What I've been saying all along

The American Academy of Pediatrics has come out with a statement that what children really need for healthy development is not structured activities and educational gadgets and videos but "more good, old-fashioned playtime." As the article on CNN.com quotes Dr. T. Berry Brazelton as saying, "Children overscheduled with structured activities 'are missing the chance they have to dream, to fantasize, to make their own world work the way they want it.'"

Superego

One of my favorite parts of being a parent is listening to Z's internal dialogue. She doesn't just think things, she usually says out loud what's running through her head. And I love to hear her remind herself of the rules and guidelines Josh and I have set out for her. Here are a sampling of the ones currently in heavy rotation:

"You can share." (And I have to give the girl credit--she's doing a great job of sharing all her toys with her 15 month old houseguest.)
"We're gonna take turns."
"Dat's Mommy/Daddy's ___________. Don't touch it!"
"Gonna stand on dis? No, dat's not safe!"
And last but not least, "We don't hit anyone."

Down on the Farm

Playgroup hit The Children's Farm in Palos Park for a hayride to the pumpkin patch followed by a picnic and a visit to the farm, where they could pet chickens, pigs, goats, bunnies, ducks and a cow.

We have the footage

Is there any thing cuter than two babies taking a bath together? Z and Mizz (Franny's 15 month old) took their first co-ed soak together this evening. Naturally, the two bathing babes were accompanied by too many camera-toting adults (this in a bathroom about 4 feet by 5 feet).

And in case you're wondering if "What's that? That's his penis!" was caught on tape, it was. At least eight times. These kids are going to be so completely embarassed come the preteen years. I still haven't entirely forgiven my mother for reintroducing me to my high school classmate Brendan (whom I'd last known when I was three) with "You two used to go 'bump-bump' in the playpen."

After the bath, the kiddos raced around squealing in their birthday suits. Z got such a workout she sucked down 8 ounces of water before bed.

Pretty dress

I wore a dress today largely so that I could convince Z to put on this adorable polka-dot number that she received from Beth B. for her 1st birthday. It finally fits! And while Mommy's dress doesn't much resemble this one, we had some fun talking about how Z's wearing a pretty dress "just like Mommy!" Here are a couple of other images from our early morning photo shoot.

It's easy being green

The NY Times has a great article on the lazy man's guide to saving energy. Since I feel guilty every time I change a diaper or send another bag full of unread catalogs into the recycling bin, I'm going to adopt a few of author Andew Postman's suggestions. And I've already got him beat in the compact florescent lightbulb and programmable thermostat departments! Heck, we all sleep better in the cold (and our heat is programmed to kick in at 5:30, just in time to warm things up before we throw off our down comforter).

Now I just need to convince Josh to switch off the basement lights when he comes upstairs and help me remember to shut down all of our "energy vampires" before we head to bed.

Books

How good is Winter's Bone? Let's just say I started reading it on my commute home yesterday and I ended up at the end of the line. Yes, I missed my stop. And then I missed the stop after mine. Maybe I should stick with knitting on the train.

She gets it, sort of

I was reading Z one of her oldest board books before bed this evening, and as I pointed to the green frog she said, "Maybe in the pond. Maybe he live... maybe he jump in th' pond." We turned to the baby wrapped in a blue towel and she points out, "Baby all clean."

But just as I was congratulating myself on my bright little toddler, we came to the baby in the white overalls. Z points to her and announces, "I'm gonna pick her up." When I started to turn the page, she got really agitated and started saying "Take her out! Bring her here!"

To chill her out, I brought out Baby Faces, another of her very first books. This time she pointed to the crying baby face (it's always been a favorite) and said, "Baby needs a paci." Then she pointed to the African-American baby with a sudsy face and washcloth and said, "That's Z!" Yeah, the resemblance is striking.

The New Yorker on Childbirth

Atul Gawande has written an absolutely riveting article on the history of childbirth and obstetrics for The New Yorker. It balances the rhetoric that childbirth has become too medicalized with history and data that explain how much better off mothers and infants are thanks to obstetrical advances. I can relate to this story because I'd planned on having a natural childbirth with midwives and minimal intervention (but in a hospital, thank you very much). But because she was breech, I ended up with a scheduled C-section five days before Z's official due date.

I was disappointed that I was contributing to our country's unnaturally high rate of Cesarean births, but Z did well on her Apgar score and I was able to breastfeed without much difficulty. Plus, never having gone into labor meant my delivery and recovery were pretty easy.

That wasn't the case for Elizabeth Rourke, who says to the author, "'I felt like a complete failure, like everything I had set our to do I failed to do. I didn't want the epidural and then I begged for the epidural. I didn't want a C-section, and I consented to a C-section. I wanted to breast-feed the baby, and I utterly failed to breast-feed.'" Elizabeth "was so debilitated that her milk did not come in" after almost 40 hours of labor and a Cesarean section.

If and when I deliver again, I wonder if I'll be able to go the more natural, vaginal route. It's what I'd want--the more correct choice--but I'd risk a one in 200 chance of uterine rupture as well as every laboring woman's one in four chance of having an emergency C-section anyway.

This changes everything

I'm used to paying $60+ for a haircut. It pains me every time, but I'd sooner cough up the cash and be assured I'll look good for the next two to three months than spend $20 at a Hair Cuttery storefront and risk a chop job. There was middle ground when I lived in the city; I could get a slow-but-meticulous student haircut at the Aveda Institute in Lakeview or a punk-rock trim at Big Hair in Roscoe Village. But since having a kid and moving west, I've stuck with the high-quality, high-priced James Anthony Salon in River Forest.

Not anymore. Our friends Jody and Peter, Forest Park business owners extraordinaire, recommended Michael. A UPS driver by weeknight and DJ by Saturday night, Michael is also a freelance hair stylist who--get this--comes to your house to wash, cut and blowdry your hair. For $30! I'll post a picture soon, but trust me, it's a good cut.

Anyway, I was hoping that Z would be inspired enough to sit still for a bang trim, but she wouldn't let Michael near her. Good thing she's letting me put her hair in pigtails now since it is getting very long and straggly. She'll just have to look homeless on the days Josh is taking care of her, because, as our neighbor put it, "Josh does a lot of things with Z, but brushing her hair isn't one of them."

And there was Franny

There's a new addition to the blogosphere, and her name is Franny. My best friend since we first warily eyed each other during track practice in the 9th grade, Franny and I have had the good fortune of living our lives in lockstep and the poor fortune of living at least 1000 miles away from each other since we turned 18. And when I say our lives are lived in parallel, there's a certain truth to that. I entered the world five days after Franny, and we shared high school teachers, confirmation classes and silver Taurus wagons (the silver bullets) in Arlington, VA. After graduation, we met our future husbands while sophomores in college and married them two months apart in 1999. And when I was in the hospital delivering Z, Franny called me to tell me she was pregnant with her darling little boy.

But we're not exactly two peas in a pod. I help people buy more shampoo and cream cheese. Franny helps the mental unstable. I've got curly hair. Franny's got curly hair. And while I'd never hesitate to tell anyone exactly what I think, Franny is less sure of herself and wasn't positive her blog was worth sharing.

And you know what I think about that? She's wrong! Frannyland is a wry, funny take on motherhood, as sort of scientific observation of the species oneis yearoldus.

We got a new car!

Welcome home, Silver 2005 Honda CR-V EX! In typical fashion, I had done extensive research online and showed up at Continental Honda ultra-prepared: ready to write a check for the right price and walk if nothing worked out.

So with Edmunds' TMV prices on my top car picks (new and barely-used CR-Vs, Subaru Foresters, and the 2006/2007 Toyota RAV4) stuffed into my purse, we hit the showroom.

Our first test drive was the brand-new 2007 CR-V, which is a complete vehicle redesign. Wow, a really cool car in every way, but they're selling at sticker. So we checked out the used CR-Vs on the lot and I liked the fact that this one had very low mileage (13k) as well as premium features like sunroof, 6-CD changer, 6 speaker audio and more cup holders than occupants!

I told our saleswoman, Stephanie, that I'd be willing to buy the car for Edmunds' TMV ($20,500) a good $4000 under its "sticker" price. Naturally, we wasted at least 2 or 3 hours while she played the "let me check with my boss," and "well, if you want I can try to go over his head," game. Ultimately we settled on $20,995, and I only caved because the mileage was so low and it was a Honda Certified Used Vehicle, which means we get an extended warranty. As Josh will attest, I played pretty good hardball, standing up and saying "Thank you for your time," at least twice.

Buying a car isn't typically all that much fun, but I enjoyed knowing I was well informed and I feel pretty satisfied knowing I made a good deal.

And we couldn't have done it if my friend Gloria didn't let Z hang at her house for the 5 hours it took to get this accomplished.

Working Mommy guilt

I got home from work tonight at 8:30pm. I was helping put the finishing touches on a new business pitch, so there wasn't much I could do to get out of there any earlier, but like every working mother out there, I still felt pulled in two.

The Mommy: "Before you left for work this morning, your daughter said, 'No want Mommy go work. I want Mommy stay here wif me.'
The Marketer: "You have to work to take care of your daughter. You're the breadwinner, the provider of health, dental and vision care. Besides, you're setting a good example for her. The accomplished career woman. And one who enjoys her work!"
The Mommy: "You didn't give her a bath. You didn't read her a story. You weren't there to tuck her into bed."
The Marketer: "But you make it home in time to do all of those things 90-95 percent of the time. Tonight was the exception, not the rule."
The Mommy: "Children need your time most of all."
The Marketer: "I know. But I'm doing the best I can. At least I feel like my efforts contributed to a kick-ass pitch presentation. Not that I'll be there to see it. It's scheduled for Yom Kippur."

The new anti-Semitism

Victor Havis Hanson, a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution, contributes a powerful editorial on how the Left is increasingly legitimizing terrorist organizations like Hezbollah and Hamas.

New business

I'm in the thick of a new business pitch at work, which means lots of meetings, high anxiety and the stress of trying to be new and different and creative when it seems like everything's been done before. That said, I think our team is coming up with some kickass concepts for the consumer packaged goods company that will remain nameless (Hey, I don't want to get Dooced).

What's interesting about this particular pitch is that I am both the marketer and the target audience for the product we're trying to sell: the "Gatekeeper Mom." The woman who reads labels, monitors what her kids eat and tries to avoid the big baddies: sugar, trans fats and preservatives. I probably go further than most, choosing organics when possible and avoiding processed foods as much as possible.

Anyway, this process has got me thinking about the brands I do trust. The ones that not only make it past my gate but onto our plates again and again.

Brown Cow yogurts
I'm a particularly partial to their Low Fat Yogurt with Fruit and Whole Grains. No bovine growth hormone, no high fructose corn syrup, no artificial anything.

Yo Baby yogurt by Stonyfield Farms
The drinkable yogurts are perfect for on-the-go, the cereal yogurts include iron and even the regular yogurts combine great taste with organic whole milk yogurt. Z asks for them by name.

Annie's Homegrown Mac & Cheese
While all of Annie's natural and organic macaroni and cheese products are great (I like them almost as much as Z does), the individual servings of microwavable mac & cheese let us make just the right amount of food for our toddler's appetite.

Cheerios, Grape-Nuts and Weetabix
One of these three breakfast cereals is in my bowl every single weekday morning. I like peaches and berries on top, but if they aren't in season, I'll put peanut butter on my Cheerios and Weetabix and raisins on my Grape-Nuts. Yeah, the PB sounds weird, but I've converted others. Ask Franny (if she ever gets her blog up).

Edy's Slow Churned Light Ice Cream
It really doesn't taste lower in fat or calories. Even Josh agrees. I love this stuff even though my agency pitched it a while ago and didn't win the business.

Trader Joe's anything
'Nough said.

Vruit
The newest addition to my list of favorites, Vruit is a fruit and vegetable juice drink available in smallist shelf-stable cartons. Our family physician recommended it. We mix it with water for Z when she demands "juz."

I'm knitting again

Afghan
Originally uploaded by marketingmommy.

I finally completed a throw made exclusively of leftover yarn. Now I've started a yellow and green striped cardigan for Z.

What you do with liquids is your business

I was reading on CNN.com that the TSA has relaxed rules regarding liquids allowed through security. According to the article, "up to 4 ounces of a few items were permitted in carry-on bags: eye drops, saline solution, nonprescription medicine and personal lubricants." Um, I don't know if I want to sit next to the guy who keeps his "personal lubricant" handy at all times.

Parenting tip!

It's gonna be loud! on Vimeo

Once in a great while I figure out some little trick that makes me feel like a really smart parent. And this one is so easy every mom and dad deserves to hear about it. When Z starts whining/demanding something "right now" or refuses to do something I've requested, like sit down for dinner or head upstairs for a nap or bedtime, I simply break out the "moo cow" egg timer and set it for 1 or 2 minutes. I tell Z that when the cow goes "bzzzt," it will be time for X. She stops whatever she's doing to watch the cow, occasionally saying "It's gonna go 'bzzt' -- It's gonna be LOUD!"

And when the timer goes off, Z happily complies with my requests. How long will this work? I have no idea. But I like it!

O! for Omaha

Just one week after we returned from Omaha, the Chicago Tribune honored my favorite Nebraska city with a feature story on the front page of the Travel section.

Hypno-Mommy

Z has a clever little tic Josh has dubbed the "Jedi Head Nod." When she wants to get her way, she'll phrase a statement as a question (complete with rising inflection), lock eyes with us and nod her head. Requests commonly associated with the Jedi Head Nod include, "Go to the playground, Mommy?" "Play Play-Doh wif Mommy?" and "Go downstairs, have breakfast wif Mommy?"