Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Poop is a tool

I haven't had anything much to say for 10 days, but now I do.

I started reading Sweet Salty awhile back and her post today about a conversation with a high school friend that hasn't had kids was (as they always are) excellent.

I often feel awkward with people who don't have kids now. Just as awkward as I used to feel with people that did have them. I *do* find poop talk fascinating and don't mind it during a meal or whenever. I have disassociated from its disgustingness and now see it as a serious diagnostic tool and must learn from others what they have noticed in order to improve my diagnostic skills. It's serious business, this poop stuff.

And, yes, one of the blogs I read every-stinking-day is The Shape of a Mother, because there is no other site that has single-handedly made me feel better about the way I look. Can anyone who hasn't had a child (and I include adoptive mothers here) or been pregnant really understand what a boon this site is? Probably not. It's one of those things that you can't get until you've been there. Might it be an absolutely hellish site for women who want babies but are having trouble conceiving? Yes. Because it is so brutally honest and open and there are so many of us with scars and stretch marks and bad body image, yet who are trying to come to terms with how these things that make us feel ugly happened during the most beautiful and amazing events we've lived through. But it's not hellish to those who are not ready yet or have decided to be child-free; it's probably just silly and they think we should get to the gym already.

Kate's post today talked about how those people aren't living life. They think they are but they have chickened out on the biggest challenge there is. She says it so much better than I could. Here's a taste:

You think you’re living, really living, revelling in a life that’s all about you. Sure, you’re living my momentary fantasy: perky tits and sleeping in and jogging and international travel and sharp-edged coffee tables.

But you’re still a bunch of pussies.

Go read the whole post. This is the third link to it I've given you. And then think about whether climbing Mt. Everest is really such a feat after all. I'm thinking that compared to your 3rd almost-a-week stay in your son's hospital room before his 2nd birthday, Everest pales in comparison. Not that my husband and I should be praised in the media for what we've lived through, but my curiosity about what mountain climbing and bungee jumping and lots of other things would be like has dimmed to a mild, occasional wondering now.

And maybe all those people living adventurous lives full of travel and wine don't have it so great.


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