Trick or Treat, Give My Parents Something Good to Eat?

With Halloween less than a week away, MacFamily finally bought pumpkins for carving. Other preparations have been made by ordering a personalized treat bag (MacBaby's real name not depicted) and purchasing a black and orange shirt that reads "Candy Pirate. Surrender Ye Candy." He will be wearing this shirt every day this week, since it will never again fit him.

We have decided not to dress him in a costume, since, as we like to say around our house, he's a baby, not a clown. When he's old enough to assert what he would like to wear, he can wear a costume. In the meantime, we're not going to dress him as Yoda or a car freshener.

I do think it would be fun to take him to a few neighbor's houses for trick or treating. However, since he has no teeth, will they just assume that we're in it to get candy for ourselves?

How you do handle Halloween with your two-foot terror?

Biology vs. Reality

October is National Work and Family Month and as such there's a lot of talk on the internets about women in the workplace.

An article on MSNBC today remarks that finding childcare falls to the mom, even when both parents work full time. Those in favor of work-life initiatives argue that men need to step up in fighting for the cause. I agree, both parties should be responsible for all aspects of parenting. But, there's one problem -- biology.

Even before our children our born, the balance of power is automatically set up so that women are "in charge" of child rearing. We grow children in our bodies. If we choose to breastfeed, we are the sole providers of nutrition for up to a year. I believe this sets up the inequality that women continue to face as they raise their children.

In a perfect world, I would love for my biology to reign over reality. If I stayed hom, MacBaby would never receive formula, could sleep according to his biological clock and would not be rushed out of the house five days a week when he would prefer more time in his Johnny Jump Up.

But, the reality is, I'm a working mom. I want to invest in my 401(k) and save to help MacBaby with his college tuition. I work now for our family's future.

I hope awareness to these issues will result in more flexibility work environments. The results would benefit moms, kids and dads. I just hope our biology doesn't stand in our way.

Don't Blame Me, Blame My Brain

This week, I was running low on gas. After work, I decided to stop at the gas station before I picked up MacBaby from my parent's house. Stopping on the way home would just prolong his screaming in the car.

Instead of driving past my parent's house the one block to go to the gas station, I pulled into their driveway. On my ten minute commute from work, I forgot where I was going.

I went inside and fed MacBaby, then went to fill up the car. As I was pulling out of the gas station, a man waved me down. I forgot to put the cap back on the gas tank and close its door. Not that this was the first time I neglected to put the cap back on, but on this particular occasion, I blame my baby brain.

The woman's brain shrinks three to five percent during pregnancy and supposedly extracts within six months of giving birth. I'm still waiting. . .

Why I Hate Ricki Lake

This is the post I've been meaning to write since I started this blog.

Despite my wretched morning sickness, tendency to pick up viruses and huge feet, I had a normal pregnancy until my 37th week. I began to feel dizzy at work on a Wednesday and went pregnancy triage center at the hospital where I would give birth. There, the staff took my blood pressure and looked for protein in my urine. All signs pointed to preclampsia.

I went to my scheduled doctor's appointment the next day and she recommended I stop working and stay on "couch rest." By Friday, they recommended inducing me, which I declined, wanting to bake the baby a little longer. On Monday, I went to another scheduled doctor's appointment when she told me that I would not get another week out of the pregnancy. Ok, then, we decided, let's get it on with.

MacDad and I went home, showered, gathered our hospital gear, went to a nice dinner and headed back to the maternity ward. My inducement started at 11 p.m. that night with pitocin and a cervix softener.

We got nowhere fast. The next afternoon, I finally dilated to 5 and my water broke on its own. Through the night, though, there was no progress and by 4 a.m. they declared it time for a c-section. Although I was scared, I was just as scared for a vaginal delivery and though that my doctor was advising me to do what was in the best interest for me and my baby.

Less than two hours later, MacBaby was breastfeeding like a champ. He did not descend because of his size (22 inches, 8 lbs and 14 oz) and moreover, the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck several times. Who knows what would have happened if we had insisted on a vaginal delivery. I still feel the induction and c-section were the right calls. I'm of the "better safe than sorry" mindset.

Fast forward a few weeks. MacDad was out of town and I was up with my newborn. Flipping channels, I found The Business of Being Born.

Ricki Lake, a huge proponent of midwives and home births, produced the film. The documentary followed women who opted out of hospital births and cited worrisome statistics about rising c-section deliveries. Perhaps more doctors are performing c-sections for convenience sake, but I take issue with the doctor quoting as saying that women who have c-sections don't have the same rush of love hormones for their children and therefore all of humanity is in the crapper. Way to help a new mom feel bad about herself.

Yes, my son was pulled out of my stomach and not down there, but I can only imagine that I love him no less. Ironically, the director of the film, who was pregnant during the making of the movie, planned a home birth, but had a hospital birth because of complications.

So, Ricki Lake, while home birth may have worked for you, don't hate on those who have hospital births. We're still good mothers. We still love our children.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Last year, I sported one of MacDad's sweatshirts. The green hoodie, he informed me, had been around since his high school days. At that time, he said, he couldn't have imagined his pregnant wife wearing it.

We have a blanket in our living room I purchased on a whim several years ago at a Pier 1 outlet. The soft, fuzzy and deeply discounted addition is now one of MacBaby's favorites. If you had told me when I bought it that my future six-month-old son would love to languish on it, I would have given you a big eye roll, accompanied by a "whatever."

It's so strange the things we have in our lives that take on new significance as our family grows. I wonder if there's a twinkle in my eye that will some day get a kick out of a rug that we have yet to purchase or a soft sweater we have yet to wear.

Start Your Week With a Twist

Slate is featuring Freaky Fortnight in which a staff member is swapping places with his stay at home/freelance writer wife. It should be an interesting read.

While MacDad and I both work, his job is more rigorous and I would not want to change places with him, nor he would he be interested in that prospect. He frequently travels and every time I grill him with "what would you do if I was out of town for a week," he responds with "you can't."

I look forward to following this experiment and seeing how each spouse responds to the shoe on the other foot.

While you're on the site, Slate hosts a weekly discussion of Mad Men. It's sad that I need one of my favorite shows explained to me, but they do a thorough job.

Happy Monday!

Around the Web

• A closer look at the demographics making up stay at home moms. Apparently, they're young, uneducated and ethnic. So, I guess I fit in with other older, educated white working moms? Only read the comments if you want to know how the yahoos think.
• We just got a jogging stroller. According to this article, now we actually have to start jogging to be fit. Wah.
• Diapers are now being used to sell toys. I have to admit, I did think it was weird that Elmo was on newborn MacBaby's tiny diaper, especially since he couldn't even see that far.
• Tips on H1N1 and pregnancy.
• A dad takes his five year old to McDonald's for the first time. MacDad and I agree that MacBaby will not be eating there anytime soon. It was good to read about this issue, which I'm sure will come up as there's one right down the street from our house.
• Pregnancy, weight gain and body image issues. Been there, sister.
• And, more intersection of obsessions - Mad Men on Sesame Street

Watching Television Through a New Lens

Being a new parent changes your perspective on a lot of things, including my favorite television shows. (Potential spoilers ahead.)

On Mad Men, a big development this season is the addition of Eugene Scott to the Draper household. After a horrifying birthing experience, Betty is now home with the little guy. In Sunday's episode, Don was off with Sally watching an eclipse and hitting on her teacher. Betty was busy flirting with a politician and subsequently writhing on a fainting couch.

Pre-baby, I may have been able to go along with some suspended belief, but I kept thinking, where is the baby? They showed a stroller once in the kitchen, but we heard nary a "wah" from the little guy. I know Mad Men has more important issues to tackle than the intricacies of diaper changing in 1963, but at least integrate Eugene/Scott into the family a little bit.

I finally caught up with Dexter Tuesday night, who also welcomed a son, Harrison. The plot of the first episode centered around Dexter's sleep deprivation. He stays up late with his three month old. Two things occurred to me: Rita, Dexter's wife, must not be breast feeding and three month old aren't up for hours in the middle of the night. So, there goes the set up for the whole season.

Further along in the episode, Rita tries to start some hanky panky with Dexter. Ha! Oh, Hollywood. You are too funny! Like that would ever happen with a three month old under the roof, not to mention their other two kids. Are there ANY women in the writer's room?

Although I would never shoot my son as punishment, Modern Family seems more realistic. Like last night, when one of the dads checked to see if his wife was in the room before declaring himself the head of the household.

Not every show has to emulate real life, but it's nice to be able to relate to characters and situations once in while. If we ever get to the point where Curb Your Enthusiasm mirrors our life, I know we're in trouble.