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Bless The Breasts And The Children

I am a thirty-five year old woman. I have not had a child in thirteen years. For the most part, the days go by complacently with the biggest catastrophe being, will we watch a great movie tonight or will we sit and watch an MTV program with our daughter?

Three days ago, I brought my sister and her newborn son home from the hospital to stay with us. Three days ago, my life changed irrevocably and I do not know who I am anymore.

I have learned that I can function without food or long stretches of sleep. I lost eighty pounds in two days and the tune, "Kim...will you do me a favor" is the number one song in our house.

The highlight of errand-running with my sister is when she is nursing the baby. Most women would wear an easy-to-access shirt and pants. Yesterday, my sister wore a sundress. While driving, my sister pulled the dress up to her neck to nurse. This is fine with me, I have no problem with nudity in times of need. However, a few minutes later the neighborhood ice-cream man drove by, complete with kiddies' music blaring from the speakers. For the first time in my life, I witnessed the ice-cream man slowing down. All that time as a kid, running top speed to catch up, all I had to do was wave a boob picture in the air. Not only would the ice cream man have come to a screeching halt, we could have traded products.

Hauling groceries from the car in 100 degree weather isn't suitable for neither man nor woman. Yet, I do believe that the dog, and I say dog because there is a lot of panting and howling involved, who hauls in the food shouldn't lift a finger to put the food away. I didn't say this is actually the case. It never is. But it should be.

Now I go for long stretches of time without thinking, which pleases my husband. I used to have deep thoughts, wondrous considerations and interesting what-if ideas. It now takes me five minutes to realize I'm staring out the window and another five minutes to figure out if the sun is shining or not.

In one twelve-hour period, my sister went through a roll a toilet paper . How is this possible? I mean, I know things are dire down there right now, but I don't understand how one person could go through a whole roll of toilet paper that quickly. Did some of it get lost? Has my five-day old nephew taken up potty-training already?

My counter tops, which were once filled with decorative items, are now storage for forty nipples and plastic bottles. I have never seen so many nipples in all my life. My new hobbies are seeing how many times a day I can: bag up garbage, run the dishwasher, wash and dry clothes, run around the house not remembering what I am actually doing, toting a bottle of 409 around as a hand weight, see how hard I can rock the recliner, how long I can walk in a straight line across the kitchen floor while rocking the baby back and forth in my arms, without falling down and killing us both and eating an entire meal in twenty-five seconds.

My sister was concerned about my behavior in Wal-Mart yesterday. Some women love to go shopping and chit-chat with strangers apparently while they have a four-day old baby in tow with the day in a chaotic mess. I hate shopping and I hate going to Wal-Mart. I would rather pull hang nails out of my toes for five hours straight then have to maneuver a basket through the zoned-out masses. Plus, for me, the idea of hauling ten thousand bags in and out of the car isn't a joyride. I'd rather clean my house, including all of the backyard dog poo, than deal with shopping. She loves Wal-Mart. Every time I am there I want to shove my basket into the nearest, biggest ass I can find. Oh, I would never do that. I just grin and walk. One of those grins that say, "I'm smiling to be nice but if you don't move your basket I am going to get on the floor and pitch the biggest, most embarrassing fit you've ever witnessed in your entire life so if you know what is good for you, get the hell out of my way now." I then smile again and say thank you.

A bumper sticker which reads 'Socially-Challenged' may be appropriate.

I used to think medications like Prozac were bad for you and made you crazy. I'm now thinking it could set me free. Even when it is quiet it's not enjoyable because I sit and wonder how long it will last, thus ruining the moment completely. I'm tired, happy, crazy, emotionally over-wrought and spaced-out. Thank you Starz movie channels for seeing me through and Don Juan's salsa for providing the only spicy moments I can have lately.

See you next week! I have to go find my brain now.

Kim Burke - Because life's too short for ordinary idiots

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