Just big-boned

I was listening to NPR on my way to work this morning (surprise!) and they were talking about some law suit thing by the Hobby Lobby against the Affordable Care Act or something because they don't want to pay for their employees to have access to the morning after pill or IUDs.  But everything else is fine?  I don't get it.  And the dude they were interviewing referred to Plan B as an abortifacient.

Plan B, the morning after pill, emergency contraception, whatever you want to call it, does not cause abortions.  That pissed me off in the Walking Dead, too, when what's her name had Glenn go and get her a bunch of Plan B and she was eating it like candy to cause a miscarriage or some shit.  It doesn't work that way.  It can prevent conception if taken soon enough after unprotected sex.

So, that got me a little mad this morning.  The whole miseducation about what emergency contraceptives actually are and what they do.  Then I got kind of mad that I was getting mad about it.  Then I wondered why it was even considered "news" to begin with, then I started thinking about Chuck Palahniuk and his book, Lullaby.  He writes:

Old George Orwell got it backward.  Big Brother isn't watching.  He's singing and dancing.  He's pulling rabbits out of a hat.  Big Brother's busy holding your attention every moment you're awake.  He's making sure you're always distracted.  He's making sure you're fully absorbed.  He's making sure your imagination withers.  Until it's as useful as your appendix.  He's making sure your attention is always filled.  And this being fed, it's worse than being watched.  With the world always filling you, no one has to worry about what's in your mind.  With everyone's imagination atrophied, no one will ever be a threat to the world."

The book is really good, but don't read it if you have just had or are about to have a baby.  SIDS is kind of a character in the book in a way and, well, I picked it up to read again shortly after the wee babe was born and I promptly put it back on the bookshelf.

These are the things I think about when I read the news.  Or when I spend too much time on the internet.

In other news...

I know I call Hamburglar "Fatty," but he's not really fat.  He's just giant.  Well, not really.  Kind of.  He's a big baby.  And he is strong as fuck.  I was thinking about how strong he is during a late night feeding (the same one where I purchased this for the baby) and I came to the conclusion that Chumbercules is kind of like a celebrity in the sense that his primary job is to keep his body in tip top shape or something.  I mean, he spends most of his waking moments doing strength training and conditioning his core.  He doesn't really sit still any more.  Really, he's an inspiration and a reminder that every moment spent awake is a moment that can be used to better yourself.

And I think about that while I watch him exercise and I watch Netflix and eat ice cream.  Or something.

We saw Dr. Soulpatch on Friday.  My favorite baby weighs 19.6 pounds.  We still aren't really feeding him solids, just tastes of stuff, though yesterday I was feeding him some sweet potatoes and he was really into it, then a little while later he spit them up on me.  So that was nice.  At least it encouraged me to bathe us both.

I've been kind of obsessed with Radio Flyer lately and I think for Hamburglar's first birthday I am going to get him this.

Oh!  And the floor is done in the nursery.  I just need to wash the walls now so we can paint them with Killz to seal in all the grossness, then go to Sherwin Williams before the end of the month to get paint before my 30% off coupon expires.  We are going with the Benjamin Moore color Kiwi .  Although, it doesn't look as bright when I view it on a computer monitor.  Hmmm...

Whatever.  I'll post pictures of the nursery if we ever finish it.  I also found this tutorial and now I really want to make an abacus.  But I also really want to sleep and for this teething thing to be over and to have a live-in nanny/housekeeper/chef.

Hamburglar played with Dog Park Girl's baby over the weekend.  And by "played" I mean we put them on a blanket, belly down, near each other and he rolled onto his back and she proceeded to grab his face like a bowling ball.  She has to wear a helmet because the back of her head was super flat and, when Hamby grabbed her helmet, she started crying.  Then he started crying.  It was just a big old tear fest.  It was good, though.  Dude doesn't spend much time around babies and Mr. Adventure says it's good to get him socialized with people his own age or something.

Okay.  That's all.