25 January 2011

Now the Mail Has Me by the Ovaries

Everyone gets them: catalogues to stores you didn't sign up for.  I'm not talking about the generic "Current Resident" circulars, either.  These are the kind of magazines that have your name clearly printed in large block letters as if you took the time to ask for the tree-killing advertisements, and their merchandise parallels items you normally buy.

Occasionally purchase cute cotton panties from Victoria's Secret?  Mysteriously enough, a Frederick's of Hollywood magazine starts showing up in your mailbox.  Tempted by the wares of Crate and Barrel?  Apparently, the discounted Rachel Ray cookware of the Seventh Avenue catalogue is a better deal.  And when you order all of your children's products from…

[insert screeching record here for me, D.J.]

Hold up.  Children's products?  Someone explain to me how the address-nabbing gnomes deduced that I might desire a One Step Ahead catalogue when I don't even have a bun in my oven.  Out of all the goods and chattels that have been left-clicked-and-Fed-Exed to our humble abode, none have been kid-related.  Not the set of matching lamps in our living room...or the oversized German drinking boot we bought for our friend's 30th birthday...or the bikini I ordered for the beach last summer…  It makes me want to hunt down those gnomes, shake them until their pointy hats drop to the ground, and make them aware that when you have less-than-impressive reproductive organs, magazines like this are grossly insensitive.  It's almost worse than the smiling baby on the OPK boxes.

Don't get me wrong.  Friends getting pregnant, women pushing their babies through Target, stories of miraculous births: these things conjure up a smile and sometimes turn me to a ball of emotional goo.  "Accidental" magazines showing up in your mailbox?  That's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the horse's nose.  A carrot that the starving horse has chased for over a year and a half.

With all of that said, don't think I didn't open the magazine of reproductive harassment.  Curiosity usually gets the best of me, and One Step Ahead's cover stated that they made "thoughtfully selected products to help with baby".  I leafed through the glossy pages, making mental note of everything from the must-haves (like baby monitors and car seats) to the that's-so-ridiculous-even-my-future-fetus-would-agree (like the Sno-Baller…Seriously?  Teach your kid to make a dang snowball with his own hands).

All right, moment of ranting is over.  Tomorrow, though, I'm taking up gnome hunting.

PS--My inner hippie was impressed with the storage containers for mommies who make their own baby food.  I can picture it now: picking green beans and carrots from our summer garden, steaming them to mushy perfection, and portioning the concoction into tiny jars.  I can also picture the "L" shape your fingers are gesticulating in front of your foreheads.  :)

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