Oh look. Pregnant man is pregnant again.

Actually, he's not a man. She's a woman who has had her breasts removed. And has some facial hair. That's all. Isn't that right? Or is your gender purely about how you feel, which sex you identify with, not the outside bits? Either way. They do seem rather intent on being public about what they're doing so perhaps it's a good thing for education and tolerance

This is why mothers can't do yoga at home.

Salma Hayek is addicted to breast-feeding and Will & Lehmo want to know what it tastes like.

 

I used to do a regular spot on Will and Lehmo's drive show on Triple M but I haven't been in for a radio chat since before I gave birth. I went back in earlier this week and the boys had a lot of questions about breast feeding.

They wanted to know if I did it in public (sure, when your baby is hungry, there aren't a lot of options other than wearing a burka or finding a toilet cubicle, neither of which appeal).
They also wanted to know if I breastfeed in front of male relatives because Wil's sister had a baby the same time as me and he finds it disconcerting when she whips her boob out to feed.
My answer? See the first question.

Last night I reached new heights as a wife and mother.

I am not much of a cook. Not much at all. I am lazy and disorganised in the extreme when it comes to preparing family meals. I've gone through phases of getting it together and following recipes from one of my many cook books and food magazines. But this is not one of those phases.
Slap-dash would best describe my current approach.
Somehow, I have managed to convince my two year old that eating directly out of a can is 'a really special treat'. I'm not entirely sure how that happened but I'm certainly not going to disavow her of that notion.
I am also big on frozen vegetables. Cooked, obviously but from the freezer. I feel far less guilty about this since I read that frozen vegies have virtually the same nutritional benefits as fresh ones. That's a win right there.

Two mothers. Two very different bras.....

Here is Gwen Stefani on holidays in Hawaii with her maternity bra on display....
As someone who is currently wearing maternity bras, can I just say they ARE HARD TO KEEP HIDDEN IN SUMMER BECAUSE THERE IS SO MUCH OF THEM.

Ahem. Anyway. After the jump, a backview of Gwen and a supermodel mother in very different lingerie......

This is Matt. Matt loves porn.

      

"Nineteen year old Matt remembers first looking at pornographic magazines and videos when he was in his early teens. These days Matt always has it on him and can access it whenever he pleases via his mobile phone or computer. He reckons there is no real point in paying for porn anymore because it's all over the internet and it's free. Although admitting he did go through a time of near addiction to porn Matt says 'I don't think there's anything wrong with a healthy sex interest - I'm not running home everyday watching it 24/7. I think you can be a very normal person living a normal life and still have a healthy interest in porn.'"

This is from The Hack Half Hour program. If you have access to the ABC2 channel, make sure you check out The Hack Half Hour on Monday nights at 8:30pm. It's the TV version of the current affairs show Hack on Triple J. You can also watch the episodes online here.

A couple of weeks ago they did an episode on porn and boy did I learn a thing or two. First of all, someone really has to update "Where Did I Come From ". Sex has become far more tricky than just special cuddles. Now when we explain sex to our children, we'll have to warn them about not being photographed nude or in a sexual act by someone on their phone.

Sometimes? Late at night? This is the kind of shit I think about.

Here is a picture of Celine Dion with her child. Quick: boy or girl?

If you said girl? WRONG. It's her son, Renee Charles.

So late at night, when I'm not wondering how Brad and Angelina manage to even say GOODNIGHT to all of their children, or whether Jennifer Anniston will ever find lasting love, I have been known to wonder why Celine Dion's SON has such long hair. And why she doesn't JUST CUT IT. Well, now I know. Because she told Oprah - who admits she has wondered the same thing as me. Me and Oprah? We're thisclose.

This is why I love Naomi Watts.

This is how most women look a few weeks out from giving birth. No make-up, visible roots, uggs and drab, comfy seperates. I'm not saying she looks bad at all - I have a pang of longing when I see a woman looking so wonderfully, beautifully pregnant  - I'm saying she looks real. Fabulously, refreshingly real.

Some other actresses [cough*nicole*cough]? Not so much. Every time they step out during pregnancy or with new babies, they have their hair and make-up done and are outfitted up the wazoo. And there's something about this perfection that always makes me feel cranky,  some may say irrationally so.

Here's cheers to more women like Naomi. After the jump, an almost identical outfit on a different day. God love her....by the end of my pregnancies, the few things that fit can practically stand up on their own.

If you've ever had a miscarriage or know anyone who has, read this.

	Ulla Pugaard

There was a beautiful piece published in the New York Times this week, written by a woman who has had three miscarriages.

"There are no pink ribbons to wear if you’ve had a miscarriage, no walkathons or T-shirts to encourage awareness and prevention. And to the extent that we have a language to talk about miscarriage, it’s full of airy platitudes: “Don’t worry, I had one once, too,” or “I had two, and then — poof — Davey was born, and he’s graduating from college this week.”  

But until you belong to the imaginary club of Mothers Without Children, it is a secret planet of pain, all but invisible to the outside world.

I recently had my third miscarriage in a year. It happened early in the pregnancy, and it was dismissed as no big deal — “chemical pregnancy” seems to be the term of art. Let’s not overreact, no need for hysterics, keep moving. “We’ll treat it as though you’re just getting your period,” as my doctor put it.

The one where my daughter is addicted to sugar......

My Essential Baby post is up, and it goes like this:

"I'm in a café having lunch and my daughter is having a meltdown. On a scale of 1-10, I would rate it about an 11. Of course, it doesn't start out that extreme. Tantrums rarely do, do they?

Sure enough, this one started innocently enough with a deceptively simple request. "I want something sweet," my two and a half year old said as our lunch arrived. My husband had ordered mushrooms and smoked salmon on toast, I'd ordered a burger and we'd planned to share both among the three of us.

"No darling, it's lunchtime," I replied automatically. "We're having lovely lunch, look at this burger! Isn't it big! It looks delicious!" Quickly, her plea turned into a whine. "But I want something sweeeeeet," she insisted. "Oh yummy, this burger is so yummy!" I sing-songed with a slight edge to my voice, ignoring her request. "Would you like some meat? Or what about these yummy mushrooms? Tasty!"              

I was wasting my time and my breath. The whines soon began to crescendo into loud crying as other customers in the café began to look our way. "But I WANT something SWEEEEEEEET!!!"

The rest of this post is here....