If you are breastfeeding, your world is suddenly all about boobs. You read breastfeeding books, go to breastfeeding websites, have breastfeeding conversations, buy breastfeeding paraphenalia. Your whole life revolves around what is going on in the mammary department. Especially if you're having difficulties, which I am. Excuse me for being blunt-- blame it on the hormones. (nature's ultimate scapegoat!) Anyway, I can't think about it for one second longer, or I'm going to go crazy. So, in an effort to talk about something else entirely, I bring you a list of things I'd like to do in life before I keel over of boobitus.

1. Travel. I want to see something shockingly old. Pyramids, Greek ruins, a centuries-old abbey... just something that is so ancient that it blows my mind. I want to run my hands over something that has lasted hundreds of years, and will be here long after I am gone.

2. Dance at a ball. A real Cinderella evening-- the castle, the dress, the glitz and glamour, minus the wicked stepmother. And I got the Prince thing covered. The horse-drawn carriage would still be nice, though. And you could throw in a complete spa makeover beforehand, because every Princess needs a pedicure, especially if she's wearing glass slippers. (hey, it's my wish, why limit myself?)

3. Shave my head. Okay, so I probably can't do this one because we already have one bald head in the family and people might think we've joined a cult. But, I still want to do it theoretically. Women are so consumed with outward appearance, especially our hair. I think it would be very liberating to remove that obstacle, to face myself without that protective layer. How much of my confidence stems from physical things? It would be an enlightening experiment. Plus, think of all the money I'd save on hair products. It's economical, and you all know what a sucker I am for a bargain.

4. Hit the trails on horseback. Dusty to be sure, but what fun that would be! I'd like to spend about a week meandering the wilderness with a few friends, sleeping under the stars at night and riding the open fields during the day. Cowboy boots a must, beans straight from the can are not. Ok, so who cares if this little fantasy was inspired by the camp-out scene in The Three Amigos? If a turtle sings about it, I'm sold.

5. Build a beautiful piece of furniture. That requires the aquisition of skill, so I guess I'd have to take a class first. I can live with that. I would love to construct a fine, solid piece to display in my home. Shoot, I could start a home business like that. Everybody wants custom-made furniture. And I just loooove those plastic goggles.

6. Grow a garden. A real, thriving, food producing garden. Row after row of gorgeous plants-- and enough food to feed my family and friends, enough to can and eat in the winter. Farmer's tan included.

7. Act. I did a few plays in highschool and college, and loved everything in a theater production. The camraderie that grows during rehearsals, stepping into a different person and living their life for a few hours, the pounding of your heart on opening night, the sound of laughter and applause from the audience. It's a marvelous feeling, and I'd love to exerpience it once more. Salary is negotiable, but let's face it. Talent costs money, people.

8. Write in seclusion. I attempted this last summer, but wasn't able to make it happen. I want to isolate myself somewhere beachy and sandy and delve into writing uninterrupted. Oh alright, I'd probably interrupt it with a few dips into that crystal clear water a few times, but I promise I'd get lots of work done, too. Seriously. And I'd even keep the margaritas to a minimum.

9. Celebrate a white Christmas. Just once, I'd like to see the white stuff on Christmas Eve. We'd spend Christmas Day with honest-to-goodness Snowmen and sledding and snowball fights. But since I'm about as far south in North America as you can get, this one will require a little motion on my part. If the snow won't come to Muhammed, Muhammed must come to the snow.

10. Take a train trip. This is one I think I'd have to insist was top of the line, though. First class, baby. A private car with great windows, plenty of room, and champagne brunches. We'd roll through the countryside, marking the miles lazily on the map. Nice.

So there you have it. Ten things I would like to do someday, and not a single mention of the hoohas to be found.

(sorry for the slang, ma.)