Latest Con(s)ver(v)sation

Hubby and I have had many conversations over the years over plastics, recycling, organic vs. non-organic, and our latest is "where does the liquid go?" It really bothers hubby that we could be putting liquid-filled containers in landfills and it doesn't biodegrade for years, and then where does it go? Part of the reason I started cloth diapering was because of learning that our environment was a better place if it wasn't filled with bags and bags of soiled paper diapers; but, I never considered that "expired salad dressing bottle" that I just tossed unopened. But, now I am thinking along the same lines...where on earth does the liquid go that can't escape its plastic or glass prison?

Last night hubby admitted to me that he was getting a little obsessed with making sure all the liquid was out of things he threw away. And, it isn't just liquid, it is food...such as, where does the food go that is vaccumed packed and never opened? It kind of cracks me up how upset it makes hubby because I have never seen him this perplexed over something that wasn't on my list of consideration. I actually thought it was funny that he was so upset about liquid...But, now that it has been brought to my attention, I think I need to give it some attention. When I think about it, where does it go? And, once it goes there how long does it stay there? And, once stays there if you open it can you still use it? Won't it evaporate? These are all questions I want to do a bit more research on to find out exactly how liquid breaks down in the landfills.

I try my best in my little world to recycle, reuse and give-away, but now I also do my part to rinse, empty and drain all liquid before I recycle or toss a bottle, bag, or container.


And, there must be something in the air because Mommy Heather recently brought up her concern over plastics. Hubby used to get on me all the time for heating plastic in the microwave, even if it said microwave safe. I remember him yelling at me because I heated up P's babyfood in the little plastic container. He asked me to toss it because "we just don't know what the baby is eating if that plastic gets in her food." We have been eating half steamed broccoli for ages because I just throw it in a bowl with some water with no cover (I'm lazy) - because that was another reprimand. "What are you doing? You can't cover that food with plastic to steam it? We don't know what is getting into our food." Oops I did it again! But, now that Heather brought up the whole notion about serving food to baby on those cute little plates you get at Target and how horrible it *could* be makes me want to think about not only not microwaving plastics, but not even serving hot food on plastics. I generally only serve on my glass dishes, but am considering buying something more natural that can't be broken when it is hurled across my kitchen.

bubbies is 8 months old!

bubbies turned 8 months old today! The things he has accomplished so far have been incredible. I just can't believe the things babies do and learn in such a short amount of time. It is like they sleep for 3 months and then come *alive*. I sat down with P and we "discussed" the things we are seeing bubbies do and our favorite things about him. This is what we came up with:

-he smiles all the time. Hubby made a comment that he'd be a great baby model because he'll offer up a smile with little effort on an adult's part.

-he almost has the whole crawling thing down.

-he is learning to sit from a laying down position. I actually observed this at Bookingham Forest today at the library.

-he talks back...and I mean literally. if I get cross with him when he bites me he jibber jabbers back as if he is saying "well, I didn't mean to hurt you...I am learning here, lady!"

-he has two teeth on the bottom and two on top that are almost all the way in.

Then there are the things that kind of drive me nuts:

-he bites, scratches and pinches. Sometimes it is no fun to hold him and nursing him can be a real challenge.
-he is super squirmy which makes diaper changes and getting him dressed a real challenge.
-he still hates to sleep. He is up at least 3 times a night....still. It makes for a cranky, crunchy, mean mommy much of the time lately.

Missing the water.

Gear: wicking shirt/shorts, bathing suit, hat, glasses, life vest, lotsa sunscreen and H2O

I have always had a love for water, mainly because I grew up on the Scioto River. I was so lucky to have spent my summers swimming, rafting, sail boating, water skiing and winters were for ice-skating. I never knew how lucky I was until I realized that there weren't many people who had a river directly behind their house with a dock to perch on to sunbathe, read books or just play on. My husband grew up in Rhode Island with the ocean mere minutes from his house and a river across the street. He was always playing near or in the water with his friends. We both miss the water, and feel like our kids are kind of missing out since all they have is dirt and grass. Of course, did I appreciate when I was young? No, just kind of thought everyone went clam gathering or fishing right off their backyard docks; but, now I realize I was fortunate, and maybe one day will make the move back to living on the water. We'll see.

Anyhow, I received an email from hubby with pictures from their recent Manly Weekend. This year the guys went white water rafting, which so happens to be something I love. Now, I am not a class 5 kind of gal, but I have been known to get giddy over some crazy rapids. Hubby and I spent our honeymoon on the water. We rafted down the Rogue River for 7 days/6 nights completely away from all civilization...except for the people with us. Luckily, our rafting guide had a satellite phone for any emergencies...like water injuries or bear attacks. I didn't know how intense this trip was going to be until I signed a contract that said the company wouldn't be sued if I died. Yes folks, signed my life away for my honeymoon....well, signed my life away in front a congregation full of onlookers....but I guess hubby was worth it. haha!

Back to the river. It was one of the most amazing trips I had ever taken. Seriously, I didn't think I could ever top it, except when we went again down the Colorado in the Grand Canyon. Both river trips we went with a company called Oars. They make it easy to do the 40 mile trek down river and camping each night. You have to be okay with being wet, hot, cold, dirty, and most of all, pooping in a pickle bucket hoping someone doesn't come sailing down the water while you are wiping your butt. Oh yes - that is certainly part of the trip you have to get used to. Peeing in the river and not worrying that EVERYone knows you are peeing. It really is no big deal...I mean, read the book Everybody Poops...cuz' we all do. :)

Oh - I meant ammo can for poo and pickle bucket for pee.

Being part of nature without all the commotion of cars, cell phones, computers and society is truly spectacular. I was never once afraid. I was never once wishing I was in Greece. I was never once wishing for a bed. I was only wishing that I could remember nature as God intended it to be: beautiful, surreal, breathtaking, inspiring, loving and harsh, and magnificent. Every day you rafted down river X number of miles and at the end of the day you set up camp in a spot off the side the river. You had all of your stuff in wet bags and the company provided the tents for you. Everything was carried in the rafts we took down the Rogue and in dories we took down the Colorado. Each boat has its own river guide and you can choose who you want to row you down each day. River guides are very interesting people. They are pretty much all conservationists, environmentalists, organic and against "big" businesses/corporations. For instance, you probably won't see a river guide drinking Starbucks. At least not the guides I have rafted with...:)

Our camp on the river's edge. Tell me I'm pretty!

Each trip I took one snapshot in my mind that I remember as clearly as if it happened yesterday. The Rogue trip my memory is of the last dinner we had on the river. We were sitting on the water's edge in comfy camping chairs eating spaghetti and drinking wine, when all of the sudden a big black bear came running down the mountain. It was on the other side of the river from us, luckily! It jumped in the water and grabbed a humongo salmon out of the water and ran back up and sat on the side of the mountain and had its dinner with us. While in the middle of its fresh sushi meal, another black bear came down and swiped the fish from his buddy. It was AMAZING to be the close to a wild animal. Especially one as dangerous as a black bear. BUT, keep in mind, black bears are pretty easy to scare away. A little spoon on a pot or pan action will drive the bear from your camp, generally.

The Colorado was a bit more recent and I have lots of memories of that trip, but in particular I remember the night I "slept out." I slept on the ground by the waters edge with no tent, just my sleeping bag. Thankfully hubby made me do it because I had never seen such an amazing sky in all my life. Looking at the shadow of the canyon stretching across the night's shade and seeing the black sky filled with shiny stars was so breathtaking. I was also proud of myself for overcoming my fear of having to be in a tent...and of scorpions.

I hiked up the canyon and this is our camp from above. You can see the boats lined up on the bank.

Everyone Knows It's Windy

Almost 300,000 homes are still without power. Yesterday afternoon/evening here in the heart of it all, the winds reached up to 74 mph. I believe it! It was really scary for hours. We just kept seeing wind gusts dragging branches, limbs and leaves all over the place. I was taking a nap when it started...first nap in AGES and I couldn't sleep because the wind was pounding the house and falling branches were making me nervous. Hubby said he didn't come get me because he felt if God was ready for me a big limb would fall into the bedroom...real nice. Well, unfortunately for him I survived and no trees came crashing into our home. Our neighbors weren't so fortunate. They have two enormous pine trees, well did have two enormous pine trees, in their front yard. The trees toppled over like limp spaghetti on their van - blew out the windshield and two side windows. I believe the vehicle will be totaled out because of the damage. We, luckily, had no major damage done to the house or our cars. Just lots of debris to clean up today.

P and I just came in from picking up branches, sticks and raking up leaves and twigs. What a mess. So the neighbors to the left lost their van and then the neighbors to the right had their fence fall down. Part of the fence is currently in our side yard making it possible for the dogs to get loose. We will have to discuss repairing the fence with our neighbor because we share it with them. I feel so bad for them because during the windstorm their son was getting married, and the father of the groom had to rent a generator to keep the reception going. You can't stop Mother Nature...maybe she was jealous. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. ha!

Big branch in the front yard

Pine trees that took out our neighbor's van

Uprooted tree

Fallen limb

P helping mommy clean up the branches
Hard work finished!

No more rocking?!

Bedtime ritual has certainly evolved for Peyton since she was born. I can't believe that I am at a point where she doesn't want me to rock her any longer. She just wants me to put her down and lay my head on her bed until she falls asleep. I am so sad. Sitting there in that rocker with her when we struggled to nurse when she was born, sitting in that rocker just so I could hold her and watch her sleep, sitting in that rocker singing, listening to music, and sitting her in the rocker because I thought it was cute someone so little could sit in a big rocker like that. She reminded me of Edith Ann. haha! I am so sad. I definitely am not the best candidate for a mother because I HATE good-byes, I am extremely nostalgic and don't always deal well with change. And, all of those things are happening before my eyes every day.

We had a financial adviser come to the house Saturday morning from Edward Jones. She was helping hubby and I roll our 401k's from previous employers into IRAs, other investments, but the main reason she was there was to set up a 529 for the kids' college fund. I started a savings account for P when she was born, but it is just a basic rainy day savings that I figure will help when she wants to buy a car or her prom dress or what have you. Since bubbies was born I have to up that amount so I am saving for the both of them. But, college? Yes, we should have started saving when we even thought about having children because when they are ready to go to college the tuition is going to be astronimical. Our financial advisor was telling us she went to Michigan State on a golf scholarship....that is part of the reason I plan to get the kids involved in so many things. Hopefully they will really latch onto something they like and become good enough to get a scholarship somewhere. I just really want to bypass as much financial struggle for them when they graduate from college that I can. Hopefully hubby and I will be in a position to help them, too.

Anyhow, 529s are seriously the way to go for educational spending purposes. The money is tax deferred and remains tax deferred if used for education. It can be used for private schooling, books, technical schools, college, etc. If the kids decide not to go to college they do not have to pay a penalty for taking the money out, they just need to pay the taxes on the money saved. So, essentially, it is just paying the tax you would have paid if you went with another type of investment. There was also a custodial account that sounded interesting, but it did not have the perks of a 529.

I really just want to get it started, forget about it and not think anymore about the day I have to take P off to college. If she'll let me, I just want to rock her in her rocking chair and listen to music.

September 11, 2001

http://tinyurl.com/65sdf7

9/11. A day as an American I will never forget. If you ask anyone, I bet they know exactly what they were doing, if they were drinking a hot cup of coffee, and even the first person they called to tell them what they saw or heard. I had moved home from NYC 2 years prior to the Towers attack, and couldn't have been more frantic about my friends that were still living there. The many questions I had rolling through my mind and the waiting...oh, the waiting. I can't even imagine what family members were feeling....wives, husbands, mothers, sons....and today, hopefully the pain has eased for some. We learn to deal with the pain of losing a loved one, but I don't think it really goes away. I think you just build a callous around that area of your heart where that person lives. Your memories become bright ones and you forget the bad stuff to only remember the beautiful things and respect and honor your dead loved one.

This site contains information about 9/11 - but, please know that it will bring back the memories, the fear, the feeling of vulnerability and the sadness just like it felt 7 years ago: http://www.september11news.com/

Say a loving prayer today for those who lost their lives 7 years ago, those who lost their lives in the War in Iraq, those who still are over there, and the survivors.

Raising a Nation of Readers

Working towards being certified as a reading teacher, I strongly believe in reading to your children no matter how young they are. There is much information out there that discusses how reading to your child a few minutes a day can make a huge impact on their literacy success. Reading can be so difficult for some children, even some adults, but with the proper support from caregivers and access to books, a child can begin their love of books at a very young age. Introduce books to children when they are infants and it will benefit the child as they grow. From what I have experienced, books can be just as fun as toy trucks and baby dolls.

bubbies, 7 months enjoys being read to by sissy P, 2 years

I naturally love to read. I remember my brother saying I was boring because all I did was read. I'd take a book up into my favorite tree, my bedroom, the back porch, on the dock (I grew up on the Scioto River) and read for hours at a time. I wasn't picky, either. Some of my faves were trashy grocery story reads such as those books by V.C. Andrews. I think my mom would have died if she knew I was reading about siblings falling in love with each other...ewe. I was advanced in English throughout high school and in college I took many English courses in addition to my history courses (history was my major). I owe this to my mother who was/is a kindergarten and first grade teacher. My earliest reading memory was when my mother and grandmother took me to the Columbus Public Library, Karl Road branch I believe because that was where grandma lived, and pronouncing the word "the." I can see myself standing there and trying so hard to read fluently. I really, really wanted to read. Not a clue as to how old I was then.

Anyhow, I started reading to P as soon as she was born. We'd lay on my bed when she was an insty wintsy baby and I read Brown Bear and I Love You Stinky Face over and over again. She would just look at the pictures probably checking out the colors and seemed to just enjoy listening to my voice. We would read every night before bed and then as she got older we'd read throughout the day. I'd let her play with squishy and crinkly books - she liked to chew on them and one book had a squeaker in it that would drive her nuts. She couldn't squeeze it hard enough to get it to squeak. I'd just laugh and squeeze it for her enjoying her reaction. Today, P is an avid little reader. She can look at the pages and retell the story. Mainly because we have read so many of her books a million times and she has them memorized. The other day she sat down with Brown Bear and recited it perfectly. I wanted to get it on camera but as soon as I busted out the gadget she stopped. Typically, she sits and makes up stories to the pictures or she knows the gist of the story and will rephrase it back to me. It is so darn cute. I am so proud of her for loving books and so proud of myself for making books such a huge part of her life. We go to the various libraries around town for storytime, I take her to music classes where they read to the kids, and we hang out in bookstores and libraries. Now, don't get me wrong, she has a ton of toys to play with, but there are many times she chooses a book over a toy and I rather enjoy seeing that happen. Hopefully bubbies will have the same love for the written word that his big sissy does.

Morbid thoughts?

I don't know what my problem is. Seriously, why can't I get through one day without worrying about my demise? Is it because I have a baby and a toddler to look after now? Is it because I feel like I have so much to do before I die that I don't want to go?

I believe I am feeling like this for numerous reasons. As I grow older, so do my parents and so do my friends. One of my good friends just celebrated her 40th birthday and that kind of freaked me out. We have been friends for about 10 years and I don't think of her as 40 - I think of her as 30 - like when I met her. Age doesn't really matter anyhow, but sometimes society can make a person really think about numbers - for instance, friend Amanda's blog entry about feeling old at 31! What?! Has society made us feel like once we hit 30 we are ancient? Like actually living our lives occurred between 15 and 29 and then, well, you kind of suck and you may as well be in the grave? I really don't think so. I don't fall into this mindset, and nor will I ever. I believe that you are only as young as you feel, and if you feel ancient, then you are. Very simple, really. But, even if your mind is young, the cells in your body are aging whether you like it or not...but 30? c'mon.

Another reason I think I feel strained by these morbid thoughts is because one of my very best friends was diagnosed with cervical cancer. It ended up spreading so far she had a complete hysterectomy and then some. It was awful. She is recovering beautifully, but she is ONLY 36. Cancer just sucks.

Then, and this is hard for me to write about because I am trying not to face it. My dad has to get another lead put into his heart. I guess it is supposed to help, but it also tells me that his heart is pretty weak. He is so tired and distant all the time now. It makes me very sad, and this is even too much to write at the moment. So onto me....

Ever since I had children I have been in pain. I think once I stop breastfeeding it will get better, but my knees and joints ache everyday. It is scary. Like my dad's situation, I try to ignore it as best I can, but then my uterus hurts, I have a pain in my leg that won't go away and I feel like I am having trouble breathing. I sound like a total messy hypercondriac, but these things make me worry. I am going to see my doctor Monday for a physical. He'll run blood tests and tell me to chill more than likely, but I am prepared for him to tell me to see a knee specialist. We'll see. It may just be something like bursitis. Oh, and that is because I am over 30 and not in my 20's, btw. haha.

or....could it be because I am reading a book about vampires? hmmm...

Sleeping in the Jumparoo

Do I move him? Can't he...or can he just nap there? He'll so totally wake up if I move him. Do you think he looks comfortable? I can't leave him there if he is going to have a kink in his neck...do you really think he's okay?

That was my dialogue concerning bubbies falling asleep in the Jumparoo. Currently, he is still sleeping there very soundly. I don't want to get him out just to wake him up and have him cry like he has been all morning. But, it doesn't seem fair to let him sleep like that...but then again, I have slept in many precarious positions and places and was always fine...and would have been very po'd if someone had tried to move me. So, there he sits and sleeps.

His two top teeth are pushing their way through and he is very uncomfortable, which I believe is why he isn't sleeping at night. Before I put him in the bouncie I gave him a nice dose of Tylenol and massaged some homeopathic teething medicine on his gums. It wasn't an intentional drugging to make him sleep, but I am not complaining about the outcome. Just worried.

Of course, my toddler has been fighting me over a nap for the last hour. I finally shut the door with the knob guard on. It makes me feel like I gave up, but at the same time I am turning into the crankpot now, and have a wretched headache from "fighting" with her. Do I just give in? Lose this battle? I could have fought millions of other toddler battles today and being the brave warrior I am, I chose the toughest, longest, most painful one called "The War of Napping and a Thousand Tears." I think an arrow is piercing my heart as I write and listen to her screaming.

Basement Bonanza!

Over the last few months we have been doing construction on our house. We occupy a split-level, and the first thing we did when we moved in was renovate the "finished" part of the basement. It was horrible. Paneling that previous owners painted white, a dingy bar with fake foam wood beams and fake parquet flooring that had lead in it. Oh yeah...did I mention the bathroom? No, because it was disgusting. Water had leaked through the ceiling and rotted holes in it, the walls were gold wallpaper and the sink and toilet were some weird off-brown color. It looked like back in the day some great key parties were held at my house. Anyhow, we ended up turning that half of the basement into another living room, now a playroom for the kids and Shane, but then there was the other half (I like to call this half "THE basement") that was an eyesore and was put on the back-burner until proper fundage came in. I was always behind on laundry because I hated being in the room. It was dank, dreary and just plain ugly...but NOT anymore! We finally got around to fixin' it up, and it is quite possibly the nicest room in the house now. ha!

Construction began with a few pointers from my dad, help from my Uncle Rick hanging drywall and hubby manning the worksite. Well, as the work amped up at hubby's place of employment he lost precious work time. All construction halted for many, many months. We decided this just wasn't going to do and hired a terrific guy named Kyle to help us out. He hooked us up with drywall guys and then his crew finished the flooring and installation of our bathroom sink and toilet. The place seriously looks like a million bucks. And, since my dryer blew up I bought new washer and dryer units that are kicking major laundry butt. me so very happy....teehee.

I saw friend Beth's kitchen redo, and thought it was high time for me to post some pics. Especially since noone has really seen anything we have done. We also have work being done on the outside to make the home look presentable again. I was tired of living in "the house the old witch lives in." At least, that is the way I looked at our house. hahaah! Of course, the old witch still lives in the house....where's my broom?

Here are some before and afters....

Before

After

Before

After

Cha-cha-cha Changes

Bubbies turned 7 months old the other day. I can't believe how much more relaxed I am in regards to his milestones and physical development. With P I was watching her like a hawk: will she turn over today?; Will she clap today?; What can I do to make her reach her milestones quicker?; Is she normal? blah blah blah. Seriously, blah. I was so tired from worry that I took the enjoyment out of her just being a sweet, lovable, little baby. I regret that I wasn't more relaxed. Oh well - at least I am fortunate enough to do it again, and am TRYing to not be so hyper about making sure my baby is *okay*.

Anyhow, onto my babes...after all, they are much more exciting than me. P is 100% in what people deem the "terrible twos." She does two SO well, by definition, that she has even made ME act like I am in my terrible twos. As I am writing this post, she is screaming at her door because she doesn't want to nap. This is a normal occurrence lately. She screams and throws horrendous tantrums before naps and bedtime. I spoke with my pediatrician to be sure what I was experiencing wasn't due to an ear infection. She said the good news was that P's ears looked great, and that the bad news was that her ears looked great. So, what I have on my hands is a full-fledged temper-tantrum-throwing toddler...ahem, excuse me, preschooler (I'll never get these little kid age categories straight!), and I need to learn how to deal with it. Oy! Learn how to deal with it is correct, but learning how to cope with it seems like a better way to put it. But, it isn't all shits and no giggles - she is seriously my darling princess. We went to COSI today and I watched her say "hello" to other children and smile her sweet little smile, share toys, point out ways to do things easier to kids struggling with a toy, running, laughing, and trying out things she would never have tried out just one month ago. She is certainly is going for the Miss Independent award this year.

Bubbies is frustrated. He is figuring things out and getting annoyed that he can't do the things his sissy does. The boy is going to motor as soon as he can crawl, which he is trying to figure out. He's using a roll technique that can get him to the toy he wants. But, he doesn't necessarily want to roll there because he can't see, so he rolls on his belly and does his best to kick his legs and try to move. The kicking thing is similar to riding a stationary bike - no matter how hard you pedal you are still going nowhere. He ends up just crying until I roll him back over or sit him up. He is eating like a champ and is embracing the sippy. When P started taking the sippy I had to hold it for her for months, not bubbies. He grabs the cup right out of my hands and sticks it in his mouth.

Alas, I better wrap up because I could sit and write about my babes all day.

My Vision Day Letter

Each month I receive "The Vision Day Letter" from Debbie Phillips, co-owner of GroupMV, LLC. While I was working at MediaSource my boss was very good about team building seminars and weekends, and Debbie Phillips headed up one of those particular weekend events. Debbie made a huge impact on me, and I have always felt I walked away from her knowing I had the potential to do anything I wanted. She really helped me believe in myself...in a few short hours, with a few short exercises I felt changed...for the better. I was able to focus on what I wanted to accomplish in my life; from getting in shape to writing a book to changing my career focus. Basically, a person can do anything they want - they just need to believe in themselves and not be afraid to "let go" and pursue their own path to happiness. Easier said than done, I agree with that statement, but even just throwing the thought out that "I want/need a change" is the first step. I work on this everyday. It is hard, and is harder now that I have two children and do not have the time to focus so much on myself. I am learning balance; that is what I want to accomplish right now.

Anyhow, I received The Vision Day Letter, which is basically a monthly newsletter from Debbie and team, and I sat down and *really* read it. I haven't *really* read anything in months except schoolwork or children's books, and I am happy this was given some attention. Debbie's exec asst. was diagnosed with breast cancer. The company is based out of Martha's Vineyard, and that is where all of the employees live. Now, Martha's Vineyard is an island, which means they are a bit limited to healthcare. They have a hospital for general healthcare, but do not have the ability to treat patients who need critical surgeries and on-going treatments such as chemo or radiation treatments. Debbie's EA needs the critical healthcare only a hospital on the mainland can give her, and if she had to drive in for treatments it would mean a ridiculous travel time of 4 - 6 hours by car each way. Wow - to have to deal with that type of road time on top of having to get treatment for something you would NEVER in a million years wish for really just...well...sucks. Then I read how this woman doesn't have to deal with that type of road time because of a few Angels.

There is a volunteer organization called Angel Flight Northwest. Excerpt from their site:

"Angel Flight West is a nonprofit, volunteer-driven organization that arranges free, non-emergency air travel for children and adults with serious medical conditions and other compelling needs. Our network of 1,900 pilots throughout the 13 western states donate their aircraft, piloting skills, and all flying costs to help families in need, enabling them to receive vital treatment that might otherwise be inaccessible because of financial, medical, or geographic limitations.

Our pilots give freely of their time and money, restoring health and hope to those whose lives have been disrupted by illness, disaster, or other life-altering events. Their only reward is the joy of knowing how much of a difference they've made."

It is so wonderful to know that there are people out there who care so much about others. These pilots and organizers give of themselves freely just because someone needs help. I was literally brought to tears when I read about this organization.

My mother-in-law died of ovarian cancer Feb. 6, 2007. She had to drive to Dana-Farber in Boston from her home in Rhode Island everytime she needed a treatment. The drive time was about an hour and a half, and I remember thinking how difficult that must have been when she was so sick in her final months. And, to think that some people do not have the luxury of good healthcare even within a few hours of driving. Well, Angel Flight Northwest certainly answers some prayers, and for them and for the families they help I am thankful.

Why is poop funny?

I was just changing my daughter's stinky and she said "oooohhh! poop! I want to eat it."

uhm.

Saturday Dose of Humor

Humor event 1

So, I had NPR on in the car. When I take P anywhere I generally play her music - i.e.: The Wiggles, Gemini or Laurie Berkner, but that day my mind was off in lala land and I just wanted a low dose of talk radio vibrating through the air. I wasn't even paying attention to what was on until I hear my daughter quietly say something. I responded with the typical "What, honey?" Then she proceeds to tell me, and mind you she is only 2, "I want sex." Now, quickly thinking how to respond to that particular statement (uhmmm..I don't think I'll ever *really* be ready to talk about that with my daughter much less at the tender age of 2), I just say "oh." I mean, what do you say? She is only 2 and I am sure if I asked her if she wanted a great big glob of greasy grimey gofer guts she'd want that too.

Humor event 2

We were shopping at Target and I pick P up one of those cheap little echo microphones that amplifies your voice (you may be asking the question "why" at this point). We were having fun and singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider back and forth. giggling, laughing hahaha. Everything is fun, fun, fun. Then she yells "take your pants off." What?, and Why?, and Who was she yelling that to? I kind of blew it off then realized there was a man with his young daughter picking out school supplies. P was pointing right at the little girl. The father just put his hand on his girl's back and said "c'mon, let's get this done" and shielded his daughter from my daughter. It was pretty funny. I mean, P is 2 and the girl was probably 8. What was P going to do, jump out of the cart and pull the girl's pants down? Noooo, because the 8 year-old was wearing a skirt.

Humor event 3

P saw the word "Pharmacy" on the side of the Target building. She screams "THAT'S MY NAME!" Proud that she recognized the "P" I just responded "yes, honey, yes it is."

Humor from my past

I can't help but embrace the fact that P is quite possibly eNORMously annoyed by her baby brother. I was there at about the same age as P when my brother came along, and from what I am told (I don't remember any of this being 2 and all) I was eNORMously annoyed by my baby brother. My mom tells me that she brought home little baby Paxton and was so smitten with her new little boy. She wanted me to love him and embrace him with all the smooshy warm fuzzies she was giving him. Instead, I told her one lovely evening when she was taking the garbage out, to "pooh Pacton in deer" and pointed at the trash can.

Now, P hasn't officially requested that I throw baby brother away, but she has asked me to put him in the crib and shut the door. Recently, she has begun taking my hand after I put him down and leads me into another room. I think that is her way of saying he should be in the trash can.

Take my pets, please.

I got a chuckle over an article on Babble.com today. It is about how people think the world of their pets and almost think of them as furry children...that is, until they have human children of their own. The pets now get kicked out of the bed, forgotton to be fed, no longer get a daily fun walk and certainly don't get to play ball. So sad, but the life of taking care of a newborn gives a whole new meaning to responsibility. I know I had NO CLUE what I signed up for when I had my first human baby much less the second. My poor doggies - they now get their hair pulled, pushed, kicked, ridden and rolled on by my two-year-old...and hardly enough rubs and kisses for all of their patience.

Anyhow, here's the article:

Bad Parent: Take My Pets, Please

Melissa Anderson Sweazy

Three Fine Pets to a Good Home!

Tigger a.k.a The Kitten
Fine Attributes include:
Eating food off the dining room table, particularly in the 60 second time window it takes to get from the table to the kitchen for the baby's drink and back. He will time you.
Running underfoot while you carry the baby downstairs. Usually proceeded by a bonsai war cry to give you a sporting chance.
Crying until you personally escort him to his dinner. And then crying until you pet him as he eats. It's kind of like breastfeeding, except with zero benefits.

The Donkey a.k.a Murphy
Loves to bark while your child attempts to nap.
Loves to bark while you attempt to nap.
"Accidentally" runs over the baby while she's on the floor.
Despite hundreds of dollars and countless hours spent on training, responds to commands only if he feels like it.

The Elder Statesman a.k.a Andy
Craps on the floor of your house, sometimes behind a potted plant. Sometimes in it. Usually just in plain view.
Purrs.

This is the ad that I compose in my head, usually around three a.m., when The Kitten scratches and yowls at our daughter's nursery door. The ad gets decidedly more violent around 5:30, when both cats try to break down our door. In a blind rage, one of us stumbles over to the door and flings it open. The Kitten promptly knocks over the bedside water glass and the heavy book we use to block it from him. Crotchety, burly Andy (think Jack Palance with fur) picks a fight with the border collie, he of the nervous skin condition. Andy hisses. Murphy scratches his belly, vibrating the entire bed frame. My husband growls at the pets to cut it out.

Too late.

From across the hall, the baby starts to wail. My husband threatens to kill them all. I tell him to back off, because I want to do the deed myself.

This used to be a love story. Through some combination of luck, good looks and old-fashioned moxie, two cats and a puppy found their way into my home and my heart. I grew up with pets, so it was a fait accompli that I would cobble together a furry menagerie of my own. As annoying as they could be at times, they were mine. I had rescued each of them from an uncertain future in a shelter. There were the emergency operations for Andy, the labyrinth-like maze we set up so the Kitten could be outside, and for a brief, misguided period, the commercial agent for the devastatingly handsome Murphy. I had groomed them, fed them, cuddled with them and kept them alive for most of my adult life. Naturally, I felt like this qualified me for parenthood. I could just see my child curling up with the kitty for an afternoon nap. She would ride around the living room astride the goofy, loyal collie. It would be a sweet, peaceful animal-baby kingdom.

And then the kid came.

We had been warned that the pets would get the shaft once the baby became the focal point of our existence. What I was not prepared for was the depth of my hatred for beings I once claimed to love, and how quickly the switch happened.

The dog, our former "baby," was simply an inconvenient mass of baby-slicing claws and potential allergens. The cats left hairballs like a breadcrumb trail for the baby to follow. When not literally underfoot, they lay about on the baby's things. They yowled outside every closed door. The hair. The everpresent hair that no amount of vacuuming could banish. When we had a precious, spare moment to ourselves, elderly Andy would defecate on the carpet or someone would eat said feces and lick the baby.

And the kicker? They loved the baby. We couldn't use pet jealousy or aggression toward her to justify our feelings, and that just made us hate them even more.

But for the sake of the family, we tried to make it work. My husband the hero (already laboring under massive sleep deprivation while we co-slept) rose extra early to take the dog on the long walks to which he was accustomed. We stepped up doggie "day care" to twice a week to help him burn off all that pent-up energy. The cats were nuzzled and lavished with treats when not trying to trip me on the way down the stairs with the baby.

"Why don't you just get rid of them?" a friend asked after listening to my rant. She matter-of-factly announced that she'd given away her cats shortly after having her baby. She placed an ad in Craigslist, interviewed a few candidates, and poof! No more cat hair to fish out of the baby's mouth. I left in a funk of confusion and jealousy. That was actually an option?

Getting rid of them was what those other people did. Before we found Murphy, I spent hours volunteering at animal rescue groups and trolling online shelter sites in my search for The One, shaking my head at those lazy, callous people who had dumped their pets because they no longer had time. They had made a commitment to these animals, and surely a little sleep deprivation and maddening annoyance couldn't justify breaking such a promise, right?

Still, the hatred gnawed a hole in me. I was heartened to hear from my friend Lisa, who confessed to lying awake at night, imagining braining her incessantly barking dogs. She admitted that she was horrified by the disturbing, violent images, insisting that she used to not be "that kind of person." And then she realized, she wasn't that person. She was just someone trying to get sleep.

Sleep deprivation was definitely taking its toll: on me, my husband, our family. If the family unit wasn't functioning, it was our obligation to fix it. But did this mean cutting out a portion to restore some sanity? Signs pointed to yes.

Then there was the Colorado incident.

We left town for Christmas vacation, leaving the pets in the care of our beloved sitter. I called on New Year's Eve, letting her know we would be extending our trip an extra day. She called back, frantic. She didn't have our trip on the books. In a perfect storm of misunderstanding and double bookings, she hadn't been to the house. For an entire week.

We waited in tense, agonizing silence for her to report back as she raced to the house. Dread knotted up my stomach. Please, please be okay, I prayed. Amazingly, they were. They drank out of the toilet and noshed on the giant bag of cat food one of them managed to tip over. They even had the courtesy to pick one carpet to use as their restroom. Not another piece of furniture was touched. They happily received the petsitter when she arrived to check on them, accepting walks and love and belly rubs, and then resumed lounging around the house like nothing had happened.

I hung up with the sitter, and my husband and I sat down on the floor and sobbed. When we got home, we raced each other inside the house, scooping up our pets and whispering our gratitude into their fur. We had hated them, but as it turned out, not enough.

I now understand and respect the decision any parent makes to relocate their pets. No amount of bellowing from animal advocacy groups can convince me that an animal should take precedence over a child — or a parent's ability to take care of that child. But we will be keeping ours — the feces eater, the ambusher and the bully. It turns out the baby loves them, and sometimes we do too.

Article photo: Bruce Lee

http://www.babble.com/content/articles/columns/badparent/Take-My-Pets-Please-I-used-to-love-my-dog-and-cats-Then-I-had-a-baby/

Ohio History

Taking a break from kiddom to write a bit about my home state. I need to put my mind somewhere that doesn't involve screaming, whining, crying, reprimanding, dirty diapers, fit throwing, dog and baby hitting by my 2 year old. Ugh. It had certainly been a morning and I truly felt like I was going to burst. P has been quite challenging lately and I knew I needed a break when I wanted to scream right back at her. TIME-OUT! Well, the time-out I assigned just made her actions get worse instead of calming her down. I finally got her to stay put long enough to change her stinky dipe, and then I realized it was naptime. duh! Well, I typically read her one or two stories and rock her for a bit. Today I told her I was mad. I was just too mad to read. She, of course, screamed and cried, threw books at the door, kicked the door and after about fifteen minutes of that she got quiet. I assumed she was either reading in her bed or asleep, and that made me feel less guilty just putting her in her room. I really needed a break or *I* was going to scream, cry and throw books at the door! So, I decided to put my mind somewhere else for a bit.

A few days ago I was listening to NPR and there was a great interview with ? who spoke on Columbus history (I am having trouble finding the link for the actual interview and the name of the person who was being interviewed). Being a history buff and having my BA in European History, the segment was like ear candy for me. He gave information on weather, industry, social life and housing. It was fascinating. Here is a bit of what I learned:

• Some of the neighborhoods surrounding the city that haven't been rennovated still have a layer of black soot on the bricks. Generally, residents or owners of these old houses have done a chemical wash to get it off, but some have not and it makes me wonder if they even know that dirt has a story. In the 1800s Ohioans burned coal and wood in the mills and also in their homes for heat. That layer of black soot is remnants of that wood and coal that circulated through the air.
• That wood and coal also caused a lot of health problems. If you came to Columbus for a visit it would probably look to you like the smog in LA; a lingering like a black cloud over the city. People would cough a lot from lung irritation and this irritation could have led to turbuculosis, lung cancer and emphyzema. Watery and irritated eyes were another common ailment.
• Tuberculosis was a prevelant health concern because it was so common, and it caused many deaths. They didn't have the same antibiotics we have today, so it wasn't like just popping over to the pharmacy to fill a prescription. People with TB suffered with the pain and experimented with various ways to cure the disease. One common cure was to sleep outside during the winter. Some Columbus houses still have a "sleep porch" where a person would sleep during the cold months. Being in the cold air and out of the house where wood and coal were burning for heat, helped their lungs heal because they weren't aggrivating them with coughing.
  
• There were main roads and side roads. Your cow, sheep or pig was allowed to urinate or poo on the side roads, but if they did it on a main road you had to clean it up. Horses, however, were pooping everywhere. People had a higher tolerance back then for $hit. Their sewage systems were basically holes in the ground, better known as outhouses. I believe there were even sewar lines along the streets. These wouldn't be contained underground...I am sure you get the picture.
• Columbus was mainly made up of farmers, but there were many educated people here as well.
  
• Ohio was part of the Northwest Ordinance, which basically meant it was a "free state." But, there is a lot that goes along with the meaning of "free" here.

Well, that was my history lesson for today. The kids are awake. :)

And the winner is....

Pocket diapers are by far my favorite. I'll tell ya' the world of cloth diapering is extreme. There are tons of WAHM, an acronym for Work At Home Mothers, who make cloth diapers and covers and sell them. As a matter of fact, the bum Genius 3.0 that I am in love with was made originally by a WAHM, and from what I have read is being sold in some Target stores. crazy! These aren't the old square pieces of material with an ugly plastic wrap to keep the pee in that my mom put me in, cloth diapers of today are a fashion statement...along with being evironmentally friendly and economical.

It took me a lot of experimentation and questions to get to the point where I am now with cloth diapering. I ordered a few package deals of prefolds, contours and pockets to see what I would like. I didn't even test the AIOs because my gut told me that they just wouldn't get as clean as diapers you actually pulled the insert out of and clean separately. The decision on what type of diaper system to use was a personal one. I had to ask myself questions such as: "do I mind touching a lot of pee," "do I think my baby gets clean if the cloth is full of pee or poo?," "do I want to wash them?," "which dipes work best on a wiggler?" and most importantly "do I want to deal with the poopies when they start eating solids?" All of these were some of my initial questions, so I researched and researched and researched. I think I was a bit too obsessive, but I knew if I was spending hundreds of dollars up front to diaper my kid(s) that I wanted to make the most informed decision I could make.

The research was easy because there are many, many people who blog about it, companies that sell them post all sorts of information from how to clean them to reviews and suggestions, and a forum (diaperswappers.com) where you can go and thread q's on diaper "chatter" or even look at the various types of diapers. There is an area on this forum where people sell and trade their new and used wares...yes, you can resell your used diapers. If you take really good care of your diapers you have the potential of getting at least half of your money back when you are through using them. This also depends on which diapers you use. If you use prefolds you may as well keep them to dust with, but the wraps you cover the prefolds in and if you use dipes such as Fuzzi Bunz or bum Genius, you can get some cash back on your investment. For instance, all of the diapers I "tested" and didn't care for I sold. I posted them on diaperswappers.com and sold them within one day. You get rated on the forum, so your diapers better be what you post them as or someone will give you a bad rating and you'll never be able to sell again. I hope mommy Heather blogs about her diaper experience chasing another woman down to get not-so-nose-friendly used diapers. Let's just say - if someone posts they have free cloth diapers and they are just giving them away and not donating them, don't go get them.

The system I decided on, as I mentioned, is pocket diapers. I like that the insert can be taken out and the cover can be washed separately. Makes me feel like they get really clean that way. I can also put a doubler in them for naps and nightime and not worry about leaks. I have 13 bum Genius 3.0 and 3 Fuzzi Bunz. I need to add about 6 more to my collection so I don't wear them out. But, once I add those 6 and take good care of my diapers, I should be able to use them until bubbies gets potty trained...in about 2 years. I did the math, and after all I bought and sold and the accessories needed (diaper pails, rice paper and potentially a diaper sprayer), I will have not only made a small impact on our earth's landfills, but I will also have saved almost $1700. Crazy!

Here is bubbies in his bum Genius...I like this diaper and the Fuzzi Bunz because they are not bulky. They are a tad bulkier than a disposable, but not bad under clothes. And, they look SO cute with just a shirt or onsie, too.

6 Month Doctor's Visit

Bubbies had his 6 month visit today. I can't believe he is half a year old already.....my time flies. Here's the skinny...well, the chubby:

95th percentile for weight and height
29 and 3/4 inches
21 pounds

He did well with his immunizations. I think P cried more over him receiving his shots than he did. She was throwing a fit when the nurse was poking him...it was sad to see her so upset for her baby brother. As funny as it may sound, it was a very loving moment - yes, seriously, while bubbies was getting 4 different needles shoved in his thighs P was screaming and crying for him. I think he'll always lose the limelight to her...even when he gets a shot! He stopped crying as soon as I picked him up and was fine the whole day. What a trooper. The doc said he wants to possibly experiment with putting dairy back into my diet around 9 months. We'll see if that comes to fruition. It'll be interesting to see how my body reacts, too. I have felt so great without dairy that I may keep it that whey - just not as stringent as I have to be now.

A Wigglely Concert!

Grammies, P, bubbies and I went to see The Wiggles last night at Nationwide Arena. Simply put: it was awesome. When I was first introduced to The Wiggles by my Aunt Mary I wasn't sure if it was something I could get into. I mean, 4 men, a "Captain Feathersword" that makes people laugh by tickling them with his sword, and a bunch of grown men and women dancing and singing for kids. At first I was apprehensive because it meant I was falling into that whole mainstream Disney thing, but I have to write, I am now an official Wigglyaddict....for my kids, of course.

We started our love of Wiggles by Mary searching them on Youtube. We found some great little snippets from their TV show, their concerts and other random fun. I was intrigued by the music and P was intrigued by the dancing and music. Everything they do is high-energy and colorful...hmm? perfect for kids, I think so!

The show was terrific. Grammies and I just laughed and smiled at the kids and at some of the adult humor that was thrown in. P was taking in the stage, all the people and the "biggness" of the arena and then once she realized she wasn't just there to play with stickers she was very excited. The whole show I held her standing on my lap so she could see and be mesmorized by colorful men in blue, red, purple and yellow. Grammies held bubbies and he just looked at all the people and smiled and cooed the whole time. I couldn't have been happier with how perfect my kids were! The show was about an hour and half long. Lots of skits, music, dancing and humor. People in the audience brought signs from their kids, such as: "Lizzie is and Aussie," "It is John's Birthday" and someone brought "You say OH, I say IO." The blue Wiggle, Anthony, would read the signs outloud and was trying to figure out what one sign read. The sign basically prompted him to say "O-H" and the crowd responded with "I-O." He looked confused and then figured out it was a chant and said it again when all the guys were out on stage. They were a little shocked to hear the crowd yell "I-O" at them. Oh...Ohio proud dorkiness....it was cute, though.

They rocked it old style, too. They dressed up like the Beatles, the 70's era and did their renditions of Humpty Dumpty and the Isty Bitsy Spider. It was nice to see appreciation of kids' music from the past and how they feel it is important for our kids of the future. You could tell how much they loved what they do, too. It was obvious they love children and they love music. I think we are very lucky to have groups like them to peak our children's interest in music and dancing. I will take the kids again...no doubt.

Got our tickets.

P watching the show with her Wiggle sticker booklet that was waiting for her on her chair.
Grammies and bubbies.

The stage.

Body after baby

There is so much more to bringing baby home that *weighs* on mommy's mind other than lack of sleep, eating poorly and basically using your body as a punching bag, and that is the obsession with baby weight. With all of the media hype on celeb moms glamming it up mere weeks after giving birth, no wonder us ordinary mamas feel the need to get into our favorite jeans AT LEAST 3 months after baby is born. Well, for some that is doable, and for others that falls into the old wives tale category. A mommy took 10 months putting on that weight - weight that is needed to sustain a healthy environment for the baby, and they need to take at least that long to get it back off. New mommies are far too hard on themselves to get that extra 10 or 15 pounds shed...and despite popular belief, breastfeeding doesn't take it all off. So, those who tell you that shame on them.

My friend Kristyn was recently interiewed and quoted on MSNBC about this very subject. Thanks Kristyn for putting it into perspective for everyday mommies. I am still on a high that I created a miracle 2 years ago and then again 6 months ago - their little smiles outweigh my weight...besides, a person can always lose weight, but their babies will be babies only once so obsess over them, not oneself! :)

Take a look at the article here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26081703/

Celebrity mamas fuel post-baby body blues

Stars who are bikini-ready right after birth inspire fury in many new moms

By Diane Mapes

MSNBC contributor

updated 8:23 a.m. ET, Mon., Aug. 11, 2008

Elaine Schoch once loved nothing more than spending her Sunday mornings flipping through the “mind-numbing” celebrity-filled pages of Us Weekly.

Then something happened: her daughter Samantha, born Feb. 4, 2008.

“I decided to subscribe right before I had my baby so I could still read the gossip every weekend,” says Schoch, a 31-year-old public relations maven from Denver. “But then I just got depressed. They’d have all these beautiful pictures of Christina Aguilera and Nicole Richie and they’d be talking about how they lost all their baby weight. It made me feel bad about myself. So I canceled my subscription.”

Schoch isn’t the only one who has come down with the celebrity baby body blues. A survey by the San Francisco-based Web site Babycenter.com on the impact of “teeny and toned new celebrity moms” found 31 percent of moms felt angry about the “extra pressure on regular moms to look that way” and 24 percent simply felt depressed.

And truly, who can blame them? Celebrity moms are not only dropping their baby weight quickly, they seem to be engaged in some sort of Postpartum Weight Loss Olympics. One week, the tabloids will be abuzz with the news that Marcia Cross has lost her baby weight (from twins!) in three months’ time; the next, a svelte Halle Berry will be rocking the red carpet just six short weeks after delivery. In the most recent case of celebrity shrinkdown, Nicole Kidman’s post-baby body was declared “Already Hot After 2 Weeks!” by the New York Post Chronicle.

But the lightning fast weight loss is only part of the picture. Hollywood moms are also stripping down in order to rub their perfectly restored bodies in our dimpled, dumbfounded faces.

From pregnant to Playboy
Former Bond girl Denise Richards, who gained 30 pounds while carrying her first daughter Sam took it all off (the weight and her clothes) for Playboy magazine just five months after she delivered. Not to be outdone, supermodel Heidi Klum hit the Victoria’s Secret catwalk — in an electric bra and thong, no less — just eight weeks after giving birth to son, Henry.

Is it any wonder that normal everyday moms are baring something, as well? Namely their claws.

“Thanks to celeb moms who show up on the red carpet svelte and perfect weeks after giving birth, regular women are faced with a ridiculous standard to meet,” one commenter posted on Jezebel.com.

“So now we’re supposed to look like anorexic teenagers as soon as we squeeze Junior out?” added another.

Kristyn Wilson, a 30-year-old media relations specialist from Columbus, Ohio, who gave birth to son, Jack, 10 months ago, says she’s had it up to here with stars and their instantaneously streamlined bodies.

“Pushing women to lose so much weight and lose it so quickly when you’re just trying to figure out how to be a mom and balance your life is mean and unfair,” says Wilson. “It puts undue pressure on women and promotes an unfair image to husbands who think ‘If Christina Aguilera can get her body back so quickly, why can’t my wife?’”

Experts, meanwhile, warn that the raising of this beauty bar can be unhealthy for mom and baby, no matter how famous they are.

Most doctors don’t advise extreme dieting or vigorous workouts immediately after giving birth. The La Leche League International, a breast-feeding support organization, recommends mothers not deliberately try to lose weight the first two months after having a baby to establish a good milk supply and let their bodies recover from childbirth.

Women who want to lose weight still need between 1,500 and 1,800 calories a day to maintain good milk production, the organization says. On the flip side, nursing burns up to 500 calories a day so Junior can help you in your quest to shed pounds.

No fair!
Perhaps the most painful part about the new celebumom standard is that it’s managed to infiltrate the last bastion of the female experience. Years ago, moms got a pass — even moms with movie deals. Now even motherhood — the great equalizer — has gotten a brutally hot makeover.

Wilson says standards have become so distorted that a “normal” mom body is now viewed as “unattractive.”

“The tabloids and TV make it seem like it’s not normal that your body looks different after you’ve had a baby,” she says. “It’s like there’s something wrong with you physically — or you’re lazy — if you’re not able to get back to the exact same shape and size that you were prior to conceiving a child. And that’s impossible.”

Impossible, that is, if you don’t happen to have a personal trainer, personal chef, nutritionist, nanny, night nurse, and three or four full-time assistants.

“Celebs have 24-hour ‘round the clock care,” says Suzanne Schlosberg, mother to 13-month-old twin boys and co-author of “The Active Woman’s Pregnancy Log: A Day-to-Day Diary and Guide to a Fit and Healthy Pregnancy.” “They’ve got somebody to take care of baby while they do their workouts with their $250-an-hour trainer. They’ve got a fancy personal chef creating their perfect 200-calorie meals. It’s not an even playing field. They have all these advantages that real people don’t have.”

They even sleep better in Hollywood
One simple, and perhaps underrated, advantage is the fact that ‘round the clock care means celebs can get their beauty sleep, which according to a recent study in the American Journal of Epidemiology, makes a big difference when it comes to postpartum weight.

Researchers at Harvard looked at 940 women and found that moms who slept five hours or less per day when their babies were 6 months old were three times as likely to still be carrying extra weight six months later than moms who slept seven hours a day.

But even with all the sleeping, pampering and personal training, stars can’t exactly hire people to lose the weight for them, says Galina Espinoza, senior editor at People magazine.

“Granted, they’re not getting up in the middle of the night to feed their babies. They’re not sleep deprived and exhausted. But they still have to go to the gym every day. They still have to do the work.”

Work that pays off with amazing results, which Espinoza says inspires many of the magazine’s readers.

“There’s always a little bit of schadenfreude when they struggle to lose weight, but celebs can also be motivating and inspiring,” she says. “They can encourage women that it’s possible to get their figure back even after having kids.”

Catherine Lang-Cline, who gave birth to daughter, Audrey, four months ago, says the Christina Aguilera carrot works for her.

“I don’t feel any pressure to keep up with celebrities because it’s their job to look good,” says Lang-Cline, 42, the co-owner of a creative staffing agency in Columbus, Ohio. “Otherwise they’ll end up with their cellulite on Page One. But I do find it inspiring that I don’t have to stay the flabby lump of goo that I feel I am now. Celebrities show that it’s possible to look good after having a baby. Granted, they’ll probably do it in half the time, but at least it’s possible.”

But new mother Elaine Schoch, who has shed nearly all of her baby weight since giving birth five months ago, isn’t quite feeling it.

“Maybe some women are inspired, but I’m not,” she says. “If they gave you real tips — real meal plans, real workout times that you could do — then it might be more inspiring. But the stars are, like, ‘I work out five days a week for four hours a day.’ That’s one of their tips. Great.”

Hollywood’s rail-thin baby brigade hasn’t done much for the thousands of women psychologist Shoshana Bennett of San Ramon, California, has counseled over the years, either.

“There’s a loud argument going on in the minds of everyday moms,” says Bennett, founder of Postpartum Assistance for Mothers and author of “Postpartum Depression for Dummies.” “Even though intellectually they know that these celebs have a team of image professionals working with them, on an emotional level it still has an impact. There’s a constant comparison going on. They know better, but they still put themselves down,”

And though the celebrity yardstick by which we’ve come to measure ourselves is usually just a pain in the (flabby) behind, for some, it can be much more problematic.

“Having unrealistic expectations can certainly feed into a postpartum depression or anxiety,” says Bennett. “I don’t think it would be the only factor, but it could make it worse. You bet.”

Mommy makeover
Of course, many moms don’t get mad or sad, they get even — or at least try to even the playing field — by embracing plastic surgery’s latest nip-and-tuck trend, the “mommy makeover.” According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, “mommy makeover” procedures such as tummy tucks, breast augmentations and breast lifts rose 6 percent in 20- to 39-year-old women in 2007 (in 2006, they went up by 11 percent).

But the magic bullet approach isn’t necessary, says Dr. Laura E. Riley, director of labor and delivery at Massachusetts General Hospital and author of “You and Your Baby: Pregnancy.” A realistic amount of time — coupled with healthy eating and exercise — will still do the trick.

“It probably takes on average four to six months to lose a normal amount of baby weight gain,” she says. “It took you nine months to put it on. It’s not going to come off in nine weeks.”

If it does, there may be something else going on.

“I suspect a fair number of celebrities do calorie restriction while pregnant so that their weight isn’t so high,” she says. “If you only gain 15 pounds during pregnancy, you have a lot less to lose than someone who gains the recommended 25 to 30 pounds. I think it’s a celebrity thing, but it’s caught on in a lot of places, like New York. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. The mom’s nutritional fat during pregnancy is incredibly important.”

The tendency to cut calories and over-exercise in order to stay thin even while pregnant —dubbed “pregorexia” — is just one explanation for instantly-skinny celeb moms (and their die-hard devotees). Not surprisingly, there are dozens of other theories bandied about on blogs and pregnancy sites as to how celebs have managed to pull the wool — and the baby blanket — over Mother Nature’s eyes. They’re not breast-feeding; no, they’re breast-feeding too much. They’ve had Thermage to eradicate all their stretch marks. Or they’re wearing special “belly wraps” to tighten up after birth (indeed, reality TV host, hottie and 36-year-old mother of four Brooke Burke has developed her own post-baby girdle called Taut).

The mythic C-tuck
One of the more persistent rumors is that of the mythic C-tuck, a combination tummy tuck/Caesarean section said to be used by certain stars to consolidate their childbirth experience with a quick cosmetic cover-up. Plastic surgeons pooh-pooh the rumor and the American Society of Plastic Surgeons says tummy tucks should happen no sooner than six months after delivery, yet the procedure is whispered about on mommy forums like a delivery room Holy Grail.

For many women, though, it’s not surgical sleight-of-hand or stick-thin celebs and their immaculate brand of motherhood that provides inspiration. It’s their friends and fellow moms.

Two years ago, the blog Theshapeofamother.com began posting photos of moms of all ages, shapes, and sizes “so we can finally see what women really look like sans airbrushes and plastic surgery.” Thousands of stories and starkly honest images later, reader comments refer to restored self-esteem and newfound confidence.

According to Kristyn Wilson, mother of Jack, that same kind of support is available offline, as well.

“Last week, my friends and I had a pool party and none of us cared about each others’ stretch marks, pregnancy lines or dimples,” says Wilson. “My one girlfriend, with a 20-month-old, showed up in a bikini. She still had that line on her belly from being pregnant, the linea nigra. She hadn’t just put on weight, you could see the physical aftermath of having a child. But god bless her, she looked so cute. I went ahead a put a bikini on, too.”

Diane Mapes is a Seattle freelance writer and author of the recently released "How to Date in a Post-Dating World."

© 2008 MSNBC Interactive

URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26081703/

Clapping

Bubbies started clapping! It is the cutest thing - I forgot how cute I thought it was when P did it for the first time. He claps all the time, too. He'll be in his highchair while I am making dinner and laughing and clapping. Mom even said she thought he did it on demand. Not sure about that, but I'll keep trying.

P's first dental exam

P had her first visit to the dentist this morning. I tried to get her excited, but as soon as we got there she freaked out. "I don't want to go to the doctor!!" I told her the dentist just tickles your teeth and looks in your mouth and counts your teeth. It is fun! Yeah, right. Try reasoning with a 2 year old...what am I nuts? What worked the best was just holding her and promising it was okay. As long as she was in my arms she was fine.

Well, that posed a problem. When I got to the dental office I put Ethan in his stroller. He is far to heavy to carry in his bucket seat, and I forgot the stroller it clicks into...but that hardly mattered. There was no elevator. And, to top it off, there were two flights of stairs. Carpeted, thankfully, but still, two flights of stairs. How was I supposed to get my upset toddler and my chubby bubbies up those stairs with a stroller? Well, I couldn't. I decided to leave the stroller tucked away under the water fountain and head up. P was okay with climbing the stairs, luckily, and I carried bubbies.

Finally, up the stairs. Now, holding baby and have screaming toddler to be picked up. Then the receptionist asked for my paperwork they prefer you fill out at home...that I just so happened to leave in my car. I laughed and asked to fill out new forms because I couldn't muster up the energy to do what I just did without bubbies in a stroller. She offered to hold bubbies, who cried the whole time I ran to the car with P. My children were making spectacles of themselves all because there was no elevator - but, I forgive the office because they were TERRIFIC with P and bubbies, and me for that matter.

They had a separate room with toys for the kids. Lots of toys to keep P busy. As she was playing I looked down because I felt something wet. Bubbies peed out his diaper on my lap, and we had just arrived. And, I forgot my diaper bag. And, the nurses were just holding him. Ugh. What was I supposed to do? Luckily it was only pee. I just dealt with it and knew P's name would be called soon. When the nurse came to get us P had another meltdown - there was noway we were getting her in that room without a plan. Fish! Yay dentist for having a fish tank with cool fish AND a Nemo motif painted throughout the whole room. P loves Nemo, so she lightened up a bit...well, until it was time for the brushing. They brushed her teeth with a flouride treatment that supposedly lasts six months. The treatment was to protect P's teeth since children typically don't brush with a flouride toothpaste (kids' toothpaste has no flouride and tastes good - so they swallow it, generally) or have flouride in their water. Before the exam P started screaming and I had to pawn my wet baby off on a nurse.

I was instructed to put P's legs around me and lay her head in the nurse's lap. Holding down my child to get her teeth brushed is not my idea of a good time. Then I hear bubbies screaming because I had to have a nurse hold him since P was uncooperative - and he is entering the stranger anxiety phase of his little life so he was scared to death. My poor children - both screaming for mama, both unhappy, both making spectacles of themselves, and all of the other patients looking at me like I committed a crime. I just laughed and kept on with that appt. I needed P to get her oral exam to be sure her teeth and gums were healthy and that her teeth were coming in okay. And, there was noway I was leaving after the effort it took to get to that point.

P checked out okay and got to choose a little prize before we left and got her toothbrush. (She wanted a sucker, but the dentist said they don't have suckers...what?! Outrage. No sugary sweets that decay teeth at a dentist office?) That was fun for her. Of course, my child couldn't make up her mind between the little plastic elephant or the little plastic hippo. We went with the little plastic elephant and the purple toothbrush.

Everyone there was so great and helpful. They acted like the kids were fine and completely doing the normal thing, which was probably true, but being the mom at that moment didn't feel so great. Luckily I won't have to do it again for a few months.

My friends are such NITWITS

As I struggled at home yesterday with bubbies getting over his illness and P's prolonging, my kickball game went on. I had to bail out on the game, which was THE game of the season, because I had to take P to the pediatrician to find out what the heck was going on with her and prepare for an exam I have to take Thursday morning. ugh. Why do I have to miss out on all the fun? poor me. :) BUT, thankfully I took P to the pedi because she has yet ANOTHER double ear infection. poor her. I am so sad for my little princess, especially sad...well feeling guilty...because she was dangling from my last nerve all day yesterday and Monday. The constant whining of a two year old can easily break the nerves of a woman who hasn't slept in four nights because her kids have been up sick and crying or need breastfeeding. However, I am the adult and should muster through the "I wanna pop your head off, kid" moments without at a hitch...yeah, whatever.

Anyhow, I mentioned THE game of the season. Well, my kickball team plays one game in costume each year. The first year we dressed up as pirates, the second year as medical patients and this year was prom 2008. Yes, this year was Enchantment Under the Sea a Prom Night. Yet another hilarious idea by hubby's friends in the name of fun, and a tactic to sidetrack our opponents to win...not really, we pretty much NEVER win. All the guys played in prom gowns and the girls played in pants and jackets aka suits. johnnyLung calls last night and leaves a message as I am putting the kids down and says "we lost, imagine that, but I didn't even get lucky." I was cracking up! Then I check my email this morning and Steve sends out the pictures the kickball league took and I almost peed my pants in laughter. Check it out: the NitWits Enchantment Under the Sea.

It looks like they all had some great fun! Hopefully I won't miss out next year.