Why I Concern Myself With Frozen Breast Milk

Disclaimer: I totally respect women’s abilities to make their own decisions about their bodies, and I’m not trying to argue that men taking an interest in these issues means that any man should have the final say on any woman’s decision.

With the very real chance of widespread power outages due to Hurricane Irene, a note on Facebook explaining the safety of refreezing breast milk was passed around. I posted it and within a few minutes, a woman asked why I as a man should be so concerned with breast milk.

Multiple reasons with the simplest first.

1. I’m a human being, and I like learning about everything… so that I can be a resource for people who don’t know.

2. Most of my friends are female. And I care about half of the human population.

3. I have a wife who travels a lot. So frozen breastmilk or breast milk sharing (yes, I am familiar, and a proponent) will eventually be a reality for me.

4. Most importantly, I believe every man should know about women’s bodies — form and function. It makes men better fathers, partners, lovers, and friends.
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My Hate-Turned-Love Relationship With Running. Part 2.

Obi100 + Router + Cheap Phone

In Part 1, I described how much I hated running and papayas. And then I told you about how my super-athlete in-laws got me to sign up for an 11 kilometer run:

“[They are] so athletic, in fact, that they took advantage of my newly married, I-don’t-speak-metric, willing-to-do-anything-to-impress-you self, and suggested we all split up into teams and participate in Malaysia’s Powerman competition. This involves each of us finishing either an 11K run, a 64K bike, or 10K run.

Long story short, I’m running my first-ever 11K in a little more than two weeks. In order to prepare for the event, I promptly read dozens of articles on barefoot-running, bought a pair of Vibram FiveFingers, and laid down on the couch. 11 kilometers. That’s 1/2 mile, right?”

Well, I did it. I ran 11 kilometers (6.835 miles) non-stop, with a time of 1 hour and 9 minutes, in ‘barefoot’ shoes’. And it felt like nothing. I actually enjoyed it!

See, I’m the kind of person that lives off of small, happy interactions. In fact, I get so much energy from someone smiling and wishing me a good day that I feel like bouncing around for hours afterwards. That’s exactly what happened during my run. I started waving and smiling at everyone standing on the street watching– the race officials, food vendors, and little kids.

It didn’t feel like work at all, and before I knew it I crossed the finish line way ahead of my competition, my sister-in-law Lin!

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The Noisy People Upstairs

It was our first Eid prayer here at the main mosque here in Blacksburg, Virginia. The mosque itself is set up such that women are on the second level overlooking the men’s space. Of course, throughout the festivities as well as during the Sermon the men could hear the women above enjoying themselves. It was, after all, Eid– a joyous occasion!

“SISTERS!” One of the men yell.

“Sisters please, ” the Imam asks the women to quiet down.

I’d like to say three things. And feel free to post this in your local mosque.

1. If you put women and children in a separate space apart from the men, they are no longer are part of the congregation. Therefore you should not be surprised when they start talking during the sermon.

2. Another reason why women have disengaged from the happenings in the mosque are the things said about women inside the mosque. (E.g. During a sermon: “The majority of the inhabitants in hell are women.”)
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