It looks like an in-house brand that targets stores owned by Safeway -Randall’s, Carr’s, Dominicks, Vons, Genuardi’s, et al. Anywho, after purchasing groceries, and with one child barely under control, I still stopped by the managers office to tell him what I thought.

“I find the ads offensive,” I said. “I don’t like being told by my grocery store – which has no right to dictate my family job roles – told by my grocery store that baby diapers and wipes are for my wife, not for me. Actually, it makes me mad as hell.” He thanked me and I left, but can’t really stop thinking about it. For a few other reasons, too.

I’ve heard some great conversations going on about what we should be using and putting in our bodies. Organic produce, rBSTs, etc. The same is true of child care and chemicals et al in some products. Suddenly I find that Safeway/Mom to Mom is excluding me from that conversation. Made by moms, for moms. Don’t bother asking 50% of the responsible party.

Look, I can appreciate that Mom to Mom wants to celebrate (& monetize) the special connection mothers have within families, often as the primary caregiver. But it’s inappropriate. We should, all of us, be celebrating the family that comes together in sacrifice and service to each other when we have children. When something becomes exclusive to the mom, it takes responsibility with it, squarely on the moms shoulders. Aside from implying a bigger workload for mothers, it excludes dads from the conversation, which tells the child they have reason to doubt both parents can confidently raise her.

“70% of all internet pornography viewing is done between the hours of 9AM and 5PM.”
–Sextracker.com

Then, an employee brings in a home computer. “My child has been looking at porn. Can you help me track the activities?” Sure, during lunch breaks. Then — “How do I look at browser history? I think my boyfriend has been looking at porn. LOTS of porn.” I wonder if that has anything to do with the darkening skies, rain, etc driving people back inside.

The interesting thing here is that’s the conflict isn’t stemming from looking at naked people. It’s from secrets. In both cases, people are hurt that those who view aren’t open about it.

We’re supposed to be enlightened in America, right? Porn 50 years ago seems like National Geographic photo essays on naked natives. Or the chunky pulp stuff which gradually gave way to Betty Page, the golden age of pinups. But today, we have events celebrating the artistic side of porn. We have Gina Lynn’s column at Wired (yes, I read it), Sex Drive. We have Dan Savage, columnist for the Stranger, who is so over the top I feel queasy when I read him. We have researchers showing monkey porn to male monkeys (I couldn’t make this up). We have the very people in my office that came to me for help saying “… and I understand being curious, and wanting to see it …” They’re stressing their understanding side.

It would be so unhip to condemn porn.

In both of the above cases, the person worried tried to separate the action (viewing porn) from the trespass (keeping a secret / lying). I was pulled in initially for my technical skills in sussing out the porn, but gave advice anyway.

I don’t think you can keep these things separate, because the action is what drives the trespass. If someone wasn’t confused about what role porn should play in their life, they hide it. They don’t feel confident with seeing it, and so their insecurity compells them to hide.

It’s funny, because the thing that would clear this up is confrontation. But when you’re hiding something, you figure out how to do it well. A constant focus on clearing the web browser history, or hiding your magazines, or whatever else you’re insecure about. I say funny because the root of the issue is there, and it’s being ignored by the focus on hiding. A hider isn’t working on that root, only on hiding.

Until somebody gets wise and it’s knock, knock, we need to talk.

What some of you plain blood folks may not know is that we get special calls.

“Is this Ralph Hogaboom?”
“Yes.”
“Hi Ralph, I’m Denise and I’m calling from the Puget Sound Blood Center. How are you today?”
“I’m good.”
“I’m so happy to hear that!”
“Thanks!”
“You’re in Port Townsend, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s the weather up there today? I heard you guys are in a rain shadow…”
“Oh, it’s balmy here Denise.”
“Lucky!”
“Yeah.”

Eventually we get ’round to scheduling a time for me to come in. See, when your blood is as valuable as mine, they respect your time a little more.

They also do reminder phone calls, ’cause they want my blood.

They’re also unfailingly nice at the blood center. They know I’m different than others because the check-in lady says “And here’s someone else for you … he has a 10 AM appt.”

That’s code for “He has an appointment, that means he has valuable blood. Treat this one well.”

I don’t love getting treated this way. It’s more accurate to say I looooooooooooooove being treated this way. I’m over a half gallon for the last 12 months; when I hit a gallon of blood donated, I get a new pin! I’m pretty excited.

There’s nothing wrong with hospitals. They’re functional places to have a baby. But a woman’s body was designed to give birth. Unless there are uncommon circumstances with the woman’s health, she has the potential to give birth. Furthermore, I’m a believer that interventions like (here goes my spelling problem) pitocin, epidural / intrathecal, etc often interfere with the birth. They also lead to cesarian deliveries.

Cesarian deliveries are major abdominal surgery.

If there’s a problem that requires medical intervention, we’ll go to the hospital, simple as that. Childbirth isn’t a medical problem, it’s the Lord loaning us his ability to create. If it’s normal for a woman’s body to give birth, then let’s put the control back into the woman’s body. Like any normal body function, if something goes wrong, we’ll see a doctor. Until otherwise, we’ll know that normal delivery*, i.e. home birth, is okay.

In 95% of woman, a vaginal birth is possible. Why does the US have a 27% rate of cesarian? Interventions are part of it. A bigger part is that we don’t really help woman to have a baby.

To put it another way, home birth means taking more responsibility. Kelly’s not just going to get knocked out by some drugs and have the baby surgically removed. She’s educating herself, learning techniques to cope with pain au naturale, and excersizing. She’s making sure that her muscles and body are going to be in a good position when the time comes. We’ve interviewed and found our midwife team, and our doula. We’re preparing in ways we didn’t even think of with our first kid.

Back to the US not helping women have babies. I think about my perception of childbirth before Sophie, and I really knew nothing. It was an eye-opener to see how it’s done. In retrospect, it makes sense to me that there would be a passing of the knowledge, what to expect, like how memes are passed down. Not quite mentor/apprentice style, but serving a similar function. I’m continually surprised I don’t see this.

* I refer to normal birth, not typical birth. In the US, a typical birth is in the hospital. That doesn’t make it normal.