Most parents would do "anything" to help their sick child get better.  Modern medicine pushed the limits as to what exactly "anything" may entail.

For children who have deadly cancers or organ failures, a Savior Sibling is a controversial, but often effective way to potentially save a child. 

A Savior Child is a child who is conceived with the intention of using their organs and/or tissue to help save the life of their sick sibling.  In some cases, fertilized eggs are tested for genetic compatibility and only those that are genetic matches for their sibling are implanted into the mother.  Tests can also be done to ensure the fertilized eggs do not carry a genetic disorder.

The implications for the Savior Child are immense.  How will they feel about the circumstances of their birth?  How will they feel about the medical procedures done on them for someone else's benefit?  How will they cope with the possibility of the procedures not working and their sibling dying?

How will parents react to a Savior Child who is unable to cure their other child? 

Thus far, the practice is under review in many countries, but has not been banned or prevented from taking place. 

How do you feel about the practice?

Would you ever consider conceiving a Savior Child to save the life of a child you already have? 

Co-sleeping was also blamed in the death of their 1-month-old son Christian about a year earlier. Summa said the Clarks were warned about the dangers of sharing a bed with their baby after Christian’s death and they placed Tristian in “imminent danger” by doing it again with him.

Avoid being the next headline in the Huffingtonpost: "Crappy parents asked to leave place because of wailing toddler." - introducing the new "Sorry I Had to Bring My Kid on This Flight" Gift Bags!

These handy totes come with everything you need to help keep your fellow passengers from strangling you or your little one.  Instantly reduce dirty looks and heavy sighs!  Significant reduction of eye rolling and scoffing!

Each gift bag contains:

A box of chocolates (pass around and hope everyone in your vicinity falls into a diabetic coma)

An eye mask (they can roll their eyes without you seeing!)

Four sets of ear plugs (for the passengers on either side and in front and back of you and your hellion)

A puppet (for the passenger in front of you who wants to make your hellion smile)

Two mini bottles of Vodka (one for you and one for the crankiest passenger)

A list of 10 annoying things adults do that children have to tolerate (read aloud - maybe even get the flight attendant to read over loud speaker)

Roll of Duct tape (if things get really out of hand, show duct tape to passengers and offer to tape your hellion to the chair - respond accordingly)

And there you have it, folks!  Look for your "Sorry I Had to Bring My Kid on This Flight" Gift Bag at your local retailer or ask your flight attendant about one today!

The irony of women being subjugated, objectified, and abused is that we are largely in control of raising the little boys that grow into the men that perpetrate these mentalities.  We are also largely in control of raising the little girls that grow in the women that tolerate these mentalities.

But let's focus on the boys.

Even in Western Society, women still bear the majority of the burden (or blessing!) in child-rearing.  Therefore, the mother is mostly responsible for how a boy views women and ultimately, how he treats them.

If chivalry is dead, mothers killed it.  Manners, sensitivity, and compassion can be taught.  If a boy lacks them it is usually because he was instructed on the fine art.  That is the fault of the primary care-giver. 

There are two ways to teach a boy how to properly treat a woman.  One is by example - the way a woman allows herself to be treated by men and how she demands to be treated by them.  The other is by outright verbal instruction.

We keep looking at society as a whole for the continual demise of marriage and intimate relationships: the inability of men and women to have loving and devoted relationships to one another -- the prevalence of adultery.  This is one of those situations that demand we not look at the "big" picture and instead take a look at the tiny picture...the relationship between mother and son.

It isn't a secret that pregnancy takes a toll on the mother's body.  It can even take a vicarious toll on the father's body.  Throughout my pregnancy, I took many measures to ensure the health of my baby and myself.  Admittedly, part of my efforts were to salvage as much as my body as possible.

My upbringing and active participation in the competitive world of ballet made me extremely self-conscious and I knew that the effects of pregnancy could leave me unfairly focused on my changed body instead of my new baby.  So, I was extremely pleased that my efforts were worthwhile and I was left with just a little needed tightening after the birth.

Obviously, a new baby is very distracting in the most positive way.  I was never so UNfocused on myself and my image.  I was more carefree (in this specific way) than I had ever been.  I was amazed at what my body had accomplished -- more proud of it than any time in my ballet career.  And I was equally impressed by every other mother's body in the world.  We are amazing machines, mamas!  Harsh criticism of our bodies is unwarranted and should go away immediately.

Now, my son is nearing 9 months of age and a sort-of routine has come into play.  I am getting to know him and he is getting to know me.  We are both happy with who we have been introduced to.  So, some of my attention can turn back towards me and as I surveyed the damage, I only have one complaint ... what happened to my breasts?!

I nursed my son for only four months (long story...).  I would have liked to have done it longer.  During that time is when I think my breasts took the most affront.  Without getting too graphic - the constant "filling up" and "emptying" was probably the reason that now, I get the willies when I feel them...

It's not the most drastic thing in the world.  It's pretty subtle actually...they used to feel like they were full of...well, something.  What, I'm not sure.  Now, it's like 10% of that something has been taken away so they feel soft and somehow out of place on my body.

And I cannot accurately determine if I am remembering how firm they were when I was nursing (as, even when they were 'empty', they still had something to offer) or if I really was firmer before nursing.

Was this how they always felt?

*shrug* It's not that it really bothers me.  It's just...different.  Oh, and different apparently makes me do weird stuff like stand on my head before bed (I thought I would have gravity work with me...though sagging isn't really the problem - it's difficult for breasts as small as mine to sag).

Anyway -- there it is -- one of the many wonders of motherhood!

Daycare confirms that 8-month old girl put dead mouse in her mouth when they weren't looking.

My favorite thing about the future of motherhood is determining the morals, ideas, inventions, music, language, and viewpoints that are important to me and instilling them in my son.  I am aware that a certain degree of brainwashing goes into being a parent.  I want him to be open-minded, but that doesn't mean I am not going to share with him the ideas most important to me.

One of these things is social justice and equality.  I want my son to be sensitive to the plight of others, to recognize how far we have come, and how much further we have to go in how we treat our fellow citizens.

Therefore, Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday is an excellent day to take advantage of that part of motherhood.  He is still just a baby and too young to appreciate what is being said, but it still warmed my heart to watch him as he heard these amazing words for the first time.  And I was tickled at how he sat and watched and didn't just try to eat my Kindle like he normally does.

I reflected on the fact that technology has come so far since Dr. King made his infamous speech.  Here my son is watching it streaming on an e-reader!

I wonder if Dr. King would be pleased with the progress we have made.  What would he think of President Obama?  What would he say about where we are going? 

I asked Leo, but he didn't have much to contribute other than a gummy grin. 

How do you celebrate Dr. King's birthday?

Holy crappy parenting, batman!  Are there a lot of selfish @!$%#s out there, or what?  And if they aren't selfish @!$%#s, they're complete morons or they're full of @!$%# liars or maybe they're just lazy bastards.

All of these horrible people (not you, of course) must be someone's fault.  Let's blame their parents. 

I'm a parent.  My kid is still just a peanut.  I haven't had time to @!$%# him up yet and I'd like to prevent @!$%#ing him up if at all possible.  So, what did these parents do wrong?  Such a variety of @!$%#s must require quite a variety of parenting mistakes. 

Let's lay them all out there.  What is the single biggest parenting mistake you can make that will turn your kid into a selfish @!$%#, complete moron, full of @!$%# liars, or lazy bastards?

Be sure to provide your credibility (e.g. "I'm a selfish @!$%# and this is what my dad did to make me this way." or "I know this lazy bastard and his mom....").

Also...let's all agree to not make this annoying blanket statement "I think it's about balance." or this "I think anything in extreme is bad." or anything to that effect.

Parents. Sleep.  Notice how those two words are not in the same sentence?

As a new parent, I have noticed one very important thing about the quest for sleep during your child's baby-years:

No one has the "right" answer.

There are essentially two methods of "training" your baby to sleep through the night.  One is the "no tears" or attachment parenting method which was made popular by the support of Dr. William Sears.  His philosophy goes something like this:

“It is the nature of the child to be dependent, and it is the nature of dependence to be outgrown. Begrudging dependency because it is not independence is like begrudging winter because it is not yet spring. Dependency blossoms into independence in its own time.” - Peggy O’Mara

On the other side of the arena, you have Dr. Richard Ferber.  He supported a "Cry It Out (CIO)" philosophy that involves training a child to sleep on their own by allowing them to cry for a period of time before offering comfort and then gradually lengthening the time between comforts until the child falls asleep. 

One thing that is important to know about either of these methods is that neither is proven solid.  There are reports of success and failure with each method.  And just as one side swears their method is the right one, the other side swears that it is most definitely the wrong one.

So, is it okay to let a baby cry it out?

Female judges were more cynical and critical of other women's maternal commitment (but more interested in meeting them). Surprisingly - and to my relief - both sexes are marginally (1.1 times for men, 1.2 for women) more likely to think a woman looked more attractive with a child than when she was alone.

First, lets clarify what "effective" means.  To be effective, the punishment you issue the kid must lead to an end of the undesired behavior.  If you are using the same punishment for the same behavior over and over again - that is NOT an effective punishment.

There are two types of punishment you can administer.  They have different characteristics that have to be applied to turn them from plain old punishment to "effective" punishment.

The first is a rare, but extremely harsh punishment.  Let's use a frequent adult misbehavior as an example.  Speeding.  The reason people speed is because the reward outweighs the punishment.  You either rarely get pulled over or, when you do, the fine is pretty reasonable.  Or a combination of both.  However, imagine that you only got pulled over twice a year for speeding...but the fine was $10,000 and there was no way to fight it.  Now, THAT would likely lead to a sharp reduction in speeding because THAT hurts!

So, to squash a child's misbehavior using this technique, you would have to apply a very painful punishment.  Corporal punishment is used for this, but the problem is that a swat or two on the butt is NOT effective.  That is why people who use this method are often swatting their kid's butt for the same misdemeanors over and over again.  It doesn't really hurt so the kid has no real incentive not to repeat the bad behavior.

Of course, the amount of pain you'd have to apply to a child to make it "memorable" is probably punishable by your own time in jail.  More importantly, most parents are probably not willing to apply the amount of pain required to be effective anyway.  Thank god.

On the other hand, you have non-Corporal punishment methods.  These are not about pain, but inconvenience.  Let's use the speeding example again.  If the fine for speeding was $5.00, you'd probably do it all of the time!  But what if you car was designed to automatically know when you went over the speed limit by even 1 mile per hour and automatically printed a $5.00 ticket each time?  That would not only add up really quick, but it would be really irritating to have to mail in all of those tiny checks.

The same works for non-Corporal punishment - be it "time out", going to bed early, or taking away a toy or privilege.  The problem here is consistency.  If you give a 5 minute time out for talking back - you have to take 5 minutes (or more if the kid won't stay put) each time.  Most parents give up after 2 minutes or give a time out on Thursday, but not on Friday, then again on Sunday, but not on Tuesday.  If it's not consistent, the kid will test the limit again and again.  

But if the parent follows through every single time - the kid will not want to inconvenience themselves with the misbehavior knowing they'll be annoyed for 5 minutes each time.  It's not worth it. 

I guess that is why they say parenting is not easy.  You're resigned to 3 choices: beating your child senseless, annoying your child senseless, or putting up with bad behavior.

Where's that village?

Children are not born "tabula rasa".  From the day of birth, some babies cry harder, some louder.  Physical differences alone immediately begin to shape the human mind so by the time children are able to run and play, a lot has been decided for them.

The parenting phrase that builds a victim and teaches a child to be bullied is...."Don't be a tattle tale."

What exactly does someone mean when they say this?  I have several ideas of the intent: 1) don't make up stories (if there is some indication that the child may be fibbing just to get the other child in trouble), 2) stand up for yourself, 3) don't make a big deal out of little problems, or 4) I'm too tired/busy to deal with either of you right now

However, all of these messages translate to victimization for the child "tattling".  If the child isn't lying, they learn that adults are not worthy of trust.  If they are lying, that should be addressed by the parent in a more direct manner anyway.  If the child could stand up for his/her-self, they wouldn't have come to an authority figure for help.  What seems like a small problem to you could be a big problem for a child and if they child doesn't feel they can turn to an adult for help, the "small" problem can escalate into a big problem that the child cannot turn to adult for help on.  And the last message simply tells the child they are not important enough to deserve help.

The "other" child also gets a message when they hurt, offend, or push the limits in some way with another child and that child's "tattling" is dismissed.  It tells the "other" child that what they did was okay.  It tells him/her that they are in charge of other (vulnerable) children.  It gives them permission to do it again.

This phrase, uttered so flippantly needs to be reviewed.  "Tattling" is seeking the guidance of an adult and being told not to seek that guidance creates a foundation for mistrust between child and adult and sets a foundation of disrespect for authority in the "other" child.  Neither foundation has a place in our society.

So, kids, start tattling and parents - start paying attention.

They don't do anything useful, but we still have to live by their rules.

Everything takes longer when they're involved.

If we turn our backs for a second, they get into trouble.

Half of our pay check goes to them before we even see it.

We have to fix the things THEY break.

They have a lot to say, but none of it makes sense.

They wear nicer clothes than we do.

We make a big deal out of their tiny accomplishments.

They're extremely proud of their tiny accomplishments.

They're content to sit on their asses all day.

They whine when they don't get their way.

No matter the situation - they think it's all about them.

When you think you finally have them figured out, they change.

We're not surprised when they're bald and have no teeth.

Just when you start to enjoy them, you realize they're full of @!$%#.

Everyone loves the sound of a baby's laughter.  And nothing brings it one more ferociously than a well-placed tickle.

But do babies enjoy being tickled?

There is something about being a teacher and/or a mother that makes one prone to creating songs for children.  These songs are generally accompanied by lyrics that provide instructions on basic, everyday activities (e.g. "This is how we brush our teeth, brush our teeth, brush our teeth...") or express affection (e.g. "Who loves you?  I LOVE YOU!"). 

Bonus points if you make the dog bark while singing your tune.

I find myself regularly developing songs for my son.  I'll even edit them as I go.  

Here is a tune about his obsession with the ceiling fan (to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star):

Spinning, spinning, ceiling fan.

How I wish I were a man...

then I'd reach up and touch you.

Like my mom won't let me do...

spinning, spinning, ceiling fan

she insists you'll hurt my hand!

This is one I made up in desperation when he was cranky and wouldn't fall asleep for a nap (to the tune of That's Amore!)

When you're cranky and tired and feeling like crap

Just take a nap! 

You can sleep in your crib or the couch or my lap

Just take a nap (please)!

And here is one to inspire him to be a good person...which includes hand motions I make him complete (original tune):

This is where I keep my brain (touch your head)

This is where I keep my heart (touch your heart)

Nice to have a good brain (touch head again)

But gotta have a good heart (touch heart again)

if you're gonna do good things in the world! (make arms make big circles)

So, I didn't know it, but it turns out I'm a natural song writer.

Any songs you can share?

10) "Wait Till Your Father Gets Home!" is a classic.  It was popularized in the 50's when a father's only job was to beat the @!$%# out of his kids when they misbehaved.  And if you uttered this early enough in the day, you could have a nice fear-induced quiet for the remainder of the afternoon!

9) "One more bite" is for the picky eaters or anyone who just doesn't like your meatloaf recipe.  The fun with this one is that you can always say it, even if the kid has eaten quite a bit already.  Maybe you had a crappy day at work and you want to take it out on someone who is still blissfully carefree.  Just when they start to get up from the table, you can stop them with an "uh-uh-uh.  One more bite, mister."  It lets them know who's boss.

8) "I'll give you something to cry about" is sort of an empty threat these days thanks to CPS.  But it can be used as a humorous way of letting a whiny kid know they're about to take it too far.

7) "When I was your age..." is a phrase that doesn't even need an ending.  You can use this to clear the room when the game just started.

6) "Nice to meet you, Hungry" is what my parents said to me when I complained I was hungry.  It was annoying enough that it bought my mother another 20 minutes to make dinner.  You might even get 30 minutes extra if you shake the kid's hand as you say it.  That always really pissed me off.  

5) "1...2..." you better not get to 3 or their ass is grass.  The trick to this one is that, the first time, you have to get to 3 and then give some sort of punishment.  And it better be a pretty tortuous one because if it is, from then on...1...2...and BAM! your kid is hustling!

4) "Lights out" because it's bedtime!  My mom used to put me to bed when the sun was still out.  Sure, it was majorly lame, but it also meant I could read in bed!  You can decide how crazy you want to be about bed time: from the extreme "your eyes have to be closed and you have to be laying down, snoring" to the more relaxed attitude my mom had.  She just had one rule: keep your butt in the bed until morning.  That provides a lot of lee way and my brother and I imagined our beds were rafts floating down a river...a dungeon high above a fire pit...an island surrounded by hot lava...a magical cave of wonders!  Bedtime was fun and mom could catch up on her soaps and order @!$%# from HSN.  Win-win.

3) "What do you say??" is the universal manners-teaching-phrase.  The fill-in-the-blank answer to this one could be please, thank you, ma'am, sir, or any combination of those words and "yes" or "no" in front.  Be sure to raise your eye brows as they serve as implied multiple question marks.  You can tap your foot as well if you're the mom.

2) "Because I said so" made spot #2 because it can definitely be over-used.  Some adults think it is funny to use as the answer for everything, but that cheapens this otherwise very useful phrase.  There is a difference between a legitimate question and purposeful dilly-dallying.  You know the difference.  Only use this phrase for the latter and you're golden.  Use it for both cases and you're a joke, pops.

and the #1 useful parenting phrase is....

(drum roll, please....)

.

.

.

.

1) "Do what your mother/father says" is my my pick for the #1 useful parenting phrase.  It lets your kid know that, in this family - together or divorced, it's two adults united against you, kid!  You don't stand a chance!  It is a 2-for-1 deal because this phrase tells a kid you BOTH mean business and it also let's the other parent know you got their back.  You want to talk about building goodwill?  This phrase is like Viagra for dads and a 2-hour massage for moms!  If you're divorced, you might even get the other parent to pass-out with this phrase...lawsuits are dropped...the Heavens open up!  So the next time you hear Junior arguing about whether to pick up his dirty socks or Princess whining that she doesn't want to brush her teeth.  Shout out this #1 useful parenting phrase from the den or the kitchen and make your partner's day!

A message in a bottle written by a French woman describing the agony of her young son's death generated a mystery for an author determined to find the mother...

But when she is found, she feels hurt and violated.

Do you know what you were doing on July 19th in 1991?  If you had a 10-Year Journal, you would!  A 10-Year Journal is a journal that has 10 small entry spaces on each page; each page represents one day of the year (July 19th for example) and each of the 10 small spaces represents a year.  

Each day, you write a couple of lines about your day or what you were thinking and each year, you will be able to see the thoughts from the previous year.  After 10 years, you will be able to open up to any page and know what you were doing on that day for the last 10 years!

Sounds like it could be pretty interesting...or depressing depending on what you're doing with your life...

I have started an electronic version on a website called Penzu.  They have a setting that automatically emails you past entries from your journal every couple of weeks or so...

Journaling is supposed to be cathartic and, over time, if you are consistent, it can provide a lot of self-discovery.  Any tool I can use to better use my short amount of time on this earth is appreciated and I think journaling may be one of them.

The trick is not discarding past entries because you are embarrassed by something you have said.  Total acceptance of yourself is a skill worthy of attempting to achieve.

What would you think if you came across your grandmother's or grandfather's journal after they had passed?  Would you wantto read it or leave it alone?  What about your parents?

If you kept a journal - would you want your kids to read it after you passed?  How about your grandkids?  

After scheduling an induction on a Monday afternoon for the next Friday, I went into labor that night at 2AM.  I wasn't sure I was in labor since I have never been before so I waited until my OBGYN opened in the morning and scheduled an appointment to come in and be checked.  At 10:20AM, a doctor confirmed that I was 3cm dilated and fully effaced so my husband and I checked right into the hospital.  However, the baby didn't arrive until 10:40PM that night, after an hour of pushing.

However, I must admit that the transition home hasn't been easy.  I have been battling a case of the Baby Blues that probably wouldn't be as bad if I didn't feel so guilty for having the baby blues in the first place.  I hadn't been able to stop thinking about how I won't be able to enjoy any time alone with my husband any more.

Frankly, I felt like I missed out on his affection before the baby and having the baby made me realize it would only be worse.  It has gotten better in the last day or two and I am hoping to feel more joy in the coming days rather than anxiety. 

So, 6lbs 13oz, Edward Leo is now a part of our family and we are learning to adjust to one another.  He is seemingly healthy (though has a tear duct that causes some goop in his eye sometimes) and already (dare I say) seems to know the difference between night and day (waking twice in the night for a feeding and a changing).  Breastfeeding is going well and I am eagerly awaiting the umbilical cord to fall off so he will appear less delicate.

Thank you to all for the well wishes and advice over the last few months.  I fear I'll need even more in the future!

I am a daddy's girl.

I was 12 years old when I watched my beloved grandfather writing his name repeatedly, over and over, in a vain attempt not to forget himself. He had Alzheimer's Disease. It was in that moment that I realized my grandfather and my dad (his son) had the same name: Edward.

"It must be a family name!"

I was tickled to discover that we had a family name because we were not a family big on traditions (I had an older brother not named Edward so they obviously hadn't carried it on) and being a very sentimental girl, I decided that, if I ever had a son, I would name him after my father and thus, grandfather: Edward.

When it came up again, I was 17 and mentioned in some specific circumstances in front of my family my plans for my naming my "someday son". My dad looked at me a bit perplexed and said "I'm not named after my dad."

Turns out that my grandmother was close to her brother who died when he was only a kid. His name was Edward and she always knew she would name any son she had in honor of her deceased brother. It just so happened she married a man with that name as well. No passing down of names in this case...

Fast forward to 3 months ago. I'm pregnant and it's a boy! I had told my husband years ago that I would like to name my son Edward. He said he didn't have an opinion - he had a son from a previous marriage and gave him the only boy name he ever liked.

So, when we heard "it's a boy!" - there was no discussion - he would be Edward.

My family thought "oh, cute" - they were not head-over-heels - how precious to name him after your dad! My family doesn't get overly worked up over anything - positive or negative.

Now, we needed a middle name. I suggested dozens of names - my husband turned his nose up at all of them. Weeks went by, nearly every day I would suggest a few more - he didn't like any of them. He is Russian - I offered up some Slavic names. Ick. He hated them.

Then...one day...he sent me an email at work. "How about Leo?"

I knew right away this was a reference to his favorite author, Tolstoy. But since my husband hates Russian names, he prefered Leo to Tolstoy's actual name of Liev.

I thought it was adorable - I absolutely loved it! We immediately began referring to the thing in my belly as "Leo".

Fast forward to now.

I call him Leo 90% of the time. I call him Edward 10% of the time (to family who doesn't live near us and calls him Edward). I have never heard my husband say the name "Edward" unless in reference to my father.

I realize now, after the efforts put into picking the perfect middle name, that the name really is important to my husband. I asked him the other night if he wanted to switch the first and middle names and make him "Leo Edward" instead of "Edward Leo", but he said it didn't really matter and he didn't want to hurt my father's feelings.

I told him - it's our son and he deserves a say in his own son's name...AND that I love both names and don't care about the order. "I don't care about the order either," he said.

Yet, we are still calling him Leo all of the time.

We're down to the wire - the baby is due in a couple of weeks.

How should this little guy's birth certificate read?

Piano lessons, Science Fair Projects, a new car, birthday parties, college fund, gas money, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

What do parents owe their children?

You would think we could agree on something like, say, safety. But then you have parents who think its okay for a child not to wear a helmet when they ride their bike or it's okay for a 4 year old to ride a 4-wheeler -- and others who think that spells "irresponsible".

You could say health. But most parents circle the McDonald's more than once a month or offer up all kinds of treats in place of fruit and vegetables. Or even let their kids drink soda at many meals. I can't get on board with that.

Perhaps we owe them honesty. But then where is the fun in Santa, Easter Bunnies, Tooth Fairies, and any Disney movie?

*sigh* Parenting really doesn't come with any rule book. The government provides some very basic guidelines, like, you cannot beat your child to a bloody pulp or sexually abuse them...but even the punishment rate for these crimes fails to reflect the seemingly serious nature of these transgressions.

As I prepare for my child's arrival - I have only a few things I expect of myself as a mother. The first is to protect my son's health both physically and emotionally until he is old enough to take those responsibilities on himself. The second is to not have any pre-conceived notions about who he is - in other words - pay attention to who he is and who he is becoming....and lastly, to do my best to help foster who is really is without allowing him to feel entitled.

Of course, I plan on offering up my own values along the way: respect, compassion, and education. But my foundation is pretty basic.

The most common mistake that parents seem to make is assuming their child is just like them.

What do you think parents owe their children? What do you feel you owe your children?

I teach small children (ages 3-5 years) "creative movement" and ballet at a local studio in my town in the mid-west. I have four classes and a total of 33 students - of those 33 students, one is black, one is mixed race, and the rest are white.

The child of mixed race is newest to the program and probably the most enthusiastic of all of my students. She has clearly been wanting to do "dance class" for a long time and is a pretty coordinated dancer already. She surprised me the other day, however, as we were waiting in the lobby for class to start - I usually socialize with the parents, answer questions, and engage the children before we line up - and this little girl came up to me and asked "Miss Heather, why am I the only person here who is half black and half white?"

I wasn't sure I heard her correctly at first and then I had to think quick...I wanted to say "because you're special", but then I thought why is it less special to be only one race? I decided to ask a question back - "How do you know you're the only one?" She thought for a moment "Well, you all look white" she responded which kind of made me laugh, she looked around at everyone and there were two older students waiting for a different class to start. They may have been mixed race or Hispanic, but she noticed them and said "Maybe they are half black and half white, too."

"So, see? You're not the only one." I responded and then it was time for class and she dropped it. Prior to her joining the school, I only had one child who was not white in a different class. She was my student last year and is in my class this year. She is the same age as this new girl and had never mentioned it if she noticed she was the "only black girl". Although, the little girl who stood next to her last year was fascinated with her hair barrettes and was often tempted to touch them. They are now best friends and still in the same class together.

Do children notice race on their own? Are they more likely to notice it if they are the minority or if they are the majority? How do we or how should we address race curiosities with children?

How would you have responded to this little girls question - "Why am I the only person here who is half black and half white?"

Last Wednesday, my husband and I got the "mother of all ultra sounds" which checks baby's vital organs and gender (if you so choose).

There have not been any girls born into my husband's family in the last 60 years. He also has a son from a previous marriage. So we were not surprised to hear "It's a boy!" from the nurse.

Now that I know, it is much easier to plan and imagine what life might be like in a few years though, in reality, I probably have no idea. I have a brother who was a great big brother and he was not a "macho man". As matter of fact, he danced in the same ballet company as me and married one of the best ballerinas in our midst. He was and still is a clown.

My father is my hero - studies Buddhism, Aikido, and is a family therapist (though he loves his Monday night football!!). He was and still is full of wisdom that I cherish.

My husband is a scientist who loves literature and philosophy. I am surrounded by great men who enrich my life and the lives of those around them. I cannot wait to add another one to the equation.

Whether this little guy introduces us all to sports or is mastering a musical instrument, debating philosophy with his dad, or cracking jokes with his uncle - I'm thrilled and excited and eternally grateful for his apparent good health thus far.

Here's to the boys!!

Confidence (n)

4. A feeling of assurance, especially of self-assurance.

While there are several definitions of the word - the above listed in the one most interesting to me. When a person we disagree with is Confident - we call them Arrogant. When a person we like is Confident - we call them, well, confident.

How does a person become confident or self-assured? Surely, having security of some kind (emotional, financial, familial, academic) can promote confidence in a person. But there are also those who have security of one or more kinds and they still doubt themselves. Is that inherent?

Natural confidence is the most disturbing as that is the kind that both creates great leaders who are admired and also corrupts entirely...in the worst case, simultaneously.

Some children are clearly, naturally confident. When I teach ballet classes, I see it often. They always stand in front, always answer questions first (even if they are wrong, it doesn't bother them, if they keep at it, they are right eventually). Their confidence results in them picking up combinations faster and seems to often be paired with a competitive edge; either with others or themselves.

On the other end of the spectrum, there are children in my classes who always stand in the back. They always rely on those in front of them to remember steps even if it is well within their power to memorize it for themselves. They only raise their hand if they know for sure the answer -- and they are visibly disappointed with themselves when they answer incorrectly or mess up a routine. In many cases, they have more raw talent than the confident students, but their constant doubting results in them not trying as hard and they fall behind which reinforces their lack of confidence.

Can these children be taught confidence? And, even if they are, what is to stop the confident individuals from ultimately overpowering them?

What lessons are important to teach naturally confident children?

There are so many factors that shape who we are and how we respond to the world around us. One of those factors are, arguably, our family - but of course there are a billion factors that go into our family dynamics as well...one of those is birth order.

Whether you're an only child or if you have siblings, there are said to be predictable characteristics often shared by individuals who had the same birth order.

Only Child: Often enjoys being the center of attention even if they are not particularly outgoing, may refuse to cooperate when they do not get their own way (even later in the work place or relationships),

Oldest Child: Most likely to conform in order to gain approval from others, strives to protect and help others, values being right and in control

Second Child: Develops abilities different than oldest sibling, views things as competition or race, may question self-worth if first child is successful in life

Middle of Three: Perceives life as unfair, is adaptable, is easily discouraged by others

Youngest: Behaves like Only Child, often allies with oldest sibling if the youngest of three, doesn't mind letting others take responsibility or control of situations

Do these descriptions resonate with you and your family? Did you enjoy your family life with the birth order you had?

Gone are the days of a simple mouse and his girlfriend in a Red, polka-dot dress. Disney is no longer just princesses and dwarfs, cheery music and happy endings. It has moved into the 21st century with Pixar movies that entertain adults (sometimes even more than children).

The characters are still lovable, the music is still hummable, the colors still vibrant, the stories still childlike, the morals are still American, and the history is still a bit skewed. But Disney can still make a great movie.

What is your favorite Animated Disney movie?

Mandarin Chinese is just one of several languages that all-American tots across the Chicago-land area are learning.

"Eeek!!" I yell at the furry spider next to the toilet, jumping onto it for safety. My heart is beating wildly and I have goosebumps. Great, now I'm stranded in the bathroom until my husband comes by to save me. I adjust my feet on the top of the toilet seat...making sure the hairy beast with 8 legs doesn't try anything fancy...like suddenly bolting from my sight and winding up in my towel as I go to dry off from my shower. I call for my husband to COME QUICK!

Suddenly, I imagine my future 4 year old daughter screaming for me to come to her room. Her dad is at work and when I arrive in her bedroom, I see the same furry spider on her wall. What to do?...what to do? Instill her with an irrational fear for the rest of her life? Allow a dime-sized, harmless arachnid to reduce her to a helpless, 18th century maiden? No! I scoop up the spider in a cup, covering it with a piece of paper...show it to her.

"Spiders are good for the environment. They won't hurt you. Isn't he kinda cute?" I'll say. Then I'll take her outside with me and we'll release him. After we read "Charlotte's Web", I'll tuck her into bed...and then shudder as I take a shower, scrubbing the icky spider cooties off of me like it's moldy cheese and feces!!

So I wasn't stranded in the bathroom for 20 minutes. I wasn't reduced to a helpless, 18th century maiden. I'm also not quite a nature-loving hippie just yet so I didn't capture the furry monster, I smooshed him. But, this is definitely one step closer to capture and release. Today I smoosh spiders, tomorrow - who knows?

What kind of example will I set for my future child? It has certainly given me pause to look at my own personality traits and consider those I hope my child can avoid.

I hope he or she can capture spiders with a laugh at everyone around them who is shrieking...telling them how they're "good for the environment" and "nothing to be afraid of".

What I learned thus far was that pretending not to be afraid has pretty much the same result as actually not being afraid...and so -- sometimes -- it's okay to be kind, be brave, be wise, be cautious, be happy, or be forgiving...even if you're just pretending for the moment. Because, sometimes, the end result is more important than a genuine intention.

Jaded (adj.) -

1. Worn out; wearied: "My father's words had left me jaded and depressed" (William Styron).

2. Dulled by surfeit; sated: "the sickeningly sweet life of the amoral, jaded, bored upper classes" (John Simon).

3. Cynically or pretentiously callous.

Most of the time, people are referring to #3 when they refer to someone as jaded. To call someone jaded or refer to yourself as such - implies that a state of optimism is ideal and normal and that, by not being optimistic and joyful, you have strayed from your natural state.

The general implication is that children cannot be jaded. Jadedness is a trait that has the potential to come with age. We are to be warriors against the constant onslaught of horrible news, violence, pain, suffering, worry, disease, death, abandonment, lonliness, depression, fatigue, stress, and disappointment.

So, how are you doing on the quest to stay vibrant, optimistic, and joyful? Are you jaded?

Unemployment benefit debates, foreclosures, crippling debt, inflation, regulation...

This is the worst recession since the Great Depression. My opinion? It's not bad enough.

From what I can see, iPads are flying off the shelves, cell phones, iPods, luxury cars, name-brand clothes, and reality TV are still the norm. Teens don't seem too concerned about the lack of summer jobs and they still have the cell phone glued to their ears.

Capitalism is great - Consumerism makes the gadgets go round. But it's time to reset things. We have gotten way too far away from the things that make this country great.

So, I am looking forward to the recession getting worse. I can't wait until we start calling it a Depression.

I think I'll start to take notice when my neighborhood - beautiful, clean, and creepily quiet - has children in the yards, playing hide and seek and running through the sprinkler...because mom and dad can't afford high-speed internet and Nintendo Wii.

I'll start to worry when I see clothes hanging on clotheslines and neighbors sitting on porches talking about current events. I'll be concerned when the kids have chores to do and parents take children to the library for books instead of going to the movies to watch talentless actors make millions of dollars to portray superficial nonsense.

I'll speak up when Abercrombie & Fitch goes out of business and when I go to the hair salon and there aren't a dozen tweens in front of me, getting pedicures.

I'll be scared when singers have to sing. Actors have to act. Musicians have to play an instrument. Parents have to discipline.

But, on the inside, I'll secretly be happy. Happy that we have gotten our priorities in order. Thankful that our ducks are in a row....

And then I'll want a god damn raise!!

Cute cues are those that indicate extreme youth, vulnerability, harmlessness and need, scientists say, and attending to them closely makes good Darwinian sense. As a species whose youngest members are so pathetically helpless they can't lift their heads to suckle without adult supervision, human beings must be wired to respond quickly and gamely to any and all signs of infantile desire.

Observing that many Floridians have an enormous affection for the manatee, which looks like an overfertilized potato with a sock puppet's face, Roger L. Reep of the University of Florida said it shone by grace of contrast.

On a dare.... *shakes head*

Hey Mom, remember when I cried everyday of preschool and always sobbed at bedtime? You would make your "mad face" and point to the school or my bedroom and I'd obediently go even though I wished you would hug me. You confessed you were sometimes worried I wouldn't want to hug you after school or in the morning. I'm glad I always did. So were you.

Remember when you put my hair in a bun for ballet until I learned I could do it better than you? Remember when I wanted to become a vegetarian, but I hurt your feelings when I didn't like your Eggplant Parmesan and decided to give it up? I wish I knew at the time that was called support.

Remember when you told me I was like a tazmanian devil and I left a "trail" of messiness wherever I went and we'd argue about whether my room was technically "clean" and you said you felt like you were wasting your breath? Well, not much has changed. Sorry.

Do you remember the time we went shopping for my junior prom dress and I wanted to a buy a thong to go under it? I complained that you can't wear regular underwear because then people would see your panty line and you said "what's wrong with people knowing you wear underwear?" And we laughed until we cried. And then on the ride home, I played a new CD and the song had curse words, you demanded to know where I got the CD and I said "You gave it to me for Christmas" and we laughed again until we cried. You said, "I guess you think I'm getting old and out of touch." You were wrong. I thought you were understanding and funny.

You said I should worry about my career first and boys second....that I should never stop dancing....that I should not wear belly shirts....that I should know better than to pout....wait to have sex....tell you if I was in trouble.....be nice or be quiet.....not be such a "worry wart".....remember my little sister looks up to me.....and know that you're proud of me.

You said I would understand someday. That I should never have regrets. When grandpa got Alzheimer's, you said that if it ever happened to you, I shouldn't beat myself up if I had to put you in a nursing home. You said, "I'm always just a plane ride away", "Don't limit yourself for anyone", "You'll change more diapers than your husband, it's not worth fighting over", "If you're being a bitch, just admit it!", and "Are you listening to me?"

Yes, Mom. I was listening. And you were right. You were right about everything.