So.  In the light of the IUD removal, I’m having a bit of, well, feminine spotting.  You know, light.  Just needed a little Lightdays.  All well and good.  Except I don’t wear undies.  Nothing kinky going on, just that I HATE thongs, and I hate the way panties bunch, and the lines, so commando just makes sense.  Until you think that the Lightdays will stay affixed to the crotch of the jeans you are wearing.  And then you’re running through the grocery with your three children, trying to make it home in time to cook the St. Patrick’s Day Irish Stew that must cook four hours, and it’s already after two, and then you feel something odd on tickling downwards on your leg.  And in the next two steps you see your pad on the floor of the grocery store, one step behind you in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle.  And, you’re not the only one in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle.  And you can’t just leave it there.  That would be disgusting.  And a violation of some health code, I’m sure.  You have to stop, in front of people looking oddly at you, and pick up the pad.  And act like it is no big deal.  You routinely drop menstrual pads out the leg of your pants.  Yeah.  No biggie.  What a beautiful memory.

Fortunately, the pad was clean.  That helped a lot.  And oh yeah.  The luck o’ Irish to ye.

Seriously being taken back to gagging over the ginormous vitamins they give you for all that folic acid and iron.  And in the last 5 years, they added this "essential fatty acids" thing.  Where was that for my last 3 babies?  Did they not get something they needed?  Did we not have the understanding of these fatty acids one year, and the next, poof, everyone know you’ve got to be taking fatty acids?  I’m only 35, but it’s making me feel old.  Like I’ve missed half a decade of baby science technological development. 

The strollers are different.  There’s one now called the Bugaboo.  It’s like, 800 bucks.  Without the attachments and what not.  What is that?  $800 could buy you an old reliable car.  Can’t it?  And the patterns for carseats.  Last time I bought one, there were pink ones, blue ones, a denim, and maybe an Eddie Bauer edition.  Now?  Leopard.  Zebra.  Monogrammed.  The selection is endless.  Like all the good stuff came out right after I stopped (I thought) having babies.  The list of necessary equipment seems to be growing exponentially.  But.  Ah ha.  Now I know better.  What do I really need?  A place to let the baby sleep.  A carseat.  Some little clothes and diapers, and boobs.   And I also know I can choose any mobile I may want and I won’t be comprimising the baby’s brain capacity if it isn’t black and white and red and from Baby Einstein.  Or Lamaze.  Are the black and white and red things still considered best for brain development, or is that different, too, now?

And yesterday.  I went to a consignment sale being held to support Meals on Wheels here in my city.  I saw tiny baby clothes.  The newborn sizes.  And it made my heart go mushy.  And my uterus warm.  I really might be able to handle this again.  I hope.