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I’m All Talked Out

This morning started early. I was in a car at 3.20am to head over to Fox News so I could tape live for their show. I crawled back into bed at 5am and slept fitfully until almost 9.

I sent girls to the beach and took my son bowling. I worked in a few conference calls during the day. I’m working with a great brand that’s looking to connect with parenting bloggers so if I haven’t reached out to you yet, you know where to find me.

Tomorrow I’m going to fly. Really, I am. I’ll have some video for you tomorrow I hope.

I’m tired of talking about the Breastfeeding doll. It’s less creepy to me than a doll with a fake plastic nipple. Breastfeeding is normal. The halter is weird, but kids are weird. I remember the Barbie dream house coming with a chicken that laid eggs. The egg was a tic tac. I really wanted the dream house so I could eat the chicken’s tic tac egg. I also loved my brother’s Six Million Dollar Man doll. Whenever I look at the Intel logo I think of the chips in this stomach.

The wacky phone calls have begun. Hint to the nerds: when you call here pretending to be a reporter they typically start with this, “Hello this is [first name] [last name] from the [name of outlet] I was calling to [fact check/get a quote from you]. Is this a good time.” The phone calls don’t typically begin with, “I’m calling for Jessica, I’m with a small town newspaper.” And then you make up the name of a newspaper that doesn’t exist, ask me if Fox News is scripted and then you hang up. See, I’m helpful, I give tips.

I’m excited that I’ve joined the Moms Clean Airforce. I’d love to ask you to look at what you put into the environment and what you expect to take from it. There are many shades of green, and I’d like to move from lighter to a darker shade of green. Mindfulness is where it begins.

Tomorrow I’ll fly. Tomorrow blogging will be different.

2 thoughts on “I’m All Talked Out”

  1. Dude… you totally have to turn that part about the “wacky phone caller tips” into a full blown satire piece.  It needs to be done.

    Isn’t it funny how they come out of the woodworks but aren’t even clever enough to troll well?

    Can’t wait to hear about your flying. Kinda hope it’s the kind where you do the “free-fall practice” where you “fly” over a DC-10 engine in a place like this http://www.skyventurecolorado.com — I did it years ago in Las Vegas and it rocked! :)

  2. Hey, I found your site through a clip of you that I saw on The Daily Show, I was curious about the clip’s context and low and behold, here I am.

    I know you said that you’re sick of talking about the Breastfeeding Doll, but I just felt like saying something since the issue is still really fascinating to me. (Helped no doubt, by the fact that I only just discovered it’s existence.) Primarily though, I find it interesting that my visceral reaction is “Ick! Gross!” although when I think about it, I’m not sure quite why. Does this make my emotional response ignorant and/or incorrect? And this is where I tried to address the possible sources of my revulsion piece by piece.

    As you’ve already stated, breastfeeding isn’t sexual. This is actually a whole issue that could be taken apart on it’s own, but I think for the sake of this evaluation we can put the perceived or unperceived sexuality of breastfeeding as not relevant. Breasts are sexual, primarily; breastfeeding isn’t. Certainly there are those who fetishize it, but there are other people who fetishize feet, and we wouldn’t be having this discussion if a children’s foot massage parlor playkit were being sold. That would also be a bit creepy though, but I digress.

    With this toy in question though, I thought about little girls pretending to breastfeed dolls that weren’t designed for that purpose (I hope that’s never taken out of context) and I wasn’t grossed out at all. Which makes me think that the issue comes into play when you take the call to partake in that activity, out of the child’s hands, and into adult advertisers’ hands.

    Lots of little kids will do the whole “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” thing, and that’s not gross or weird; it stems from innocent curiosity and can be a significant part of forging your identity and growth. But if an adult initiates that in anyway, THEN it becomes really weird. Like, “call the cops” weird.

    And it wouldn’t even matter what their intent was, it’s simply an arena that no adult should be apart of, regardless of how “progressive” or “hip” they consider themselves to be.

    But do I now know 100% why this whole situation is icky? No. But like I said, it’s the complexity of this issue that makes it so fascinating to me. Maybe I’ll solve it after I mull it over for a few months; we’ll see.

    I hope that dissection was enlightening in some way, or at least interesting.

    Thanks!

    -Ty

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