I don't get all this outrage against the new Motrin ad campaign by mothers who think it is demeaning that they might possibly have neck or get back pain from carrying their infant in a sling/wrap/etc.... What is so offensive about the ad? Hint: stop taking yourself so serious. I think I might boycott Motrin just for pulling the ad after the recent uproar. I can be stupid too!

An angry bored mother

Funny

A family vacation almost turns deadly when a 3 year old slips through a cliff rail during a family photograph at a state park. Watch video.

Oprah is now offering her viewers, for a limited time (ends Nov 14), free 20 page 8 1/2 x 11 photo book. It is a promotion that HP & Snapfish are doing with Oprah. You can upload up tp 20 photos and get a book of your children's artwork, family vacations or just something for yourself. To learn how visit, http://www.oprah.com/slideshow/oprahshow/20081029_tows_messyhouse/7

Standing over the trash can with a handful of panties I brought home from the hospital in one hand, I dedicate this haiku:

Large, white, mesh breathing comfort

You hit my navel

So sexy, I wore you out

After 13 days past my due date, Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire finally induced me to put me out of my misery and prove that there is good in humanity. Apparently I had an "unfavorable" cervix, which means it was not thinning, nor opening on its own. I was later to find out that I also have flat nipples. Strange, I thought my body was made to do this baby making business.

I went to the hospital open-minded, (which for me is a labor of a different color). I thought I could work my way through labor pains, so as to avoid what was rumored to be a huge needle in my back. After I heard my nurse say that Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire was on his way to break my water, I figured I was in for a long night and a world of hurt, so I asked for an epidural. The needle wasn't as bad as was rumored and it really didn't hurt...except for the part when the anesthesiologist hit a nerve causing my left leg to kick out, nearly missing my hubby's nut sack. I am forever grateful that I decided to get the epidural, for what was to come in the next few hours would have been real hell if I were in pain.

After 12 hours of pitocin and saline drip, the baby's heart rate continued to drop and finally the fetal heart rate monitor lost his heart rate altogether. About a dozen doctors and nurses came running in my room, moving my numbed legs in different directions until the babies heart rate returned. Meanwhile, one of the nurses threw a surgical outfit to hubby and told him to get dressed and grab his camera. We were obviously heading for an emergency c-section. Hubby was able to watch the whole procedure as he sat next to me. When Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire pulled the baby out of my belly, he announced that his cord was wrapped around his neck three times. Apparently this is really rare, and according to hubby it looked like the baby was wearing a sausage turtleneck. Gross.

From that point I remember telling hubby to follow the nurses who took the baby to an exam table at the side of the room, I really wanted as many photos as possible. While Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire and the assisting doc were talking about the last time they saw a baby with its cord wrapped around its neck three times, which they concluded was during the 2000 Olympics, they were trying to recall the names of the male gymnasts who rocked those games, as they remarked we should name the baby after them for his obvious gymnastic abilities. While these two docs were going on about the 2000 Olympics, and trying to recall the name of the Hamm brothers, I was wearing an oxygen mask, and trying to get someone's attention, I knew the answer and it was killing me that I couldn't communicate. Actually, it was killing me that I knew the answer and wasn't able to beat someone to the punch. I suppose this would be the slow painful death of a Jeopardy fan like myself.

As I was trying to answer "Olympians for $1200, Alex", the hubby was going down. He was escorted out of the OR white as a ghost. Apparently he had a stomach virus that reared its ugly head in all of the excitement and ended up spending the next three days sick as a dog. Thankfully one of the nurses took over his photojournalist duties, and he was able to collect himself and come back into the OR for our first family photos.

That was 10 days ago. Since then I've been falling in love more and more with my baby boy. He is not only beautiful, but he is such a good baby. I have to say, I wasn't prepared for the amount of sharting that comes from this little guy. There are some really explosive sounds down in diaper land, and they make me laugh every time. I can tell we're going to have a good time together!

U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission: Around 400 babies developed rashes on their backs after they wore baby garments by Carter's Inc., based in Atlanta, Georgia.  The warning includes the fall 2007 baby clothing line which includes about 110 million garments that use "stenciled" / "tag-less" labels on the inside back. The CPSC has stopped short of calling for a full recall but warns that babies who develop rashes should stop using the product.

Read full report

Oh, Chubby Checker... there are three reasons your tune is the one I dedicate to today's pregnancy status. Being that I am two days past my due date, Chubby just seems to be a perfect musician for me to channel today. That and the fact that I just came home from a walk-walk-waddle around the lake, having decided that as long as I keep moving, the baby will be encouraged to dislodge himself from his cozy abode in my belly. Hopefully, while I was on my hour walk (which usually takes closer to 30 mins), my little boy was twisting his way down, inching closer to his big debut. 

The third reason Chubby's Twist is the song of the day is that I was hit with a sugar attack on my drive home from the lake, and being a rare sunny day in late October in the Pacific Northwest, I decided this must be an "Indian Summer", which of course calls for an ice cream cone. So, I pulled into Tulley's, ordered a vanilla bean and chocolate twist in a cone. I had to repeat myself three times, obviously the dipstick working the drive-thru isn't accustomed to customers ordering ice cream in the midst of Fall. 

"C'mon, twist again, twisting time is here..." 

When I initially saw Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire at 9 weeks pregnant, he told me that by the calendar (the date of my last period), my due date was yesterday, Oct 15th. When I had my 20 week ultrasound, the baby's head, femur and other leading indicator body parts estimated his birth date at Oct 20th. Dr. Z decided to stick with the earlier due date because of my active lifestyle, my stubborn disposition may have had something to do with it as well.

Now that Oct 15th has come and gone, I am looking at Oct 20th, and perhaps later. I don't have any physical indication that the baby will be coming in the next few days. My water hasn't broken, I'm still feeling really good. Its a bit more difficult to bend over to put pots and pans away, or to get off the couch, but honestly I was more physically exhausted three or so weeks ago than I am now. I am sleeping much better and this has me perplexed. To get this far, and have no idea when this child will first send me into a hurricane of pain before making his arrival makes this tale of two due dates yet another one of the woes of pregnancy that nobody told me about.

Since I found out I was pregnant on Valentines Day, I've earmarked October 15th as the due date, I've told countless friends and relatives, I arranged for my maternity leave to begin based on that date...only to find out once the day approached that perhaps Oct 20th is more realistic. That's like telling a half marathon runner that they took a wrong turn, and they are actually on the full 26.2 mile marathon route...and its raining, and they have blisters and diarrhea has set in.

That half marathon runner better be compensated with the oversized race t-shirt and cheesy medal bragging that they finished the FULL race. I haven't thought of what my conciliatory prize should be for sticking this pregnancy out another week...but I'm thinking it belongs in the "medal/natural stone" family. Perhaps the confusion of two due dates is the orgin of the push gift. Hint, hint, hubby my ring size is still a 6, don't let my pregnancy bloated digits fool you.

You guessed it, tomorrow is my due date, and so I chose Little Orphan Annie's theme song to dedicate to today's pregnancy status. The hubby and I are fielding phone calls from anxious friends and family wanting to know when they can meet our little boy (this morning's first call was from my 2yr old nephew who demanded to know where the baby was and when he would be outside of my belly...when I say demanding I'm not kidding, he was yelling at me).

When we went to bed last night, the hubby and I took account of the waning hours of our quiet household. We laid in bed and talked for 45 minutes about nothing in particular. I went to sleep knowing I would really miss that luxury of a free flowing chat with him. Just before I drifted off to sleep, he rolled over, threw his arm over me and I compiled a mental note of all the friends, family and neighbors who have volunteered to babysit for us...you can expect a phone call.

The sun'll come out tomorrow, so ya gotta hang on til tomorrow, come what may.
Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always a day away!

We're on the 5 day countdown until our baby boy arrives and I've noticed over the last few days how forward folks are in asking me how I'm "progressing". Yesterday I was playing with Murph Dog in the backyard when my neighbor and her husband came over and she quickly asked "are you dilated"? Hey, keep your mind off my private parts lady, I don't ask you if you have hemorrhoids!

There is really no way to avoid the question, as the thinning and subsequent opening of the cervix is the really only indicator of active labor, but its a little unsettling to be questioned about the status of your whoo-hoo. Once again my sheltered Catholic upbringing serves me well, as for my own well being, I would like to consider the theory of stork delivery. I haven't put a lot of thought into the process of delivering a baby myself. I choose to remain naive to those things I cannot control in this regard.

Wish me luck and a may my IV overflow with pain killers...