Tag Archives: Facebook

The Lone Boob

Recently I wrote something for The Outlier Collective, a blog where a topic is chosen by the administrators and two bloggers write independently on the same subject.  When Eric, of A Clown on Fire, asked me if I’d write about Angelina Jolie’s double mastectomy my response was “Let me think about it and make sure I have something to say.”

I did a little reading and wrote 500 words in about ten minutes.  Turns out I had a lot to say.  I read it and reread it and thought “Yep.  That’s what I think.”  She did what she thought was right with the resources she has to reduce her risk.  It’s that simple.

As soon as I got to think about mentioning the fact that breastfeeding contributes to reducing the risk of breast cancer I started to second guess myself.  Me?  Hesitant to talk breastfeeding? I started to wonder if I was becoming a broken record.  Would the mention of breastfeeding cause someone to think “oh, there she goes again, back on her soapbox” and disregard the rest of my message? Maybe.  But is that a good enough reason to keep silent? I don’t think so.

I like to add an image to everything I write.  It’s Blogging 101. The pictures that I include in my posts frequently get as much attention as the post itself. In a world where Instagram and Photoshop make it so easy to beautify ourselves it seems people take notice when you put your un-airbrushed self out there.  Pictures of my stretchmarks, pictures of my journey back to some level of fitness, pictures of my leaky wet spots and yes, pictures of breastfeeding, get a lot of attention.  A lot.

But I hesitated.  Should I include a picture of myself breastfeeding  in the post about Jolie and her mastectomy?  I was searching my pictures for an appropriate image when I opened up PhotoBooth while I was writing and snapped a picture.

Recently a picture that I posted of myself nursing Lucy while I changed Emily’s bicycle tire got a lot of negative feedback on Facebook. While I elected to delete the comments and rise above it one comment in particular got under my skin.  “Some people will do anything to get attention.”  Presumably she was referring to my posting a picture of part of my breast on the internet. But her comment stung because part of me started to feel like maybe I had become a one-trick pony.  My breastfeeding posts get far and way more traffic than any others. I like to think it is because it is the topic about which I am most passionate so they are likely some of the most well written.  But I had to ask myself – am I getting lazy? Is breastfeeding my go-to when I am coming up empty?

The truth is I am nursing roughly 60% of the time that I am writing.  I am nursing 30% of the time that I am eating.   I am nursing 60% of the time that I am talking on the phone.  I am nursing 70% of the time that I read.  Because I am nursing 95% of the time that I am sitting down.  I am nursing a toddler.  And as any woman that has ever nursed a toddler can tell you it is a blessing.  Nearly 100% of the time that I stop to catch my breath I am nursing.  Life moves quickly right now. We are climbing and running and jumping and falling and exploring.  And in the moments that I take pause, the moments where I write blog posts in my mind and dictate semi-unintelligible notes in to my phone, I am nursing.

It’s not an agenda.  It’s just where I am right now.  It’s my life.  Will I be talking about breastfeeding all of the time in a few more years? Probably not.  It will always be important to me but I imagine as my life changes something else will move in to my mental spotlight.

And before someone else can say it – I guess when I am no longer nursing I will have to think of a new reason to take pictures of a single boob and put it on the internet.  The web is saturated with images of pairs of boobs.  It really doesn’t garner much attention.  But a lone boob?  Man, it really gets people riled up.   Is it just a gimmick?  I don’t think so.  But am I going to get all defensive when someone calls me out and tries to make me feel like a jerk?  Nope.

Or I suppose I could think of something else that really irritates people.  And if it has as many benefits to my own health and that of my children I will probably take pictures of that, too.  In the meantime I am just going to keep on keeping on. Doing my thing, raising my kids and being me with a lone boob out.  Because that, friends, is how I roll.

Peace out!

gooseandmama copy

 

 

New Wave Feminism

I am making peace with the fact that Betty Freidan would be disappointed  in me.  I read an insightful article recently about the growing trend for women to have a picture of their child as their Facebook profile.  What does this mean? Does it signify a “voluntary loss of self” as the article suggests.

I am a capital letter F Feminist.  I hear this battle cry loud and clear.  We are more than our children.  We are.  We are thinkers and dreamers and writers and  people.  I understand all of that.

But I don’t have a furry vest and some Minnetonka moccasins.  If I did my Facebook profile picture would be a picture of me.  And it would look just like this.  Well, maybe all but the model thin legs.

Cheater, cheater pumpkin eater….

This is a lame post… but I got a kick out of this, make a collage of your facebook status’ of 2010.

Day 46: Birthday Day!

Today’s challenge is indicative of the fact that this  book was originally printed in 2003.  It asks you to write down the birth dates of your friends and loved ones, in an effort to not forget them in coming years.

It’s nearly impossible to forget someone’s birthday since Facebook.  And in a lot of ways it really bothers me that remembering someone’ s birthday isn’t really very meaningful anymore.  I will cop to being a frequent facebooker.  It’s probably the equal parts voyeur and exhibitionist in me.  But I do try not to “Happy Birthday” everyone that appears on the upper right hand side of my screen daily.  Particularly if the recipient is someone whose birthday I never knew.  Maybe this isn’t really meaningful, either, but I highly doubt anyone is sitting around wondering why I didn’t tell them Happy Birthday amidst their 300 messages.

My inability to remember birthdays isn’t an indication of a general state of forgetfulness.  I am just bad about birthdays for some reason. Case in point, I just checked Facebook.  Today is the birthday of a guy with whom I attended middle school.  I did not know today was his birthday.  We shall call him Drew, since that his name.  I know that Drew’s phone number was 250-2435 before you needed to dial a prefix in Northern Virginia.  I know that Drew made me cry when I was 12 and that I (cringe) purchased Chicago’s “Look Away” cassette tape single for him as a  Christmas present but thought better than to give it to him.  Evidently, my heartbreak had healed in the time it took to get a ride home from the mall.  All of this to say, I am not a forgetful person.  I just have a mental block against birthdays.

So I have started entering birthdays in to the calendar on my phone. I’m not sure why I feel better about being reminded via one digital source than another.  But I do.  And I have PLANS.  Big Plans!  I am planning on setting up a 2011 file with cards and envelopes.  And addresses.  And maybe even addressing envelopes for 2011 and having myself all set up.  To send real, live, delivered to your postal mailbox birthday greetings.  Because there is forethought and intent in sending a real, live letter.

I wish I could send pink sparkly shoes to everyone of my birthday friends.  Alas, we are not all so lucky.