Archive for August, 2011

So apparently Jay-Z liked it so much, he put a baby in it!

We are launching our new Hump Day special! Every Wednesday we will be taking a poll. Let’s start with a popular topic this week…

What should Beyonce and Jay-Z name their baby? We offer a few suggestions, but please feel free to add your own in the comments!


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Inspired by Parents.com’s recent post “10 Common Baby-making Mistakes” (which offered the sage advice of “Not Having Enough Sex” immediately followed by “Having Too Much Sex”, which leads me to believe that Goldilocks wrote the column), I’m posting my “Top Baby-Making Mistakes.” TTC couples, you’ll thank me later.

7. Kept waiting for the stork to deliver.

6. Heard the lyrics “The birds do it, the bees do it” but missed the critical next step, “even educated fleas do it.”

5. Mistook the NASDAQ stock index for the ovulation chart and bought when you should have been selling.

4. Kept trying the rhythm method, because it seemed to work so well for the girls on MTV’s Teen Mom.

3. (Men only) Thought you could carry the sympathy pregnancy to full term.

2. Confused Juno, the hipster pregnant teen from the movies, with Juno, the Roman goddess of fertility.

And the number 1 all-time baby-making mistake is…

1. Assumed the missionary position also required a vow of celibacy.

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I feel as though for nearly two months now our blog has sounded a lot like this:

Blah blah blah… When we get pregnant… Snarky snark snark… We won’t be doing this… Yadda yadda yadda… When we have a bun in the oven…

So I thought today I’d switch things up with 5 Reasons I’m Glad I’m Not Pregnant. I’m not really that glad, but I’m going to give “living in the moment” a brief try, just for fun:

Lulu looks like Frodo Baggins?

5. Still have time to order a Tom Collins.

4. I still fit into my skinny jeans, which look fab-tastic with my new Frye Engineers (pictured on Lulu).

3. Nobody tries to touch my belly.

2. When I run I still have that amazing bionic woman, totally-in-control-of-my-body feeling.

1. The truly hilarious, fun, and kindhearted TTC Twitter friends I’ve made! #teamcrabs #twitterfriendsarereal

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Lulu meets Irene. Here are some pics we snapped with our HurriCam:

Lulu checks on the weather the old-fashioned way

For giggles, she watches reporters getting blown about on TWC (bad Lulu!)

Lulu examines our dry food supplies (and claims it all)

Stuck inside with us all day, Lulu plans her next getaway

Hurricane Irene isn't playing, but Lulu is!

Close-up for real talk: Hope everyone stays safe, dry, and healthy today!

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What does Lulu's name say about us?

What you name your baby says more about you than your baby, according to this post on Parents.com. This should go without saying. Unless you’re planning on naming your baby “Baby,” “7 pounds, 11 ounces,” or “Nipple-Clencher”, then I doubt your baby’s name will actually provide much insight into its personality.

For the busy reader, I’ll paraphrase their findings for you:

1. If your child has an unusual name, you crave the spotlight. Examples: Pilot Inspektor, Kal-El.

Because the best way to get the rest of the world to pay attention to you is to make everyone think you’re an asshole.

2. If your child has an old-fashioned name, you’re on the conservative side. Examples: Agnes, Homer.

So expect a run on old-fashioned names like Rush, Mitt, and Dubya in the near future.

3. If you choose a creative spelling, you dare to be different. Examples: Ryder, Rocko.

Or you’re illiterate.

4. If you choose a family name, you’re sentimental.

Or possibly just vain.

5. A pop culture name means you’re looking for a confidence boost. Examples: Monroe, Lennon.

Because nothing raises one’s confidence like raising the bar of expectations for your child.

6. If you go with a unisex name, you focus on success. Examples: Kelley, Mason.

Or perhaps you were given unisex hand-me-downs.

7. If you name your child after a destination, you’re adventurous. Examples: Memphis, Brooklyn.

Unless you actually live in Brooklyn. Then it simply means you’re lazy.

So what do you think, readers? Does a baby name say more about its parents than the baby? And if so, what does it have to say?

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Today we wanted to try something new — a poll!!

This isn’t just for people TTC or pregnant. We aren’t pregnant and we are going to to play! We wanted to know what you guys think… How do you refer to the inhabitant of the baby bump?

I like it. It is a tad impersonal, and bound to change when my hormones do, but for now it is good.

Patrick likes peanut (awwww!) and womb-kicker (yeah, not so cute anymore).

If you prefer an option that is not listed, like womb-kicker, feel free to add a comment!

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This blog post is not for the faint of heart. If you’re squeamish, stop reading now. Seriously. Okay, you’ve been warned.

As I’ve documented before here and here, I’m pretty clueless and a bit delicate when it comes to the realities of childbirth. Pregnancy does things to a body, and they’re not always pretty.

(But I *am* looking forward to seeing Gilly in her maternal bloom. That will be beautiful. Seriously.)

I’ve been following American Baby on Facebook for several weeks now. They post good stuff there, and do a great job of engaging their readers. Then they posted this story and I almost vomited in my mouth a little. Then I clicked on the link, and up it came. (Okay, seriously, this is your last chance to turn back.)

A woman pushes a lot of things out of her body during childbirth, and only one of them is a bundle of joy. So why on earth would any mother eat the placenta?

This is a zinnia we grew in our garden. Isn't it pretty? It's much nicer to look at than a placenta. But if you really want to see that instead, click on the image above.

The article states that most mammals eat their placentas after giving birth. I don’t have the science to back me up, but casual observation has also revealed that many animals also eat their own sh*t and vomit.

The article mentions that the placenta is high in iron, vitamins, and hormones. So are a bar of steel, a bunch of broccoli, and a monthly dose of Yaz, but I’d only consider eating one of those things.

Some places will grind it up into pill form for you. Others will serve it with ginger, lemon and a jalapeno pepper.

One woman mentions that it gave her the “wildest rush.” Call me crazy, but when I want a rush, I think all in all I’d rather ride the Thunderbolt, run with the bulls in Pamplona, or take a taxi ride in New Delhi.

If you peer beyond the ick factor, doesn’t this all smack of a wee bit of auto-cannibalism? Should mothers really be setting their inner Hannibal Lecter loose so soon after childbirth?

What’s next in the placenta craze: a cookbook, a restaurant, or a show on Bravo? Because if I see a fried umbilical cord challenge on Top Chef, I think I’m going to lose more than this afternoon’s lunch.

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