The Incompetent Housewife: My husband has turned lactivist.

Monday, November 12, 2007

My husband has turned lactivist.

So I was up on a ladder painting the bedroom when my husband and little girls came home from a dad-and-me breakfast put on by the local early childhood agency. The girls were happy to see me. I was happy to see them all. But Bob was the one grinning.

The girls went off to play and he began to unload the contents of his pockets. A toy baby bottle, stolen from the playgroup. By him. Thief.

Another one.

Another.

Lined up in a neat row on the bed.

Six toy baby bottles, removed from circulation, in hopes that one more little child will know breastfeeding to be the norm.

They went in the trash.

And he doesn't even lactate.

1 comment:

Amy Phoenix said...: I would be LOL, except for the fact that I'm up too late with sleeping children near me... You all sound like you have a lot of fun! :o); May 21, 2008 at 3:09 AM

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You know you're a homeschooler when:

yet another person asks how you do it all, and you think about the mountain of laundry and unintentionally green things in the fridge.
you figure the kindergarten teacher will teach your shoelace-troubled child how to finally tie shoes, then realize, "Wait! I AM the kindergarten teacher."
the internet repair worker walks into your living room and announces, "Oh, you run a daycare." You don't.
when your child is teased that there are poisonous snakes in the hole she fell into, her calm response is, "That can't be. There are no poisonous snakes in our state."
your 6-year-old hears you discussing something involving numbers and wants to know, "How would that look in a pie chart?"
you hear loud crying, so you rush to the front yard to find your 3-year-old has fallen off the porch bottom-first into the bushes. Turns out she is not concerned about the pain. She cries, "I knocked the honey out and how the bees can't come!" (She thinks she has knocked all the pollen off the bushes.)
your 5-year-old says she heated up her silly putty and you fear she put it in the microwave. When you ask how she heated it, she replies, "Well, just with my carbon dioxide." She means she breathed on it.
your daughter sees a piece of art you painted before she was born. Her first question is, "And how did you FEEL while you were painting it?"
your husband is curious why the Unifix cube are all over the floor—again—and you tell him you were playing a math game. Your daughter says no, it was just a game, not math, and insists, "We didn't ‘do school’ today.” Yes, honey, that’s exactly the point.
where others see an empty oatmeal box, you see a project waiting to happen.
you can't cut into a piece of fruit in your house without the kids examining the seeds and begging, "Can we plant them?!? Can we?"
there are tadpoles swimming on your kitchen counter, right there between the cutting board and the coffeemaker.
said tadpoles are in a glass bowl from your china cabinet.
over by the china cabinet are butterfly chrysalises you don't want to throw out because they're just so cool.
your child expresses interest in going to the public school. Your muscles tense as you carefully ask what interests her about traditional school (Are you ruining her life by keeping her home?), then relax as she tells you, "I just want to know what it's like to ride a school bus."
you shout, "Ewww!" because you find a half-eaten bird in the garage. Your daughter scolds you by saying, "Not ewww ... Cool!"
your daughter is supposed to be changing into her pajamas, but instead she stands in front of the mirror with her t-shirt hanging off her head because, "I look like one of the kings of Egypt."
your daughter is looking for a way to light the back of the closet and says, "Mom, do you know where a flashlight is, or should we make one?"
your daughter drapes a towel over her head after her shower and asks, "Hey, do I look like an Israelite?"