient, and less jumpy.   He doesn’t handle the minutiae the way my Type-A, over-achieving, aggressive personality does, but he’s also a lot more temperate and rational than I am.  Who says the kids would be worse off with him (or any dad) at home?

I find the whole argument that “feminism is about choice” problematic in and of itself.  That’s all I’m saying.  I can’t quite figure out the solution to what I see as an unbalance, I just want to acknowledge that it’s there, and it’s strange to me.

These two posts aren’t meant to be any sort of hard line political statement on the issue (though I’m quite certain some people will read something into them and send me hate mail anyway.)  They are merely meant to be a written catharsis about my guilt over quitting my job and subsequently putting all of the burden on my husband to pay the bills.  Maybe if he made more money, and my joblessness was barely noticeable to our finances, I might not feel so bad.  But when everyone talks about how feminism gave me the right to stay home with my kids, the equalist part of me just wants to know what sort of movement will give Dads the right to do the same thing? 

I started to write a long list of things I think our society could do to “even” out the parenting roles, but I’m more interested in what you all have to say about this.  Tell me – can you imagine a world where it was okay, expected even, for a boy to grow up with only the dream of becoming a Stay-at-Home-Dad?  What do you make of that world?

(I don’t mean to exclude the alternative families here; I’m saying Mom and Dad as opposed to Mom and Mom or Dad and Dad because I want to specifically address the dynamic created by millions of years of stereotypical gender roles in a male/female parenting relationship – roles which the alternative families I know have managed to reinvent for themselves.)

Like this mom, I have felt some guilt around my recent decision to leave the corporate rat race for the time being to focus on my law degree, my kids, and my work-at-home business.  Even though my husband is 1,000,000% supportive of this decision, and felt that it was the very best thing for our family, I cannot help but feel like he’s getting cheated.

Why does he have to go to work when I don’t?  Yes, I know that being home with the kids is work, but it’s not like I do all the parenting and he does all the working outside the home.  We BOTH parent.  And up until a week ago, we BOTH went to the office too.  So everything was equal a week ago.  Now, my husband has to parent AND go to work outside the home.  Okay, you're going to say "But TFB, you also go to school and run your cake business!" and to this I would respond "So does he."  He takes classes full time too, AND holds a second part-time job reffing for Chicago Sport and Social (which is where he is right now), AND he helps me with the cake business.  So how is this fair?

For Part One of this story I have to give a little personal background on my complicated feelings about this.  I can tell you that it’s only somewhat “fair” for my husband to work right now and for me to be home because of our particular circumstances.  This doesn't wipe the slate clean, but it helps to understand how we ended up in our situation before I work out my feelings about the politics of it all.

When I first had my oldest son, I went straight back to work 5 weeks after my cesarean while my husband was supposed to be staying with our baby during the day, finishing his last year of school, and only working part time waiting tables at night.  We were both in school when I got pregnant, but I was still in my first year, and husband was almost done with his degree.  We were both in school in our mid/late twenties.  Neither one of us managed to get school done at the "normal" age - each of us for very different reasons.  I couldn't go to school at 18 like everyone else because I was too poor; he wouldn't finish school because too busy giving his parents gray hair.  So when we got married and decided to keep that pregnancy, the deal was that he finishes his degree and gets a job, at which point I could leave my job to go back to school full time and keep going until I got my law degree.  That was the deal.

Well, he kinda jacked all that up by not bothering to go to class.  Instead, he laid in bed sleeping while the babysitter (who was only supposed to be there while Husband was in class) took care of the baby instead.  Awesome.  Fast forward a few months, husband is flunking out of his last year of school, and all our “plans” are screwed.  I scream and yell that he owes it to me to finish school because I was going to a job I hated instead of finishing my own degree. Instead, he drops out of college the next day.  Oh, things were ugly in this house for awhile.  I wanted to kill him. Then divorce him. Then kill him again. 

It’s not that my husband is lazy.  He's actually one of the hardest working people I know.  He’s not one of those douches who sits in front of the computer and plays World of Warcraft all day.  He just had his head shoved so far up his Only-Child ass that it took him a minute to realize he was a grown, married man with a child, and this "doing-whatever-I-want" bullshit was not going to fly anymore. He had been deeply unfair to me, and he realized that, but not before it altered our relationship for (what may be) the rest of our lives.

Instead of divorcing him, I demanded that he get a full time day job, and that he not even think about going back to school until I’ve passed the bar.  He obliged.

And in the middle of all this, we were trying to sell our useless condo.  That wasn't working thanks to an awful economy.  That added an incredible financial stress that put us in a far worse situation than it had to be.

I tried and tried to think of ways for me to leave my job and go back to school, but with the husband having no degree and no experience doing anything but waiting tables, I HAD to keep working.  I made all the money.  I managed to get him a job in my office, but I was still the one with the better salary.  Another year later I decided the only way I was going to be able to go to school was if I worked full time and went to school full time at night.  So I did that for two years.  In that time I also had another baby, and then started a business out of my house to get even more money coming in.  I did this all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA  so I could keep my scholarship money flowing, and help guarantee my acceptance into a decent law program.

Two and a half years after the husband quit school, and two and a half years of me swearing that I’d better not even catch him thinking about college or I’d cut his balls off with a dull spoon, I did the unthinkable.  I let him start taking classes again.  In that 2.5 years, he grew up a lot.  He also found something that he had a passion for – something he’d actually go to class for and enjoy:  Teaching.  I let him start with one online class at a time.  He took two classes in the spring and got A’s in both.  He did well enough for me to trust him again, so now he’s back in school full time (while still working full-time at the office.)  If he keeps up this pace, he’ll have his teaching certificate in just 2 short years – right around the time I’ll be starting law school.

After running myself into the ground for two years, and only after we managed to shift ourselves into a not-so-desperate (yet still very rocky) financial situation, we decided it was time for my corporate job to go.  It was my turn to do what the husband got to do 3 years ago (difference being, I ain’t flunkin’ out.)  But this is where it gets complicated for me.

...For Part Two of this saga, I will talk about parenting roles, expectations, and the impact of it all on the feminist plight.

Mothers are nocturnal.

Mothers can sense when their loved ones are in danger, even if they're not in the same room.

Mothers can move faster than the speed of sound to snatch a falling child out of mid-air just seconds before they hit the ground.

Just like Vampires.

And today, I decided there's a new trait.  After trying, and failing miserably, to refresh my appearance, I've decided it's not even possible.  In the same way that vampires cannot change their hair, neither can I.

I went in to the stylist today and asked for my punk rock hair back.  I used to be cute.  Before people came out of my vagina, I looked like a rocker.  I looked on the outside what I felt like on the inside.  You could tell by being in the same room with me what I was about.  You could tell by looking at me that I played in a band and lived an exciting life.

Apparently I will have the "Mom Bob" for the rest of my natural life now.  It's inevitable.  People will never again look at me and think "oh, I bet she plays guitar" or "oh look, it's that girl who played in those cool bands!"  Nope.  They will look at me and think "I wonder how many kids she has" or "yeah, she clearly never did anything even remotely cool in her entire life."

And with that, I will leave you with this video. It is hilariously, painfully true.  There is no avoiding it. Time to mix up some oxycotin and Jack Daniels, then drink away the pain of assimilation.  I'm a mom, and there ain't nuthin' cool about it.

Today, I woke up a mom, a student, a blogger, a cake business owner, and an activist.  I did all of those things today, and it felt great.  I was more patient with my kids than I normally am.  I felt more invested in my other work.  And I finally felt like I had the time and mental energy to focus on the things that are really important to me.  In the words of the formidable Ice Cube: “Today was a Good Day.”

Plus, my kids slept in until 7:30, woke up in a good mood, and cooperated with me all day.  Julesy did take frightening spill just before lunch time that split his lip wide open and soaked his (and my) clothes with blood.  ACK!  But once he calmed down, it/he was fine, and he ate lunch like it hadn’t even happened.

Then both the kids took a nice, long nap, and so did I.  Pure Heaven.

OH! And the greatest piece of news for the day was that one of my ICAN moms had her baby by VBAC this morning.  I was intensely invested in helping her get her VBAC, and have been laying awake at night worrying about her situation.  Her case was especially nail-biting because her OB actually dropped her at 41 wks pregnant last week (hello unethical!) because she refused to have another cesarean that she felt was not medically indicated.  Her doc told her she was killing her baby, etc., etc.  And today, she proved that doctor wrong by birthing her little girl vaginally without incident. Love it.

Now I will retire to rest up for my big Philosophy midterm tomorrow evening.  I just have to say I'm feeling really good about life right now though.  Yay life... You rule.

This is strange. I'm not running out of here kicking my heels like I thought I would be.  Instead, I'm digging my heals in and hoping this is one of the slower days of my life.  It will be too unsettling to wake up tomorrow morning and have no workplace to report to.

Everyone wants me to be happy. This is what I wanted.  But it's all too weird for me to be "happy" just yet.

I keep telling myself that I'm worried about the money, but with my surprise 401k liquidation, and the many thousands I just received in new financial aid, truthfully we could float for 6 full months without panicking.  And I'll only get more next semester, and I do have cake money coming in -- so we're really not that bad off.  Ultimately I don't think the lack of money is what's really freaking me out.

I think I may have to face the fact that perhaps I like coming to work.  Maybe I even like coming here.  I don't like it enough to change my mind and undo all of this, but I do want to recognize that this isn't going to be the easiest transition for me.  This place - this job - is part of my identity.

I've worked in an office for 13 years. And now, all the sudden, I won't be anymore.  At least not for awhile.  And don't ask me "So, what will you do with yourself?" because there is PLENTY to do (like taking care of kids, running my cake business, and keeping up my 4.0 GPA with an 18-hr class load.)

I won't be bored, that's for sure.  I'm just not totally mentally prepared for my life to change this drastically.  But I guess I better get prepared, because it's already Noon, and the second half of the day will probably go by quicker than the first.

And in a very, very strange twist of events, my boss from an old company wandered into the office today.  I haven't seen him in 5 years.  I say "what in the world are YOU doing here?" - and he replies that he's the new manager.  I would have been working directly with him again.  I always liked him too.  What a weird-o coincidence.

Now I'm off to my "farewell" lunch with my soon-to-be-Ex boss.

*deep breath*

But, I get her point.  She wants people to be happy.  And it's not her fault. She just happened to post that at a time where I was especially miserable with my circumstances, and wasn't gonna listen to anybody tell me I needed to "own" any part of it. I was in no mood.  I don’t agree that people need to shut the fuck up when they aren’t not happy, and I don’t believe that being happy is as simple as some middle class whilte folks make it sound.  But hey, I really do want to own my choice – so long as I actually have a choice.  I could bore you all with a philosophical theory on the origin of ownership and how it is not possible to own that which you have not purposely either cultivated or bartered for, but c’mon, you guys don’t come here for a dissertation on Locke, so let’s just do this the navel-gazing TFB way instead...

I think people are essentially responsible for themselves.  Sure I do.  I was raised in a conservative household.  You know, the kind of people that grow up poor as hell, but still vote Republican because they think that other people want to take away all the money they don’t have.  Yeah, those maddening people.  The Joe 6-Pack people.  But for all their mislead political alignment, I am bred with a “pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps” mentality, and that is essentially a pretty positive, Protestant, hard-working approach to life.  Thus, I work my tail off, and I take responsibility for the things I am responsible for.

But add marriage, kids, and global economic crises to the picture, and I think the waters become a bit muddied.  People are not islands, and sometimes the choices of others contradict what you may have chosen for yourself.  It’s not always as easy as walking away from their choice, especially when you are contractually or genetically bound to these people and responsible for their well-being.

So, for a very long time, I suffered through doing what I had to do instead of what I wanted to do.  I focused on work and fit school in where I could, instead of focusing on school and finishing my law degree.  I ached for leaving my kids, but I slaved over a breastpump all the hours of the days so I could do right by them even when I couldn’t be physically present. 

But now, I get to make a choice.  It is not an easy choice; that is certain.  It’s not like a Coke bottle filled with gold coins fell out of the sky and landed in my bank account so I could just walk out of my job without a single backward glance.  There is a lot of uncertainty, and a lot of second-guessing myself.  But, there came a point in life where my corporate employment was no longer worth the opportunity cost of the other things I was sacrificing in my life.  It’s very hard to come from poverty and not place an intense amount of value on money and stability. However, I am trying to focus on all the good this change will bring, and not feel suffocated by the $1500 deficit we’ll be facing each month: a deficit that I will have to find a way to make up with cake orders and school loans (and the money I’m pulling out of my 401k, and the loans we’ve already taken from the mother-in-law to help us get out of that condo debt, etc. etc.)
 
Even though we will not be comfortable financially, and I have no idea whether I’m cut out for being a work-at-home-mother , this is still easier than what I was doing.  This choice I made.  This choice I labored over and worked for.  This choice wasn’t made by someone else without my permission.  This one is mine.  And I will be happy to own it.

Look out world... here I come.

(Front page of the Saturday edition of the Chicago Sun Times)

But watch the video on the story - it will make any lactivist's heart swell up with pride over what Lauren & the Lactivists (that should be a band name) were able to accomplish.  Take one breastfeeding bill, add one jerk who doesn't know their place, then multiply it times all the social media outlets who will make a rally cry go viral, and you have some serious social change.  This is why I keep trying.  Now let's get this Breastfeeding Promotion Act passed and we can really make some progress!

Bad, right?  Yes. But what makes it worse? When the female reporter on the story, Suzanne Le Mignot,  doesn’t know enough about Illinois law to properly report on the subject.

From the story:

Trost says she always nurses her 7-month-old son discreetly in Lincoln Square. That's why she says she was stunned when a woman recently threatened her by saying:

"'I'm going to call the police, and then I said, 'please call the police,'" Trost said. "She said, 'what you're doing is indecent, there are children here.' And I said, 'I'm just feeding my baby.'"

Nursing a child in public is not against the law in Illinois. Trost says she's telling her story to reinforce that fact.

DEAR Ms. Le Mignot – nursing in public is not just “not against the law in Illinois,” it is, flat out PROTECTED by law.  In fact, Illinois SB 3211 provided one of the country’s strictest breastfeding protection laws in that it includes an actual enforcement provision, allowing a woman to sue any business who tried to deny her this right.

This is like saying “being handicapped is not against the law in Illinois.”  Hello? We have RIGHTS and PROTECTIONS.  That goes far beyond “not against the law.”

Please send your letters of disapproval to CBS 2 News regarding Ms. Le Mignot’s underwhelming reporting capabilities.  I want them to update the story to include the actual laws, and not their poorly researched version.

Here’s the one I wrote:

Dear Susanne,

Regarding this morning's story about the breastfeeding incident in Lincoln Square, I request that you get your facts straight.

Breastfeeding in public is not only "not illegal" in the state of Illinois, but it is PROTECTED BY LAW.  In 2004, SB 3211 established "The Right to Breastfeed" act, which includes tough legislation protecting a woman's right to nurse anywhere she is authorized to be, and includes an enforcement provision allowing her to sue for damages if a business owner tried to stop her from breastfeeding in their establishment.

http://www.illinois.gov/PressReleases/ShowPressRelease.cfm?SubjectID=1&RecNum=3291

Breastfeeding is a hugely important and highly controversial topic, and it is your job as a reporter to dispel the confusion and set forth the facts when reporting on a story like this.

Section 10: Breastfeeding Location: A mother may breastfeed her baby in any location, public or private, where the mother is otherwise authorized to be, irrespective of whether the nipple of the mother's breast is uncovered during or incidental to the breastfeeding;

Section 15. Private right of action. A woman who has been denied the right to breastfeed by the owner or manager of a public or private location, other than a private residence or place of worship, may bring an action to enjoin future denials of the right to breastfeed. If the woman prevails in her suit, she shall be awarded reasonable attorney's fees and reasonable expenses of litigation.

Please update your language to reflect the protections that women are granted, rather than just implying that what they are doing isn't technically "illegal."

A Concerned Illinoisan

Now, somebody tell me how I can get ahold of Lauren Trost because I will nurse in Lincoln Square with her any day of the week.  I swear I know this woman, I just cannot place her.  Maybe we were in a mom's group together at some point.  She looks pretty rock-n-roll, and we're around the same age, so I bet she's probably a friend of a friend.

UPDATE TO THIS STORY:  Well, my friends, letter writing and lactivism works!  Check it out! I smell progress!

Why are some women such traitors to their own gender?  Why (?) do women say things like:

• “I have absolutely no empathy for this woman”
• “Employers are not required to offer special treatment to women who choose to continue breastfeeding”
• “Reproducing doesn't make you queen of the world, no matter what you think”
• “Choose the difficult path to breast feed said offspring, should not introduce a burden upon others”
• “as a single woman without kids I get tired of being treated as if I don't exist”

Those are real quotes.  Real things said by actual women – the commentary on that story.

I hear this type of crap everywhere.  Visit the iVillage “Feminism Today” board, and you’ll see the worst of it.  When Sophie Currer, a 33 yr. old Harvard med student and mother of a 4 month old nursing daughter, requested time to pump during her medical licensing exam, she was originally told “Nope!”  That decision was overturned (thank goodness)  but you should have seen the comments from the so-called “feminists” in the meantime.  Seriously, I'm embarrassed to be one of them some times.  They said she should wait until she’s done breastfeeding to take the test, or said that it wasn’t anybody else’s fault that she got pregnant, so she should deal with the consequences, even if it meant sitting around uncomfortably engorged (and consequently getting Mastitis or an abscess). Or – and this was really the most laughably sexist of all the statements – she should wait to be a doctor until she’s done with this baby business because her breaks weren't FAIR to the MEN.

Yes. Women. Women said those things.  Here is where I sing-song my famous quote “Women are the Problem with Women.” Laa deee daaaahhhh.

So a MAN can take a med-school exam ANY time – even seconds after his child is born, but a WOMAN must wait a year or two to take her test, all because she is tied to her biology and society can’t be bothered to accommodate her condition?  I have a very, very hard time understanding how any person claiming to have a brain could say something so utterly stupid. 

But they don’t just say it.  They believe it.  They believe the patriarchies' version of “equality” and that amounts to nothing more than a truly infected case of Stockholm Syndrome.  I want to beat them over the head with expletives, but I fear the brainwashing is too ingrained and it won’t make a bit of difference.  They have suffered so many thousands of years of painful cognitive dissonance that they have wired themselves to love the patriarchies' hate for them.  It’s the only thing that takes the pain away, I suppose.  It is too hard to come out of the cave, see the light, and realize you’ve only been staring at a shadow of equality instead of the real thing.

When once upon a time women were goddesses of fertility, these new “feminists” tell us it’s our “fault” we had kids – that they shouldn’t have to bear any burden because we chose to procreate.  Oh really? 

Somebody please raise your hand and explain to me who will be paying the taxes that will sustain this country if there are no future generations?  I really want to know.  If you think you’re so smart, explain to me who's going to be wiping your ass at the nursing home, or finding a cure for your Alzheimer’s, or even driving the ambulance when you go into cardiac arrest, if there are no more people being born and taking up these jobs?  Who's going to pay the taxes into the system that gives you EMTs, and police, and transportation, and Medicaid, and Social Security?  Do you think that when you’re 80, the 80 yr old next to you is going to be doing all these things?  Obviously not.  No, it’s probably going to be a 20-something year old; a child born years and years from now - maybe a child born to my children.  So clearly children are not obsolete.  And wouldn’t you rather have healthy, happy children who were taken care of by their mothers/fathers and by society?  Wouldn’t you want the person in charge of curing your cancer to have those few extra IQ points and be in overall good health?   Well, you probably didn’t think that one through too well, did ya?

Okay, so obviously we NEED future generations, I think we can all agree there.  But you don’t want to bear them?  Okay fine, that’s your choice... but if you’re going to put the onus on the rest of us to raise the people that sustain this country – and raise them to be the healthiest they can be - the LEAST you can do is show a little respect to those who’ve taken on this enormous task.  These efforts should be subsidized, not shamed.  I’m not saying we should get a medal or anything, but in a civilized society, those who perform the services you are not willing to perform are entitled to compensation.  This is how a Republic works, don’tchaknow? 

I don’t give a crap if you don’t want kids, or you hate kids, or whatever your deal is.  But don’t you dare say you don’t “owe” me anything for having kids. On the contrary, if my offspring takes care of you when you’re older, or pays the taxes, or pumps your freaking gas, you owe me a whole lot.

Now, please pull your pretty head out of the sand and realize we're all getting screwed here - and not in the good way.

This is a plight I know all too well.  It's not easy providing breastmilk to a baby you don't see 50 hours a week.  But I busted my butt, and made it through that full year of pumping at work without a drop of formula supplementation.  Luckily my employer didn't give me any hassles, and they never questioned a minute I needed to spend in the Mother's Room, but they didn't exactly provide me with all the resources I needed to be successful either.

They could do better, so I helped them do better, and it was a win/win for everyone.

The case that this article makes is that Employers can do more to assist nursing Mothers, and it only helps their bottom line.  Read the full Forbes.com article called "The Business of Breastfeeding."

Yay me!

PS. I'm the second Gina in the article (Gina Crosley-Corcoran), not the Gina from Lanisoh - but weird coincidence!

_____________________________________________________________

UPDATED:

Upon request I have added the document I created for my company. 

Download Mothers Room Info-Breastfeeding (1.36 MB PDF)

Feel free to use these as a guide in creating your own Mother's Room materials.  It is also important to order some fee copies of The Business Case For Breastfeeding to have on hand as well.

Shit is crazy.

Work is nuts.
School is nuts.
Cakes are nuts.
Kids are nuts.
And I have a bad cold this week.

If I make it through this week without maiming someone, it will be by the grace of God-the-Mystical-Sky-Fairy.

This is what it looks like when you cut off a chicken’s head, and its body keeps running around the barnyard.  I’m beyond overwhelmed.  Besides all the stuff I HAVE to do, I really WANT to finish the ICAN of DuPage startup materials so I can get that out of the gate before our September 14th meeting. 

And then there’s this blog.  Oh poor blog, you have been neglected so.  No, of course I don’t have to write, but if I don’t write for a few days, it nags at me – like the feeling of having to go pee, but being too busy to do it.  If you go too long, you’ll end up with a bladder infection.  In my case, it’s a “too-many-words-in-my-head” infection, and the catharsis of this blog is often my only relief.

So, like I said, I started school again last week, and these are certainly the two hardest class I’ve had so far.  One is a political philosophy course with a 101 year old teacher whose rules are the bible and who, I can tell already, will be very hard pressed to give anyone in the class anything higher than a C because that’s how hardcore, old-school philosophy professors operate.

This oughtta be fun.

The second class is an ECON 201 course (Microeconomics) and (let me put this in big, bold letters so you understand I’m very serious) – I SUCK AT MATH.

I know the math teachers of the world are gasping in horror now, but those are the facts.  I’ve gotten through my whole life without ever learning how to multiply a fraction, or plot a grid.  But now, if I want to pass this class, I’m going to have to learn how to do both of those things, and a lot more, in the next 7 short weeks.  I had to buy graph paper for the first time in my life last week.  I found it in the “back to school” section, next to the crayons and glue sticks.  Is this what my life has come to?  Shouldn’t I be buying these things for my own children?  Aren’t I beyond this?

Apparently not.

If I don’t get a break soon, I might lose it.  I really might.  I wrote many, many expletives in an email yesterday to my fucking boss, and only had the good sense to delete them about 3 milliseconds before I hit the Send button.  The Husband took me out to eat last night to calm my nerves, and before we left I overheard him begging the 3 yr old to please be on his best behavior because mommy is not feeling well and she might get all screamy if certain people couldn't act right in the restaurant. Sad.

But tonight I won’t get home from work/class until 11:30 pm, at which time I have to decorate 4 dozen cupcakes in the theme of “Ralph’s World” for an order due tomorrow morning.

And then there's more class. And more cakes due. And these kids won't give me a break.

Have I mentioned that I haven’t slept in a couple of years?

September 15th.  Please, please September 15th, come as fast as you can.

***now where did I stash that few-year old bottle of Zoloft?***

Well, he didn’t look like that at the time.  He was a blastocyte that would eventually become this smiley, beautiful little boy. But sure enough, his life began on that trip to Mexico and the Caribbean.

Two years later, my family of four went on another Mexican vacation and came home with this –

I absolutely love this simple piece.  As soon as I saw it, it made me think of my nursling and my ankle-biting toddler – one constantly cradled at my breast, and the other reaching for me from his place at my feet.  The husband isn’t one to spend money on things like this, but he also fell in love with it as soon as he saw it. He said it looked like me.  And it made him smile.

Now I look off into the future and wonder what my next “souvenir” will look like, or when I’ll bring it home.   What are your favorite/most important souvenirs?

  (find more images at BirthCut.com, Artist: Michelle De Mont)

Until now, less than 10 people are aware such an incident occurred in my life: those people being the attacker, those who filed the paperwork regarding the incident, and later, my husband.

So the story goes: I’m working as a temp for a prominent employment agency who assigns me for some admin assistant duties in the catering department at a large hotel chain.  The position has potential to become permanent, so I work hard and take on various special projects in an effort to prove to the managers that I’m worth keeping around.  I’m friendly with all the catering managers, and eager to make coffee, or send faxes; whatever they need me to do.  I have no education at the time, but I make up for my lack of credentials by picking things up quickly and going the extra mile.  They think I'm whip-smart.  This makes me feel special.

When one of the catering managers begins assigning me more tasks, and praising my work, I think I'm starting to see some success.  When he asks to take me to lunch a week later to discuss my future with the company, I assume this is the lunch where they offer me a permanent position with the hotel.  It does not occur to me that this lunch is anything other than strictly professional:  firstly because he has a fiancé and talks incessantly about his wedding planning, and secondly, I suppose, because I am 20 and incredibly gullible.  I have no reason not to trust him.

At lunch, he talks about several projects he wants to put me on to see what I can handle.  Then he tells me he wants to take me on a tour of the catering facilities so I can get a sense for where I’ll be working.  Once we are back at the hotel, he takes me to the floor with all the special banquet rooms.  When he discovers maintenance men working in the hallway, he says we should take the stair well to get to the next floor and avoid getting in their way.

What comes next makes me feel stupid.  I don’t see it coming, and for that I feel responsible.

 He opens the door to the stairwell, yanks me inside, shoves me down onto the stairs, and climbs on top of me.  There is a tongue in my throat, and hands ripping at my clothes.

For a moment, I am stunned.  I probably don’t even fight back right away because I can’t get my head around what’s happening.  I am 5’6”, 120 lbs.  He is 6’ 4”, 220.  It takes me roughly 30-35 seconds to push him off me.  Maybe less.  I don’t know really.  Time stands still.

I run back to the catering department, and head straight into the vice-president's office where I say I’m not feeling well and ask to go home.  He tells me there’s no more work left for me, so I don’t need to come back anymore unless the agency calls me again. Fine. Great.  I never have to see Him again.

I call my roommate from the lobby for a ride home, take a shower, and crawl into bed for a day or two.  I don’t tell anyone, or plan to tell anyone, for 7 days – that’s when the temp agency calls.

The temp agency tells me they have more work for me at the hotel.  I tell them I don’t want to go back to the hotel, but I’ll take anything else they have.  I can hear in the recruiter’s voice that they don’t appreciate me turning down the job, and this isn’t reflecting on me very well.  The recruiter ends the call, and I am afraid they won’t give me on any more assignments.

Fearing my job, I call the recruiter back and tell them I need to come in the office to explain why I cannot go back to the hotel.  I am sick the whole train ride down to the agency.  When I arrive, I first explain the situation to one head recruiter, who puts me in a conference room with two other recruiters and has me retell the story while they tape record the conversation.  All three of us cry, then sit in silence.

The agency feels terrible for putting me in the situation.  I just want to forget about it as quickly as possible.  Over the next few days, they notify the hotel, lots and lots of paperwork is filled out, and ultimately He is escorted off the hotel property by security guards (so I am told later by a Temp friend who is still working at the hotel.)

Within 14 days, the agency has a permanent position for me with a salary higher than any I have seen up until that time.  They are being especially nice. I want to move on with my life, so I take the position and put the incident out of my mind.  In retrospect, I am sure they are desperate to avoid a lawsuit.

Before this incident occurred, I could never understand why a woman wouldn’t report a rape or an attack.  I would see characters on TV shows or in movies refusing treatment and refusing to file police reports after an assault, and I’d yell at the TV “What is wrong with you??? Tell the police!!!”

But, when it happened to me, I initially told no one.  And now I understand WHY a woman would do that.  Being violated is a humiliating feeling.  And telling the tale is just as humiliating.  Women blame themselves.  And society blames women.  Even when we know we didn’t invite it, and we know this was not our fault, we think no one will believe us, or they won’t do anything about it anyway.  We don’t want to keep reliving it through a never-ending legal battle.  We don’t want our lives put under a microscope by jaded detectives, or by lawyers trying to make a case for their client.  We've all seen "The Accused" and we don't want to be Jodie Foster.  It seems so much easier to try to put it out of our mind and pretend it never happened.

But it did happen.  And it keeps happening in my head.  Not all the time, but enough.  And maybe I would feel better if I had filed the police report against him 11 years ago.  An attacker is an attacker, and you are not their last victim.  If I were ever to find out that He did this to another subordinate, I would feel responsible for that too.

That is why I filed a police report against my stalker.  That is why I’m putting on my brave face and handing over the emails and IP addresses and screenshots to the detectives.  That is why I am in contact with Integra and Comcast about this person’s account.  That is why I’ve told my HR department about this person posing as a co-worker of mine - and why the authorities have traced their IP address to Oregon even though my office is in Chicago.  That is why I will not plug my ears and pretend this will all go away.

This is not easy, and it is not convenient, and it will drag this ordeal out. But I refuse to be a victim. Again.

No, let me rephrase that: I quit one of my jobs.

When I posted last Friday that I had a big announcement coming up, 46 people guessed I was pregnant (jeez, is getting pregnant all I ever do around here?!?), 2 people correctly guessed that I quit my job, 1 person thought I started a new band (you wish, RE!), and 1 person guessed that I got a book deal (that was my absolute favorite guess.)

I handed in my resignation letter at 9 am this morning, and I’m giving them until September 15th.  After that date, instead of working in an office all day, sitting in a classroom all night, baking cakes until 3 am, and seeing my kids whenever I can – I will no longer be sitting in the office all day.  The rest, I’ll still be doing.

I will be a full-time Student of law, Full-time Mom, and part-time cake business operator – never in that order.

Leaving my day-job means being able to finish my degree in half the time, which means spending less money on school, and a shorter time until I’m making money again.  It also means not paying out $2000 per month in daycare, which of course means being able to see my babies while they’re still babies.

People have been telling me for a long time that the amount of jobs/responsibilities I have on my plate is just crazy.  It is crazy.  People shouldn’t do this to themselves. My health and my family are suffering.

But giving up a $50,000 a year job is also crazy.  Especially in this economy. This has been the scariest decision of my entire life.  I’ve been with this company for 3 ½ years, and leaving anything you’ve done for that long can be an emotional struggle, even without the financial worry.  Additionally, I have to say, the idea of being technically unemployed is really, really hard on my Feminist conscious.  It puts me in a very unfamiliar, unsettling position of being reliant on my husband for financial support.  But this marriage is a partnership, and I went back to work 5 weeks after a cesarean so my husband could focus on school.  It’s my turn now.  I earned this, and He's the first person to say so.

We’ve managed to work out a plan that will help us survive until I’m finished with school - HOPEFULLY.  A month ago this wouldn’t have been possible, but Husband’s mom (seeing what we were going through) stepped in and offered to help us lower some of our bills.  Without her help, we’d never have been able to do this.  I also applied for a “Loss of Income” adjustment on my school loans so I should be able to take out some more money for us to live on until I’m through with my degree.  And of course I’ll make more cakes... anything I can do to keep us afloat.

Now, please send me all the love and support and well-wishes you can because I am quietly freaking the fuck out over here.  I know in my heart I made the right choice, but my head is a little harder to convince.

~TFB Out.

 Station Managers/Radio Personnel of (radio station name here),

This is a letter formally demands the immediate discontinuation and removal of all cyber-harassment directed at me, (my name here), by any involved member of (radio station name here).  The hosts/staff of (radio station name here) have recently given a new outlet to a known cyber-stalker by the name of (stalker name here) who has been stalking me for 6 years, making them responsible for the promotion of cyber-harassment on (radio station name here) website.  This type of harassment is a crime under state law.

The material and communications directed at me have been reported, and legal action as begun against one (stalker name here), a known cyber-stalker, a person who this station(s) has assisted in her continued harassing behavior toward myself.  If the staff at (radio station name here) continue to support this individual's cyber-harassment by posting derogatory or defaming remarks against me on their internet properties, whether written by (stalker) or by their own staff, legal action will be taken.  I demand the harassing messages contained on the site be removed IMMEDIATELY.  If these are not removed within 24 hours, I will report these actions to the authorities who are handling my complaint against (stalker).

I have been advised to send you this formal communication to make my position clear, and demand that no further contact be made with me or any member of my family, by any physical or electronic means.  Any further communications either to me, or about me in a public forum, will constitute continued harassment.

If you have been the victim of cyber stalking or electronic harassment, whether or not the harassment involves any threats or physical contact, contact your local police department to file a report.  Then visit Wired Safety to see what other action you can take, and how to protect yourself against further attacks from this individual or others, and tips on how to make your case. To view the Cyber-Stalking legislation in your state, visit the National Conference of State Legislature website.