Now this makes sense

Fancy restaurants in San Francisco and New York City are taking the local and sustainable foods movement seriously and banning bottled water. As one restaurant owner tells the NY Times, “Filling cargo ships with water and sending it hundreds and thousands of miles to get it around the world seems ridiculous."

I couldn't agree more.

Who doesn't love a parade?

Imagine the ultimate home town parade. Now imagine that home town is an upscale suburb full of multi-million dollar homes. And there you have the River Forest Memorial Day Parade, an hour's worth of floats sponsored by local businesses, high school marching bands, community groups in matching t-shirts and youths representing their tumbling classes, Little League baseball teams and scouting troops.

There were vintage and current fire engines, ladder trucks and ambulances (with sirens blaring), antique cars, motorcycles, custom bicycles and a unicycle. There were stilt-walkers, jugglers, dogs and horses. Oh, and because apparently money is no object, there were planes flying in formation overheard! Z was utterly, completely enraptured, particularly with the drill team/cheerleaders ("Look Mommy, ballerinas!") and men on horseback ("Can I pet one?").

And the cherry on the sundae? A local homeowner is a train enthusiast who built his very own miniature railroad around his yard. And he was offering all the kids free rides.


Click here to see even more parade pictures.

Website review: Light Iris

Have you ever Googled "sore nipples" and come up with on overwhelming list of possible links--with maybe a few kinky sites thrown into the mix? I haven't. In fact, while Google periodically sends freaky searchers to my blog, I've never had any trouble finding answers to my parenting, baby care and personal health queries using everyone's favorite search engine. That said, when Parent Bloggers Network asked me if I'd like to check out a new search engine for expectant and new moms, I (both expectant and a new mom) jumped at the chance. Light Iris uses the Google search engine, but it optimizes the results for the swollen and sleep-deprived, providing users with a culled-down list in a clean, well-organized layout. And its pink and green! Because we're girls!

So I put Light Iris to the test, comparing its results with my old-standby Google's results. I didn't brainstorm possible searches, I just remembered to check in with Light Iris with I was doing a mommy-related search (sticking with Google when I needed to look up a restaurant address or find a Shoebuy promo code). Here's what happened.

Search: "Repeat Breech"
I've been borderline panicky as week after week ticks by and baby number two refuses to turn head down. My midwives and the OB who supervises their VBAC patients all assured me there was no reason to believe I'd have a second breech baby, but what mother can resist the pull of the Internet when it comes to medical self-diagnosis and treatment?
Results: Both Light Iris and Google results focused on repeat c-sections following a breech birth. Both included a couple of links to ways to turn the baby (yes, I've tried 90 percent of them) and highlighted a blog post from Life of an Albuquerque Mommy that reads "4% of women have a breech baby. The chances of having a repeat breech baby increases," an interesting tidbit that contradicts what I've heard and was unfortunately not backed up links to any study.
Winner: Light Iris by a hair; its results were better organized on the page

Search: "Potty training boot camp"
We've circled June 1 on the calendar, and we've spent the second half of May telling Z how many days are left until we say "bye-bye to diapers." Having determined that reverse psychology wasn't working with 2 1/2 year old daughter, we're under plenty of pressure to get her using the potty. Baby sister arrives in July and Montessori preschool starts in the fall. And yes, the school requires that kids be toilet trained.
Results: Again, the results were fairly comparable, with both search engines placing Sesame Workshop - Toilet Training as the lead result. Unfortunately, the article's "don't worry about it, maybe the preschool will accommodate some accidents" attitude wasn't what I was looking for. I found better results with some mommy bloggers' first-hand accounts, including a tip I plan to use: letting the kid play with a bowl of warm water with a special toy in it while sitting on the potty!
Winner: Google, for finding me an inspiring blog post.

Because Light Iris and Google are both using the same basic search engine, you aren't likely to find substantially different results. What Light Iris does is cull down the returns and organize them in a clean, less-overwhelming layout. Which is probably very welcome when you're looking up "projectile vomiting" at 3am. If you're hysterical, hormonal and sleep-deprived, it makes sense to turn to Light Iris. If you're an information hound with a few more minutes available to analyze Google's results pages, you'll have more to choose from.

See what other new and expectant moms are saying about Light Iris here. Or click here to learn how you could win a free 2-day pass to the BlogHer Conference right here in Chicago.

Just half of our Memorial Day weekend fun

I posted to the Chicago Moms Blog about our adventures at the Garfield Park Conservatory and Chicago Antique Market. What I left out was that after the antiques market we headed to Crust, the Midwest's first certified organic restaurant. When we arrived in Bucktown, we noticed a leak on our back left tire. We called USAA Roadside Assistance, which arrived to change the tire for our spare just as we were finishing lunch.

Josh planned on getting our tire repaired on Tuesday, but wouldn't you know it? Today, as we were leaving a BBQ at our friends Stacie and Bob's house, our spare was completely flat! What are the chances?

Anyway, with Bob's ability to change a tire and Eric's portable air pump, we were able up get enough pressure in the tire to make it home. I guess we'll be getting two tires repaired tomorrow.

Update 5/29/07: Turns out we're just plain unlucky. Flat #1 was from a big piece of jagged metal. Flat #2 was from a nail. Just so happened that they were 2 days apart after years of no flat tires.

Consumer generated drivel

I've blogged before about how I think consumer-generated advertising is a flash in the pan, and it looks like the venerable NY Times is ready to back me up. In today's article, The High Price of Creating Free Advertising, Louise Story reports on the Heinz ketchup contest currently running on YouTube.

Shockingly, the American public is not creating the caliber of advertising brand managers are used to seeing from their ad agencies. The average joe with a camcorder is on a mission to amuse his friends and hopefully score a cash prize, but he doesn't have access to the high-end equipment, lovely models, food stylists and location shoots that make traditional commercials look good. Never mind throwing strategy to the wind.

Instead, Heinz is spending an arm and a leg promoting a contest that is netting them images of consumers brushing their teeth and shaving with the famous condiment. And now they've got to wade through the drivel and find a few entries worthy of showing on TV (which will cost money too).

Want to see exactly how bad these entries are? Check it out.

Countdown to number two

Someone at Rookie Moms is reading my mind. Today's post, Prepping for Baby #2, lists the must and nice-to-haves on hand before the arrival of a second child. Here's her list, with my comments in italics.

• Car seat: cleaned and installed (Due Date - 4 weeks) Check! We'll just need to pull it out of storage and strap it into the car.
  
• Breast pump: parts and bottles cleaned, pump assembled, tubing replaced. I've got to order some new valves and tubes for my trusty Ameda Purely Yours. Plus, I'll probably want to get new parts for the Medela PIS a friend is loaning me so that I don't have to tote the Ameda pump back and forth to work every day.
• Baby clothes: cleaned and installed (DD - 4 weeks); I liked knowing that all the mini clothes were in their proper size designations so I could see if there were any gaps in coverage. We've got the holes plugged, thanks to a generous bag of hand-me-downs. Now I just need to wash 'em...Oh, and buy a dresser to put them in!
  
• Newborn diapers: (DD - 3 weeks); [This] was something else that I felt like I really needed in order to be prepared. I asked Josh to pick up some newborn diapers at Target using the Huggies coupon from the Sunday paper, but I don't think he feels any urgency whatsoever.
  
• Stroller for two: purchased and on hand (DD - 2 weeks); I would now hold out as long as is humanly possible. A pregnant woman cannot possibly evaluate a stroller properly, largely because she can’t fold and lift it well. Now I completely agree with Rookie Moms' advice here. I'm going to borrow an aging Graco Duoglider and shop for a double stroller when I'm up and about and looking for an outing (something tells me we'll be running to Target and/or BRU once or twice in those early months).

Me again. My other must-have is a bassinet or bassinet-equipped pack-and-play so that #2 can sleep in our room for a while and/or nap downstairs where I can keep an eye on her. Nice-to-haves include a new, lightweight sling, Avent bottle nipples, pacifiers, Infant Tylenol, diaper rash cream and more burp cloths.

Say what?

Z: When I grow bigger like a big boy to be a Daddy, I’m going to have brown eyes.
Me: Do you think you’re going to grow up to be a Daddy or a Mommy?
Z: A Daddy.
Me: Um, OK. What are you going to do when you are a Daddy?
Z: I’m going to start the bath!
Me: Your Daddy usually starts the bath, doesn’t he? What else are you going to do?
Z: I’m going to pee with my Daddy penis.

Rosie vs. Elisabeth

Although it is amusing to see lame-duck Rosie and lame-o Elisabeth lose their tempers on The View, this clip also worth watching for Joy Behar's litany of outrages our President has committed since coming into office.

What kind of Playground Parent are you?

MetroDad has a hilarious post up called The Eight Types of Playground Parents, in which he details the stereotypical behavior of The Executive Dad, The Peter Pan Dad and the Crazy PTA Mom, among others. As many of the comments have pointed out, he only forgot one major group--the vegan/anti-vaccination/LLL moms.

My husband spends a lot more time at the playground than I do, so I'll have to see how accurate he thinks these personas are. I suspect the female stereotypes aren't as accurate away from the coasts. Midwesterners are just a lot more chill. But I think the male stereotypes are right on target. And I I'm going to go ahead and say that Josh is about equally divided between Hipster Dad, Peter Pan Dad and The Hoverer.

I've got something new to read

Check out Gawker's new blog for women, Jezebel. It's like Cosmo without the lobotomy, US Weekly without the copious drool and BUST without the self-righteousness.

So many calendars, so little coordination

I've got my work calendars. One's on the cube wall. And one's electronic, hooked into Lotus Notes. I've got my Crackberry, which is connected to my Lotus Notes calendar. None of my work calendars correspond to the kitchen wall calendar. And it has no relation to the wipe-clean "countdown to no more diapers day" calendar outside of Z's room. Which makes me an excellent candidate for the BusyBodyBook Calendar giveaway announced on Chicago Moms Blog.

Digging for diamonds

Z figured out how to pick her nose this week. I've caught her with her finger up a nostril a few times in the past few days. The first time, I tried sounding casual, "Hey sweetie, what are you doing?"

"I'm just taking out boogers, Mommy," she replied, wiping one on my husband's side of the bed.

"But we don't put our fingers up our nose. You can get the boogers with a Kleenex."

"It doesn't work as well," she said, pointing out the obvious as her finger headed back upward.

Waiting for the train

After a week of working late, I left the office right at rush today. Naturally, my train was delayed. But I had fun playing with my camera in the Clark & Lake Blue Line station.

Is this the life?

Only until Z wakes up from her nap. Even our bed is no longer a safe haven for our 10-year-old tabby Silver. The birds on the wall are from Blik. Real birds, like the ones outside our now-open windows, are much more exciting.

Yahrzeit

My father died five years ago yesterday. I remember receiving the call from my mother. She dialed me from a satellite phone from a fairly remote area in Albania, the country where my dad was serving as the U.S. Ambassador. I was shaken by the news--he was only 55 and seemed to be in good health--but I didn't grieve, not just then. Like so many others in shock by the loss of a loved one, I was distracted by the work that needed to be done. Family members needed to be called. A memorial service needed to be planned. My mother's life was suddenly without direction; while she usually managed to stay employed full-time, she'd uprooted herself (and us) every few years as Dad's assignments took us from place to place.

As it happened, my mom stayed in Albania to oversee a local memorial service (Joseph Limprecht was something of a celebrity there) before accompanying Dad's body home to Washington. My sister and her fiance flew in from Australia, and I helped the State Department coordinator plan a memorial service in D.C. We ended up choosing to have the service at the DACOR-Bacon House, where I'd been married just 2 years earlier.

It wasn't until a few months later that I really came to grips with my Dad's death. I was never terribly close to my father--if anything, I regret we didn't have the chance to deepen our bond. But I often wonder what Grandpa Joe might have been like.

Z says

Z was looking over my shoulder at the NY Times website, where there was an inset photo of Shrek.
"Do you like Shrek?"
"No," she replies. "I just like sprinkle cookies."

I guess licensing pays off even when the kid doesn't care for the property.

When the clock strikes midnight...

Last night. 11:56pm. I hear my daughter call out from across the hall, "I need to throw up." I'm out of bed in flash. She seems cool and comfortable as I pick her up for a hug.

"Do you want to rock on the chair or go throw up in the toilet, Z?"
"Throw up in the toilet."

She leads over the can, dipping her head in so far I can hear her bangs swish in the water. I pull her up to wipe off her face and... she vomits all over herself, me and the bathroom floor. Bright red pomegranate juice and pizza puke. I strip off her pajamas and we sit on the side of the tub. She's got her head resting on my shoulder when the second wave hits. I catch some of it in the bowl we use for rinsing off shampoo.

A cool sponge bath and fresh pajamas and she's back in bed.

12:36. "Throw up. Throw up, Mommy." This time Josh races to her room. Only she's already soaked her pillow. As Josh wraps up the sheets with the clothes soiled earlier and heads downstairs to start a load of laundry, I encourage Z to drink a few sips of water. We cuddle, clean off her face and read a story. She willingly lies down in bed.

This time Z sleeps peacefully through the night, but we don't. We're too tense, listening for the next summons.

Come on baby, let's do the flip

In the past week and a half, I've held frozen peas to my belly, shined a flashlight on my pelvis, laid on the bed with three pillows under my butt and watched TV perched on a stability ball. I visited a chiropractor. I closed my eyes and visualized a tiny backflipping baby diving down toward my pelvis. I've drunk glass after glass after glass of water.

And every few hours I touch my belly, hoping not to feel the telltale bump that is baby's head. It moves from the left side to the right side, and sometimes it's just over my belly button. But it's never where I want it: head down. It sounds crazy, but I just want a kick in the ribs... instead of a push to the bladder.

Yup, my baby's breech. At 31 weeks. Intellectually, I know I still have time. But because my first kid never turned vertex, I'm freaking out a little bit. With Z, I tried everything to get her to turn. Handstands in warm water. Hypnosis. A touch of moxibustion (which we quit doing because it made the house reek of pot). I even signed up for an external version at 37 weeks, and trust me when I tell you that was no picnic!

Because she was breech, Z was delivered via a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks. I never experienced labor. I was rolled into an overly bright, freezing OR at Northwestern Memorial Hospital at 3:20pm and I heard my daughter cry out at 3:44. I didn't have the natural birth I'd hoped for, but I got a healthy, beautiful baby who's been the light of my life. My recovery was quicker than expected, and aside from some side effects form the anesthesia, it wasn't a bad experience altogether.

But I figured I'd paid my dues. I did the ultimate-intervention birth and now it was my turn to have a minimal-intervention birth. For a variety of reasons, location being a big one, I switched to West Suburban Midwives in Oak Park and planned a delivery at West Suburban Medical Center's Alternative Birthing Center (aka the ABC). I found a doula-in-training to give me confidence. I've been taking a prenatal yoga class and I even remember to do kegels once in a while.

I want a VBAC so badly, but I feel selfish and whiny for caring so much about how my second daughter enters the world. My sister just gave birth on Mother's Day, making her the first woman in two generations to deliver the old-fashioned way. I want what she had, and what so many of my friends have experienced. I want to nod along knowingly when women talk about labor and pain and childbirth.

Hell, I want this baby to flip over before I flip out. Because obsessing is not productive. And frankly, it's not my style.

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Cross-posted at Chicago Moms Blog, where you can read the rants of raves of plenty of other mothers.

The break up

The Break Up
Uploaded by geertdesager

This great video for Microsoft Digital Advertising Solutions showcases how little advertisers are listening to their consumers. I'd like to think the below-the-line work my agency does is less about shouting at consumers and more about fostering a meaningful dialogue, but we've done our share of couponing too.

Awwwww....huh?

Last night, as I gave Z her bedtime snuggles in the rocking chair, she gave my belly a hug and a kiss and asked, "When the baby comes out, can we all cuddle together?"

"Yes," I said.

"And is she gonna come out your belly button, Mama?"