Words I never want to read again: “Last week, doctors found a Lego piece in a ball of fungus in a boy’s nose.” The unlucky child who had a Lego trapped in his sinuses was 6-year-old Isaak Lasson of Salt Lake City. Wait for it … it’s been up in there for three years! The doctor only discovered the foreign object because the kid was having severe sinus problems. Issak doesn’t remember lodging the wheel up his nose, but he remembers sticking other things in his nostrils. “I put some spaghetti up there, but that was a long time ago,” he told the doctor. Well, as long as he’s not doing it anymore. We’re happy that the Lego is out of his nose and that Isaak is feeling much better. [Orlando Sentinal]
Two years ago, a New Jersey mom filmed an educational video about breastfeeding for Parents magazine’s website and their associated YouTube channel.
Then, to MaryAnn Sahourey’s great horror, some asshole took the video, spliced it with pornography of a woman who looked like Sahourey having sex, and reposted it online. The kicker is that both Sahourey’s name and the the name of her infant daughter were posted along with it. Keep reading »
The moment in a child’s life when he or she learns about genitalia is a precious one, second only to the moment when they realize everybody poops. I know it is weird, but I can still remember when I learned that my older brother had a penis and I didn’t. This little girl Bailey just found out that Daddy has a penis and Mommy doesn’t. She’s still a bit confused about Grandma, however. At least Bailey is learning the real words and not “wee wee” and “hoo hoo,” which drive me crazy. [HyperVocal]
The death of Irish novelist Maeve Binchy earlier this week has inspired a lot of articles, most of them warm tributes to her kind heart, quick wit, and writing ability.
British novelist Amanda Craig took a different tack.
In a piece published today by The Telegraph, she wonders whether Binchy might have been a better writer if she had been a mother. The subtitle is even more blunt, asking: “Does a female novelist need to have experienced motherhood to truly understand human emotions?” Keep reading »
No, that’s not the world’s creepiest ice cube — it’s “Shape Of An Angel,” a 3D ultrasound. An MRI scans your fetus and a tiny replica is printed out in a 3D printer, hovering midair in clear resin and encased in a jewelry box. (Because why not display your 3D fetus to guests inside a jewelry box?) Oh, and the whole thing will set you back $1,230.
Growing life is beautiful, yes, but a tiny plastic fetal token strikes me as raising the fetus to the level of fetish object. I hope this doesn’t take off, because looking at ultrasounds just got that much more uncomfortable! [Geekosystem]
I had the fantasy in my head that a lot of heterosexual, child-wanting women probably have: I’ll date someone single and unattached, we’ll get married, and pump out a couple of squirts together. It’s not that I thought there was anything wrong with dating someone who had already been married and/or mated. My mother is my father’s second marriage and he came with three children as part of the package.
But I thought my mom and dad’s story had been really anamolous. A union like theirs was abnormal when I was a kid; there weren’t a lot of blended families out in the suburbs when I was growing up. Today, though? With the divorce rate being what it is? Divorcées with a kid or two are all over the dating pool.
So, never in a million years did I think I would fall for a divorced guy with two kids. And even though it had never occurred to me to dive into that end of the dating pool before, I’m cool with it. I love kids. I’ve wanted kids of my own since I was a little girl pushing around my dolls in strollers. (In fact, Le Ex-Boyfriend’s lack of interest in having children was one of the reasons I tossed him to the curb.) That O’Boyfriend is an engaged, responsible father who has actually been to the American Girl Store of his own volition is attractive to me.
The question is: when is the right time to meet the little critters? Keep reading »
Growing up, I was never given any restrictions regarding whether or not I could wear makeup, or how much makeup I was allowed to wear. My parents, who are admittedly pretty laissez faire by most standards, are also the type to choose their battles, and what I put on my face was just not one of them. I expressed interest in products from a hilariously young age — home videos show me at five talking extensively about my mother’s fancy body wash like a regular Suri Cruise — and for all but a few grease-filled tweenage years, I’ve been beauty-crazed ever since. That’s why I find it so difficult to fathom why mothers, particularly those under the relentless and unforgiving eye of the media spotlight, receive so much flack for letting their young daughters wear a little bit of makeup. Keep reading »
Breasts. You may have heard of their alternate use as feeding mechanisms for tiny offspring. You may also have heard of their function in women’s sexual pleasure. But let us not forget the real purpose of a lady’s chesticles: sexual pleasure for her husband.
And all that time a new mama spends nursing? That’s time her hubby isn’t playing with his boobs.
Thus seems to be the logic behind baby bottle manufacturer Bittylab’s recent tweets advertising their product, called Bare, which read “New baby? Reclaim your wife” and “Feeling like you’re competing with your newborn for mommy’s attention? Meet BARE air-free #babybottles.” Keep reading »