Ok, it's been enough months now that I think I can get off my ass and start doing this again. Usually the reason I stop writing is because life gives me something metaphorically shiny that distracts me, and in this case the shiny object is my daughter. Which brings me to the title of this entry.
Know what pisses me off? Movie stars (or anyone) having babies and treating them as accessories. My latest pizz is the Jolie-Pitts, because GOD KNOWS they needed another frigging kid to tote around when their own child is only almost a year old. I know they have the money. That's what pisses me off. Having scads of children (or worse, just one) because you have the money for a frigging nanny. An ex-boss of mine got her comeuppance when she squirted out twin daughters with a nanny waiting in the wings, and one child had a birth defect that required she take time off from work anyway to trot said infant to NYC because by all that's holy we certainly don't have any good doctors in the City of Medicine that's located in the adjoining county.
I secretly suspect that the only reason women aren't purchasing oversized diaper bags and toting their infants around in them like chihuahuas is because of that pesky bit where infants can't support their own heads. I also suspect that someone is attempting to invent a harness for the interior of diaper bags which will allow the above to actually happen.
In fact, the reason I resisted "wearing" my daughter while out in public for so long was because I had seen so many granola-bar women doing this and my first thought was always of Ms Hilton and her ratdog. It pains me to say that Livvie loves being worn when we're out shopping, but that was before she discovered the joy of the shopping cart seat.
As far as accessorizing, the fact that I suck at being a girl was driven home this afternoon when I put actual clothing on Livvie. It's an outfit that Rich's mom sent her, and I figured she should wear it at least once. It's black velvet pants and a red peplum shirt with a scotty dog on it. It has black velvet cuffs and collar. And I was wearing....Levi's, a faded brown t-shirt, and 3 year old Tevas. And I left my child barefoot. Screw you, Church Ladies. And you know the type I mean. Nasty old biddies can't mind their own beeswax.....