One of my favorite feminist bloggers, The Feminist Breeder recently posted this awesome entry about formula marketing in hospitals, to which another blogger named Jessica, who's blog I've never read before responded accordingly in a way that sparked much debate. They then each responded, both very eloquently. You can find Feminist Breeder's response here and Jessica's response here.
They both had well thought out arguments, but if I had to pick a side I have to say I'm with Feminist Breeder. That being said, I don't think we really need to pick sides. I love that it opened up some honest discussion about breastfeeding that is beyond the typical "Breastfeeding is a choice" rhetoric that I'm so tired of everyone being defensive about. It's really worth a read.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Thursday, October 6, 2011
hit me baby one more time
I'm decidely not old enough to make any permanent decisions that will affect me for the rest of my life. This is why I have no tattoos. But this is not the reason I don't have children.
I just want to make the outright statement that my reason for not wanting children is not because I'm "not ready". I say that sometimes, I've even said it in this blog, but it's a short answer that somehow seems easier than truly explaining why I choose to be child-free.
I'm not even close to the end of my child-bearing years, I have a comfortable 15 more years to begin the journey of parenting, if that's what I chose to do. I'm not so naive that I would make a blanket statement of "never having kids". Life changes.
But I'm a bit offended by the "not ready" remarks, which admittedly are probably fueled by my own quick response, because I believe it is creating an absolute in which all women are called to be mothers and those of us who aren't are somehow not up to the responsiblity or not ready to give up our young freedoms. It is because I am comfortable with who I am and still deciding how I'll make my mark on this world that I have no need or desire to bring another human into the picture that is my life. Not to mention kids are the worst. Just the worst.
B and I occasionally discuss the "when we have kids" scenerio but that conversation usually ends with "ugh, kids are the worst." I know I wrote this post about how I didn't want to have kids because I was scared of gender socialization, but the longer I am not a parent, the happier I am as a non-parent, and the more I resent comments like "oh you'll change your mind" (okay well the same could be said for your choice to birth that thing that just shot poop up its back) or "it's different when it's your own kids" (that's exactly what I don't want).
Let me disect that last thing for a second. Sunday I was at a Panera Bread eating my grilled chicken ceasar salad in peace next to a table of 9-ish year old girls after a soccer game. These two girls were talking and the one was like...telling a story? Or ... a joke? I'm not sure. She was trying to set up a scene where there were these colored doors and you had to choose a door, and what was behind each one...I dunno. It was the worst thing ever. Listening to her ramble on about what was behind the green door, I wanted to throw my apple and have it hit her right in the face. That's how annoyed I was. And the parents either had completely tuned her out (awful) or thought it was adorable (also awful). I don't want either of that. That's what parenthood is. It's dealing with a person from conception getting bigger and bigger and learning how to negotiate the world. No thank you.
I'm going to stop myself here, and leave my post about why I want more rights for non-parents for a later date (seriously, if you choose to parent, don't shove that thing in my face, thanks) because I need to get back to my very busy life of non-parenting and keeping my money for myself. There is no poop or spitup on my shirt and I don't have to teach anything to pee in a toilet. And I don't have to pay for anything to go to college. Life is good. (Go ahead, blow up the comments about how rewarding parenting is. I might experience it someday. But this is my choice.)
I just want to make the outright statement that my reason for not wanting children is not because I'm "not ready". I say that sometimes, I've even said it in this blog, but it's a short answer that somehow seems easier than truly explaining why I choose to be child-free.
I'm not even close to the end of my child-bearing years, I have a comfortable 15 more years to begin the journey of parenting, if that's what I chose to do. I'm not so naive that I would make a blanket statement of "never having kids". Life changes.
But I'm a bit offended by the "not ready" remarks, which admittedly are probably fueled by my own quick response, because I believe it is creating an absolute in which all women are called to be mothers and those of us who aren't are somehow not up to the responsiblity or not ready to give up our young freedoms. It is because I am comfortable with who I am and still deciding how I'll make my mark on this world that I have no need or desire to bring another human into the picture that is my life. Not to mention kids are the worst. Just the worst.
B and I occasionally discuss the "when we have kids" scenerio but that conversation usually ends with "ugh, kids are the worst." I know I wrote this post about how I didn't want to have kids because I was scared of gender socialization, but the longer I am not a parent, the happier I am as a non-parent, and the more I resent comments like "oh you'll change your mind" (okay well the same could be said for your choice to birth that thing that just shot poop up its back) or "it's different when it's your own kids" (that's exactly what I don't want).
Let me disect that last thing for a second. Sunday I was at a Panera Bread eating my grilled chicken ceasar salad in peace next to a table of 9-ish year old girls after a soccer game. These two girls were talking and the one was like...telling a story? Or ... a joke? I'm not sure. She was trying to set up a scene where there were these colored doors and you had to choose a door, and what was behind each one...I dunno. It was the worst thing ever. Listening to her ramble on about what was behind the green door, I wanted to throw my apple and have it hit her right in the face. That's how annoyed I was. And the parents either had completely tuned her out (awful) or thought it was adorable (also awful). I don't want either of that. That's what parenthood is. It's dealing with a person from conception getting bigger and bigger and learning how to negotiate the world. No thank you.
I'm going to stop myself here, and leave my post about why I want more rights for non-parents for a later date (seriously, if you choose to parent, don't shove that thing in my face, thanks) because I need to get back to my very busy life of non-parenting and keeping my money for myself. There is no poop or spitup on my shirt and I don't have to teach anything to pee in a toilet. And I don't have to pay for anything to go to college. Life is good. (Go ahead, blow up the comments about how rewarding parenting is. I might experience it someday. But this is my choice.)
Thursday, September 1, 2011
and your medical charts, and when you start
This post is about menstruation. It's not an apology or even a warning, it's just a notice. Menstruation, below.
I know I'm risking losing my credibility as a reasonable feminist (street cred, yo) to say this, but dood....having periods is like....ovulation and being fertile and part of some sort of womanly bond...and like....the moon. For realz.
But then, well, then there's the blood.
(See first line above)
Okay, I know it's not really blood, it's lots of things that make up the lining of the uterus, that like...drips out of you. But like...despite how easily all the absorbent cotton products on TV make it seem, well, it's not always well-managed. Amitrite, ladies? Sometimes it's like WWII down there and you just want to throw your hands up and wave that white flag. Or well, it probably wouldn't be so white anymore, but....I digress.
Us modern women have lots of choices, both for controlling the length and flow of our periods and managing to not walk around covered in blood once a month. It's pretty amazing to think about what kinds of products and options we have today compared to what our great-grandmothers did or didn't have. But sometimes I think way way before that, back to a time when humans were just evolving. I assume that women passed along to each other that they would get this thing occasionally and that it didn't mean they had a wound, but was there ever an early time where they just didn't know what was going on? Did they ever think they were ill or did they just know it was part of the life cycle? These are the kinds of things I wonder while curled up in my sweatpants shoving a chocolate bar into my mouth. I think about cave women trying to figure out what periods were. #mylifeissad
The other thing that I find absolutely fascinating is the whole ovulation cycle. Now, I know my heteronormative is showing a little here but HOLY CRAP did you know that women's bodies were like...meant to conceive by making them the rowdiest right at the time where they're most likely to conceive? It's how we're still alive and the Dodo Bird is not. (I only assume that the female dodo birds all got "headaches" when they were the most fertile.)
I mean, check this out.
You see that purple line go up right around day 21? Yeah. That's your lady boner. Basically, God puts on a Barry White record to make little babies. It's absolutely genius. No wonder feminists are always blah blah blahing about how amazing periods are. They ARE amazing.
In today's world of Seasonale and Mirena and tampons in neon colored candy wrappers, I just didn't want y'all to forget that even though you have the incredible option of not being a baby making machine, your body is totally designed to get you off the couch every once in a while and into bed to do the nasty. That, ladies, is intelligent design. ;)
I know I'm risking losing my credibility as a reasonable feminist (street cred, yo) to say this, but dood....having periods is like....ovulation and being fertile and part of some sort of womanly bond...and like....the moon. For realz.
But then, well, then there's the blood.
(See first line above)
Okay, I know it's not really blood, it's lots of things that make up the lining of the uterus, that like...drips out of you. But like...despite how easily all the absorbent cotton products on TV make it seem, well, it's not always well-managed. Amitrite, ladies? Sometimes it's like WWII down there and you just want to throw your hands up and wave that white flag. Or well, it probably wouldn't be so white anymore, but....I digress.
Us modern women have lots of choices, both for controlling the length and flow of our periods and managing to not walk around covered in blood once a month. It's pretty amazing to think about what kinds of products and options we have today compared to what our great-grandmothers did or didn't have. But sometimes I think way way before that, back to a time when humans were just evolving. I assume that women passed along to each other that they would get this thing occasionally and that it didn't mean they had a wound, but was there ever an early time where they just didn't know what was going on? Did they ever think they were ill or did they just know it was part of the life cycle? These are the kinds of things I wonder while curled up in my sweatpants shoving a chocolate bar into my mouth. I think about cave women trying to figure out what periods were. #mylifeissad
The other thing that I find absolutely fascinating is the whole ovulation cycle. Now, I know my heteronormative is showing a little here but HOLY CRAP did you know that women's bodies were like...meant to conceive by making them the rowdiest right at the time where they're most likely to conceive? It's how we're still alive and the Dodo Bird is not. (I only assume that the female dodo birds all got "headaches" when they were the most fertile.)
I mean, check this out.
 |
| From Wikipedia |
In today's world of Seasonale and Mirena and tampons in neon colored candy wrappers, I just didn't want y'all to forget that even though you have the incredible option of not being a baby making machine, your body is totally designed to get you off the couch every once in a while and into bed to do the nasty. That, ladies, is intelligent design. ;)
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