I unplugged today: A introspective glance at my post-social-media self.

I unplugged today.

I had to. The feels had become too strong, too numerous to silently endure any further.

I made the decision to delete my Facebook account when I became painfully self-aware that my obsession over past pictures, number of likes, and first posts had grown into a colossal time suck from which there was seemingly no escape.  “Room for one more” were the silent cries of my virtual 500+ “friends”. I found myself forgetting things that didn’t come in the form of a reminder or a pithy meme in my uncontrollable and ever-changing feed.

The first question I got: So… how does it feel?

Really? Like I had just accomplished a difficult, near impossible task. As if I shed 100lbs, or I walked on the moon, or cracked the KFC 11 herbs and spices recipe. 

How does it feel? Like…I clicked two links and saved data to a flash drive? Maybe I didn’t understand the question.

How does it feel? Like… ordering paper from Staples. No? How about.. It feels sort of soft and pudgy. Like a hot dog.

Ok, I definitely didn’t understand the question.

I had become an addict. Like most addicts, it had taken an agonizingly long period of time to come to the realization that my drug was taking me away from meaningful peace and human interaction. Familiarity seemed foreign and something had to be done. Something anti-social media and completely socially minded. Something bold and decisive and sweeping. An action worthy of a Clavell novel. Something potentially painful, but in that good way.

So I downloaded a zip file of all my data onto a flash drive, went through the 3-Step Process to delete my account, and hit the button.

So how did it feel?

The truth is, it felt empty. I thought there would be more fanfare. A sub-set chorale of pomp and circumstance playing in the background as I triumphantly went about a prolific and industrious day. But, instead, all that remained was my Spotify switching to another viral hit while I internally admonished myself for looking at my phone screen every three minutes afterward. Perhaps it’s that expectation of unrealistic drama that led me to need to unplug in the first place.

Alas, the social media software giant will not go quietly into that good night. They sent me a communication immediately confirming my choice and letting me know that I had 14 days to change my mind. You still have a chance to come back, they kindly taunted me. Reverse your obviously poor decision and rejoin the masses, they implied with their thinly-veiled, informational email. You still have time to save yourself from disaster.

I will not yield. I will not break or bend. Just as I resist the seemingly soft warm glow of religious fanaticism, so too will I resist the pretty blue Kool-Aid from the gilded cup of the Zuckerberg.

I feel like I should have a sticker on my shirt. Be nice to me.. I unplugged today.

Cooking shortcuts. Worth the price?

Even as a busy working mother, I still want to be able to keep up my end of the domestic bargain and cook for my family. That's not to say it's a burden, I rather enjoy cooking actually. But after working and caring for E all day, some nights I would be just as happy ordering from the Chinese place down the street as whip up a culinary masterpiece featured on the food network not two nights previous.

Insert Time-Saver food option here. An organic salad pre-mix makes for a quick veggie. Shredded cheeses to sprinkle over pasta and sausage for a yummy casserole, Crock-pot meals that cook all day instead of me..etc.. I'm not above a short-cut or two.

But then shopping today I saw this...

"Original" refers to the flavor? What does THAT taste like?

Sorry... what? Cooking Creme? Do you mean Cream Cheese? or wait..is it Sour Cream? WTF??

First there is the package:. Even glazing over the pretentious name, (Making it sound French doesn't put it closer to the quality of Creme Fraiche, you douche.) the description reads: "The rich taste and versatility of Original Philly, but easier to melt and spoon." There are even multiple flavors such as Italian Cheese and Herb and Sante Fe Blend. Which I guess tastes like illegal aliens and sandstone dust.

Then there are the ingredients. Not surprisingly they are not solely dairy products. They include whey protein concentrate, tapioca starch, various gums, and even sugar. 

Then there are the recipes you make with it. A veritable "Top 20 Foods to Avoid List" posted outside a Cardiologist's office. Bacon Fettuccine, Beef Stroganoff, Chicken Pot Pie. Looks like the Naked Chef is gonna have to visit a few more southern US towns after this marketing campaign gets underway.

Then there are the people who "rave" about it including the woman (direct quote) "fixin' to make a sauce to go over a ribeye but not quite nowin' how to use the product. Too bad it didn't come with instructions." Do spices come with instructions? Do vegetables? Vegetables; You know those things you see decorating the plates in "fancier" restaurants like Sizzler that people like you never touch?

Has it gotten so bad that we have reduced even casual cooks down to the most simplistic and common denominator? Products like these have left me wondering exactly at what point we decided inserting extra fat and calories was the only way to add "taste" into a meal. Standards; where did they go?

Oh, Believe me. It's time!

I joined a birth center mom's forum to keep abreast (pun intended) of the latest news and updates on everything from child psychology and milestones to everything having to do with natural baby care, nutrition, products, etc. For the most part, it has been worth my while to read the almost 50+ emails per day I get from the women who flood this thing with every topic imaginable. But every now and then, I see a post that makes me simply want to unsubscribe and never look back.

Today was one of those days. Here is an excerpt:

"Has anyone experienced agitation while nursing the older child in a tandem duo? Within the past 3 months I have gotten him down to nursing only twice a day and have stuck to it even though it has led to occasional tantrums. At times it seems unbearable and I feel the urge to push him away and I feel irritated towards him for no reason. Is this a normal feeling that happens when a child reaches a certain age? He is 3 1/2. We discussed him weaning when he turns 4, but I have recently started talking to him about weaning when he joins a soccer team in July because we decided that soccer players probably don't drink mama milk. I feel guilty both for having the bad feeling when he nurses and about pushing him to wean. Someone just tell me it's okay to wean him!"

I feel for the woman as she only wants what is best for her son and has guilt over having negative feelings towards him. But, here is why I want to shake her like a British nanny until something resembling functioning synapses fire together properly again.

First, she's looking for permission from total strangers when her gut is CLEARLY screaming at her. I'm a big believer in the gut-feeling. Even if you second and third guess yourself but find feelings of revulsion are stirred up when preforming a particular act, you probably should be avoiding it like the plague. If revulsion can keep you out of involving yourself in a third-world donkey show...well, I rest my case.

Second, HE'S 3 1/2 YRS OLD. As in pre-school age. As in probably able to share his own independent feelings on the subject of weaning in full sentences. If you are having full-blown conversations involving reasoning and social pressures, I'd have to wager a guess and say it's time to get the kid a sippy cup of apple juice and call it a day.

Third, at exactly what point does one think weaning gets easier as a child gets older? And, just how does one wean when you have to reason with said child and answer the question why? It's clearly not a nutrition thing (or a taste thing..bleh.) so that leaves the inevitable conclusion it's a comfort thing. I myself had to be weaned off a security blanket when I was almost 4. My mother's solution? Cutting it in half every time she put it in the dryer to clean it and tell me that the dryer was eating it. I wouldn't recommend the same approach here, however.

Oh, that's just a new wives tale...

Unreasonable expectations. They are something that in my life, my relationships and my career that I try never to set. I find that as a n00b parent, however, I seem to be taking them on in whole big bunches. But I refuse to take 100% responsibility for my neurosis as I come across more and more literature from doctors, psychologists, multi-children parents..(ya know. The so called "experts.") that help to further my self-doubt.

As anyone who's read "What To Expect When You're Expecting" knows, you should take care of yourself while breastfeeding by eating healthy and exercising. Makes rational sense. And the authors further clarify their statements around nutrition in allowing that once in a while, it's okay to eat something you really shouldn't. That's just good sense as well. After all you don't want to get into a cycle of denial as you'll just never be happy. But do you know what their definition of 'eating healthy' is?  Or what is an example of a food that you really shouldn't eat? "And once in a while, treat yourself to something you really shouldn't have, like a bagel."

A BAGEL??!??

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! &*^% YOU!

I think what they meant was a bacon, egg and cheese double-decker breakfast bagel sandwich... Yes, I'm sure they did.

Breast is best....or is it?

I'm starting to feel like the Age of Information is turning into the Age of Confusion for me.

It all started when I found out I was pregnant. Suddenly my love for knowledge turned into the scavenger hunt from hell to find the best advice, best products, best care..etc..possible for the little bun in the oven.  Then she came out. And it got worse. Am I burping her enough? Am I simulating her enough? Too much? Is that detergent ok? Is that onesie too tight? Are these diapers the right size? DHA. BPA, MSG....AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Oh man.. Are the walls melting for you too?

Through it all however, I was confident in my choice to breast feed over bottle feed. Because after all "Breast is Best!". Easy to remember and a simple choice just like "Tummy to Play, Back to Sleep" and "Nobody puts Baby in the corner!". My life has gone from a series of acronyms to a series of catch phrases. (Ok, that last one isn't a catch phrase, but it is a great line nonetheless)

So imagine my surprise, and confidence shaking horror, when I learned that while I personally had rapid brain development, early-developed language and comprehension skills and a relatively disease-free childhood, I was a 100% bottle fed baby. I mean I rarely even got the 1x a year cold/flu most kids get (sans flu vaccinations too!) So it led me to wonder, was formula better then than it is now? Was it worse? Where is this hatred and panic over formula coming from?

Organizations such as Baby Milk Action and UNICEF stand pretty united in standing up against evil corporations such as Nestle who over market their formula products and donate hundreds of pounds of formula to 3rd world countries which many grass-roots breastmilk organizations believe are responsible for increased illness and infant mortality rates. (See all the hub-bub at: http://www.babymilkaction.org) However, I wonder if this aggressive pro-breast stance is really any less terrorist in nature than the aggressive marketing campaigns of the baby product conglomerates. Can't we find a happy medium and get back to caring about moms and babies, rather than agendas?

HEY, YOU WITH THE WEBSITE! STOP MAKING MOMS FEEL BAD!

I think in the end, breast milk will help me give E a head start on her early immunities and so it is our primary choice. However, I will feel a whole lot less guilty about supplementing a meal or two with proper formula from now on.

Lesson of the day: Everything in moderation. That and I need to lay off the internet for a while.

Nomenclature

Graybill... WHO names their child Graybill?!?!

It has come to my attention, far removed from my own child's name choice, that there are people out there who do not give one iota of thought to the naming of their offspring. I used to joke in my pre-parent days about parents "not loving their children" when they gave them an off-the-wall moniker such as Crystal Blue Sky or Jedi Mumps or Clay Moore (I didn't make any of those up, btw. I knew or knew-of the living human beings walking around with those ridiculous names). After I had E, however, I realized that it wasn't a joke. Giving someone their name is serious business, and in the case of celebrities serious business. So how is it that so many people take it so lightly? Don't they realize the importance a name makes? Not just on the schoolyard, but in the job market, dating scene, even to their potential higher education??

I. Rest. My. Case

Fortunately for my DD, I got some practice on this responsibility in college as a big sister in my sorority. One of our jobs/rights was to choose the nickname we gave our little sisters. How did that turn out? Let's just say my little sister gave herself her own nickname. Nothing spells FAIL quite like someone telling you, in no uncertain terms, that you have no ability whatsoever to be clever.

...you are not.

I have since learned from that mistake and took close to 7 months to figure out my progeny's nom de guerre. I enlisted help, of course. I consulted books, websites, family members and friends; which in retrospect should have been avoided due to the total awkwardness of having them suggest their own names and me to force a grin and giggle politely all while thinking "No friggin way..".

Picture this at a crowded Thanksgiving dinner table.

When we finally made our choice, hubs and I argued on spelling and middle names to match. We took our last name into account and even possible initial combinations to avoid things like T.O.Y. or E.Claire. We thought about this dammit!

Now, I'm all for being original and individualistic, but I can tell you from personal experience it can take DECADES for a kid to love his/her name. However there are some names, suffice it to say, that just don't ever deserve loving. Here are just a few of the atrocities I have seen lately and what I think of when I see them: Flossie (Cow), Mamie (Old housekeeper), Zeus (Juicehead), Zeno (Serial Killer), Sage Moonblood (Gamer parents) , Fifi Trixibelle (Dog), Audio Science (Alien), Rocket Rodriguez (el Camino aficionado) and Coco (Chimpanzee).

And to the parents who name your children after their World of Warcraft characters... from now on, you are only allowed to name inanimate objects until you can prove you don't completely suck at life.

Not all baby products are created equal..

My newest four letter word happens to have five letters in it. C-O-L-I-C. I hate it. More than that jerk who shoved me on the escalator in NYC when I was pregnant or even the Doritos Truck driver I nearly vaulted 2,16 oz cups of steaming hot coffee onto for illegally cutting me off when Evie was in the car with me. I'm still kinda miffed over that. Mostly that I was on my way to an important event and didn't feel like waiting for the cops to explain my actions... but I digress.

Colic. It conjurs up horror-movie images of the nights to come, pacing the floor for hours, bleary-eyed caffiene-fueled mornings. Walking around like you're hungover without a drop to drink... fun stuff.

However, thanks to my obsessive need to find a solution to any problem, we may have found the answer to my husband getting more of the 10 hours of sleep he seems to require. I found an all-natural anti-colic homeopathic elixir. I think I would have found it a hell of alot sooner if I actually understood what colic medicine DOES. None of the so-called cures or remedies actually tell you -how- they work. Has anyone else noticed this? Even the directions on these things are pretty vague. "For use in the relief of abdominal cramping, bloating and gas". Um.. yeah ok, but Midol does the same thing and its a helluva lot cheaper. So before I spend $13 on a box of 20 doses of Dr Parnatheuses Magic Cure All Elixir and Hair Tonic, I kinda need to know..How does it work?

Can I find out on the websites of the products?..hmm.. nope. Plenty of fake testimonials and "pediatrician" recommendations though. Can I find out from the boxes of the products?...hmm.. nope. Just phrases like: "It really really works!" Can I find out on parent blogs?..hhmmm.. nope. More fake testimonials and varying opinions, with the occasional LMAO thrown in there for god knows why reason. How wonderfully unhelpful. 

Family friend and recent parent of a second little one to the rescue!! Turns out colic "medicines" simply break surface tension among smaller bubbles creating one super bubble that turn your baby from screaming mess into Charlie from the chocolate factory after consuming Fizzy-Lifting Drink (R). It's quite impressive.
-BRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP-

We'll see how things progress because one thing is certain, my gassy baby ain't getting no less gassy son.