February 10, 2012 by Heather
…I can talk about genitalia. Isn’t that such a funny word? It could almost be a nice name for a girl, like, “Hi, I’m Genitalia, but you can call me Geni.” I mean, if it wasn’t already a word that meant, well, you know.
I’ve been reading this book we got from our OB doctor in Colorado about how to care for your baby. First of all, it has these awkward photos of different breastfeeding techniques that make me really uncomfortable. I’ve seen mothers breastfeed, and even though it does make me laugh at first, it is still sweet and special. But something about the pencil drawings of a hand sandwiching an engorged boob just make me feel so weird.
So this morning I was reading a few more pages in the book and came to the part about how to care for a, well I’m just going to say it. How to care for a little baby penis. Somehow saying “baby” with it makes it better. It was all about the different cleaning techniques for circumcised or uncircumcised baby penises. Thank goodness there were no pencil drawings. I am so excited about having a boy, but the cleaning directions grossed me out. I had already realized, after changing my sweet and perfect angel niece’s diaper, that changing a boy’s diaper would require a little more intricate cleaning. They just have more… folds. Anyway, all the stuff about caring for a freshly circumcised baby penis stressed me out a wee wee bit. (Haha, get it?) Statements like “The yellow substance on the end of the [baby] penis is normal healing tissue and should not be washed off when cleaning the [baby] penis” made me worry that I am going to totally screw up my son’s genitalia. I mean, if I see a yellow substance, my first instinct will be to wipe that nasty mess off.
I think I might need to make myself some post it notes about baby penis care to keep above the changing table.
Enough gent talk for one day. Moving on.
I love Kelly Ripa. I think she is so funny and cute and I love watching her on Live with Kelly (which, in my opinion, is better than Live with Regis and Kelly). BUT. But. Just about every time I watch, she makes a comment about her saddlebags or her rolls or how she has to stand in a certain way in photographs to hide all her baby weight that is still there. And it just bothers me so much! I’m a fan of self depreciation humor, I really am. But come on, Kel. You are a tiny, tiny lady. Tiny. Three of you could fit in that chair you sit in behind your desk. And I’m not jealous, because I am totally hot and awesome, but I can imagine some overweight person getting really mad about this itsy bitsy woman talking about how jiggly she is! I still love her so much, I don’t even care. I’m over it.
Do people in local commercials ever watch other local commercials? Because I do. And if I was ever part of making one I would not want it to look anything like all of the other local commercials. They are just so awkward. Especially the lawyer ones. And the local jeweler ones. And the furniture store ones.
Last night I had a big craving for poached eggs. More specifically, eggs benedict. BUT since I can’t have hollandaise sauce I was going to improvise and just drizzle melted butter on top. Ok, it was a big improvisation because it was also going to include a bagel instead of an English muffin and plain ol’ ham instead of Canadian bacon. Nonetheless, the poached egg was the star, and I was determined to do it.
I can’t even tell you how disastrous it was. It was a monumental kind of failure. So bad. And I’ll just leave it at that.
Speaking of bagels, my most favorite breakfast for the past two weeks has been a glass of milk and a toasted whole wheat bagel with cream cheese. The regular, full fat stuff. I get really sad when I take the last bite.
Listen, I’d love to stay and chat but the cameras for The Real Housewives of Saline County are on their way to film my exciting and provocative segment for their new hit show. I’m kidding.
Happy Weekend 🙂