12. A pop quiz.

QUESTION: At what point is an individual considered an official adult?

A) When an individual becomes a parent.

B) When an individual looks forward to having the heel for toast in the morning.


ANSWER: B. It's obviously B.

11

Putting socks on a baby is like trying to swat a fly. You might start with confidence - I'm a big person and that's an itty bitty fly. I can swat that fly. But the fly moves fast and darts in all directions. You're always one step behind the fly, following behind it like a ninny, darting this way and that. So you stop, collect yourself, try a different approach. You attempt to anticipate the fly's next move. But you fail. You might have even received a whack on the wrist by a flailing baby heel, which stuns you at first and then impresses you with how much it actually hurt. Hey, maybe this kid is a soccer player. Anyway. The only successful way to catch a fly is to trap it. Cover it with a glass, slide a piece of paper under it, and carry it outside to it's safety and your sanity. This is where the fly analogy breaks down. You can't very well trap a baby foot under a glass and let it fly free outside. If you did that the baby foot still wouldn't have a sock on it AND you'd be down one baby foot. If working with only one set of hands, my latest and most successful technique is to gather the sock between the index fingers and thumbs. Using the middle fingers, ring fingers, and pinkies, grab onto the knee and shimmy your way down to the foot and swoop that sock on.

Then reminisce about your college education and how it's being put to good use.

Ten: the one in which I capitalize a lot of words and continue my practice of starting sentences with 'and.'

I'm here to talk about nips. And breast milk.

I've gotten breast milk on a lot of things - clothes, babies (well, one baby), wash clothes, towels, sheets. Also my cell phone and my face. That's right, my FACE. Straight from the boob. That's right, STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOB.

When pumping breast milk it's important to get every last drop because BREAST MILK. It's worth about one billion dollars per ounce. One of my favorite mamas was sharing with me her pumping experience and in her words she would "squeeze 'em like lemons" for those last few drops. I've adopted this technique because BREAST MILK.

Now. Did you know that the nipple is designed like a fancy shower head? I'm talking about those shower heads that have multiple holes for the water to come out and all the little holes go in different directions. So imagine squeezing a lemon with a spigot like that but the spigot is actually kind of like a water balloon consistency and then whoops squeezed too hard at the wrong spot and that thing just flips backwards and boom - got milk in yer eye. And whoops wrong angle - sprayed milk all over the table and now my phone is freckled as if I accidentally left it out by the bathroom sink when I was spraying hairspray. We are talking milk spraying from boobs. WHAT?! This is real life. Real. Life. I am a mammal, pushing humans (well, one human) from my body and then feeding said human special juice from my body to keep it alive so it will grow and learn and think and change the world and reverse global warming and end poverty and stop all the bad kids of trafficking (including the kind found on the 101 South please and thanks).

So, okay, I'll take some of my own human mammal milk from my boob in the eye. But ONLY if The Tiny is for sure going to fix the traffic on the 101.

9th, finally.

The best part about this thing being a NON-blog is that the expectations of a blog being updated regularly doesn't apply. So here we are nearly two months since the last post and, and...what it is, too!

I was with a friend the other day and this little non-bloggy-blog came up in our convo and I told her the craziest part about this is that people actually read it. Ha! I mean, I write these things in solitude and no one proof reads them. Did I really talk about titties? My titties?? Publicly??? Yes I did. And I've decided I'll keep doing it - because sometimes boobies just need to be talked about (that's mostly a metaphor). Get ready, people (I'm mostly talking to myself).