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Milking It, From Breast to Bottle to the Rest

This post is part of Mom Central Canada blog tour for Natrel Baboo.

Baby Mary is 14 months old now which puts her well past baby food and on the verge of trading in her bottles for a steak knife. Part of that transition involves switching from breast milk or formula to cow’s milk. Or, better yet, introducing cow’s milk as a compliment to breast milk and a balanced diet.

I remember when Colum turned a year and I pretty much instantly started offering him cups of milk with every meal. Here was a baby who had only ever had breast milk or water to drink his entire life and now I was feeding him relatively large quantities of milk all at once. Looking back, I wouldn’t be surprised if the slow weight gain and loose bowel movements he experienced after his first birthday were related to that. It’s quite possible he had some difficulty properly digesting the milk protein.

I introduced milk a little more gradually with Irene and didn’t have any problems (though she was skinny too) and planned to do the same with Mary. By the time she was 13 months, however, I noticed the same loose stool as Colum had and wondered if it was related to the newly introduced cow’s milk or a recent virus or both.

So it was pretty perfect timing when Mom Central Canada offered me the chance to try out a new transitional milk by Natrel. Natrel Baboo is milk that has been altered to meet the needs of toddlers between 12 and 14 months. It has less protein than regular cow’s milk (woot!), more milk fat and added omega-3 and vitamin C. Head over to their website for even more detailed information about the product.

After a couple days of Baboo in her sippy cup (in addition to breastfeeding and a healthy diet), Mary’s bowel movements returned to being well-formed and regular. Of course, she may have just been getting over a virus that had caused some digestive upset. It’s hard to tell.

I do know that she really enjoyed drinking the Baboo and that I really liked the convenience of the little tetra pak, juice box-like containers it came in. (It’s also available in one litre tetra paks.) They have a shelf-life of four months and do not need to be refrigerated. How great is that for when you’re on the road?

I won’t likely replace her homo milk completely with Natrel Baboo (if only because the homo is so good in my coffee!) I will keep a few of the little tetra paks on hand for trips and outings and for when she’s sick and her digestive system isn’t at its best.

I was quite pleasantly surprised by how useful this product really is. And good news! You can try out a free sample yourself by heading over to their Facebook page right now: https://www.facebook.com/natrelbaboo

Disclosure – I am participating in the Baboo Blog Tour by Mom Central Canada on behalf of Natrel. I received compensation as a thank you for participating and for sharing my honest opinion. The opinions on this blog are my own.

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The Price of Free Toothpaste: Mom Blogging and Brand Ambassador Programs

What happens when a giant, multinational corporation decides to pay brand ambassadors in free product and “fun opportunities”? A case study.

The back story:

I received an email a couple months ago inviting me to spend a day at the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto learning about various Proctor and Gamble brands. Joining this “blogger ambassador” program would involve displaying a P&Gmom badge on my blog, writing and tweeting about the event and the products and regularly sharing news about new products and promotions and hosting giveaways.

The invitation closed with this paragraph, “As a P&Gmom, you’re part of our family. Throughout the year, you’ll be involved in unique programs, be first to try new products and have access to our experts. Our hope is that by providing these opportunities, you’ll share your experience with your readers.” How heartwarming.

Now, I’m not necessarily opposed to providing a brand with cheap publicity, if I think there’s something in it for me and if the brand is a good fit. I’m hustling for a freelance buck any way I can. So I replied to the email and asked for clarification. These future opportunities? Would they be paid? Even if I didn’t get paid for my time at the Four Seasons, I might consider joining the program if it meant a series of sponsored posts or some other form or payment down the road.

The response I got was this: “The P&Gmom blogger ambassador program does not involve monetary compensation, although involvement involves compensation with exclusive access to events, products and other exciting opportunities.”

I declined.

But even if, hypothetically, they were willing to pay me, I still would have had a decision to make. They were asking me to become a brand ambassador, to link my name with their brands and to proudly display their badge on my blog. They were asking for an ongoing relationship in which I would be a mouthpiece for their brands. So even if they were offering to pay me (which they weren’t), I would have done a lot of research and asked a lot of questions before deciding if that was something I was willing to do.

The action:

I declined to join the ambassador program, but many others did join. And, honestly, I don’t judge. A day at the Four Seasons, for me, would mean a giant childcare headache, a subway commute downtown and then being home in time to cook dinner. If I was getting flown in from another city and put up in a swanky hotel for a night, it might have been a different story. Who knows?

And, full disclosure, I often go to brand events and throw up a few tweets with their hashtag in exchange for whatever experience I’m getting and I don’t usually do any research or ask any tough questions. If I am promoting a product on my blog or getting paid to do a sponsored post, I do a quick Google background check looking for any controversies or PR disasters I should be aware of. But I can certainly do better. My standards are mediocre at best.

There are a couple smart mom bloggers, however, who hold us all to a higher standard. Annie from PhDinParenting is one woman who doesn’t believe in giving brands a free ride —  and certainly not giant, multinational corporations with whom we entrust the health and safety of our families. And when Annie starts asking questions, her 66, 278 Twitter followers and countless blog readers tend to listen.

So Annie got wind of the P&Gmom program (which is happening today,  by the way), and started voicing some concerns. Here’s a taste:

And my favourite because Irene would totally eat these.

We’ll see what happens, but somehow I don’t think the P&Gmoms  are feeling quite as special as they did when they first got the email that read, “We have scoured the Canadian blogger landscape to find the top 40 influential and upcoming bloggers and found you.” I mean, it’s flattering, it really is. Hey, I had an “aw, shucks” moment when I read that.

The lessons, so far:

Mom bloggers, if you are going to link your name and your blog to a giant corporation, you do have to be ready to answer tough questions (or at least ask them). I would love to see more bloggers standing up for their own worth and demanding that big, multi-billion dollar corporations pay them for their trouble.

Repeat after me, mom bloggers, “I will not work for toothpaste.”

Brands, you do get what you pay for. If you want spokespeople who are going to be able to respond to questions like Annie’s with poise and to deliver your message eloquently, accurately and effectively, you are going to have to really do your research, find the perfect fit and then make it worth their while.

Because Annie and others like her are not going to stop doing what they do. In fact, you should probably start listening to their concerns.

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School Picture Fail

School picture money was due yesterday. Guess when I realized that? Hint: The answer is today.

There is a $10 late fee  per child for ordering prints after the due date. So, I’m not a math whiz, but I think I can figure this out.The cheapest package is $25 times two plus another $10 times two. That’s SEVENTY FREAKING DOLLARS, people. And for what?

For these:

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They amputated his lower lip for the second shot! They stuck him out in the snow and cut off his lower lip!

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Hmm. Glum versus possessed. Tough call. This doesn’t even look like my daughter! (Although the messy ponytail is totally mea culpa. I forgot it was picture day.)

Seventy dollars, oh my goodness. So clearly I didn’t order any. I may have been tempted to get some sibling shots, but since Irene is in morning kindergarten and they were taken in the afternoon only, that’s not an option. I’m pretty sure the parent council pays for everyone to get a class picture no matter what. That’s all I really need.

How about you guys? Did you order school pictures this year? Maybe if orders really start dropping off, they’ll be forced to actually try and take a decent picture.

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Beyond the Gear


This post is sponsored by Playtex Mommyville.

I was 37 weeks pregnant with my first baby and had already registered for my baby shower when I sat down at the computer and Googled “what does a baby need” for the first time. I was so focused on the pregnancy and the birth that I had barely thought about what would happen after — and what I would need.

So of course there I am, with layette list upon layette list and I started to panic. Would I have enough swaddling blankets, onsies, sleepers, hats, and socks? Babies need socks?! I started to add random things to my registry and tried to vacuum behind the bed. Well, either that or I scrubbed under the stove. Hey, I’m not the most rational and organized house keeper to begin with. Nesting messes me up.

 

Here I am in ancient times when they still made cameras with 2 megapixels, leaving for my baby shower.

Thanks to some very generous shower gifts and a slew of lovely hand-me-downs, however, I had most of what I needed before my baby arrived. (And by “arrived,” I do mean was thrust into the world after more than two days of early labour and nearly 24 hours of hard labour, two epidurals and half the world’s supply of oxytocin. You know, “arrived.”) I had all the onsies, sleepers, hats and socks I needed. I had a host of darling little outfits, a stack of receiving blankets and enough teensy little hooded towels to dry off the national swim team (if they were babies). I had a car seat, a stroller, a bouncy chair, a rocking chair, a cradle, a change pad, two slings and a tummy time mat.

You know what I didn’t have? I didn’t have the slightest glimmer of a plan for saving for my baby’s education. Nor did I have a one-stop resource for information and tools that would help me navigate the first year of parenthood.

This is why Playtex Mommyville looks so awesome. It’s an online community where you can connect with other new moms and check out local event listings in your own community, yes. But it also offers expert advice and tips on everything to do with the early years of parenting AND has really great tools that will actually help. How did I have three kids without an immunization chart or emergency information sheet? I don’t know, but I’m printing them up now! Oh, and there will also be monthly sweepstakes and coupons and special offers if you’re into that kind of thing. (Who isn’t?)

But right now, the contest you don’t want to miss is over on the Babies R Us Facebook page. Babies R Us and Playtex are giving away two $2500 contributions to an RESP and 12 $100 Babies R Us gift cards and Playtex gift baskets. Yes, please. Because your baby will be out of that bouncy seat in six months, but an education is forever. I just entered.

 Playtex is a licensed trademark. © 2012 Playtex Products, LLC

This post has been generously sponsored by Playtex Mommyville.

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The State of My House

You should see my house this morning. I was going to take pictures but then thought better of it. I should wait until after the hurricane hits and then blame it on that. Hey, maybe if I leave the windows open tonight the wind might actually sweep everything off to one side. It could not make it worse.

I am desperately trying to find the punchline in piles of clean laundry, toys, game pieces, books, magazines, assorted scraps of paper, grocery store flyers, broken bouncy chairs, empty boxes and all manner of stray shoes strewn across my main floor. I would just put it all away except the playroom has every single bin and basket overturned, toys a mangled pile in the centre of the room, and it’s a full day’s job just to organize it all. Ha ha ha. Is that the punch line?

Or is it in the dirty clothes on my bedroom floor that I can’t even reach to put in the hamper because of the mother effing ceiling fan in a box in the middle of the room. Will we install it? Won’t we? I don’t know! I’m paralyzed right now by all of these decisions. I desperately want to clean out the junk and get organized. I want to streamline. But with every hour spent sorting through a box in the closet, there’s an hour the rest of my house is being torn apart by rabid badgers. (I can only assume, since I raised my children to be blessed little angels who would never, under any circumstance, open up five to ten board games and scatter all the pieces and cards and money and dice everywhere.)

No, no. The punch line is the state of my pantry and fridge, so disheveled and overflowing with a small museum’s worth of moldy specimens in tupperware that I can barely even find space to put away fresh groceries. I mean, it’s no problem to just clean the fridge and organize the pantry except then when do I find time to actually cook the meals? And how do we clear off the table to eat if somebody doesn’t just pile all the crap onto the buffet? And then how am I supposed to find the god damned school library book when we’re rushing out the door in the morning?!

Ah, such belly laughs.

Okay, I need to get my girls and feed them lunch. Then I really should do some paid work while Mary is napping, but I think we can all agree that my sanity is hanging in the balance here. So I think I’ll spend the rest of the day cleaning.

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Stuff I’m Digging: Family Dance Party, Junction Style

Heads up, Torontonians with kids, this looks fun. If you’re not from around here, um, sorry. Maybe there’s something cool happening in your neighbourhood? Or maybe you can make something happen, just like these fine Junction ladies have.

What: A family dance party hosted by Toronto’s own Goodtimes AND a live performance by the kiddie-acclaimed Space Chums.

When: Sunday, November 11, 4:00 – 7:00 pm

Where: 3030 Dundas St. W. Really, the venue is called 3030 and it’s right at High Park and Dundas.

How much: PWYC or $20 per family

What else: An amazing selection of draught beer and special kid-friendly menu to order from and door prizes!

And, you know, we’ll be there too. I’d love to see your smiling faces.

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Have You Guys Seen My Cool Anywhere? I Seem To Have Lost It.

Confession: I learned about Gangnam Style from my six-year-old son. I also learned he was under the impression that “sexy” is a bad word that must mean somebody is stupid. Don’t worry, I fixed that in a nice, age-appropriate way.

It’s not good, though, that it has come to this: learning about pop culture sensations through my children. (He also tipped me off about the Cookie Monster spoof of “Call Me Maybe.”) I mean, it feels like I’m on the internet all the time and he doesn’t even have  a clock radio in his room. The truth is that he has a class full of peers at school and that I mostly just use the internet to write and keep up with emails and messages while taking care of three kids and a perpetual mountain of laundry.

Of course, not knowing about Gangnam Style is just symptomatic of a more pervasive ignorance. I’m out of it, people. I really am. I was never the most cutting edge music or culture geek that I knew — but, then again, I knew a lot of geeks. But I was, generally, aware of what was out there and what I liked and what kinds of things I would probably like.

Then I became a mom. (I became a mommy blogger, no less, which leads to the assumption that I have a deep and persistent desire to make food shaped like animals and write endlessly about laundry detergent. You should read Australian “mummy blogger” Eden Riley’s take on that at Edenland if you haven’t already.) I became a mom and suddenly lost interest in anything that didn’t directly relate to caring for my child. Wait a second.

No, it was more like how your body shuts down during a crisis and the most essential functions are given priority. Or it’s like when you’re working the floor by yourself on a Sunday evening and the entire restaurant fills up at once because of the mid-summer theatre festival around the corner that nobody thought about. You forget about refilling water glasses and bussing empty tables and keeping the bar tidy or pushing fancy cocktails. One by one, all the extraneous tasks fall to the wayside and you get a kind of tunnel vision. If you can just get all the orders in and the food out, keep moving and keep a running tally of things to do next, you might make it through the night alive.

Babies are like that. They are all encompassing and incredibly time consuming. Now that I think about it, I’ve been living in crisis mode for years. I’ve been the full-time/primary caregiver to my one, then two and now three children while working part-time from home and occasionally, you know, moving into a house without a kitchen or being incapacitated by a seriously messed up pregnant pelvis or otherwise dealing with whatever massive obstacle life throws my way.

So you start shedding the excess. First-run movies  are the first to go, followed by any kind of movie or book or series of anything that’s going to require some sort of commitment to narrative on my part. Next goes newspapers and magazines and any music that’s not already loaded onto my iPod that I can’t find most of the time anyways or playing on the car radio. The radio is NOT, by the way, a reliable source for any music that’s worth listening to. Then the rest drops off: online articles and blogs, anything to do with fashion, and even TV. Next thing you know you’re only left with Facebook and that is not a good place to be.

I just took a break from writing this to read Kate Carraway on The Atlantic Wire’s Media Diet column. She was listing all the different magazines she regularly buys and wrote that, “Once a year I buy a cooking or decorating magazine and then remember I am way too young and cool to be doing that. Juuust kidding. No I’m not.” Seriously! It doesn’t even have to do with age, it has to do with interest. I need to stop buying into the myth that my tastes and interests are supposed to have limitations just because I’m somebody’s mother.

I’d much rather spend two hours reading literature or insightful journalism or watching a good movie or listening to good music than baking precious birthday princess cupcakes for my daughter. And I don’t think that makes me a crappy mom either. It may even make me a good one.

Now that Mary is over 13 months old and my head is emerging from it’s postpartum haze, I feel like I have the energy to do that. I’m ready to dive back into culture, especially music. But I need your help. Where do I start? What do I read? The new Helen Spitzer-penned Bunch Family #dadrock column is a start, but I need more. More leads, please, and they don’t even have to aimed at moms either.

Thank you! If I start to become cool again, maybe I’ll even start sharing some tidbits on this blog.

 

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How To Make A Pussy Riot Balaclava

Pussy Riot a Russian feminist punk-rock collective consisting of 12 members, three of whom were arrested in March 2012 following a protest performance (and video release of the performance) on the sanctuary of Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. Two members (who are both mothers of young children) have just been convicted of hooliganism and sentenced to two years in the Russian prison camps that were the Soviet-era Gulag.

So, Pussy Riot, the most kick-ass feminist statement costume of the year. Not that I had to tell you, dear readers.

There was a big costume party at the conference I attended over the weekend and we looked awesome. The costume idea was the brain child of Nadine Silverthorne. The other members of Pussy Riot were played by Rebecca Brown, Karen Green, Emma Waverman, Emma Willer and myself. Emma Willer’s recap sums up our experience perfectly: How to have a feminist Halloween.

And now a craft.

How to make your own Pussy Riot balaclava. (This is not the only way.)

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I got these in the girls section at Walmart for a dollar apiece. They are thin, and tightly knit and double layered.

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Turn each hat inside out and inspect the seam. Carefully cut the inside layer of fabric around all the seams so the hat becomes one longer single layer.

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It will look all ziggy-zaggy at the bottom, like this. It’s fine.

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Put on the hat. (Yes, that’s really me. Don’t be scared.) Use chalk to mark where your eyes and mouth are.

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Cut small eye and mouth holes. Remember, you can always make them larger, but you can’t make them smaller. Try the balaclava on a few times and make small adjustments to the size and shape of your holes.

Pair with a brightly coloured dress, contrasting tights and punk rock boots.

Go forth and spread the word.

#freepussyriot

 

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Blogging, The Conference or High School Redux

I’ve hit that point in a blogging conference attendee’s trajectory where you no longer care what the popular girls think. It’s like I’m entering grade 12 all over again and I know I’m only there for a couple specific purposes. I need to pass finite math to get into U of T, get a role in the school play and see how long I can get away with wearing knee-high red army boots with my school-girl kilt. Uh, wait. That’s not right.

But it kind of is. I attended an all-girl’s Catholic school and it was one bitter cat fight to the end — if you let it be. Grades nine and ten were wrought with all kinds of petty jealousies and flat-out meanness. I wasn’t “bullied,” no, I was mostly just ignored, ostracized and sometimes laughed at. Whatever. I found some fellow freaks and geeks and hung low.  By grade 11 I had my own teen angst rebellion thing happening outside of school and was so beyond engaging in any of the social leveraging and power plays happening in the halls.

But grade 12 was the best. I knew who I was and who I wasn’t. I knew who was worth hanging out with and forgot about everyone else. I passed finite. I made the school play. I wore those boots for the entire day and not one teacher said peep to me. It was a good year.

So even though this is only my third blogging conference (fourth if you count the Blissdom Canada where I only attended the parties), I feel like I’m starting to know how these things play out. There will be some squealing and gushing. There will be a good amount of jockeying. There will be even more ass kissing. And there will be lots and lots of sales pitches masquerading as “opportunities” to build “relationships.” Please.

But there will also be some good friends. There will even be a few good (gasp) writers! There will be people I admire and people I like and a couple people I can learn from. Those connections are worth maintaining. I know there are golden conversations waiting to happen and ghosts of ideas that can spring to life in settings like these. I need to say to hello to a couple people, I need to be inspired and I need to make some real life, honest-to-goodness business contacts. That is all.

So tomorrow I go to Blissdom Canada and we’ll see what it’s all about. I’ll be smoking cigarettes with the rejects in the lane way drinking coffee with some writers. If you want to come over and say hello, I’d love to meet you. If you want to hire me to write stories for money, I’d really love to meet you.

If you want me to share the exciting news about your product in exchange for crap I don’t need, let’s not waste each other’s time.

Squee.

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“Baby-Bagging Incident Sparks Calamitous Hubbub on At Least One FB Page!”

I was passing on some baby things to a friend who works downtown and lives in the suburbs. We’d hatched a plan to have Ed meet her with the stuff at lunch so she could bring it home after work. He took one look at the giant, heavy bags and said there was no way a pregnant woman could carry that stuff home on the subway. He was probably right.

But I decided to snap a picture of the bags and send it to my friend to see what she thought. I didn’t seem to have her phone number in my contact list, so I thought I’d send it as a private Facebook message. That didn’t work out very well and it posted to my wall instead. Oh well, I thought, I’ll just listen to Ed and drive out to see her soon. Nobody’s going to notice a picture of a couple bags on my wall. And then this happened.

And then this happened! A satirical tabloid-style news report on the incident by the hilarious Sean Kelly Keenan:

Dying. I’m still dying.