"Thanks, Mom"

I know that new mothers (and GrandMarys) are emotional, tears flowing at the least little thing. But this Proctor & Gamble commercial airing during the Winter Olympics pushes all the mama-buttons, whether you're holding a newborn or having a glass of wine with your adult child. Grab the tissues, and have a look:

Settling in

At 4 1/2 days old and having spent 2 1/2 days at home, Liam is settling in nicely. He's tried out his cradle, his swing, his Pack and Play, and his changing table. You know, just checkin' everything out to see what's what and what suits him at a particular moment. He's pretty easy-going, being at the eat/sleep/poop-pee stage of life (which I'm rapidly approaching on the other end . . . ), and is easily soothed with swaddling, swinging, jiggling or bouncing.

It took three of us to change the first poop-diaper. Stuff was spewing, oozing, spraying everywhere, and we were all laughing so hard that the task took far longer than necessary, I'm sure. It really does take a village. At least when Old Faithful and oil gushers are coming out of a tiny baby. A pity there were no extra hands to record the hilarity on the Flip Cam.

Mama's already found the favorite blanket, and Liam is perfectly happy swaddled tightly therein. We've discovered that many "newborn" clothes are made for newbies weighing 9-10lbs, instead of Liam's comfy 6 1/2, although the Gerber onesies (0-3 mos.) fit fine. However, he is quite the dapper little guy, whatever he wears.

The exercise ball that Kate used during early labor to help move things along has come in handy as a place to bounce as we hold the baby. It's a different motion than rocking or gliding, and Liam loves it. Plus, I think I might be getting a little exercise out of it.

Flowers, visitors, and gifts arrive daily, adding to the festive "Welcome Home!" atmosphere. All in all, I think GrandBoy is settling in nicely.

GrandBoy's First Day

You'd think that a newborn could get a little peace and quiet after spending all those hours being squeezed out of that warm jacuzzi he lived in for almost 10 months. Not so.

Oh, the measuring and weighing and battery of tests! A guy barely drops off to sleep or has a chance to greet his many visitors, when in swoops someone to take him away to test his hearing or PKU or a photographer bounces in to take pictures. Sheesh!

Then there's the steep learning curve of how to maneuver his hands out of a tight swaddle or figure out the whole breast-feeding thing. Face it, things were a lot simpler in the mommy-jacuzzi.

But the little guy with the face of an angel and a headful of fabulous hair is a pretty smart cookie. He survived Day 1, usually in the cuddle of Mama or Daddy or GrandMary or friends who dropped by the hospital for a first glimpse at the little feller. He's catching on fast.

Which is good, because his second 24-36 hours will throw him another little curve: going home. No more nurse interruptions or hospital surroundings. It shouldn't be too hard for him to settle in to his adorable nursery, chill out in his swing or cradle, and start living the life of Liam.

You're doing great, kiddo!

Life of the party at an hour old!

Liam's first visitor was friend Lindsey, who found her way to the Labor & Delivery Room right after GrandBoy was born. Bearing yellow flowers and another camera to document the recent arrival's title of "Newborn Host With the Most," girlfriend Lindsey gave new Mama someone with recent birthin' experience to share the joy with.

Thanks, Lindsey, for being a part of this special moment!

Introducing Liam Samuel Richeson

He's here! Liam Samuel Richeson

February 21, 2010

12:03pm

Weight: 6lb 9oz

Length: 19 1/2"

Headful of black hair. Precious beyond belief.

Mama and Liam both healthy. Good job, Kate!

More pictures to follow! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

A good night's labor

After a rough evening that included grunts and tears, Kate decided the pain was just too much, so around 12:30am we all headed to Piedmont Hospital. Thanks to my iPod stopwatch, I kept track of the contractions for about an hour and a half. As we raced to the hospital, all were hoping that she was dilated enough for the much-anticipated epidural to relieve the pain. And, yea!, she was!

Kate's room is fabulous #14 - larger than my apartment in NYC, and with all the comforts of home. The overnight team of nurses was wonderful, especially Christy (or Kristie?), who was with us all night. The anesthesiologist was terrific - probably the most loved guy on Floor 2 at Piedmont.

Once Kate had the pain meds, life became much better. She rested, though didn't really sleep, while I crashed on the pull-out sofa and Greg hit the floor. I didn't sleep much, off and on for a couple of hours. I got up and tended to Kate, talked, straightened the bedding, as such. We let Greg sleep.

After the 6am check-in from Christy, we had to say bye-bye to her until she comes in for her shift tonight. I took the opportunity to go back to the house to take care of the dogs, brush my teeth, change clothes, and pick up the laptop. Got back to the hospital around 9am, and now things are moving fast.

It's almost time for the Big Push. She's ready to go. Fresh bag of epidural goodness is in place. GrandBoy will make his entrance soon!

Reporting for (labor) duty

Daughter is officially in labor. She hasn't slept much over the past few days, so the doc wants her to nap as  much as possible (gave her some pills to help), then get up and move around when she's not catching up on sleep. Father-to-Be hasn't had much rest, either. Heck, after I got the phone call at 1:30 this morning asking if I could catch an earlier flight from NYC to ATL, I've only grabbed about 8 winks myself.

GrandBoy dutifully waited for me to hit town (yes, I caught an earlier flight), and for that, we all thank him. Now, we can get down to the business of pulling him into the world. Well, OK, I don't have any control over that, but I do have a list of duties to perform while the soon-to-be parents do the heavy lifting.

1. Back rubs for Kate during contractions
2. Special errands for Greg (oooh, mysterious!)
3. Keeping up with dishwashing/clothes washing
4. Doggie duties - feeding, etc., for four dogs
5. Being available when needed
6. Staying out of the way the rest of the time

Duty list may expand once GrandBoy hits the air. Until then, taking care of his parents is the best that I can offer.

One ringee-dingee, two ringee-dingee

The telephone can be a pregnant woman's best friend or most tiresome enemy. As Daughter says, one of the benefits of being nearly due to deliver is that everyone answers your phone calls on the first ring. The downside, however, is that every call the almost-mama makes or answers is assumed to be The One.

Way back in 1983 I was still pregnant 13 days past my due date. About 4 days over that pregnancy-expiration date, I just stopped answering the phone or making phone calls. "Still pregnant?" "Have you had the baby?" "When are you going to the hospital?" I got tired of answering: Yes. No. I don't know. Those phone calls were a weary reminder that, dammit, my baby was not adhering to the schedule.

A few days ago Daughter called and the first words out of her mouth were "No, this isn't it, I'm not having the baby." Like she'd forget to let me know if she had? "Oh, yeah, we had him last Thursday. He's fine. Did I forget to call?" I assured her that she didn't have to say that to me. It would be really clear if the call was Big News.

When and if she has to call hubby or me for a ride to the hospital, I think it will be obvious. Either: "It's time, let's go!" or "Heeee-heeee-hoooo-hoooo-heeee-heeee . . . " (the old breathing technique, don't ya' know).

News travels much faster and broader than it did in 1983. Kate's dad called his side of the family. My mother called our side of the family. Whoever got the phone calls was expected to pass the news along the line to everyone else. For other folks, they just had to wait for the birth announcement to come in the mail.

We'll still use the telephone for immediate family. But almost as soon as the phone calls happen, the news will start speading via email, blogs, Twitter and Facebook. Snail-mail birth announcements will go out in a timely fashion, but most folks will have heard the news by then.

The tiresome-telephone phase will stop as soon as GrandBoy makes his grand entrance. But for now, the phone is just another reminder that it hasn't happened yet.

For my part, I'd just like to thank GrandBoy for hanging on until GrandMary can get to Atlanta. I leave early tomorrow morning. Once I land, son, you can come anytime. Then we'll put that telephone to good use.

Tiger-Water Boy or Tiger-Fish Boy?

I'm not much of a horoscope follower, but there's been some speculation in the family about whether GrandBoy will be an Aquarian like his dad or a Pisces like, well, like I don't know who. (Mama-to-Be and GrandMary are both Taureans - soooo full o' bull.) Anyway, if he gets here by February 19th, we'll have a little Water-Bearer. After that, he'll be our little Fish.

But whether a water-boy or fish-boy, according to Chinese astrology, he'll be a little Tiger (the animal, not the skirt-chasin' golfer). Bravery, competitiveness, and unpredictability are traits of all born in the Year of the Tiger. They're born leaders, intelligent, and always on the alert.

To clarify even more, 2010 babies are "Metal Tigers," as opposed to Water, Wood, Fire, or Earth Tigers born in other feline years. Metal Tigers are assertive and sharp and tend to jump to conclusions. Not sure how a Metal Tiger personality gets on with an Aquarian water-bearer or Pisces fish element, but we'll just have to wait and see.

Who knows how all this stuff lines up with the moon and the stars? In the Chinese Zodiac, Mama is a Boar, Daddy is a Goat, and GrandMary a Rabbit. Water-Bearers and Bulls and Fish and Tigers, Goats, Boars, and Rabbits. Quite a menagerie. With water involved. Only time will tell if all these signs and elements can co-exist in relative peace.

So, little Tiger-Boy, we're looking forward to your brave, intelligent, unpredictability, whether you're carrying water or swimming in the deep blue sea.

My little one, little one

I'm very weepy today. I keep humming that great Harry Belefonte/Alan Greene/Malvina Reynolds song that became famous as a Kodak commercial.

Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl
Going out of the door.

There's more, of course. I'm working on a little "Turn Around" project, which I'll share on the blog when I'm finished, but for now this will have to do. Believe it or not, this is the only baby picture of Kate (her baptism) I have with me in NY. She has all of her baby albums, with pictures I must scan into my computer while I'm in Atlanta.

Anyway, it's not just the song that's set me off. As we get closer to her delivery date, I can't help but think that sweet, tiny little girl, born on a glorious day in May, is about to have a babe of her own.

I don't have a son, but I can't help but think that the mama's (soon to be grandmama's) experience of a daughter giving birth is a uniquely emotional one. This has no bearing whatsoever on the gandbabe in question - all the babies are dearly loved. But traveling through preganancy and childbirth with the woman you carried and gave birth to is a powerful thing.

I never for an instant forget what Kate was like as a newborn . . . as a toddler . . . as a spirited little girl. She's still all those things - a look, a laugh, a gesture is often the mirror of her much younger self.

And now she's going through with GrandBoy what I went through with her.

Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own.

The Waiting Game

Any news? That's the #1 question I'm asked these days. GrandBoy's not officially due until February 22, but he's dropped into position and could come any time now. Daughter says one of the benefits of being close to delivery is that everybody answers her phone calls on the first ring.

I'm hoping Baby Boy holds on until the afternoon of the 20th. That's the date of my plane ticket to Atlanta, and my pocketbook would appreciate not having to cough up the extra dough to change it. But I am ready to head South as soon as I get the call. I live in great hope that neither LaGuardia nor Atlanta airports are having weather issues when that call comes.

Ever hopeful that Daughter makes it to her next doctor's appointment on Tuesday the 16th, we should have more delivery option information after the doc sees her. Yes, she can go any time, but Mr. Liam may feel he needs to cook another week or so. Or he could be like his mama and just want to stay put for as long as possible before the Induction Police arrive. Just making the appointment to be induced was enough to let his mama know that the jig was up, and she had to come on out. She made her appearance two days before that appointment came to fruition. ("Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'. I'm comin'.")

My feeling is that GrandBoy just wants his GrandMary to save that extra flight-change money so that she can spend it on something cooler - like whatever shiny new thing catches his fancy. Maybe.

Till I get the call - that I'll answer on the first ring, from Daughter or Son-in-Law heading for the hospital - I'm playing the waiting game.

And the countdown begins

Now that the calendar says February, we're taking bets on when GrandBoy will make his appearance. The due date is the 22nd, but after Kate's visit to the doctor this morning, any time between now and the end of the month is feasible. She's having contractions, but not the hurtin' kind, and the baby has dropped over the past few days.

I'm thinking the week of the 15th, though my ticket home is on the 20th, and if the little bugger could hold out till then, I'd be grateful (though Mama might not be).

Watch this space for updates!

Choosing a name

No, not the baby's. I'm talking about my "grand" moniker. Well, let's look at some choices, shall we? I guess if I'm boring, I could be BlandMa. In trouble? BannedMa. At the beach? SandMa or TannedMa. No, none of those work. I think the word "ma" is the problem (yeah, like "banned" isn't?). "Ma" sounds old to me. Run-down. Sleeves rolled up, doing the washing by hand. Hold that thought.

"Grand" is fine, but "fabulous" is better. Alas, "FabMa" doesn't roll trippingly off the tongue. UberMa sounds too controlling. Most Excellent Ma sounds, well, not very Southern. OK, let's stick with "Grand" and hope I can live up to it.

Of course I could abandon "grand" and "ma" altogether. We already have a "Nana" and a "Gigi" in the family, so those are out. (First come, first served on grandparent names.) I'm not the Mimi-type. MeeMaw, Gommy, Nonni? Er, no. OK, back to "Grand."

Time for a confession. Kate and I decided my grandparent name when she was 9 or 10 and in her American Girls doll-phase. Kate's first American Girl doll was Samantha. We loved reading the books that told her turn-of-the-century story. It was in those stories that we found my grandmother name. Samantha was an orphan who lived with her grandmother . . . wait for it . . . Grandmary. Bingo! Perfect name. Of course, it really helps if your name is Mary, as mine is. Grandmary probably wouldn't work for, say, a Susan or a Tiffany.

So, forget the "ma" and "Mimi" and "Gummy." I'm going with Grandmary. Now, let's see how the grandbabies actually pronouce it! But, as the saying goes, I don't care what they call me, as long as they don't call me late for supper. But they'd better not forget to call at all.

Grabbing onto the the techno-grapevine

As a very proud, soon-to-be grandmother (OK, the term "grandmother" still causes me to wince a little), I'm trying to come up with the fastest and easiest way to get the word out when GrandBoy makes his appearance this month. Of course, Ma and Pa will send out the official, printed birth announcements, but this old lady has a lot of friends to whom she'd like to herald the good news in a less formal way. (Formal usually equals a gift of some kind, right?)

Now, the family will get phone calls, of course, with email back-up. Hospital pictures will fly back and forth, as well.

But friends and co-workers don't need or expect a phone call. So I'm thinking the best way to notify my pals is via an email birth announcement. Is this a tacky idea? I hope not, because in this day and age, email is usually the quickest, most reliable form of communication other than a phone call. I trust there are some cute, FREE designs out there that I can grab online.

Has anyone done this? Recommendations? Just looking for the best way to broadcast the glad tidings when the time comes.

Internet Grandparenting

I think now is the perfect time to be a grandparent. Thanks to the internet, Skype, social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, Flip cameras - well, we have all sorts of goodies at our disposal for connecting with children and grandchildren or learning from the vast amount of grandparent-wisdom that's alive and well in the world today.

Back in the fall I had two friends who were on grandbaby-watch the same weekend, one in New York and one in Alabama. Since both friends are on Facebook and had the clarity to send up regular status updates, I could follow what was going on in real time - when the daughters got to the hospital, how the labor was going, and when the little angels were born. It was wonderful and exciting to share in these two joyful experiences.

Those of us who live far away from our children really appreciate the connection that technology affords. Lil Sis, who live in California, keeps in touch with her granddaughters in Georgia via Skype. I think the grandkids even call the computer "Nana." I'm looking forward to hooking up a webcam and jumping on the Skype bandwagon, too, since I'm in New York City and the grandbaby's in Atlanta.

Another friend led me to Grandparents.com, a treasure trove of information, advice, and stories. Why reinvent the wheel, eh? We no longer live in a world where grannies sit around with each other knitting and baking cakes (though many of us do knit and bake). Websites like Grandparents.com serve as a good source of trusted advice when you don't live close to your circle of friends.

And the little Flip Camera is just fabulous. I got Daughter and her Hubby one for Christmas (thanks to a great deal on an HD model at Amazon), and we've enjoyed practicing with it during showers and family visits in anticipation of when its little memory card will be filled with GrandBoy video. The video can go right to the computer or TV.

If you know of more great grandparenting websites, blogs, or tekkie-toys, let me know. I'd love to build a good resource list here.

Post-showers nursery update

Blankets and gizmos and wall art and toys - all the things that make a nursery cozy! After the baby showers, ma- and pa-to-be, got busy decorating. See how lovely? It's all coming together, so Little Mama can rest easy. Her babe will have all the necessities in case he makes an early appearance.

Liam-to-be, you are such a lucky little feller! So much love from your family and friends has gone into welcoming you into the world. The gifts they've brought are just a little reminder of all that love.

Showers of blessings

Last weekend was filled with showers. Not the wet kind (although the rainy floodgates opened on Sunday), but the eating, laughing, gift-giving kind. The womenfolk who will welcome Baby Liam into the world gathered to ooh and aah over tiny blue onesies, animal-print footed pjs, and feats of modern technology/engineering in the guise of Pack 'n Play, Ocean Wonders Soothing Seas Aquarium, and Diaper Genie.

But it wasn't just about outfitting the baby or decorating the nursery. In fact, the best part of the showers was spending time with great women (and a few little girls) who take delight in celebrating the good fortune of the soon-to-be Ma and Pa, as well as the hope and promise of new lfe. And it was another excuse to gather, laugh, talk, and, of course, eat.

Saturday's baby shower was for all the girls in the family, hosted by Jessica, Lizzie, and Aunt Cindy. I'll call that one The Bully Shower, in honor of the Bully Bartow women from whom many in attendance came. There was a fine representation of the Brennan women, as well (Honorary "Bullies"), even Aunt Kathy from New Jersey. It featured two fabulous cakes - one (edible) of chocolate with white and blue frosting (great baby booties!) and one (inedible) of tiny rolled up diapers layered with ribbons, baby wash, and diaper creme.

Highlights are too many to name, but here are a few:

• Seeing Baby Liliana and Baby Aidan, both born December 7. A couple o' cuties!
• Sweet tears as gift from Grandma Brennan, who died in September, was unwrapped. Marie always gave the new babes a silver cup engraved with his/her name (Kate has one of her own). She made sure a cup was provided for Kate's baby.
• The darling gift-unwrapping assistants, Sarah and Tallulah. Tallulah even explained how to use some of the gifts. Ahhhh, experience!
• The great hot cider, yummy sandwiches and fruit salad, and a de-lish cake (the real one, not the diaper one).

Sunday's shower was for Kate's girlfriends, hosted by Betsy and Sally. It was brunch at Cherokee Town Club in Atlanta, complete with Mimosas (woo-hoo!), potato soup, fabulous salad, and yogurt with fruit. Sally created the lovely flower centerpieces for the tables - gorgeous! It was a beautiful, fun day, despite the pouring rain.

Highlights, again, too many to list, but here are a few:

• Lindsey's story of the parking lot/money exchange with Greg to purchase the incredible designer purse/diaper bag.
• A roomful of amazing young women, running the gamut of life-experiences, having a great time celebrating Kate as a soon-to-be mama.
• Mimosas! We all needed a drink. Or two.

• Girlfriend talk. Is there anything better?

Thank you, thank you to all the women who planned and/or attended the baby showers. Now, where can I get one of those Ocean Wonders things to put next to my bed? Hm?

Baby Boy Palace

With about a month, more or less, to go, the nursery is coming together. It's furnished with something old, something new, something borrowed, and lots of blue. It helps to have quality hand-me-downs, like a crib from cousins Rowan and Tallulah and soft newborn clothes from 1-month-old cousin Aidan. From safe and sturdy to cozy and plush, the room is filling up with the essentials, as well as the nice-to-haves.

From GrandMary's standpoint, the best feature is the new glider/rocker and ottoman. It's like a swing for adults. I see lots of hours rocking away in there, whether or not Baby Liam needs soothing.

With two baby showers this weekend, the Baby Boy Palace will become even cozier. And it will be lovely and comforting to be surrounded by wonderful things given in love to our new little guy.

Only one word for it - Amazing!

When I was pregnant with Daughter in 1982-93, we thought it was a big deal to be able to have our bellies smeared with really cold jelly and have the doctor run a little plastic gizmo around our circumference to hear the baby's heartbeat. (I was going to describe the little gizmo as a computer mouse - then I remembered that we didn't have the computer mouse back then. Gizmo will have to do). Anyway, the sonogram sounded like something out of a World War II movie, minus the sonar beeps. Listening to the baby's heartbeat - Amazing!

Ultra-sound was just coming into its own and was only used if there were suspicions about the position or health of the baby or to monitor the mother in some way. All was (thankfully) normal, so this technology that's used as a matter of course now wasn't used on me. I have no ultrasound pictures of Baby Girl in my womb.

Let's go back even before the sonogram stage. When I first got an inkling that I maybe, possibly, might be pregnant, I had to make a doctor's appointment to find out yea or nay. No peeing on an over-the-counter stick - nope, I had to go to the doctor to pee on a stick to find out. I know - The Ancient of Days. And I'm talking 1982.

Fast-forward to 2009. Daughter and her hubby found out she was pregnant in the privacy of their own home, courtesy of a pregnancy kit available to one and all at the local CVS or Walgreen's. They had ultra-sound pictures of the baby within a month. A couple of months later, another picture revealed that the baby is a boy. And when I went home to Atlanta for Thanksgiving, Daughter, Hubby, and I got to see live, 3D images of the little guy - the shape of his head, his nose and chin and little hands.

And those 3D images of Grandboy were amazing! Amazing in the same way that 26 years earlier the sound of his mama's heartbeat was amazing. It's hard to imagine what technology will offer to Grandboy's generation. But it will be, I'm sure, amazing.

Playing Favorites

Newsweek has an interesting article about the effect of a grandmother's genes on her grandchildren and how that might influence how dear granny feels about those grandbabies.

It has to do with the X-chromosome, how it's passed down from mama to child, then to grandchild. Can Grandma be more closely related to some of her grandchildren than others? Well, I guess if you play the DNA game, it might appear so. It goes something like this:

• Paternal grandmother (doesn't apply to me, I don't have a son, but let's see where this leads) - mama passes one of her X's to her son. He then passes his one X to his daughter, his Y to a son. Theoretically, paternal grandma is twice as close to her granddaughter (one of those two X's are hers via son) as to her grandson (nada, since grandma has no Y to contribute). Are you following this?


• Maternal grandmother (that'd be me) - mama passes one of her X's to her daughter. There's a 50/50 chance grandma's X is the one passed on to either a grandson or granddaughter. Ergo, maternal grandma is related to her grandchildren (sons and daughters) equally.

Hm. So according to this strictly DNA stuff, the daddy's mother will play favorites with her granddaughter, but not with her grandson. The mother's mama will be equally preferential. Did I get that right?

Of course, this is just the science end of things. We grandmas and grandmas-to-be know that loving those grand-chirruns has nothing to do with who gets the most X from whom. It's all about love, love, love.

Does video-watching = genius?

Seems the Disney folks who produce the incredibly popular video series, Baby Einstein, are giving refunds for the videos because they do not - I repeat, do NOT - turn your babies into geniuses simply by watching them. Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood has been fighting the video-babysitter industry for years and got to the brink of a class-action lawsuit before Disney caved to the refund idea.

OK, here's this Baby Boomer's take on all this. The whole Baby Einstein-stuff is just silly. So are all those programs trying to teach a 3-month old to read. C'mon, parents. Do you really want tiny kids to be smarter than you? No, you do not. (And you certainly don't want your teenager to be smarter than you, but there's no real danger of that, unless you're trying to relive your youth at the same time. But I digress.)

However, I'm not sure I buy into the whole "no commercials, no television, no pop-culture" push, either. My own dear child was raised on lots of Disney videos - Mary Poppins, Sleeping Beauty, Pinocchio, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, and on and on. Often times a parent does need a video- babysitter, whether just running to the bathroom or fixing dinner, and who better than Julie Andrews, Jiminy Cricket, Flora & Fauna, and Angela Lansbury to entertain your tot? Comedy, drama, color, music, and life-lessons - with no over-arching goal of making the viewer into someone who can invent a great way to destroy mankind.

And have you ever met one of those no-TV kids as an adult? Completely clueless as to pop-references in literature, newspapers, and daily conversation with peers. Kinda creepy.

Here's the thing. There's nothing wrong with great entertainment, which usually teaches more than anything pointedly "educational." The real bonus is that the good stuff, the classic stuff, captures the parent as well as the child. I will gladly snuggle next to my little one to watch and laugh and sing and explain Meet Me In St. Louis or Worst Witch, something I'd never do with a Baby Einstein video. Oooh, yes. I'm talking parental-engagement here. Good parenting does take constant presence, explanation, and cuddling with children.

So those of you with stacks of Baby Einstein videos, pack 'em up and send 'em back to Disney for a refund. And remember. The real Baby Einstein didn't watch videos to become Big Guy Einstein.

Baby-Mama at 22 weeks

Has parental sanity hit the skids? Nursery rhymes are GOOD for kids.

This Mary is quite contrary after reading that a goodly number of parents in Britain find nursery rhymes too old fashioned to share with their children. What?!

Granted, losing sheep, falling asleep under haystacks, and tumbling down hills after fetching buckets of water aren't experiences our internet, video game-playing kids can readily relate to. Still, must we sacrifice time-honored verbal rhyming skills and pure imagination to the reality hip-hop gods?

Mother Goose rhymes can be read, said, or sung from the time you first hold your dear little one. The rhythms and verbal patterns are soothing, however "disturbing" the subject matter. As children grow, those rhymes serve as little mini-stories, giving a child the opportunity to use imagination to fill in the gaps or change the endings.

Many complain that nursery rhymes and fairy tales are too dark and disturbing. Well, phooey. I wonder how many children actually find it scary that Humpty Dumpty couldn't be put back together or that Jack broke his crown? I remember finding those things hilariously funny as a child. I mean, we're talking about a giant egg here, people. And kids fall down (or slip on banana peels) all the time. Physical humor. I especially loved the blackbirds that snipped off the maid's nose. Ha!

I do hope the statistics don't reflect reality here in the United States. As crazy as they are, these rhymes and fairy tales are part of our heritage, connecting one generation of parents with another. They are woven into a common cultural knowledge that transcends age and generation. Fortunately, folks in the know about language and culture fully support the world of Mother Goose.

As long as I'm around, my grandchildren will have nursery rhymes and fairy tales poured into their little ears. Consider it a gift from one generation to the next, stretching back over time as it moves forward.

Yes, contrary this Mary may be. But I also have a garden full of silver bells and cockle shells. Oh! And pretty maids all in a row!

October Sonogram

And proof we have a little boy on the way!

(Sorry so blurry. I'll scan them at work and post clearer shots later.)

Baby Advice a la Mode

Advice pertaining to the health and welfare of mothers-to-be and their babes seems to change as often as fashionable hemlines go up or down. I haven't read any pregnancy/childbirth books lately (why would I?), but I do hear the chatter about all that is correct or not correct these days from my first-and-only-born-now-pregnant daughter.

I remember when I was pregnant way back in 1982-83, ingesting any form of sodium nitrate/nitrite was considered - at the very least - bad form. Call me a bad mommy, but I did eat bacon and hot dogs on occasion when I was preggers. And gave birth to the healthiest little cuss you've ever seen.

One of the big things now is no raw/undercooked fish. Poor daughter loves her sushi but has been staying away from it while pregnant. I do wonder, however, how the Japanese manage to birth healthy babies while continuing to consume sushi and sashimi with a bun in the oven. Hmm.

And the safety measures built into toys, furniture, and clothing have changed as well. Too many to name here. Again, I wonder how we all managed to survive the old stuff, eh?

My advice to my daughter and any other pregnant lass out there is this: By all means be as safe and healthy as you can possibly be for yourself and your baby. Eat right, get some exercise, and put away all the enticing breakables until your child is 18.

However. Women have been giving birth for eons, eating everything from dirt to raw wild animals and putting their precious darlings in holes dug in the ground, rickety cradles, and baby beds with slats spaced more than what is now considered safe. Guess what? Civilization has endured! Babies have thrived!

One of my favorite TV shows is "Mad Men." Pregnant character Betty Draper smoked and drank (real liquor, not just wine) and then gave birth to a healthy baby boy. That's the way it was in the 50's and 60's. I certainly do not advocate smoking and drinking during pregnancy, but you know what? Millions and millions of perfectly healthy babes (Baby Boomers, anyone?) were born of mothers who chain-smoked, ate bacon, and drank cocktails throughout those nine months. We're smarter now (I hope), but babies are tougher than we give them credit for.

Do what seems right to you. Trust me, by the time your own sweet children are bearing your grandchildren, the rules will have changed yet again. No telling what baby furniture will look like in 30-40 years. And yet, your little sweetums will make it just fine in whatever the current fashion of safety might be.

Relax. This baby business ain't new.