Back by Popular Request: Elsewhere On the Internet…

I stopped doing weekly round-up posts a couple of months ago because I was sporadic at best, and honestly, I didn’t think the interest was there. But I’ve gotten tons of requests for them recently, so I decided to resurrect them. The majority of my weekly articles are usually published by Thursday, so I’m marking Thursday on my Google calendar as Elsewhere On the Internet Day.

Let’s dive right in, shall we?

This Week at The Stir:

I wrote about author Charles Murray and his ‘elitist bubble’ concept published in his new book, Coming Apart, The State of White America, 1960-2012. I scored a 37. I think that number, like my age and my weight, is just a number.

Apparently food stamps are going to fix the economy. They’re going to fix it so well that the government is giving out $75,000 grants to groups that devise ways to sign more people up for food stamps.

This one on Susan G. Komen defunding Planned Parenthood got such a hateful reaction that Mark Davis’s producer Susan contacted me to be on the show tomorrow morning to talk about it. Some people are just mean. If you’d like to listen in, I’ll be on at 7:04 Pacific, which means I’ll be locked in the garage or something while poor Leif wrangles the kids to get ready for school. I love you, Honey!

The Latest on Moms Matter:

This State of the Union Analysis is technically from last week, but seeing as CafeMom hasn’t posted this week’s article yet, I thought I’d include it anyway. Hey, it’s my site, I can post what I want to! :-)  (Even emoticons!)

What Happened on Glee:

Glee was new this week, which means I shut everyone out of my bedroom at 8pm on Tuesday to watch high school musical drama, write about it, and call it ‘work.’ My job kinda rocks. I ended up talking more about my marriage than the show though.


Happy reading!

Elsewhere on the Internet

So it’s been two weeks since I’ve done a roundup for y’all. What can I say? This summer his kicked my hiney. Between the heat and the kids and the chores and Leif’s crazy work schedule … sometimes not everything gets done. Like the laundry. But that’s another story for another day.

So go click my links (my editors like web traffic, yo!) and maybe even give my articles a glance. You might even learn something! I know I did writing them.

Just after Governor Rick Perry announced his run for the presidency, I wrote about his jobs record in Texas. Spoiler alert: It’s better than Obama’s.

I wrote about the truth behind those ‘budget cuts’ we keep hearing about. They aren’t cuts at all. They’re an increase in spending. Only in Washington … sigh.

I never thought about this problem before, but how do women get bras in Saudi Arabia? They’re not allowed to work, and men aren’t allowed to fit them. My breasts salute America!

We need Social Security reform. The Ponzi scheme is going to collapse, and soon.

In Idaho, a man is being prosecuted for killing a grizzly bear that was on his property. The bear was approaching his family, which includes six children, aged 10 months to 14 years. Bottom line: People > Bears.

Environmentalists are now going after our clean clothes. Leave my fabric softener alone!

Happy reading!

Elsewhere on the Internet

It’s the weekly roundup! And it’s not even Wednesday night at midnight yet! Props to me, huh? Well, Thing 1 is in summer camp this week, so I’m getting a bit of relative peace with only Thing 2 and Furbaby climbing all over me. Yay! One hand free to type! It’s a Monday Miracle!

Anyway, I wrote some schtuff last week. And you should click on it, because my editors like traffic. Also because it’s interesting and informative.

Leave my stuffed-crust pizza alone! You know what never solves anything? A government program designed to save us from ourselves. That’s why I advocate against the so-called fat tax.

I also extrapolated why I don’t want my rich, fat cat boss to pay higher taxes: Because I like getting raises. Less capital leads to less investment leads to no bonus checks for a job well done. Boo!!

And I wrote about birth control and why the new “womyn’s health” mandate in Obamacare is dumb and doesn’t actually open up any valuable services to poor people.

Happy clicking reading!

Abercrombie and Fitch Needs to Stop Sexualizing Little Girls

When I was in college, I loved Abercrombie & Fitch. That super lame LFO song had come out a few years earlier, and A&F was where all the Summertime Girls and cool kids shopped. A lot of my dorm-mates even kept the notoriously sexy shopping bags tacked up inside their closets.

In 2002, I stopped shopping at Abercrombie. They had started selling thong panties as part of their tween line, complete with suggestive phrases like eye candy and wink wink. I just couldn’t in good conscience support a store that would call the underwear ‘light-hearted and cute.’

There is nothing light-hearted or cute about a ten-year-old in thong panties with the words eye candy stamped on her crotch.

The store eventually (and rightfully) caved to pressure from family-advocacy and Christian groups, and pulled the provocative panties from the shelves.

The clothing retailer is once again in the news for another product in their kids’ line. This time it’s padded bikini tops for girls as young as eight. As the mother of a little girl that will be eight and in third grade by the end of this upcoming summer, I’m disturbed on many levels.

Who looked at an eight-year-old girl and thought to him or herself, Hmmm … she’s a bit flat chested. Let’s help her out a little bit?

Who’s the designer that agreed to pad swimsuit tops for little girls?

Who are the parents that buy these and in effect encourage others to gawk at their prepubescent daughters??

What purpose does a padded bra or bikini top serve other than to make the wearer sexier than she would be otherwise?

As a capitalist, I agree that it’s Abercrombie’s right to sell completely inappropriate clothing. As a parent, it’s my right to be outraged over it.

Government Health Care Rationing: Sorry Ladies, No Drugs for You

Last week we learned that ObamaCare hurts small to medium businesses by offering special waivers to the big boys like McDonald’s. What good are rules if they keep changing?

It’s (relatively) easy to pass a law requiring all citizens to purchase health insurance. The difficulty lies in actually providing medical attention to everyone who needs it. Here’s a secret that Nancy Pelosi forgot to tell you: Health insurance does not equal health care.

Since the government can’t force anyone to be a doctor, nurse, or drug-developing scientist, there’s a finite number of health care providers. In a free market, people rise up to supply the demands of society. In an ObamaCare world, people don’t want to bedoctors anymore, because there’s just too much hassle and red tape involved with government-run health care.

Now we have fewer doctors and more people wanting cheap (or free!) medical attention. (Sidebar: When are accountants going to be mandated? Because I could sure use one of those to figure out my taxes.) Something has got to give; the question is what?

Apparently the answer is services and drugs specifically for women. Last year, the U.S. Preventative Task Force recommended a reduction in the number of mammograms women receive in their 40s and beyond.

Recently, the FDA has been playing around with rationing the use of Avastin for women with breast cancer. The cutting-edge drug has been proven to extend the lives of women suffering from advanced breast cancer. The drug could still be marketed to treat other cancers such colon and lung cancer. This move suggests that the FDA is keen on rationing women’s access to health care.

From Holly Pitt Young:

When the FDA takes something “off label,” it is actually rationing treatment. It essentially gives Medicare and most insurance companies permission and justification to deny coverage for the medication.

Government health care at work: Good-bye innovation, hello rationing.

Cross Posted at The Stir

A Tale of Two Females: The Sexy Reporter and the Six-Year-Old Cheerleader

Some days I marvel at the backwards world we live in. Earlier this week I read about Ines Sainz, Mexico’s Hottest Reporter, becoming distraught because virile, athletic men wolf-whistled at her as she romped around their NFL locker room in a tight blouse and even tighter jeans.

The horror! How dare those men treat Ms. Sainz like an attractive woman obviously showing off her beautiful body in the men’s locker room? According to so-called-feminists like Joy Behar, grown women who choose to dress provocatively, post pictures of themselves in bikinis on their employer’s website, and traipse through an NFL locker rooms need to be protected from men’s raucous wolf-whistles.

Meanwhile in Michigan, a 6-year-old has been kicked off her cheerleading squad because her parents didn’t want her to participate in chanting a risqué cheer. The questionable cheer was, “Our backs ache, our skirts are too tight, we shake our booties from left to right.”

Jennifer and Duane Tesch’s daughter Kennedy was unanimously voted off the Madison Heights Wolverines flag football cheerleading team on Tuesday night, after they voiced concerns over the suggestive words of the cheer.

“I don’t even have the words,” Jennifer Tesch told “I can’t believe their solution to this was to remove my daughter from the team. She’s going to be devastated. She’s going to be crying.”

Let me get this straight. On one hand, we have 32-year-old sexpot Ines Sainz crying foul at men whistling in a complimentary way at the sensual look that she works hard to project, and we’re all supposed to come to her rescue. On the other hand, we have 6-year-old Kennedy Tesch getting kicked off of her cheerleading squad because her parents didn’t want her to wet some pedophile pants with a suggestive cheer, and we’re called prudes if we question it?

Am I the only one that sees something wrong with this picture?

How backwards is our world that grown women who freely flaunt their sexuality are afforded more protection than little girls on a cheerleading squad?

Cross-Posted from The Stir

My Breasts and My Babies

My friend Lori recently stumbled upon an article about one woman’s decision not to breastfeed her baby because the process was disruptive to her fun bags.

Under the headline “I formula fed. So what?”, Kathryn Blundell says in this month’s MotherBaby that she bottlefed her child from birth because “I wanted my body back. (And some wine)… I also wanted to give my boobs at least a chance to stay on my chest rather than dangling around my stomach.”

She goes on to say: “They’re part of my sexuality, too – not just breasts, but fun bags. And when you have that attitude (and I admit I made no attempt to change it), seeing your teeny, tiny, innocent baby latching on where only a lover has been before feels, well, a little creepy.”

She concedes that “there are all the studies that show [breastfeeding] reduces the risk of breast cancer for you, and stomach upsets and allergies for your baby. But even the convenience and supposed health benefits of breast milk couldn’t induce me to stick my nipple in a bawling baby’s mouth.”

I highly recommend reading Lori’s take on this, including the empowerment and feminity that she experienced during the two years she breastfed her daughter.

A mutual friend (and mommy like Lori and me) Kill Truck offered her opinion on the subject. She formula fed her two sons after much difficulty with latching (all moms know exactly what I’m talking about. If you’re not a mom and have made it this far-congratulations.).

I did one of each. When Thing 1 was born, I felt like I HAD to breastfeed her. Leif has severe allergies, and I had been led to believe by the La Leche crowd that formula might as well be arsenic, so the thought to formula feed never even crossed my mind.

Thing 1 came into the world sunny-side up, which if you don’t know, makes for a very painful labor once the epidural wears off. Or, as my 18 year old brother said at the time, “Not quite as painful as tearing your ACL.”

She came out 9lbs and 5oz. And she came out screaming. She screamed so much that the maternity nurses said, “Wow, that baby cries a lot.”

Anyway, back to the breastfeeding. It went really well in the hospital. She latched right away, and it was the only time she wasn’t crying. It was nice.

It wasn’t until we’d been doing it a few days that it started to hurt. Really hurt. Hurt like my nipples were going to fall off. Hurt like I wished my nipples would fall off. Every two hours (or less!), I would cuddle and feed my daughter as my toes curled into the carpet and tears streaked my cheeks. We tried to give her bottles of expressed milk, but she wouldn’t take them.

And believe me, we tried. At two months old, she went without eating for ten hours rather than take a sip from a bottle. We tried spooning the milk into her mouth, but she spit it out.

For the record, Thing 1 is still this stubborn. A couple of months ago, she gave up a trip to Disneyland because she didn’t want to eat half a cup of oatmeal. Yeah.

Around four months, the pain finally stopped. Lactation consultants chalked it up to a voracious appetite. She was correctly latched; she just sucked like a Dyson. I continued to breastfeed her until her first birthday, and I wept with relief that it was over.

I really wish I had enjoyed breastfeeding. I was worried that I was a terrible mom because I didn’t like it. I felt guilty every time I resented my sweet but colicky baby over the pain she was causing me both physically and emotionally.

I was also about 50 pounds overweight, and NOTHING I did could nudge the weight off of my ass. As a still somewhat recovering bulimic, this was not a good time in my life, to say the least. Once I quit breastfeeding, I shed 20 pounds in a month, without changing a single thing about my diet or exercise.

People often ask me why there’s a four and half year age gap between my kids. Because it took that long to recover from Thing 1’s infancy.

For the record, aside from her stubbornness, she is the most engaging, delightful, and simply joyful kid I’ve ever been around. Her teachers always make note of her enthusiasm for life, and this last year she was affectionately nick-named Sunshine.

Anyway, short story long, I did not enjoy the breastfeeding experience, and I felt like both a success as a woman for sticking it out, and a failure as a mother for not loving it.

Fast-forward a few years to Thing 2. Before getting pregnant, I promised Leif that I would try my best to breastfeed, but I was dreading it. It was really important to him though, and I love him, so I thought I’d give it a whirl again. Besides, I’d heard that the second kid is always much easier.

Plus, we decided that Leif would give her a nightly bottle from birth, and if she didn’t want it, she didn’t eat. After Thing 1, crying babies don’t exactly bother us much anymore.

A few weeks into, I knew I couldn’t go a year. Thing 2 nursed for almost two months, and then nursed at night only for another month after that. At three months, she was completely formula fed.

Leif was not on board with the decision. But being a loving (and incredibly smart) husband, he reluctantly supported me.

Until one night when he got his fun bags back.

Then he was a happy man.

As for me? I’m happy I made the decision to formula feed. I snuggled close to my little girl while I fed her a bottle, able to gaze into her pure blue eyes rather than watch the clock on the wall, wondering how much longer.  I actually felt closer to her once we started bottle-feeding than I had when we had been breastfeeding.

But my decision was not based on feeling weirded out by an innocent baby touching my breasts.  In fact, that’s the part I loved about it – that God designed us women to be, as Lori says, “Life-giving nurturers.” For that reason, I wish it had worked out for us. It just didn’t.

And that’s fine. All moms needs to make their own decision, and to make someone else feel weird or inferior for their decisions is just plain rude.

Ms. Fun-Bags and her still-perky-because-they-weren’t-stretched-out-by-breastfeeding-breasts can suck it.