I'm thinking about this because a friend of mine is a newspaper columnist, and recently wrote her column on this very subject. And I'm angry. I'm angry because my favorite show may be delayed even longer with this stupid strike. Sure, I'm a writer, too, but my need for television outweighs any potential solidarity I might show.
I'm talking about LOST. Yes, I'll admit it - I'm addicted to LOST. I know the numbers by heart. I've cried when main characters died (RIP Mr. Eko!) and cheered when good things happened (way to go finding the van, Hurley!). And I even guessed what was going on in the season finale before it all came down at the end.
All of which is why I'm pleading with you now, Damon Lindelof. Get OFF the picket line and back to work!! I, as a work-from-home mom, spend most of my day either a) entertaining a baby; b) frantically interviewing and writing stories to bring in a little cash and c) run around frantically picking up from the baby tornado that constantly terrorizes my living room.
When my baby finally crashes at 8:30 or so every night, I collapse on the couch, hoping for just an hour of good-ole television viewing to calm my nerves (that an a glass of mommy juice - aka cabernet). THAT, my friend, is why you need to go back to work. I NEED you. I NEED my LOST fix, and it's bad enough you're not giving me that until February. But to delay it even longer may make me go all Ben on you.
And I don't have to tell you what that means. So I don't care how you settle it, just do it and give me 24 more fixes - I mean episodes - before the summer.
Ugh. Thank God for Chuck. That's all I gotta say.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Breast Is Best
This topic came up recently on the message board I scour daily for juicy tidbits about the babies born the same month as mine. The topic being that studies show breastfed babies grow up to have greater IQ's and be healthier than formula-fed babies.
There have been several studies that show this, so it's really not new information. But each new study stirs the pot of the breast-versus-formula debate that seems more pronounced in the US than anywhere else.
Just a few of the generalized arguments include: breastfed babies are healthy and smart. Formula-fed babies experience more illness. Women who formula feed are selfish and didn't try hard enough. Women who breastfeed are strange and flaunt their ability to do it in public.
Some of the arguments are proven by fact - studies show breastfed babies are, on average, healthier than formula-fed. They have higher IQ's. The rest is more public opinion and swayed by the general zeitgeist at the time (don't you love that word? Zeitgeist?) In the '70s, when I was born, breastfeeding was looked down upon and most pediatricians recommended formula.
I wonder if it had to do with the feminist movement - you know, taking back your body and reclaiming it for womankind and all that. The mood in this country shifted, and now it's highly encouraged to breastfeed. In fact, it's pounded into your brain pretty much from the moment you conceive. You MUST breastfeed.
And I completely understand the reasons behind it. I don't dispute the benefits, for sure. But what gets to me, as one of those overly sensitive formula-feeding moms, is the implication that I may not be doing what's best for my child, in a health and developmental sense.
I think that's why the debate - if there really is a debate - continues on. No one likes to think they are harming their child's development. We all want to have super-intelligent, healthy babies (probably to make up for our own shortcomings).
But at what cost? Do we continue to breastfeed if a child isn't thriving on it? The example used is that in nature or third-world countries, there is no other option. Sure, these babies then die. That's the problem. No one would agree to that.
What if the mom is depressed and can't handle the stress and anxiety that comes with breastfeeding (it sure isn't a piece of cake). Should she continue to force it and be miserable to the point of resenting her own child? Especially during the time when everyone tells you to enjoy it because it goes by so quickly?
I don't think there are any easy answers to these questions, and as long as there's formula around, we will continue to debate the merits of "the easy way out" versus "the best option." I guess the ultimate question is, does anyone really care once your kid starts eating real food and cow's milk?
There have been several studies that show this, so it's really not new information. But each new study stirs the pot of the breast-versus-formula debate that seems more pronounced in the US than anywhere else.
Just a few of the generalized arguments include: breastfed babies are healthy and smart. Formula-fed babies experience more illness. Women who formula feed are selfish and didn't try hard enough. Women who breastfeed are strange and flaunt their ability to do it in public.
Some of the arguments are proven by fact - studies show breastfed babies are, on average, healthier than formula-fed. They have higher IQ's. The rest is more public opinion and swayed by the general zeitgeist at the time (don't you love that word? Zeitgeist?) In the '70s, when I was born, breastfeeding was looked down upon and most pediatricians recommended formula.
I wonder if it had to do with the feminist movement - you know, taking back your body and reclaiming it for womankind and all that. The mood in this country shifted, and now it's highly encouraged to breastfeed. In fact, it's pounded into your brain pretty much from the moment you conceive. You MUST breastfeed.
And I completely understand the reasons behind it. I don't dispute the benefits, for sure. But what gets to me, as one of those overly sensitive formula-feeding moms, is the implication that I may not be doing what's best for my child, in a health and developmental sense.
I think that's why the debate - if there really is a debate - continues on. No one likes to think they are harming their child's development. We all want to have super-intelligent, healthy babies (probably to make up for our own shortcomings).
But at what cost? Do we continue to breastfeed if a child isn't thriving on it? The example used is that in nature or third-world countries, there is no other option. Sure, these babies then die. That's the problem. No one would agree to that.
What if the mom is depressed and can't handle the stress and anxiety that comes with breastfeeding (it sure isn't a piece of cake). Should she continue to force it and be miserable to the point of resenting her own child? Especially during the time when everyone tells you to enjoy it because it goes by so quickly?
I don't think there are any easy answers to these questions, and as long as there's formula around, we will continue to debate the merits of "the easy way out" versus "the best option." I guess the ultimate question is, does anyone really care once your kid starts eating real food and cow's milk?
Monday, October 29, 2007
And it's not even Christmas
This weekend we trekked to the local mall for what apparently is a parent rite of passage: the studio photos. We picked J.C. Penny's portrait studio, mainly because I'm lazy and that's the coupon I had.
Holy crap. This is one of the worst forms of torture a parent can go through. I would choose waking up to a crying baby every 10 minutes in the middle of the night to this. We had an appointment at 12:20 p.m., and of course, everything that occurred up until that point was designed to get us there on time.
Not sure why we bothered, considering we had to wait a half an hour. It's like they expect you to be there on time, but then they can make you wait as long as they deem appropriate torture. Which is fine, if you're by yourself and not with a baby whose mood changes with the breeze.
My little pea pod did fine waiting, but since she had been changed and fed at home, she started to get tired. And the room got warm with all the people crammed into the waiting room, which made her lull off to sleep even more.
So when it was our turn, we had a bag full of really cute clothes to put her in, a well-dressed mom and dad and ... a sleeping baby. I wanted smiles and happy pictures - instead I got sleepy and borderline crabby baby.
But I have to say, the photographer was amazing. A young woman, she trilled her tongue, clapped, patted my baby and did everything she possibly could to get her attention without making her cry. I was exhausted just watching her. And our shoot lasted about 20 minutes. She had to repeat that same exercise every 20 minutes for eight hours. She should be paid half a million dollars for that job.
Once they're done, you have to wait 30 minutes so they can snazz up all your photos in the hope of getting you to spend more money, versus sticking with the $3.99 a sheet traditional portrait sheets. Ha. You can't get me that easily, J.C. Penny's!! So finally we go back, only to find the amount of children and parents in the waiting room has doubled. We fight our way through, and finally pick our photos, hand over the plastic, and leave. All told, what I thought would be an hour-long venture turned into 3 1/2 hours.
And to think I'll do it all over again in a couple of weeks. Hey, a baby's gotta have Christmas photos, right?
Holy crap. This is one of the worst forms of torture a parent can go through. I would choose waking up to a crying baby every 10 minutes in the middle of the night to this. We had an appointment at 12:20 p.m., and of course, everything that occurred up until that point was designed to get us there on time.
Not sure why we bothered, considering we had to wait a half an hour. It's like they expect you to be there on time, but then they can make you wait as long as they deem appropriate torture. Which is fine, if you're by yourself and not with a baby whose mood changes with the breeze.
My little pea pod did fine waiting, but since she had been changed and fed at home, she started to get tired. And the room got warm with all the people crammed into the waiting room, which made her lull off to sleep even more.
So when it was our turn, we had a bag full of really cute clothes to put her in, a well-dressed mom and dad and ... a sleeping baby. I wanted smiles and happy pictures - instead I got sleepy and borderline crabby baby.
But I have to say, the photographer was amazing. A young woman, she trilled her tongue, clapped, patted my baby and did everything she possibly could to get her attention without making her cry. I was exhausted just watching her. And our shoot lasted about 20 minutes. She had to repeat that same exercise every 20 minutes for eight hours. She should be paid half a million dollars for that job.
Once they're done, you have to wait 30 minutes so they can snazz up all your photos in the hope of getting you to spend more money, versus sticking with the $3.99 a sheet traditional portrait sheets. Ha. You can't get me that easily, J.C. Penny's!! So finally we go back, only to find the amount of children and parents in the waiting room has doubled. We fight our way through, and finally pick our photos, hand over the plastic, and leave. All told, what I thought would be an hour-long venture turned into 3 1/2 hours.
And to think I'll do it all over again in a couple of weeks. Hey, a baby's gotta have Christmas photos, right?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Every diplomatic meeting should include a baby
If you have children, you know the thrill of that first laugh. My baby laughed for the first time recently, and I just about burst into tears, it sounded so good (my child has officially turned my rather cynical being into complete mush).
So now I'm convinced - there would be no wars, no political impasse and no harsh words between countries if babies were involved in negotiations. Every time you have a bilateral or multilateral negotiation, bring a baby and make them laugh. Who can be angry or want to bomb another country with laughing babies around?
See. I solve the world's problems from my couch. It's not that tough.
So now I'm convinced - there would be no wars, no political impasse and no harsh words between countries if babies were involved in negotiations. Every time you have a bilateral or multilateral negotiation, bring a baby and make them laugh. Who can be angry or want to bomb another country with laughing babies around?
See. I solve the world's problems from my couch. It's not that tough.
Must...Not...Spend...Money....
Freelance writing is really a fancy way of saying I stay at home and occasionally write a story or two here and there. It's nice work if you can get it. The only problem is, right now the well is a little dry.
I have some gigs lined up, and I've already written a few stories - but it's a bit of a shock when you turn in a story and they say 'thanks, it's for the December issue, so we'll send you a check then.' Gulp. OK, that's two months away.
Once I get in a groove the money will come in the same time I'm sending stories out, so it'll all be good. But right now I've got to tighten the belt, since I'm not bringing home the payday.
Here's the problem - there's not a whole heck of a lot to do during the day, especially with a 3 month old. So you look for places to go and things to do to keep you occupied and the little one busy.
Well, "things" take money. Like lunch, for example. It's a nice break in the day to go out for lunch. But it costs moolah. This is the quandry of the stay-at-home mom. Stay in the house and go crazy (there's only so much laundry, cleaning, Internet surfing, etc. you can do), or get out and spend money.
But I really can't complain about this set up, because it's working out pretty well for us. Thank goodness, too, for my mother-in-law, who watches the little squirt while I get some work done. Now if only my little one would stop spitting up on her whenever she comes over! That's no way to thank your grandmother!
I have some gigs lined up, and I've already written a few stories - but it's a bit of a shock when you turn in a story and they say 'thanks, it's for the December issue, so we'll send you a check then.' Gulp. OK, that's two months away.
Once I get in a groove the money will come in the same time I'm sending stories out, so it'll all be good. But right now I've got to tighten the belt, since I'm not bringing home the payday.
Here's the problem - there's not a whole heck of a lot to do during the day, especially with a 3 month old. So you look for places to go and things to do to keep you occupied and the little one busy.
Well, "things" take money. Like lunch, for example. It's a nice break in the day to go out for lunch. But it costs moolah. This is the quandry of the stay-at-home mom. Stay in the house and go crazy (there's only so much laundry, cleaning, Internet surfing, etc. you can do), or get out and spend money.
But I really can't complain about this set up, because it's working out pretty well for us. Thank goodness, too, for my mother-in-law, who watches the little squirt while I get some work done. Now if only my little one would stop spitting up on her whenever she comes over! That's no way to thank your grandmother!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Ha. I laugh at you, Halle Berry
It's a lovely thought, in theory. Gorgeous movie star Halle Berry (who is from Cleveland originally, by the way) is pregnant, as everyone knows (congrats to her, by the way!). And a friend of mine just sent me a link from People magazine about Berry's intentions to be eco-friendly when her new bundle of joy arrives (read the story here: http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20152636,00.html).
I love the fact that she treasures her earth. There need to be more people like her. But eco-friendly disposable diapers do NOT exist, no matter what the publicists in Hollywood say (sure Halle, that exists. If it doesn't, well make some up for you). They may be organic, which means they don't contain bleach, but they're not eco-friendly.
In other words, they won't chafe your little bundle's sensitive booty, but they WILL sit in a landfill for years while they attempt to break down. It's a fact of life, and I wish it weren't true. Every time I empty our stinky diaper pail I wish it weren't true. Between the water we use washing bottles and clothes, the disposable diapers and the bottled water we use to mix with formula, my household is single-handedly killing the earth.
But I figure this only has to go on for a year with the bottles and the bottled water, and hopefully 2 to 2 1/2 years with the diapers (preferably 2!). They say a child will go through about 5,000 diapers before they become potty-trained. Maybe there is something to elimination communication after all!!
I love the fact that she treasures her earth. There need to be more people like her. But eco-friendly disposable diapers do NOT exist, no matter what the publicists in Hollywood say (sure Halle, that exists. If it doesn't, well make some up for you). They may be organic, which means they don't contain bleach, but they're not eco-friendly.
In other words, they won't chafe your little bundle's sensitive booty, but they WILL sit in a landfill for years while they attempt to break down. It's a fact of life, and I wish it weren't true. Every time I empty our stinky diaper pail I wish it weren't true. Between the water we use washing bottles and clothes, the disposable diapers and the bottled water we use to mix with formula, my household is single-handedly killing the earth.
But I figure this only has to go on for a year with the bottles and the bottled water, and hopefully 2 to 2 1/2 years with the diapers (preferably 2!). They say a child will go through about 5,000 diapers before they become potty-trained. Maybe there is something to elimination communication after all!!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Balls in the air
OK, I stole that from one of my all-time favorite movies, "One Fine Day." But it's true, this whole mom thing is a juggling act, between the baby, trying to work from home and taking care of the house.
You wouldn't think it would be so difficult. My baby isn't even three months old yet, it's not like I'm chasing her around the house. She can't even roll over. And yet there are days that the clock strikes noon before I'm even out of my pajamas. Sometimes I don't brush my teeth until 4 o'clock. And I've eaten lunch one time - count it, one time - so far this week.
This week has been rougher than most - deadlines abound in my freelance gig, and we have contractors stopping by periodically to give estimates on a bathroom project. To top it all off, my worst enemy has returned - gas. My little one is in between nipple stages, which is apparently a fate worse than anything I can think of at the moment.
We seem to be getting the gas under control, and the stories are flying out the door left and right to satisfy those deadlines. I think we've seen the end of the contractor estimates for now. So the only thing left to do is - well, wash and dry the thousand bottles that have stacked up, and the laundry, and vacuuming up all the dirt tracked in by the contractors. Oh, and God only knows where the cats have left hairball presents recently.
It never ends! Where's that Calgon when you need it?
You wouldn't think it would be so difficult. My baby isn't even three months old yet, it's not like I'm chasing her around the house. She can't even roll over. And yet there are days that the clock strikes noon before I'm even out of my pajamas. Sometimes I don't brush my teeth until 4 o'clock. And I've eaten lunch one time - count it, one time - so far this week.
This week has been rougher than most - deadlines abound in my freelance gig, and we have contractors stopping by periodically to give estimates on a bathroom project. To top it all off, my worst enemy has returned - gas. My little one is in between nipple stages, which is apparently a fate worse than anything I can think of at the moment.
We seem to be getting the gas under control, and the stories are flying out the door left and right to satisfy those deadlines. I think we've seen the end of the contractor estimates for now. So the only thing left to do is - well, wash and dry the thousand bottles that have stacked up, and the laundry, and vacuuming up all the dirt tracked in by the contractors. Oh, and God only knows where the cats have left hairball presents recently.
It never ends! Where's that Calgon when you need it?
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