Bad Decisions and a Pumice Stone

Have you ever heard of the old advice that you should toughen your nipples in preparation for breastfeeding?
I have.
And from about 15 different breastfeeding moms.
Most say you can just use a washcloth to rub your nips.

I wash my boobs everyday so I wasn't convinced that using a washcloth would help me achieve the tough nipples I was hoping for.

So.... I was showering and spotted my pumice stone on the shelf. It was new so I figured it would be perfect for nipple toughening.

Bad decision. amen.

Fine Cuisine

Growing up in the Barlocker home provided lessons in culture and refinement. This resulted in the buttloads of class we all exhibit today.

The fine arts were explored through ample Mormon-theme paintings from Seagull Book and Tape hung around the house. Also, for our viewing pleasure, were numerous paintings by the king of mass production and "painter of light", Thomas Kincade.

Literature was available in the form of the 1992 Encyclopedia. Even though this was only used to look up sexual intercourse, penis and vagina, the mere presence of the collection on our bookshelves was testament to our neighbors how cultured we were. We also had boxes of National Geographic magazines. Once again we only used them to gawk at the orangutan tits on the tribeswoman from the Amazon.

Fine cuisine was an everyday occurrence. As we dined as a family every night we were served only the most cultured food.

Among the best was the poop dog:

Made with a hot dog sliced down the middle lengthwise, fake mashed potatoes plopped in between the folds and ample amounts of yellow cheese sprinkled over the top.

These are then customarily served on Styrofoam plates.

My mom busted this centuries old recipe out on our last trip to Utah. Jared offered to help cook. After my mom instructed him how to create this masterpiece, Jared came to talk to me.

With a serious demeanor he asked me if I had ever heard of the poop dogs. He thought it was a joke. I told him poop dogs are serious as a heart attack.

And then we partook. amen.

The Puberty Game

At the Boys and Girls club, apart from being the best kindergarten and 1st grade after school program teacher, I am in charge of the SMART GIRLS program.

I was assigned this position specifically because I can say "penis" in front of large groups of kids. Really. The other candidates would only commit to saying "pee-pee".

SMART GIRLS is fundamentally centered around maturation, rape, abuse, drugs and how to choose good friends. Oh yeah, with a little bit of self-esteem thrown in for good measure. I have a teacher's lesson manual to provide guidance.

A few weeks ago the 4th and 5th grade girls and I embarked on Lesson #1: The Puberty Game.

First I had to hand out a printout that looked like this:

The girls had to name and draw arrows to the things that happen to your body during puberty. They got a point for each correct identification.

Then we had a discussion about it.... It went as you would expect:

Me: What happens during puberty?

Girls:
-pubes
-your chi chi's get bigger if youre lucky
-that thing where blood comes out of your thingy
-B.O.
-special feelings about boys
-you grow a mustache
-you have to talk about sex at the boys and girls club
-you might get a baby in your stomach

I explained that babies don't automatically get into your body, you have to try to put them there.
They asked where you got little babies and how to put them in.
I told them that you have to have sex.

Also, at the beginning of the class I told them that if they had any questions they didn't want to ask out loud, they could write them down and I would answer them at the end. The questions all looked like this:



I bluntly told them.

Then the entire class stared at me and pregnant stomach like I was the biggest slut ever.
amen.

Battle Royale

Final Showdown!

My 8 months pregnant belly button V. My cat's butthole





Notice, if you will, the uncanny resemblance.

Which is grosser? I cannot decide.

Poor Chucky. He only scratched me twice when I pinned him down and took the picture. He was mad at me for like, 2 hours afterwards. I felt like a molester.
At least now I can scratch "take close up picture of something's butt" off of my life's to do list.