Wednesday, August 27, 2014

8 Breastfeeding Covers That Will Make Everyone Around You More Comfortable

There’s so much news lately about women breastfeeding in public and people being shocked and offended by it. I really feel the need to perform sort of a public service to let people know that there are several breastfeeding cover-ups out there that will make everyone around you more comfortable.
It’s very awkward and uncomfortable to be breastfeeding and have some people stare at you and give you dirty looks. This is why I have taken the time to round up some of the most effective covers I could find, that will make the experience of breastfeeding in public more comfortable for everyone.
1. The Basic
ostill/ Shutterstock
Look at this! No fancy material, no excessive heat – you are totally in control of what you see. Not leering at a breastfeeding woman has never been easier!
2. The Fancy
focal point/ Shutterstock
I’m so fancy! You already kno-ow – your boobs are so distracting, I can’t get my laundry done. Hummed to Iggy Azalea’s Fancy, obviously.
3. The Nap
Kill two birds with one stone; hide your offended eyes and catch a few Z’s. Being offended for no reason has never been more relaxing.
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Saturday, August 23, 2014

I Breastfeed For All The Men Out There Who Don’t Have The Internet And Can’t Google Boobs

Why do I breastfeed? For men. Duh.
Sure, my infant child gets nutrition out of the deal and stays alive, and that is a bonus – but the real reason I breastfeed is because I am an exhibitionist. Also, I know there’s a man out there whose internet connection in his mom’s basement is spotty at best, and he need to see boobs, too. I’m doing it for him, obviously.
The internet understands my plight. There was a story about breastfeeding moms who took over an Oklahoma park and held a breastfeeding demonstration. Some may think that these women were protesting society’s ridiculous sexualization of the most normal, necessary practice in the world. Nope. I’m sure these moms don’t care a lick about that. They really just couldn’t shake the thrill that publicly showing the tiniest glimpse of their nipples gives women. It’s really a rush I can’t describe.
The following comments really illustrate how much society as a whole understands women, biology, and nurturing. We are not feeding our babies! We’re getting a sick thrill out of flashing our boobs. WE DO IT FOR THE MENZ!
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Seriously! Have some decency! I know your baby’s mouth and head is totally covering up your entire breast, and the general public can only imagine what your boob looks like – but feeding an infant is gross. Cover up!
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Saturday, July 12, 2014

Esquire Shocked To Find Hot, Gorgeous Women Over 40 Hot and Gorgeous

When I saw the Headline, In Praise Of The 42-Year-Old Woman on an Esquire link this morning, I had little hope that this article, written by a man, would make me feel any other emotion besides rage. I was wrong. It was too stupid to elicit rage.
Let’s face it: There used to be something tragic about even the most beautiful forty-two-year-old woman. With half her life still ahead of her, she was deemed to be at the end of something—namely, everything society valued in her, other than her success as a mother. If she remained sexual, she was either predatory or desperate; if she remained beautiful, what gave her beauty force was the fact of its fading. And if she remained alone… well, then God help her.
And so it beginsTom Junod tries to understand how women have pushed back against the shallow constraints society has always imposed upon the ticking time-bomb that is their age and beauty. How have they conquered the stresses and stereotypes of age? By working out and staying beautiful of course! Spoiler alert; there’s nothing alluring about a 42-year-old woman unless she manages to look 30.
Mrs. Robinson was forty-two. And so if you want to see how our conception of forty-two-year-old women has changed over the last five decades, simply imagine The Graduate remade today, with Cameron Diaz in the part made famous by Anne Bancroft. Or Sofia Vergara… Or any of the forty-two-year-old women now gracing our culture… In the right hands, it would be funny; but even in the wrong hands it couldn’t get away with what Mike Nichols and Dustin Hoffman got away with: a movie that turned on the hero’s disgust with himself for having an affair with a forty-two-year-old woman.
In actuality, Mrs. Robinson wasn’t 42. Bancroft was 36 when she played the role that would become synonymous with “predatory old sex fiend” forever. She was just six years older than Hoffman in “real life.” And while we’re on the subject, did we see the same movie? Because I’m pretty sure Hoffman’s character was disgusted by the fact he was sleeping with his fiancĂ©’s mother – not because he was putting his penis in what Junod clearly thinks is a dried up old vagina.
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Thursday, June 26, 2014

10 Things I Thought Moms Were Exaggerating Until I Became One

I’ve admitted before that I was a waaaaay better parent before I actually became one. Witnessing the way some of my friends were dealing with motherhood, I was silently smug with the idea that the whole thing would be a breeze for me. I was wrong.
I would like to officially apologize to all of the women I silently judged before I became a mother. You have no idea who you are, because I would never have voiced such things – but I really thought you were all exaggerating about how tough certain things can be. I’m dealing with my karma now. I accept it. Here are a few of the many things I didn’t believe about motherhood:
1. How much it hurts to breastfeed.
I thought it was the most natural thing in the world and of course the baby would just instinctively know how to latch right and it would be happily ever after. Funny. I paid for this assumption with sore, cracked nipples.
2. The whole “lack of sleep” thing.
I really thought the lack of sleep thing was exaggerated for comedic effect in pregnancy rom-coms. It’s not. There’s something about not having an uninterrupted night of sleep for a few years that changes a person. I’m probably dumber than I was before I gave birth.
3. How hard it is to get a kid to eat sometimes.
Just feed him what you’re eating and if he doesn’t it eat it – oh well. A kid is not going to starve himself! Shut the fuck up, me.
4. The importance of naps.
I always thought my friends who were adamant about their kid’s nap schedules were going overboard. Now I see it’s one of the only times in a day when I get some time to myself. I get it. That is important.

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Sunday, June 22, 2014

"It's Time We Started Telling Our Own Jokes, Don't You Think?"

"What Hollywood exec would greenlight a show based upon someone's gender transition without it being some sort of joke?"

That's the question Marlo Bernier asks in her YouTube spot advertising the fanbacked page for the television series she's developed about her own transition - Myrna - An Original Dramedy Television Series. 

"Going the conventional route would take decades." 
I think we can all agree that's an accurate assessment, considering the representation of pretty much every other group except straight, white men in Hollywood. We're all fringe, people. We're all underrepresented.

After a successful career in front of the camera and on the stage, an actor is willing to sacrifice everything when she finally confronts her true gender identity and transitions from male-to-female. 
We follow Myrna as she struggles to find work as an actress, wrestles with a manager who still wants to send her out as her former-famous self, Michael and deals with the drama of her friends' reactions as they make an effort to come to terms with Myrna and her life-altering transition.

Myrna is comical, caustic, moving and deliciously dark.

I want to hear this story - it speaks to me. What the hell could a 40 + heterosexual mother-of-two have in common with this character? A lot. That's the point. This is a human story. I could insert my own specs into this plot - as could probably all of you. Here's what I mean:

After an amazing few decades as a childless person in NYC, a woman is willing to sacrifice her freedom and financial stability when she finally confronts her drive to be a mother.
We follow Maria as she struggles to find work as a freelance writer, wrestles with a family who still wants to see her as the irresponsible baby who needs to be taken care of and deals with the drama of her childfree friends' reactions as they make an effort to come to terms with Maria and her life-altering transition.
Who wants to see the same damn characters over and over and over again? I don't. I want to hear Myrna's stories. I want groups who are underrepresented in Hollywood - basically everyone besides heterosexual white men - to tell their own stories, or at least be considered valuable enough that Hollywood is driven to not merely make them punch lines.
"It's time that we started telling our own jokes, don't you think?"

You can donate to the project here.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

How I Got Pregnant After Five Years Of Infertility

I’ve been reluctant to write about a series of events that lead up to me finally getting pregnant after five years of infertility. I hate people who claim that if you only eat a certain way or (insert gimmick here) you will be on the road to motherhood in no time flat. It’s so condescending. That’s why in the three and a half years since I had my first child – I’ve never told any of these stories. But I talk about so many other aspects of my life – my pregnancies, my infertility struggles, my parenting pitfalls – it seems a little strange to leave this part out.
These things I’m about to discuss could be completely coincidental, but I’m telling you about them anyway.
I had been trying to get pregnant with no luck for about five years. Well, I shouldn’t say “no luck” – there were some pregnancies in that time. They all ended in miscarriages. My early thirties was a pretty emotional, tumultuous time. After some back-to-back miscarriages followed by the death of my father – I was really feeling more drained than I ever had before. I was not myself. I started searching for something to make me feel better.
This is the most ridiculous admission in the world, but one morning I got a GOOP newsletter and there was a story about a doctor who had completely changed his practice to begin helping people get healthy. He had been a heart surgeon, and when he found himself sluggish and ill he changed his diet and a lot of other things about his life changed, too. You may or may not have heard of “The Clean Program” – but that was his brainchild. It’s basically a really expensive cleanse – but there is also an option to do juice stuff yourself and avoid the pricey supplements. I decided to give it a whirl.

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Monday, June 9, 2014

Every Woman Who Gives Birth Surgically Hasn’t Been ‘Tricked’ Out Of A Natural Birth

Having given birth surgically twice, my feelings about “natural” childbirth have changed immensely. And not because I “failed” at what people call natural birth, either. When you actively seek a natural birth, you actively seek out people who are proponents of it. Sometimes those people are so narrow minded it can be mind-blowing in retrospect.
I fully support the idea that many women can birth without the help of interventions or drugs. The thought of having a child this way has always appealed to me. Those images of women seeing their children for the first time and bursting into tears of joy are deeply ingrained in my psyche. Having struggled with infertility before my first child was born, and having five years to dream about what it would finally be like to give birth put an immense load of pressure on the experience.
I, like many women who research birth, saw The Business of Being Born. The statistics presented in the documentary are real – and they are disturbing. The thought that many doctors had never witnessed a totally unmedicated, unassisted birth boggled my mind. Image after image of women in hospital crying and being wheeled into an operating room really scarred me. I began to believe the notion that most OBs were against natural births and were really just surgeons laying in wait to cut pregnant women open.
My first child was born via emergency c-section, so my dreams of an unmedicated birth flew out the window. I was there. I heard his heartbeat almost come to a complete stop. I saw the hospital staff rushing around me and running me into the O.R. I knew that a c-section was necessary. But when I actively sought out a midwife to assist me in getting a VBAC for my second pregnancy – this was the first conversation that we had:

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