Saturday, March 13, 2010

Baby Talk

I had some time to kill this afternoon while I was in town. I'm still killing time right now, which is why I'm reaching for a topic to talk about on here.

I filled some of my time this afternoon by meeting my brother and his wife--along with their new baby--at Target. This was fun, because I always like spending time the little guy, but I experienced something I wasn't quite ready to experience. I'm sure for any parent this wasn't out of the ordinary, but apparently I'm just not parent material quite yet.

We went to the "Baby Section" of Target, which was a first for me. In fact, when I picture the inside of Target in my mind, there's this whole area that's fuzzy...unexplored territory, if you will. That area is baby-land, and there's a lot there.

Of course, that area is filled with products I didn't know existed...first foods, second foods, nipple cream. I just gagged a little bit, excuse me. But it's also filled with people who know what these things are, and they're much more accustomed to being around these items than me. I was so uncomfortable I might as well have been in the women's locker room at a senior citizens' fitness center.

I walked to one aisle in an attempt to be helpful and find soy formula or something like that and there were two women talking a little too freely about something I didn't want to hear.

"Ugh, my nipples hurt so bad..."

I blacked out momentarily, but when I came to, the conversation had shifted to breast pumps.

"When I was nursing Kylie, we went into the Bob Marshall (a wilderness area here in Montana for those who don't know) for a couple days."

"And you took her? What did you do with the used diapers?"

"We packed them out."

I can't be within 100 feet of a dirty diaper for more than 13 seconds. I couldn't imagine three days.

She continued: "But anyway, I had to pump with this one (apparently pointing to a product on the shelf...I couldn't make eye contact) and my boobs were so sore..."

I blacked out again, I think, but I was able to escape. It was like I was running from a man-eating lion I was so uncomfortable. Empty handed and apologetic for not making any progress, I met up with my brother and we went and found some dog food. We got to walk past the sporting goods and automotive sections and I think the color returned to my face. It's nothing really, but I felt like I had a brush with death.

So for those of you who have kids, don't assume the rest of us are comfortable hearing about your baby stories. And don't tell me how much I have to learn when I get married and have kids. Parents love telling people that and frankly I hate hearing it. So does everybody else, so knock it off. We get have kids and you know infinitely more than me. Fine. I sleep all night and take naps when I want to and go to the gym when I feel like it and take trips and go to movies. Boom.


  1. Is it just coincidence that all the ads on the right side of the page are related to nursing babies???

  2. Oh least I have an idea of what to get you for your next might just come from that very isle you were in! :)

  3. Seriously? Talk of boobs makes you pass out? I wish I would have known that sooner. Or I wish we hung out more now. All I do is talk about boobs.

  4. Lisa, I'd just be happy to get a birthday gift. Whatever you need to spend your money on...

    Brooke, it's not necessarily the talk of boobs that makes me cringe, in fact I can talk about boobs all day. But when the context is mom-boobs and how they're used for babies, it's different. Feed-bags vs. Fun-bags, if you will...