I Should Rename This Blog

(in which I am the last person to opine on the breastfeeding magazine cover bandwagon)

I should call it "Not Judging, Not Judging."  Except that I am.  I can't help it.  Why write a blog if you don't give your opinions, right?

I don't care that the mother on the infamous recent cover of TIME magazine breastfeeds her 3.5 year old.  I am definitely pro-breastfeeding, if the mother is able and willing to do so.  If it works for them, go ahead.  But what I DO care about is the fact that this child will forever be "that kid" with his mother's breast in his mouth on the cover of TIME.  Why would you do that to your child?  I can't fathom doing something like that myself.  And if you were determined to go ahead and pose for the cover, why that awful, unnatural pose?  Why not hold your baby (your 3.5 year old baby) the way a nursing mother does? 

Oh well.  In the grand scheme of things I guess the whole thing isn't that bad.  She is caring for her child, and there are way too many children in this world who don't get the benefit of a caring parent.

POST SCRIPT:  I want to amend what I wrote yesterday.  I still think that the mother could have insisted on a picture in a more natural pose, but I have to say that I am really pissed at TIME magazine for inciting this whole ridiculous kerfluffle.  Shame on them.

I need a personal shopper.

I took the day off today - a good decision.  I need a random day off every now and then to spend time with my boy(s.)  I was all set to go shopping this morning - E. was watching the baby and I wanted to get a few things for him and for me. 

I went to Babies R Us first.  I bought some plastic bibs, a finger brush to clean baby's emerging teeth, and a portable place mat for when we go out and about.  I intended to look at umbrella strollers.  I had no idea that was to be my undoing!  I got all "floopy" - my word for overwhelmed and stressed - doubting whether we really needed one right now, wondering if this was too much to pay for one, etc. etc.  Then I pondered buying a giant box of diapers, trying to calculate prices versus the smaller sized box we usually buy at Target, and I became floopier. 

There were, of course, babies in the store, and I just missed my little guy.  I waited in line for ten minutes to check out, because as usual, there was only one register open.  That store is overpriced, understaffed, and overwhelming!  I finally got the hell out of there... and decided that I didn't have it in me to go on to Kohl's and shop for clothes for me.  Since I've had the baby I don't know how to shop for myself anymore!  Opportunities to go out by myself are rare, what with our work schedules, and I suppose when I do get the chance there's all this pressure to make the most of the time out.  I really need some new clothes, but I have no idea what to get.  It's easier to wear old jeans and t-shirts all the time. 

Anyway, first-world problems, right?  Despite my mishaps, it was a great day.  Such happiness in being at home with E. and J.  My baby boy will be seven months old tomorrow!  How is that possible?  

Already Snarky

I've just been back to work two weeks and I'm already the snarky librarian again. :) In reality, everyone here has been absolutely lovely to me, asking after the baby and my family, indulging my desire to show off pictures. It's quite a transition - just when you sort of get a hold on being a mother in the first place, they yank you back to the workforce for most of the day! Not coincidentally, I bought a Powerball ticket last week for the first time in years.

Anyway, my snarkiness has absolutely nothing to do with my patrons, but with the books I shelve day in and day out. I have a running list of authors who need to stop writing books. Oh, I don't really mean it - these authors are still quite popular, and people coming into the library to check out their books in part justifies my job, right? So of course I am not serious. But in terms of my loathing to shelve their books (more accurately, smooshing and shifting their books into an ever decreasing space on the shelf) I hereby would like these authors to cease and desist.

In no particular order: James Patterson, Nora Roberts, Danielle Steele, Debbie Macomber, Janet Evanovich, Patricia Cornwell, Tom Clancy (the DOORSTOPS this guy comes out with!), and Clive Cussler (although he gets points for writing the book that became the cute movie Sahara with Matthew McConoughey.)

I actually don't read any of these authors, which makes it much easier for me to dismiss them. Next, I move on to genres. In the cross hairs: Amish romances and anything with a vampire or werewolf.

Secrets and Pet Peeves

Secret: I don't like the K-town Mexican food institution that is Senor Taco. I'll go there willingly for a birthday party or a get-together, but I just don't share the love for that place that everyone else in my age bracket seems to feel.

Pet Peeve: When people say "Li-berry" instead of "Library."

Secret: I feel ignorant and uninformed when the talk turns to unions, collective bargaining, and balancing state budgets. I hear people say all the time that unions are part of the reason nothing is made in America anymore. I tend to favor the corporate greed argument, but I know it has to be more complicated than that.

Pet Peeve: When people get their library card out of their wallet and throw it on the desk.

Secret: I sometime worry that my friends think I'm an annoying, uncool, boring doofus.

Pet Peeve: When I say "Hello" or "How are you?" to someone and they don't respond. Am I speaking Farsi?

Secret: I count and cheer on every single day that this baby is in my body when I get up in the morning. 22 weeks and 3 days, 22 weeks and 4 days... way to go Peanut! I pray that he is healthy, I am healthy, and we both make it happily through all 40 or so weeks, through the delivery, and beyond.

I am too blessed to concentrate on more pet peeves. :)

Puh-lease.

Is this really neccessary?!?

In addition, I would like to abolish all Jane Austen "updates" - the latest one I saw on our shelves is Bespelling Jane Austen. It's four romantic novellas based on Austen's works - with a paranormal twist. The poor woman. Can we just LEAVE HER ALONE? Her works are timeless masterpieces in and of themselves!