Rosie Pope

Rosie Pope, via Bravo TV

Did you watch Bravo's Pregnant in Heels?

If you're in the UK, I have an article in today's Telegraph magazine, Stella, on the show's debut in Britain. If you're in the U.S. or elsewhere, you can find the article here.

I actually worked with Rosie many moons ago at CNBC, before she was a mother and maternity clothing designer/reality star. It was lovely catching up with her and hearing her take on the bizarre habits of Manhattan's most high maintenance mothers. Like all reality TV, some aspects of the show feel really contrived, but I found it good fun. It's always reassuring to think well at least I'm not that crazy.

Rosie's due with a girl in May and is currently filming season two, which takes on (among other things) the crunchy Brooklyn parenting set. Uh oh...

Book Club

Koh Samuii, Thailand, 2009

There's a piece up on Babble about how Japanese school teachers let children resolve their own playground conflicts, without stepping in to say "Be nice" or "Don't hit." The article is excerpted from a new book called How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm: And Other Adventures in Parenting (from Argentina to Tanzania and everywhere in between.)

While some parenting "philosophies" pop up around the globe, it's the differences I find fascinating.

Will and I have nieces and nephews being raised in England and in Singapore (a former British trading post), where strict scheduling is generally valued...at least by the parents we know. Our little guy will be raised in urban Brooklyn, where, as I've mentioned, different theories abound. Then there's the whole French mother debate.

What's amazing is how militant each camp can be, saying things like, "If you don't put your baby to bed at 7 on the dot, he'll grow up to be a juvenile delinquent." Or, "Letting your baby cry it out will cost thousands in therapy later on." Well, not exactly, but you know what I mean...

I kind of prefer the patchwork approach. Guess I'll go see what I can glean from those Eskimo mamas.

11211 Love

A colorful walk around the neighborhood. In a T-shirt!!!

What to Expect

Eat This, if You Dare, 2011

Ah Slate, hitting out of the park again.

I thought I was the only one who took issue with that dreadful book, What to Expect When You're Expecting. Yes I bought it and read it. Occasionally I do look at it again. So many people have asked me if I have it or offered to get it for me. Done and done. It's like a rite of passage. It contains some perfectly innocuous advice. So why did I hate it so much?

In an article out today, Slate's Allison Benedikt is spot on about its "mean girl advice."

There are so many sentences that read, essentially: "Feeling fat, fattikins? That's totally normal." Um, no, I don't feel fat. I feel pregnant. But thanks for planting that absurd seed in my head. It's peppered with passive aggressive digs like "Want some ice cream (fattikins)? Just don't use pregnancy as an excuse to pig out!" There's even a page about how wearing black during pregnancy is "slimming." Yes, perhaps if I avoid stripes and patterns, no one will notice this human growing inside me.

The book is incredibly patronizing about food, body image, sex, and relationships. Take the chapter for expectant dads, which focuses almost entirely on when they can get it on and how a pregnant woman's boobs get really big and then the baby needs them and then they're even bigger but not so sexy and that's natural. It's like it's written for a salivating 14 year old boy. Very little mention of, say, fatherhood.

There's so much junk out there to read, and obviously most women can pick the good from the nonsense. But I'm glad someone else said what nonsense this is. I will be sticking to my Mayo Clinic book from now on.

Gear

via Fore!! Axel and Hudson

Fore!! Fedora

I swear, a lot of the kids in Williamsburg have better wardrobes than I do.

I was checking out Smoochie Baby today and came across mini fedoras from the golf-inspired line Fore!! Axel and Hudson.

Part of me was like Tiny! Fedoras! Baby Rock Stars! I mean they were insanely beautiful in person.

What do you think? Too Entourage?

Family Portraits

At Home, 2012

After I wrapped my gifts this Christmas, I couldn't help laughing every time I passed the tree. When Will opened his small rectangular package, he understood why.

I commissioned a portrait of Sealface!

Thanks to Paul Ferney, our cat has been immortalized. He is now occupying a bookshelf along with our 16 week ultrasound photo.

I found out about The Commission Project via Paul's wife Jordan's lovely blog, Oh Happy Day. I am already plotting one for Dustskulker.

The Original, 2010

Gear

Knock Knock Signs from Etsy.com

The Butter Flying from Etsy.com

Well, these are lovely!

We're nowhere near naming time, but I dig the cloud motif in general. Knock Knock's signs are really special, and I love that this mobile from The Butter Flying isn't too gloomy.

One Track Mind

Our Wedding, 2012

Among my other pregnancy fears? Morphing into one of those people who can't talk about anything but pregnancy, motherhood, and babies.

Last night, I was reading a story in the Guardian about Jody Day, a woman in her 40s who is childless by circumstance. Day laments that her female friends with children can't talk about anything else, and she usually winds up chatting primarily to their husbands at social gatherings. She feels that modern motherhood has become an obsessive pursuit, and she feels deeply excluded from it.

Day recalls a party where she "saw panic in [the mothers'] eyes, as if they didn't know how to have a conversation that wasn't about their offspring." She says these mothers barely even listen to her.

At one point or another in our child-free years, I'd wager most women have found themselves kind of bored by the subject of babies.

I've always wanted my own children, but I can't say that I haven't felt a rustle of annoyance at other people's children, who always seem to be crying or dripping bodily fluids or clamoring for attention in a slightly grating way. I don't generally go mushy when I see babies' toes. And toddlers? Social terrorists.

In our circle of acquaintances in New York, Will and I are definitely reproducing on the early side. It can make you feel like a bit of an alien (in the scifi sense of the word.)

So I have to admit that lately I do feel relief when I speak to the few who do have children or are expecting or trying to get to that stage. This is not because I feel like we're in some exclusive club, but because I'm not worrying that I'm nattering on about something that they find boring or uncomfortable or annoying.

Frankly, in the thick of it all, it's hard not to feel that this impending addition to the family is dominating my brain.

Yes...I am concerned by what's going on in Syria, I can't watch the debate on reproductive rights without wanting to shout at the television, and I love to hear stories of other people's travels and adventures.

But when people ask what's going on with me, it's hard not to focus on this enormous transition or to find the conversation circling it. I can't help it. I find the biology, the psychology, the anthropology of baby-making pretty fascinating at the moment.

But then there's my inner Jody Day, perched on my shoulder, shouting: "Don't be a dullard!"

Jinxing It

Williamsburg, 2012

Trolling around on birth month message boards like What to Expect or Baby Center, I'm often taken aback by how quickly it's so very concrete to people. They seem so very sure of their pregnancies.

4 weeks and they're penning Facebook announcements. 12 weeks and the baby's name is monogrammed all over the place. They're shopping up a storm and buying onesies by the armful for little Grace or Alexander. They say things like: "He really likes oatmeal."

I've even seen ultrasound pictures (in those tickers in the comments) where people have drawn things like tiaras on an image and scrawled "Mommy's little princess!", Perez Hilton style.

Then there's the matter of the baby shower. The invites that say, "Come celebrate Jenny and Jonas" always confuse me. Who's Jonas, I wonder???

I know that not everyone does any of the above. One friend followed her family's Jewish tradition, eschewing a shower and waiting until 8 days after each of her sons were born before naming them. In China, families celebrate the baby with gifts when they've reached 100 days old (and presumably not in utero.)

Whatever these rituals are rooted in, it makes a certain amount of sense to me. I guess, when it comes down to it, I'm afraid of jinxing it.

Then again, sometimes I have to give myself permission to celebrate and to visualize the future. Of course, Will and I talk about names and what our lives will be like with a baby in tow. But a few minutes into the conversation, it's almost as if we cut ourselves short with an unspoken not yet. When I speak out loud about the baby in a real sense, I'm half afraid to say things like "my son."

Obviously, I'm writing about my pregnancy on the internet. So there's a huge leap of faith there. But I'm also hugely superstitious. Beyond that little elephant (another leap of faith), I'm not quite sure when I'll feel ready to click buy, give him a name, actually make some headway on this imagined nursery.

I'm sure the time will come. Just not yet.

17 Weeks

17 Weeks

Starting to feel a little...stretched today.

I celebrated turnip week with a Great Expectations massage at Bliss Soho, thanks to a gift certificate a dear friend gave me for Christmas.

It was truly amazing. I hadn't realized just how much tension I've been carrying in my hips, but apparently there's a lot going on there. I almost feel like I'll be bruised tomorrow (in a good way.)

It was also helpful talking to the therapist about using bolsters at night to help with my side sleeping. I've been making do with my usual, fluffy down pillows, which means my neck is contorted, my hips are in a weird position, and I'm never quite comfortable.

Think it's time to order one of these.

Mama Mio Tummy Rub

She also used some Mama Mio Tummy Rub oil which smelled delicious, so I picked up a bottle as I left.

Meanwhile, a peek back in time:

16 Weeks

15 Weeks

14 Weeks