janiejones: (mother daughter :: flor_d_liz)
Okay, don't laugh at me, but I was, um...watching Oprah today...because the focus was on the marginalization of women and how we are raising a generation of girls who judge their self-worth by their looks. Of course, as a new mama to a new baby girl, it caught my attention because among the many things I want to be for Small Anne, a good role model is at the very top of the list. And I want to know how to strike the right balance, to let her know that yes, she is beautiful because it's nice to be beautiful, everyone likes to feel beautiful; but it is not all she is, nor even one of the most important things about her. I want her to feel confident in herself, but know that her looks really have nothing to do with anything about who she is. Or, as Jill Conner Browne put it, "It is a good thing to be pretty. But we are not just pretty, and pretty all by itself is not worth much since it lasts only about an hour, relative to the rest of your life."

Not that I would ever look to Oprah for anything but entertainment (though she is an awesome philanthropist), but I knew it would be interesting. Anyway, as part of the show, they ran this commercial Dove apparently premiered during the Super Bowl. People, it made me cry. Seriously. It took me right back to junior high, and it made me think how crushed I would be if Small Anne ever feels one-tenth of the way I felt back then (and I actually had pretty good self-esteem, really, but man, those junior high years are KILLER).

So I found the commercial on YouTube here, and it is awesome. I thought some of you might like to check it out.

Go, Dove.
janiejones: (mummy knows best :: thetricia)
I have a full basket of laundry that needs to be taken to the bedroom and a fussing baby who does not, under any circumstances, want to be put down anywhere. What to do? What to do?

Why, carry the baby in the laundry basket!



Jun. 9th, 2006 01:17 pm
janiejones: (mummy knows best :: thetricia)
Small Anne has had a couple of rough days and nights. She came down with a pretty bad cold--stuffed-up nose, bad phlegmy cough, and just general, all-around irritability. Wednesday night was hell. She and I got maybe 4 or 5 hours of sleep (hardly any of them in a row), and considering she usually averages 10-12, she and I were both kind of zombies the next day. (I made S sleep on the couch; he would seriously have gotten no sleep otherwise.)

I took her to the doctor yesterday, and they said her ears and throat look fine, her lungs sound great, it's just a cold and we have to ride it out. Then we came home and she and I slept for an hour-and-a-half, woke up, ate, zoned out, and then slept for another two-and-a-half hours. I don't think I've ever been more exhausted in my life. But I kind of feel like I've achieved some badge of motherhood. Staying up with your sick baby, sticking saline drops up her nose and suctioning out snot, rubbing Baby Vicks on her chest, rocking her for 2 hours, singing COUNTLESS songs you didn't even realize you knew the words to, taking her to bed with you, and then waking up at her every sniffle and sneeze, not to mention all the WORRYING...the least you deserve for that is a badge, right?

She seems better today. She didn't go to sleep until after 10 last night, but then she slept till 6, and has already taken two naps today. I know that sleep is the best thing for her, so I'm grateful she's finally getting it.

As a sidenote, is there anything stinkier than a small dog who's been out in 90-degree heat for half an hour? I think not.
janiejones: (bitch please :: dianora 2)
A friend of mine just made me feel like a freak. She's having complications with her pregnancy that have made her determine this is probably the only child she will ever attempt to have (but both she and the baby are now doing really well). I asked her if she thought the complications she's having would probably mean she'd need a C-section. She said, "It better not! If I'm only going to have one child, it had better be a real experience."

WTF? I went through 14 hours of pain and fatigue and complications, but just because I didn't have to push the baby out, I didn't really give birth? Gee, I thought 10 months of pregnancy and those 14 hours made the experience pretty real. That, and, oh I don't know--PULLING THE BABY OUT OF MY BODY. But what do I know?

I assume that's not exactly how she meant it...and yet, it probably is how she meant it. It's not the first time I've heard something like that, and she was saying crap like that before she had any difficulties. I get how the hours of pushing make the experience 'real,' I really do; millions of women before you would attest to that. But don't totally disregard the percentage of us who had C-sections. I think being cut open, and recuperating from that over a period of weeks, not to mention having a baby to show for it, still earns us our stripes.

In non-ranty news, we finally took my laptop in to be fixed. I should be back in business soon! Yee-haw!

In other non-ranty news, I've been glued to the winter Olympics. I loooove the Olympics, especially winter. I'm digging that mouthy figure skater Johnny Weir. (I keep wanting to type that Johnny 'Weird.' Hahahaha.) I'd never heard of him before, but I like when he said "Those people--especially those Republican-types, worry about what I mean to the sport" (paraphrasing). And I thought he had a great routine in the short program. I'm still rooting for Pleshenko though. I'm partial to those Russians.

* * * * *

And, belatedly:

If there is someone on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met, in real life or without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

That would be all of you. Thank you.


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January 2009

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