The Baby Bump That Lasts Forever.

I recently learned that one of my dearest friends in the world is preggers, prompting a visit to thebump.com in search of a cute, and hopefully useful, Yay for You! gift. This is where I got stuck:

Anyone I know who's pregnant, trying to get pregnant, or even thinking about getting pregnant: Have I got the perfect arts and crafts project for you.

From the product description:

"You may not be pregnant only one time, but you will only be pregnant with this baby one time. (Dang, I thought you could just shove them back in if you wanted to relive a particular pregnancy. Maybe that's why kangaroos have that pouch.) This belly casting art kit is a fine (Only fine? I'd like to see what they consider "great.") way to remember how your belly felt and looked during your gestation period. The kit comes easy to use and non-toxic. (Thank goodness, I was afraid you were expecting people to slather their baby bumps with all kinds of toxic goo.) It comes with 5 rolls of plaster tape, belly casting lubricant, a plastic drop cloth, (And while it's setting you can paint the nursery!) non-latex gloves and a sanding screen for finishing. After it's formed it's so easy to decorate! (As if that belly cast isn't gorgeous enough on its own.)"

As my friend Jill would say, So many questions.

1. Why is this in the Nursery Decor section of the shop? Would someone really make a cast of their belly and hang it on the wall for their baby to gaze at dreamily? I guess since it's "so easy to decorate" you could add paint (and sparkles and feathers if you're so inclined) and make it match your nursery's decor. But does your baby really need to be reminded of a place they won't remember? Wouldn't it kind of freak people out when they went into the nursery? Like, Hey, nice to see you father-in-law! Oh, that? That's just a cast of my pregnant torso. Man, my boobs looked great then, don't you think?

2. Why the boobs? I mean, if I had to guess I'd say it's because if you just did the belly people might not know what it is hanging on the wall, but I also don't know tons of women who just want to hang a cast of their boobs up for all to see.

3. Speaking of the decorating, why? Granted, no one wants to see themselves looking all grey and cakey, but how could you really decorate your belly cast so that it was more decorative and less awkward? If you paint it all pink and white and flowery for a little girl's room, it might make them think being pregnant is all sunshine and rainbows and bunnies, and we certainly wouldn't want to mislead them. If you paint it with some kind of little all-star theme for a boy's room, well, why don't you just send them to Hooters? And if you paint it to look real, well, you just sailed right on past awkward to creepy.

4. Let's assume you aren't going to hang it in the nursery, or that your baby has reached the age where having a cast of their mother's torso while they were "gestating" is no longer appropriate. What do you do with it? It's not likely to be just the conversation piece you were missing to complete your living room. Probably not the most romantic thing to have hanging in your bedroom. Nude art doesn't really go in the kitchen or dining room. The bathroom? You do get naked in there. But it would have to be the master bath, because having guests stuck looking at that while they pee might make for some uncomfortable moments at your next dinner party. It would also have to be a big bathroom, because your belly cast is going to protrude from the wall a little more than standard artwork. I don't know if I'd want to be constantly bumping into myself. I run into door jambs and walls enough already, it would suck to knock myself (and baby!) off the wall. What if I broke my belly cast? It would be like breaking my baby in my belly. Not sure if I could live with that. I guess you could put it in storage, but I think it would be rather cumbersome and fragile, just like some pregnant women.

5. I question the whole "easy to use" part. Sure, the model cast they show looks super adorable, just how a baby bump should look. But I have a feeling that plaster tape + DIY body molding + pregnant lady = bumpy (and not in a good way), lumpy, not-cute baby-belly keepsake.

Of course, there are no product reviews, and none of these questions can be answered until someone actually tries this out. I have a feeling I'm going to be purchasing this in the near future. Friend, I apologize in advance.

Book (Cover) Review - Love, Lust and Faking It

I recently came across this gem while browsing celebrity gossip:

I have a few problems with this book cover. (I should clarify here that I have no real problem with Jenny McCarthy. Given the fact that she became famous in the first place for being a hot blond with awesome boobs, she's at least done stuff to somewhat maintain a career as an actress, plus she's used her celebrity to advance autism awareness, which is truly admirable. And I haven't read the book, which apparently has some decent reviews. The source of my rant is truly the book cover.)

First and foremost among my hangups is that Jenny McCarthy is identified as a New York Times best-selling author. I know she earned that accolade with the books she wrote about babies and autism and she's very dedicated to her cause. But seriously. I mean, she started out as a Playboy model and then got her big break with Singled Out. She starred in movies like Wieners and Dirty Love.* I also know many questionable titles, among them Sarah Palin's Going Rogue, have ended up on that list, which is really just a measure of sales and has nothing to do with literary or cultural merit. And yet it bothers me that this book cover (accurately) identifies its author in the same company as writers like Norman Mailer, Boris Pasternak, Salman Rushdie, John Irving, David Sedaris and numerous other authors I adore.

My second problem with this book cover is that it's just weird. The artwork is very Danielle-Steele-meets-Gothic-fantasy-with-a-modern-twist. Sunset on a jetty? Are your boobs obvious enough? Is he muscle-y enough? Did he just rescue you from the surf or is he about to whisk you away to that lighthouse? And there must be something pretty amazing on that cell phone you're distracted by to keep you from devoting all your attention to the serious smolder that guy is trying to rock.

Except for my third, and honestly biggest, problem with this book cover. Smoldering Steve there has a MULLET. A CURLY MULLET. That was honestly the first thing that caught my eye. Really Jenny McCarthy? And Jenny McCarthy's editor? And the art department at Harper Collins? I mean, if you wanted to emphasize the "faking it" part, put a picture of Jenny and Jim Carrey on the cover, because I'm guessing there was some faking it happening there. But to take what would otherwise be a solid artist's rendering of a hot guy and topping him off with a curly mullet just confuses me. And leads me to believe that whoever you're connecting with on that cell phone doesn't have a mullet, which means you will be leaving Smoldering Steve for Mullet-free Matt, and the whole sunset-on-a-jetty-before-hot-sex-in-a-lighthouse thing is just a tease. It gets even more confusing when you realize that the first chapter of her book describes how her mom reconnected with her high school love after divorcing Jenny's dad. Which is a sweet, heartwarming story that has little to do with giant boobs and sunset and lighthouses. So your bookcover is misleading. And you should be warned that cat-ladies everywhere are going to be disappointed when there is no mention of that gleaming mullet ravishing you in that lighthouse.

*You really should check out this review. Consider it my Christmas gift to you. And you're welcome.

Then again, grown-ups these days...

A friend and I were sitting in the library at the law school, chatting about very important things, such as my upcoming phone interview and the male tendency to try to problem-solve when you really just need a good listener. We were up on the fifth floor, and for those of you unfamiliar with our law library, we were in the spot where sofas and chairs go to die. You know the spot, lots of old, comfy sofas and chairs, broken in by years of law student napping, right outside a row of faculty offices where there is always commotion of the odd law school variety.

So there we are, each in a great big chair, our laptops and books out so we at lease look like studying is our primary purpose for being there, but clearly enjoying conversation of the non-law variety, and a girl sits down on one of the nearby sofas. (It should be noted here that I use the term "girl" loosely. This female was clearly in her thirties, possibly her forties, and yes, I believe her age is relevant considering what transpired.) As we sat there chatting, admittedly perhaps louder, at times, than is normally acceptable for library conversation, she would occasionally heave a huge sigh and glare over at us. This continued for probably about half an hour while we chatted about, as I mentioned above, very important things.

Finally, said "girl" slams her book shut, hurls it onto the sofa, yanks up her bag, flings it onto her back and stomps off, muttering something about talking and a f*&$ing coffee shop. She stomps down the corridor of faculty offices, throwing murderous glares our way, and saying something about annoying girls. During this entire display, my friend and I managed to shut our traps and watch in awe as the hissy fit unfolded. Poor girl, if she's known all she had to do to get us to shut us was throw a tantrum she probably would have done so much sooner.

So what is my point in telling this story? Well, there are a few:

1. I would like to point out, in defense of my friend and I (and in case there happen to be any readers thinking that we were failing to observe proper library etiquette) that the area we were sitting in is known to be a non-silent, for lack of a better term, study area. As I mentioned, there are many faculty offices, along with their assistants' offices, and faculty and students are constantly wandering through the area, talking and calling to one another. There actually used to be a sign there, before they remodeled the library, warning students not to expect silence there. Maybe I should make a new one...

2. As mentioned above, this "girl" was really more of a middle-aged woman. Judging by the sheer impressiveness of her hissy, perhaps she has spent too much time around a middle-school daughter. It was great, books slamming, things thrown, eyes rolling, huge disgusted sighs. I don't know if I was that good at the height of my intolerable teen-ager years. The woman should win an award. That being said, my friend and I were both left wondering why she didn't try the more adult route, as one may assume befits a professional student. A simple, "Hey, would you guys mind keeping it down just a little, I'm trying to get some reading done," would have worked wonders. I mean, I'd like to think we aren't total bitches. Sure, I could have said, in my best Mean-Girls-impression tone, "Ummm, if you have a problem with us, you can go to a study carrel or a table. We were here first." But I probably wouldn't have. We're all adults, let's act like it and leave the passive-agressive eye-rolling and muttering under our breath the the fourteen-year-olds.

3. This girl wasn't a 3L. If she's a 2L, she should have figured out by now that in that particular area of the library people are going to talk. If you need silence, go to the reading room, or to another part of the library where comfy furniture doesn't abound. Everyone knows overstuffed furniture invites not only napping but casual conversation. On the other hand, if she's a 1L, then perhaps she should seriously reconsider law school. This was only the first full week of classes. If you are already that stressed out about two people (who, might I remind you, were sitting there talking long before you sat your grumpy ass down) cutting into your silence, it's going to be a loooong three years. Law school is bad enough without stressing yourself out over stupid things like two annoying chatty cathys in the library. Learn to pick your battles, honey, because you will find yourself engaged in worse than that.

Kids these days...

So I have been meaning to share this story for a while, and find that now it gives me a reason to put off studying for a short time.

During my brief and (and surprisingly miserable) stint at Target this summer, one evening I was stocking some merchandise in the infant section. As there were some larger items, all the stuff was loaded onto this large cart, really a 3' x 5' piece of plywood on wheels with a big handle. There I am stocking away, and I go back to the main aisle where the cart is (b/c it's much too cumbersome to push down each individual aisle) and...no cart. Then I see the cart flying down the aisle with a little girl, probably 5 or 6, half pushing-half riding along. I chase it down and we come to a stop about 30 feet away from where the cart originally was, with the little girl's mom following behind. I wanted to tell the little girl that the cart wasn't a toy and that she could have gotten hurt or hurt someone else, but her mom was right there, so I decided to leave the parenting to the parent. The mom pulls the girl off the cart and says to her, "You shouldn't have done that! You could have got hurt!"

Good for you, mom, I'm thinking. However, that thought lasted about 2 seconds, because the mom immediately turns to me and says, "But you did just leave it there. So it's not really her fault that she hopped on it."

I stood there at a loss for words. (Well, to be perfectly honest, plenty of words came to mind, but any combination of them would quite possibly have gotten me immediately fired, so in my mind they remained.) She then walked off, offspring in tow, as I continued to stand there, with what I am pretty sure was a look of utter annoyance.

Now, let's be clear. My annoyance was initially directed at the girl. She was certainly old enough to know that she probably shouldn't go joy-riding through the aisle on any large wheeled object that happened to sit low enough for her to hop on to. But then my annoyance switched to (and remained with) the mother. My unsaid thoughts went something like this:

Really? I shouldn't have left it there? Aside from the fact that I am supposed to leave it there, and that people would be pissed if I tried to maneuver that thing down the baby food aisle as they shopped, I don't see how the mere presence of the cart caused your daughter to careen through the store on it. So because I left the cart there, your daughter automatically loses all self-control and, more importantly, you lose all parental control? You haven't taught your daughter what is and isn't acceptable shopping behavior and that's my fault?

Let's follow this logic down the (admittedly) slippery path it may follow:

Hmm, honey, that isn't your bike. What's that? Susie just left it in her yard? Well, in that case I completely understand why you thought you could take it for a ride. Wear a helmet dear.

Oh my, you took my car and rear-ended a little old lady? You're only 14! What's that? I left the car in the drive and the keys on the counter? Silly me, I should have known it would be too tempting for you to avoid driving it. We should send that old lady flowers.

Honey, where'd you get the iPod? Oh, someone left it on their desk in class while they went to the bathroom? Well, that was just careless of them. What? Oh, you need an iTunes account. Of course, just get the credit card out of my purse, but be sure you put it back this time, your last shopping trip almost maxed it out.

I know, I know, this parade of horribles, to finally use a law school idea in real life, is a bit extreme, but what happened to parents teaching their kids what is and isn't acceptable behavior? My mom would have apologized profusely and then lectured me until we got home about how lucky I was I didn't get hurt and that I should just be thankful I didn't run into anyone else and hurt them and that I better not ever do anything like that again because while we'll just keep it between us this time, if I ever pull a stunt like that again, young lady, your father will hear about it, and then you KNOW what will happen.

I get it, we all want kids to be kids. Kids should have fun. But kids should also know that they can't just take a ride on any wheeled object that crosses their path. And parents should keep an eye on their kids and not laugh off things that should be opportunities to teach their kids what is unacceptable behavior.

I could go on and on about kids not respecting their parents and how some people shouldn't even be allowed to have the responsibility of raising kids, but I won't. Mainly because I am sure I will soon have an illustrative encounter which will make those points for me. All in good time...