Uncommon Misconception

Review: That Baby DVD and CD

That Baby DVD (or, as my daughter calls it, "The movie with the girl with hair like me") is the product of several Portland musician/parents' obvious frustration with the kidlet music scene.  And who can blame them.  Watching baby- or child-appropriate programming is a bit like being trapped in an elevator filled to the brim with bad Muzak.  Only worse.  Because there are usually unintelligible, aesthetically-disturbing visual images to go with the "musical" sounds that seem to have been produced by no known or recognizable instrument. 

Sure, the baby loves the visual delights of the Baby-Whatchamacalit series, but let's face it, unless you've smoked enough of the good stuff to rival your last college three-day concert extravaganza in the mud, the noise coming from the living room TV set is more likely to send you into a postal rage than to entertain you.

Enter: That Baby DVD.  The DVD features acoustical covers of well-know and generally beloved musicians.  The song selection is great and the lyrics are sung in voices that children can understand - which makes sing-alongs much easier.  I'll admit, though, that I wasn't 100% cognizant of some of the lyrics from favorite songs until now.  Or perhaps I'd just never paid that much attention.  (Like the slightly-though-unintentionally misogynistic lyrics to "When We Grow Up" - "Maybe you'll be a lady and I'll be an engineer" says the little boy. ) Still, I'll take good music and musicians over most all of the crap on radio stations or in the more common children's compilations any day.  (Holy crap!  How old do you have to be to utter a sentence like that last one?)

I'll also warn that many of the songs get stuck in your head.  But that's not a bad thing.  Which would you prefer, "The Wheels on the Bus" or "Happiness Runs"?  Me, too.  And apparently, it is not possible for me to sing the phrase "Pony Boy" repetitively without turning it into "Poiny Boy".  Believe me, I tried.

Now, onto the visuals.  I think they are head-and-shoulders above the competition.  There are still a few slight-psychedelic ones, but apparently, kids dig 'em.  And I suppose this is just as much for them as it is the grown-ups.  Wait, what?  It's more about them.  Oh.  Okay.

In that case, I'll tell you that Hannah chose to watch That Baby DVD over Cinderella (Hey, don't blame me. It seems that Disney princesses now comes encoded in girl DNA.  All that crap made it into my house against my better efforts.).  She really likes the images of the children and the fact that they're actively dancing and playing musical instruments helps a lot.  Singing is one of her favorite activities right now, and we were both relieved to have new additions to our increasingly tired repertoire. 

So: Great product.  Parents dig it, and so do kids.  I wouldn't say it's perfect, but really, I'm not sure anything that has to juggle the two audiences (grown-ups and non-grown-ups) will ever make both truly peachy pleased.  That Baby DVD certainly comes much closer that others I've seen.

The nice folks at MotherTalk passed along this information if you're thinking of buying:

    Enter the coupon code "MotherTalk" when purchasing and save 20% on your entire order!
From now until May 18th, all orders using the coupon code "MotherTalk" will be entered in a drawing to win a new iPod nano.

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Which brings me to another question: I have about four PayPal gift certificates just waiting for charity.  Any suggestions?  I will likely donate them to little Emily, but I'd like to know if there's another cause I should be considering.

 

Book Review: Dirty Little Secrets

I know, I know.  Probably too many book reviews and not enough about me.  Wait.  That didn't sound right.  Well, you know what I mean.  This'll be the last for a while.  I'll resume our regularly scheduled bitching blogging tomorrow.

When the compact Dirty Little Secrets from Otherwise Perfect Moms by Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile was offered up for a review, the good folks at Mother Talk warned that reviewers should be able to handle sometimes disturbing confessions from well-meaning moms.  "Sure.  No problem," I thought, "I'd love to stumble across some gems that will perhaps make me feel better about my own occasionally shameful moments."

They also promised it would be a quick read - which the slim 112-pager (one quote per page, roughly) certainly is.  But instead of digging into some juicy tidbits, my initial thought was simply: "Eh."

Frankly, some of these so-called confessions are so bland I have no idea how they qualify.  Perhaps I'm too laid back myself?  Take this one:

"I locked my two-year-old daughter in my car and stood helplessly as I watched her take her hair clip out of her hair and put it in her mouth." [emphasis theirs]

Okay, now I get that locking your kid in the car is scary - especially since in my part of the country kids can easily die from heat exhaustion as a result.  So, yes, absolutely a "holy crap, that was scary!" story - but a confession?  And what, in God's name, does it matter that she put a hair clip in her mouth?  I doubt that part would have even registered with me during the ensuing freak-out.

Other confessions were so bland and cliche that I was almost angry at wasting the nanosecond it took to read it:

"My biggest fear as a mother is being judged by other moms."

Um, join the club.

And yet others were less shocking than simply sad:

"My husband would be really surprised if he knew that I thought about divorce more times than I can count."

The last person I heard say something similar actually did divorce a few months later.  Which is fine, if that's what has to happen.  But reading about it in what is supposed to be a light-hearted romp through the less-than-perfect world of mothering, well it's just disheartening.

But it wasn't all blah.  There are a few great, laughable quotes, and a handful more that had my moms' night out group scribbling notes, like the following gem:

"When I'm at Safeway I buy a Nordstrom gift card and charge it as groceries, I can justify it that way."

Or my personal favorite:

"My rule is beer at lunch, wine at 5. Wine at lunch feels like I have a 'problem' but beer just seems OK."

Unfortunately, this book's so-so factor outweighs the laughable moments.  I appreciate where they were trying to go, but the authors just didn't get me there.  You'd probably get just as lucky if you bring a few bottles of wine to the next mommy get-together.

Book Review: Mama Rock's Rules: Ten Lessons for Raising a Household of Successful Children

First, let me sheepishly proclaim, "The dog ate my homework."  I was supposed to post this review on Monday.  But, understandably, I let some good, 'ol fashioned griping and a few work items take priority.  My apologies.

In a world filled with lots and lots (and lots) of fuzzy, fluffy books on parenting, Rose Rock (mama to Chris Rock) has certainly found a gap.  Her new book, Mama Rock's Rules, is a refreshing, and dare I say "old school" approach to parenting that just plain makes good sense.  Instead of pointing to scientific studies about the merits of "sleep methods" or the effects of breastfeeding of grown men's ability to bond, blah blah blah - Rock bases her rules on real-life experience.  Experience gained by raising, as the title says, a whole household of successful people.  Ten kids plus 17 foster children, to be specific.  Add to that her lifelong work as a preschool and special needs educator, and by golly you've got a woman I'll listen to.

The book is well-formated and approachable, with the promised ten lessons laid out in ten chapters.  She pulls out special bits of wisdom and tools into "Mama's Mojo" blurbs, and she recaps each mini-lesson at chapter's end.  The advice doesn't hone in on early parenting, but rather rules that lend themselves to nearly any age - including high school, which is an age I have yet to see addressed in any of the parenting books I've read so far.

Before I get into what I particularly loved about this book, let me get one point of criticism out of the way:  I am not overly impressed with the readability of the writing.  I feel like Rose's actual voice is trapped somewhere in there, but doesn't come through too clearly.  Who knows who's to blame for that, given the lengthy list of people involved in the publishing of a book, but instead of simply going with a more casual true-to-life vernacular, you'll find stilted sayings that sound like they put her true phrases in straight-jackets, along with a healthy overuse of unnecessary "quotes".  Yeah.  Just like that.

To solve this for myself, I simply threw in a few more "'em"s instead of "them"s, and filled in some colloquialisms when needed.

Okay, onto the good stuff. Rock's mantra throughout the book is one that I think many of us have lost sight of in our efforts to be perfect parents.  It's simple: "I am the parent. You are the child.  It's my job to make the rules, and your job to follow them."  Paired with reminders that made me take a good look at myself, like when to let things slide and when not to, Rock's advice is where the rubber meets the road.  Some are highly-specific, others are broad concepts, but all of them are spelled out and applicable.

One of my absolute favorite chapters focuses on the power of the family meal.  I know that's a popular concept lately, but Rock goes into details and explains exactly why having a shared meal is so very important.  And then she shares her recipe for sweet potato pie.  What other parenting book have you read that includes that?!

"Once kids get a full stomach, things loosen up.  They not only eat the beans - they spill the beans.  Everything would come out at the table, especially secrets."

Her love of praise and self-esteem is evident throughout the book, as she reminds us that there is no such thing as too much praise.

"Each kid [in her son, Andre's class] was asked to share what their parents said about them; [the teacher] told us 95 percent of the kids in her class repeated something negative.  She quickly added that Andre was another story; he didn't hesitate to say, 'My mother thinks I'm the greatest thing there is!'"

And perhaps my favorite chapter title, "Don't Lie Down with Anything You Don't Want to Live with Forever" deals, obviously, with preparing kids to deal with sex (at whatever point that happens).

Since I'm obviously getting long-winded, I'll sum it us thusly: Take the time to get past the halting language and read this one.  It'll give you the long-term vantage point and straight-to-the-point tactics you've been missing.  And don't forget the sweet potato pie recipe.

Book Review: The Cure for Modern Life

Look Ma!  Fiction!

I know, it's a first.  I haven't yet reviewed a novel on this blog.  One advantage of childlessness (which, I admit, fails to make up for the disadvantages) is the ability to read.  You can read often, for fun, at hours of your choosing, and with a better-than-average rate of retention.

But once you've made it to the promised land of parenthood, your book fetish takes a beating. 
I believe this is the first work of fiction I've read since Caroline's birth eight months ago.  Wait.  Scratch that.  It's the first work of nonfiction that didn't specifically revolve around parenting.

The Cure for Modern Life is a love story.  Sort of.  It tells the story of what happens when the lives of people from two very different extremes intersect.  There are basically three main characters: a homeless boy who is doing his level best to provide for himself, his drug-addicted mother, and his baby sister; an executive in the pharmaceutical industry; and a self-fashioned "moralist"/former love interest of the executive.  Your average boy-meets-man-meets-former-love-interest-who's-dating-best-friend story.

As is my habit with books, I started out being a bit skeptical (don't ask me why, I really don't know).  In my experience, so-so books have one common flaw: you can see the author quite clearly in one of the characters.  It's sort of like their slip is showing the whole time, disconcerting somehow. (Okay, there are some instances in which that hasn't been a problem for me, but still.  Generally speaking I don't like it.)  So I kept looking for the author, Lisa Tucker, in each character.

Thankfully, she wasn't there.  At least, not intact.  Each character seemed quite real and adequately flawed - not some egocentric depiction of herself.  The little boy, Danny, in particular.  It's got to be tough to channel a nine-year-old homeless boy, yet Tucker seems to have done it.

The plot line is interesting, though not filled with mind-blowing twists, and I became attached enough to the characters to sneak reading in throughout the day to see what would happen to them.  That's no small compliment given the business of my average day.

As with Naptime, I find it really intriguing that blogging is a phenomenon of enough cultural import that it's made it's way into our narratives.  The "moralist" character writes a blog and it's mentioned in several different contexts.  I know I must seem like a total dork (but thankfully, only in my head) when I think, "Blogging?!  I do that!"

There's also an honest and interesting look at pregnancy and risk for those of "advanced maternal age" - a fear of potential Down's Syndrome and how women (and men) face the idea of termination, even before they know for sure if it's in their cards.   I particularly liked that Tucker teased out the fact that being pro-choice does not mean you are automatically willing to terminate.  It seems obvious, but is often overlooked or under-discussed.

I could not find much in the way of biographical information on Tucker, so I don't know if she's traveled down the primrose path of infertility or loss, but there is an undercurrent there that made me feel like she had.  Or knew someone who had.  Though, don't get me wrong, that's not nearly the central theme to the book.

Overall, I really enjoyed The Cure for Modern Life.  It raised some interesting issues and grounded them in well-developed characters.  The characters truly seemed to follow their own course, rather than preaching some agenda.  And I managed to read it in three days - which is nothing short of a miracle.

Book Review: Naptime Is the New Happy Hour

When I first received my copy of Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's new book, Naptime Is the New Happy Hour and Other Ways Toddlers Turn Your Life Upside Down (hitherto referred to as Naptime), I found a review (somewhere, which I now can't find to correctly credit) that said the book would make me wish she were my new best friend.

"Hm," I though, tersely, "We'll just see about that."  I can't help it.  For all my Pollyanna-ing, I'm contrary that way.

The book starts of a teeny bit slower than I expected, which allowed me to smugly believe that I may actually avoid the aforementioned desire to declare Stefanie my "BFF".  But then she warms up.  And what can I say... after her account of her first Pampered Chef party in the beehive of suburbia, how she was seated next to a woman who looked a bit like Lisa Loeb, but couldn't carry a conversation with a bucket and a shovel, who then, of course, turns out to really be Lisa Loeb who was likely put-off by Stefanie's somewhat abrasive attempts at conversation... well, I was hooked.

Because if I lived in L.A., that would be me.  I would be the chick making those kinds of impressions.  Open mouth, insert foot.  And then run home to write about it on the blog.

So there.  I admit it.  I have a cyber-crush on Stefanie.  And she loves me, too.  I have proof!  Look!  She commented on my blog!  And our kids both have curly hair, which totally means it's destiny.

I feel it's only fair as an impartial journalist that I admit this crush upfront, as it may color my perception of the book.  Ahem.  Now, where was I?

 

Naptime is a hybrid of girlfriend gossip-meets-girlfriend advice that's good for the soul.  It's not really a how-to or a manual, but she does have some good suggestions mixed in with the humor.  But who are we really kidding?  What we're really after is the humor.  At least I am.  Because I can find all the advice I could ever need - and more. way. WAY more. - on the internet.  Whereas finding good humor that steps over the line every so often with a well-placed swear word every now and then, well, that's much harder to find.  Though clearly, not impossible.  And if it's one thing that mom of toddlers need, it's a good laugh.

Stefanie writes in a tone and format that feels familiar to all us because it reads much like a good blog, with one well-thought-out post after another.  Minus the comments, obviously.  Which makes sense, since she writes a blog: Baby on Bored.  See, witty, no?  In fact, Stefanie is one of those urban legends we hear about in blogland.  Apparently, she was just writing her blog, minding her own business when WHAMO! an publisher said, hey, I know!  You should write a book!

Can you tell that jealousy figures largely into my crush?

But really now, back to the book.  As a resident of L.A., hot-spot and petri dish for all forms of extremism - Stefanie acts a bit like a wildlife guide, identifying, tracking, and observing various species of mommy, from the Too Cools (or "Tools", for short) to the Superliars (often know as Supermoms instead).  Her New Mommy Math is a handy tool for deciphering what other moms are really saying when they claim that processed sugar never touches their toddler's lips and that their television viewing is limited to a half-hour of educational content each day.  Sure, her descriptions are over super barely inflated, and stereotypical, but who cares?!  They're funny!  And they go a long way towards alleviating any mommy guilt you may be holding on to.  It turns out there really are lots of normal moms out there.  We're just to shocked by the more strident hardliners to speak up.

Stefanie also throws in some handy quizzes and bulleted tips to help you navigate the world of toddlerhood.  My favorite was her Playdate Quiz, which helps you identify whether or not another potential playdate mommy will fit with your sensibilities.  A sample:

"1. I show up at your door with a bottle of Pinot Grigio.  Your response:

A) What kind of a mother are you?

B) Oh, I would never drink this early, but I'll store it for you in my two-thousand-dollar Sub-Zero fridge.

C) Pop that sucker open, bitch!"

As it turns out, Stefanie and I would get along like gangbusters on playdates.  Though I do have to admit to actually liking the Wonder Pets, who make her list of top shows to avoid.

I'm tempted to turn this entry into a long list of favorite quotes (I kept snorting out loud and forcing quotes on Todd as he lay in bed next to me trying to watch High Stakes Poker - a good sign for the book, but a bad one for my husband), but I suppose that would defeat the purpose. 

In summary, Naptime may not be deep, but it is good.  It's funny.  You'll laugh.  And it's a quick read.  Score!

So go get it, and tell your friends the same.

Half-Baked Book Review: Spilled Milk, Breastfeeding Adventures and Advice from Less-Than-Perfect Moms, by Andy Steiner

This will be the first in a series of "half-baked" reviews.  Why?  Because I have wonderful intentions by not much time.  The author, Andy Steiner, sent me this book when Caroline was maybe a week old.  It sat wholly neglected on my nightstand for a while.  And then I picked it up and began reading it in two-page chunks, as time permitted.

So, in the interest of full disclosure, I have not read this book in it's entirety. I have, however, read enough to form an opinion.  So there.

Spilled Milk is not your typical how-to guide on breastfeeding.  There are no pencil sketches of correct latch, no tables of symptoms and their correlating cause, no hyped-up theories or propaganda about how breastfeeding is the only right thing to do.

Andy assumes that you'll learn as much as you can about the how-tos and whys in all of guides and classes that address breastfeeding.  Instead, she tried to replicate what may in fact be the most helpful form of advice known to womankind: the girls' pow-wow.  Spilled Milk reads much more like a transcript from my last Moms' Night Out than it does a breastfeeding manual.

Steiner goes out of her way to keep judgment out (in fact, my only complaint about the book is that she reiterates her "no judgment" statement a wee bit too much).  But I do agree that there's far to much judgment in most of the literature out there.  Breastfeeding is great - we get it!  We don't need to be beat over the head with it.  Nor do we need to keep the scarier stories of breastfeeding out of the canon for fear of scaring mothers away from trying. 

As a whole, moms are an intelligent breed.   If we make up our mind to try nursing, what we really need is the straight skinny on what it's going to be like and how to stay on track - not some soft-focus painting of how glorious breastfeeding is that just makes us feel like failures when reality doesn't play out accordingly.

I think Steiner has accomplished that goal quite well.  She interviewed dozens of women who had nursed - some more successfully than others - and compiled their stories.  She talks about the good, the bad, and the politically-charged.  She talks about mother-in-laws, well-meaning but ill-informed friends, gawkers, fathers, and random strangers.  She includes embarrassing stories of let-down fiascoes, accidental public flashing, painful accounts of clogged ducts and blistered nipples.  But she also talks of the bliss that can come in the wee hours when you've finally figured it out.  I had to laugh out loud as Steiner talked of the sonnets she's composed in her head as she nursed her four-month-old in the wee hours.  I laughed because I was doing the exact same thing the very night before.  Something to do with her arm acting like a charmed snake.  Hey, don't judge.  There were hormones and sleep deprivation involved!

Some of my favorite stories were those of mothers who seemed to have gone off the rails entirely due to all sorts of circumstances, but found their way through to some happy conclusion.  For some, it was a marriage of some nursing and some formula, for others it was exclusive breastfeeding, and for others it was a happy acceptance that their circumstances required formula and they were doing what was best for their baby.

I think the reason I like this book so much is that first-time mothers too often lack this sort of veteran-to-newbie mom exchange that in generations past informed most every mom's parenting decisions.  How-to is great, but "Watch out! Curves ahead!" is even better.

Spilled Milk is probably redundant for those moms who've already successfully negotiated nursing.  But for new moms or for those who are going to give nursing another shot, this book is a great tool for the arsenal. And from one mom to another, here's a hint: Read this and all other books BEFORE baby comes along.  Because you won't be reading again for a very long time.

Book Review: Parenting Magazine's Baby Must-Haves, The Essential Guide to Everything from Cribs to Bibs

I was really excited when Parenting Magazine asked me to review their new guide to all things baby-related, even though it came a hair too late to for maximum use (just days after Caroline's birth).  The book is similar in concept to the well-known and much-touted Baby Bargains, outlining different products by category and choosing a few stand-outs for each one.

The book's cover and layout are very attractive, as guides go.  A respectable amount of white space, nice clean images, and consistent headers and organizational tools to keep you from losing your bearings.

But where Baby Bargains offers more ratings and actual product evaluations, Baby Must-Haves gives more general advice about the concept of products ("How to choose a stroller:  First, consider where you live and the local terrain.") When I first received the book, I went straight to the sections that covered some of my most recent purchases: slings, diaper pails, double strollers, nursing accessories.  To be frank, I was looking for confirmation that I'd made the right choices and not overlooked something better out there.  And while the information I found is likely useful to a first-time mother in a nebulous sort of way, I was a bit disappointed at the limited number of specific products mentioned and the rather topical analysis of the category in general.  Because the book touts "mom-tested!" I wanted something more akin to the advice you guys give me when I ask.

For instance, the section on diaper pails is one page long and mentions only two brands specifically, the Diaper Genie and the Diaper Dekor.  I found the feedback I solicited from you to be much more thorough.  Another example was the nursing accessories section, which mentioned two types of nursing pillows, both by Boppy, and completely failed to mention the Breast Friend, which every expert and successful breast-feeder I've ever known touts as the holy-grail of breast-feeding pillows.  And the one-paragraph discussion of nursing pads doesn't mention which ones work best, or look least-awkward, and there's nary a mention of Lily-Padz, which have been a huge topic of interest amongst my mom friends.

Other sections did a better job, like the ones that covered toys and storage, which recommended items I'd never seen even in all my hours of catalog perusing and reminded me of classic toys just in time for my godson's first birthday.

To be fair, I know that they cannot cover each section with as much detail as I might like without creating a tome large enough to require a back-brace for lifting.  And perhaps due to their magazine publisher status, they cannot appear to be too strongly in favor of certain products over others.  But still, I wish they had been a little more brass-tacks and gotten down to the meat of the matter, as it were.

Overall, I would recommend this guide for first-time parents who want to get an idea of what items they'll need prior to doing the nitty-gritty research about which brands to choose, and for those of us who'd like a refresher course before hitting the slopes again.  But save your real research for the internet, consumer-reviews, and your circle of other mom-friends.

DVD Review: Bedrest Fitness

One of the perks of my job (freelance writer) is meeting cool people I might not have otherwise known.  Recently, I was introduced to a woman who has developed a fitness DVD for women on bed rest.  "Neat!" I thought.  I haven't actually been on bed rest myself, and I can only imagine how stir-crazy it must make a gal.  Plus, the physical deterioration that can come from weeks or even months of sitting still can't be good for you once you cross the finish line and have to start momming.

So I told the PR person who mentioned the project to me that I'd love to review the DVD and tell my readers what I thought of it.  Thusly, my review:

The Concept: Before I heard of this DVD, I never imagined that doctors would allow you to exercise while on bed rest.  I figured muscle atrophy and sheer, stunning boredom were just par for the course when you were confined to your bed.  But apparently, there are safe, effective exercises you can do that won't jeapordize your health or your pregnancy.  Having never been on bed rest, I know I'm making some assumptions here, but I would think the chance to stretch your muscles and possibly prevent their deterioration would be preferable to another hour of television re-runs and numb-butt.  The entertainment factor alone might be worth it.

I'll even go one step further and venture to say that this concept even appeals to pregnant women who aren't on bed rest, but are too cautious (read: terrified; and also: me) to work out, or those who simply like the notion of working out in bed, rather than leaving the house or - God forbid - entering a gym in anything spandex.

Title:  Well, short and sweet always works for me.  "Bedrest Fitness" pretty much tells you exactly what you're getting without trying to resort to some cutesy play on words.

Instructor:  Darline Turner-Lee, who developed the exercises and video has a list of qualifications as long as my arm.  She's a physician's assistant and an American College of Sports Medicine Certified Exercise Specialist®, to hit the highlights.  Plus, she's a mom, and she hoed a bumpy road to become one.  But better than that is her personality.  She's the right mix of get-down-to-business and perky, without crossing over into cheerleader land like so many other fitness gurus.  She laughs at herself a few times on the video and is encouraging without being intimidating.  Another bonus: she looks like a real, normal, flesh-n-blood mom; not some twiggy model whose physique leaves you feeling even less confident about yourself than when you popped the DVD in the player.

The Video:  The intro on the DVD has some corny graphics - definitely not a high-end, expensive production - and the OBGYN who offers up some nice, valid information has a few personality quirks (namely a set of still-in-box collector's Barbies displayed rather prominently behind her), but all of this is easily overlooked and/or skipped with the help of your fast-forward button.

Darline's introduction, by contrast, is short and sweet and completely lacking in Barbie paraphernalia.  The video lays out nicely with little exercise title inserts between each exercise that allow you to pause for water or breathing or telling your cat to just leave you the hell alone for just one minute, wouldja?! 

The exercises themselves are great, progressing from bottom to top in an orderly fashion, without too much moving around between exercises.  All you need is you, your bed, some pillows, and a resistance band (which comes with the DVD).  Everything is done at a nice pace, offering just enough resistance and speed to make you feel like you've achieved a little something, but not so much that you would worry about your cervix or pelvic wall.  I personally haven't done a lick of formal exercise beyond going for a walk with Hannah or generally chasing and entertaining her since the beginning of this pregnancy.  And yet I managed to complete this video feeling pleasantly active and stretched, but not at all tired.

I'm not the expert Darline is, but I think think the chance to do anything that might preserve your muscle tone or at least slow it's atrophy is a plus when you're on bed rest.  The fact that these exercises are tailored by you to your own ability, circumstances, and resistance preferences means that you won't feel over or under taxed.

Overall, I give Bedrest Fitness a thumbs up.  If you're on bedrest, ask your OB or midwife or both about using this program.  If your not, but like me, smile at the notion of working out in bed, I say go for it. 
You can order the DVD here. 

For the record, I'm not getting anything for this review*.  I just though, given my audience, that this might be a great thing to pass along.  I know some of you have been through bed rest in the past, and have reason to suspect you may again, one day.  Or maybe you know someone.  Either way, it can't hurt to know this DVD is out there.

*I am, however, going to be famous!  Okay, maybe not famous, but I've agreed to be the "model" for a spot on the local morning show about the DVD.  I'm sure it's my big break.

Book Review: The Early Birds, by Jenny Minton

When I was asked to review The Early Birds, the first thought that crossed my mind was "cheesy title".  But then I read the synopsis and a few reviews and thought that even thought the title seemed incongruously lighthearted in comparison with the subject, the book itself didn't sound half bad.

Jenny Minton was an erstwhile average book editor living in New York when she and her husband learned she had PCOS and embarked on fertility treatments.  The book describes their journey through infertility, IVF, pregnancy with twins, and the twins subsequent premature birth and lengthy stay in the NICU.

I'll qualify my review with the following statement: technically speaking, I've never been "infertile" - though three losses leads me well across the borders of that fabled country and entitles me to honorary citizenship.  That being said, I was glad to see someone talk about what ordinary life looks like when its been put through the grist mill of infertility assessment and treatment.

Minton's story is not outstanding.  She never suffered from a miscarriage.  She had several failed IUIs, but conceived on her first attempt at IVF.  There are moments when I, and I would guess, many of my readers, would start to object to some particular point of naivete with an indignant eyebrow.  But her honesty about her feelings - some of which change over the course of the book - kept bringing me around to forgiveness within a few sentences.  Take the following, where Minton describes the waiting room of her RE's office:

"I'm not aware of anyone staring me down - but then again I try not to meet anyone's eyes in the waiting room.  I hate overhearing the sad stories some women blurt out to perfect strangers about their four failed attempts at IVF.  I always bring several magazines and bury my head in them until my name is called, in much the same way as I won't even look at the person sitting next to me on an airplane until we have safely landed."

An earlier passage had me feeling all bond-y with Minton as she discussed the sense of being different because of her relative youth in an RE's office.  But when I read the sentence about women sharing sad stories with perfect strangers, I was taken aback.  I have been that woman.  And my story was likely much more scary than four failed IVF attempts.  Then in the next sentence I found myself agreeing with her again, as my antisocial stance in my RE's office is much the same as she describes it.

Minton's naivete about the world of IVF, multiples, and prematurity falls away as she moves through her story.  She laments the fact that she went along with whatever her doctors prescribed - despite her gut instincts and her own research.  It is a realization that anyone who's interacted with the medical community arrives at sooner or later.  Advocating for yourself and your children is a task not easily undertaken.

One of my favorite passages describes her sudden lack of interest in books following her sons' hospitalization:

"For ten years in publishing I read, on average, four novels a week.  Now the thought of reading fiction no longer appeals to me.  It's more than that I'm too tired or that there's a war unfolding in Iraq.  What keeps me from opening any of the new novels that friends from work send over is a feeling that fiction is hubris.  With all of the real pain going on in the world, it strikes me as gratuitous, objectionable even, that writers feel a need to create tragedies.  So many already exist."

I, too, went through precisely this reaction.  I stopped reading and I even found movies disgustingly disingenuous (you know, because Hollywood used to be so good at "keepin' it real".)

Minton's descriptions of some of the more typical motherhood decisions, like whether or not to return to work, are heartfelt.  She is honest about the new spin preemie babies puts on each and every decision thereafter - perhaps more so than regular motherhood, or perhaps not, since she's never experienced the other.  She spends a good deal of the book worrying nearly to the point of obsession about what she sees as uncertain futures of her boys, based on how quickly the do or do not hit milestones, etc.  What interested me, as a mother of a damn-near-full-term baby, is that these worries seem universal to all mothers.  But her lack of experience as anything other than a mother of preemies leads her to believe she is less than common in this regard.

I wish, however, that Minton had let her own experience stand as the explanation more.  There are awkward insertions of statistics, research, and facts that, while helpful and relevant, detract from the narrative and, therefore, the overall impact of the story.  I can't really offer a helpful solution, but it seems the transitions in and out of those facts could have been smoother.  Or perhaps those facts could have been omitted entirely, leaving her own experiences and those of her sons to show the impact of prematurity and less-than-vigilant prenatal care.

Overall, the book is a good read and a quick one.  And for anyone who's traveled the road of infertility - or a parallel one - many of her revelations about motherhood and the struggle to attain it will resonate.  For me, it raised many issues that I'd left dormant since Hannah's birth.  Recalling the fear, the intervention, the other-worldliness of it all, is important to me as my husband and I decide how best to move forward toward another child. 

It forced me to compare her experience to my own.  Which led to the conclusion that if her story can be taken seriously by the general public, certainly mine can, too.  And it led me to process some of my own feelings about Hannah's brief-yet-horrifying stay in the NICU - most of which I'd glossed over in an attempt to get to the part where I finally enjoy being a mom to a living baby.

I'd be interested to hear what the rest of you think - particularly those who've faced prematurity or NICU stays.  Or even those who haven't.  As mothers, are we interested in hearing about the stories of others, no matter how similar or different from our own?  Can we listen without judging?  Can we compare in order to learn?  Or are women like Minton and myself just making an issue out of something that's more ordinary than the world thinks?

Book Review: Reading to Babies, Toddlers, and Two's

I'm not immune to offers of free stuff - especially good free stuff, like books.  And we all know my ego is plenty big enough to crave it's own supply of "We'd really love your opinion" comments.  So when people began offering to send me books for nothing more than an honest review on my blog, I said, "Yes, please. Where do I sign?"

I'm a little behind the others in my review of this particular book (my fault, not the book people's).  I received it just before my surgery, so my review comes with the caveat that I've read the book both with and without the aid of pain killers. 

Reading with Babies, Toddlers, and Two's by Susan Straub and KJ Dell'Antonia is a guide to books of all sorts for the pre-school set.  It addresses some of the "why read to babies" questions, but primarily assumes that you know reading is good, or else you wouldn't have bought the book.  I like this aspect because I find it annoying when authors continue to beat you over the head with the public service announcement instead of getting to the meat of the matter (hint: see any breastfeeding book ever).

The guide is loosely organized into stages (not ages) of development and special areas of concern (like new siblings, toilet training, or even death).  There's also a chapter on computer and television programs that do a good job at educating, instead of just pacifying.

As far as navigation goes, the book is filled with reading lists, Q&A sections, mommy case studies, and author profiles.  It makes it easier on moms whose time is already more precious than gold to read in sporadic segments.  (My husband would call it a toilet book - which is actually more of a compliment than it sounds.)

I was particularly fond of the sections that described what books your children might like if they can follow a narrative, but not for more than one sentence per page, for example.  Or if they're suddenly enamored of naming books with no plot, etc.

There were also a few precious jewels of advice that make the book worthwhile: Like did you know that you can buy entire boxes of used children's books on-line at places like e-Bay for only a few dollars?  This, taken in tandem with the gentle reminder that it isn't the end of the world when your daughter pulls every tab off your favorite "lift-the-tab" book or tears out whole pages of your 25-year-old copy of The Velveteen Rabbit, kept me sane these past few months as Hannah became more and more intrigued by the world of paper books.

But there is a pitfall to this book as I see it.  I have not been able to pick it up even once without the overwhelming desire to run out and buy more books.  Lots of books.  I found myself beaming with pride when I could say that my kid has nearly every book on such-and-such list, but then came the backlash of wanting to go and secure the ones she didn't yet posses.

And there was another flaw.  Being a marketer by nature, I took the book along with me to my every-other-week mommy's night at a local bookstore to get my friend's opinions.  One summed up the general feeling thusly: "This is a book I would pick up in the store, thumb through with I had my coffee, and then leave without buying." 

It could be that this book has done too good a job at making itself accessible in short time spans.  And, most moms already have an idea about what books they prefer - either from their contemporaries, or from their own upbringing and current perusing.  The result is a guide that makes you go, "hm. neat." and then walk away.

But I would recommend this book as a gift for moms-to-be, grandparents, or anyone else who hasn't already been sucked into the highly addictive world of children's literature.