I watched a documentary today* about giving birth, and about how doctors are all trying to kill babies and if you have an epidural you're definitely going to abandon and/or eat your own young because it's science. Also, I got to see Ricki Lake's boobies. And her vajerna, what with a baby comin' out of it. In her bathtub. Like God intended.
But if God really intended for me to see Ricki Lake's hoo-ha, I'm starting to wonder for the first time if he really is a good God.
Just kidding. But ferreals, ew.
Tonight I stumbled onto a parenting website. Now for those of you who remain blissfully unawares, "Internet Mommies" as I'm choosing to dub them, have their own unique language. DD is Dear Daughter, DS is Dear Son, and so forth for Dear Husband, Dear Wife, Dear Sister Who Once Stole My Boyfriend In High School So I Only Talk To During The Holidays And Then Only After Extensive Therapy And Drinking, etc.
Internet Mommies also like to post their Internet Mommy Credentials at the end of each of their posts. Because, of course, I don't know what to think about what you say as an Internet Mom if it's not immediately followed by your anniversary, children's birth dates, first, middle, and last names of all of your loved ones/anyone-you've-ever-met-ever, and your driver's license number. Obviously.
Tonight though, I found some extra letters on one Internet Mommy's resume, and had to head back to Google for some definitions. So here ya go:
EBF: Exclusively Breast Fed. This one I'd heard before, mostly from people who identified that my children, despite my bestest efforts, were NOT this. Apparently as a cow I was meant more for beef than for milking. I did learn, however, that it can also mean EXTENDED Breast Feeding, for those who want to identify themselves apart from those jerks who only Exclusively Breast Feed their babies for 12 months, the monsters.
ERF: This was the letter-ism that first caught my eye. (Exclusively Rear Fed??) But apparently it means Extended Rear Facing. These people would like you to take their advice on the internets based on their credentials as people who keep their children's car seats facing the trunk instead of the motor for over 1 year, again, unlike the other monsters out there.
Which then led me to EH: Extended Harnessing. Like ERF, this is a car safety credential, but this is specifically a rejection of putting your children into a booster seat at age 4, and instead keeping them strapped into a 5-point harness (any parent who ISN'T TRYING TO MURDER THEIR BABIES uses a 5-point harness) well into their preteen years. According to the internet, these people are like the super-organic, found food, gluten free, fruitarians of the car-safety world.
Now personally, and please don't call Child Protection on me, I haven't earned any of those letters for my resume. In fact, if I were to make my own, it would probably have to say things like, Lets My Kids Eat Cheerios That Were Probably Dropped On The Carpet Yesterday, and Frequently Laughs When My Daughter Talks About Her Own Farts. But really, I assume you don't need to know those things about me. That's right, I have a blog wherein there are pictures of me in short shorts and a sports bra to exhibit how fat I *was*, and I'm coming down on someone else for extensive self-disclosure.**
Here's the lesson for today, folks. That's great if you want to give birth in your bathtub or trap your children in a car seat till they're 27, or even, I hope, let them eat floor food. If you believe in it, if you think it's best, rock it. More power to ya. But do you really have to introduce yourself like this is the world's most bizarre AA meeting? "Hi, my name is Ashley, and I breast feed my gassy teenaged children while they are being restrained against their will?" I mean, sure, there's a lot of prestige in it...
Signing off and heading to Bed,
Owner of Dear Cat- adopted from the manager at my old apartment 3/05/07
*By today, obviously I mean a few years ago. Sorry if that was confusing.
**Not this blog. Other blog. Old blog that was a super duper lot about it weight loss. But I don't want to talk about that so much anymore, except to tell you that I lost 9.9 pounds in January. Like a superhero.
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