The ad missed its mark but I'm still a Motrin Mom

Motrin really put their foot in it, didn't they? They jumped feet first into the babywearing phenomenon in their latest ad and came out smelling like a full diaper pail that had spent two weeks festering in the hot sun.

By now you've probably heard all about it - the Motrin ad that caused such a commotion among moms on the internet. I hadn't spent much time on the internet this weekend, so when I opened twitter and noticed the #motrinmoms tag on every other tweet (twit?) I was all "What the hell?". Not wanting to be left out of the latest brouhaha, I searched twitter and Google and was bombarded with posts about Motrin and their latest add targeted to moms, specifically those who babywear. At first I rolled my eyes, because... Really? Not again. Not another kerfuffle about how we mothers are looked down upon! How we seen as inspidid breeders who live our lives through our children while whining the whole time! *shakes fist* Oh, the humanity!

(For the record, most kerfuffles - can I say that again? Kerfuffle. - have been warranted. Mommy wars? Breastfeeding? Warranted.)

This won't make me popular, but I think we should give Motrin a break. Sure, I get angry when someone tells me I shouldn't breastfeed my baby in public. That's worth getting irate about, in my opinion. The ad, though remotely insulting, did not start a fire in me like it seemed to in so (so, so, so) many others.

I believe "Meh" was my reaction.

I tried. I tried to be outraged. I even showed it to Mr. C., my barometer in all things such as these, and he looked at me after viewing it and said, "What? I don't get it." All the fuss? Yeah, it didn't seem to be a big deal.

Seriously, are we hating that much on Motrin and their ag agency because of a sixty second advertisement? They have a great product, a product that does what it says. To be cliche, a name you can trust. I for one use it regularly for back pain. I also used it for post pardum uterine contractions. Now that would have made for a good ad - Ow, my uterus hurts. Pass the Motrin.

But after thinking about it some more it seemed to me that the ad itself wasn't as important as the collective voices of mothers (and fathers too) on the internet who said, "We don't like this and we're not going to stand for it!" I'm very proud today to be in the company of those who were outraged enough to scream and holler until Motrin finally pulled the ad, their head hanging in shame and their tail between their legs. How proud I am today, indeed. Not in myself, who was too busy shaking my head about all I deemed proposterous, but of you. You who raised your voice and made something happen.

The message of the ad, in my opinion, is still not worth the outrage but I do think we need to get to the bottom of what made so many so angry.

Was it the choice of voice over, the "Oh Mah Gawd. Like, totally." delivery? The whiny "What about Meee?" message? Or the fact that babywearing was called fashionable?

I don't know the answers to those questions, I'm just throwing things out there and seeing what sticks.

Sure, the woman was a sad stereotype. The whiny mother who chooses to do it all for her child but whines about it the whole time. I've got news for you, she who has not written a blog post, a tweet, an update on Facebook, or even sat over coffee with her girlfriends and complained about her kids with a tinge of whine while professing her love for her offspring can throw the first stone. We whine sometimes. We complain. And that's okay. We're allowed because this mothering thing is damn hard work and if we didn't whine we'd be hitting the wine by 10am every morning. But stereotypes don't appear from thin air, they are based in reality and then bastardized and lampooned and turned into caricatures of the originator. But they begin somewhere. The ad agency who took that and ran with it ought to be ashamed of themselves to trivialize what I see to be a strength, in that we can allow ourselves, unlike our mothers and their mothers before them, to show our weaknesses. To admit that we want our pain, both physical, mental and emotional, to be agknowledged. But the character was based in truth. Sorry.

Maybe it's the babywearing-as-fashion angle. Is babywearing a fashion? Is it all the rage? If you pick up a gossip rag it might seem so to the casual observer. So, yeah, it is, by definition, fashionable to wear a baby today. I prefer to think of it as a positive trend that started decades ago (in this country. All over the world it is not only done, but necessary) but has gained in popularity. Or better yet - a Movement. Much more empowering than suggesting that wearing ones baby is akin to wearing a pair of skinny jeans.

Taking from my own experiences with babywearing, I have no problem admitting that when registering for baby items before Chicky was born I had no idea what a sling was. We only registered for a Bjorn because that's what everyone else seemed to be doing and surely these new parents knew something we didn't. After she was born I purchased a sling because she never stopped screaming, she never slept and because Dr. Sears said to do so.

I wore my baby and I hated it. Yes I did. I hated it because I didn't know how to wear the sling correctly and I have a bad back and IT HURT. But I pressed on and wore the sling and sometimes, when Mr. C wasn't wearing it, the Bjorn. Because she did sleep better and cried less, so I guess I just backed up the woman in the Motrin ad. I am that Motrin Mom, with less flip. I wore my child, not because it made me look like an [really annoying finger quotes] Official Mom (*gag* Like, totally.) but because it made my colicky baby stop crying. I couldn't care less if I looked like I was wearing a baggy sack around my midsection and it made me stoop like a 95 year old woman with osteoporosis or if it made me look hip and trendy. She was not screaming like a banshee. Fashionable? Pssh. Necessity.

Now I wear C.C. I'm better at it, marginally, and my back still hurts. I do have a much prettier sling this time around so maybe that's where the fashion comes in? I don't know, just throwing and sticking, throwing and sticking.

And I use Motrin to help ease that pain. Yep, yep I do.

Bottom line, I'm not offended by this ad. I relate to parts of this ad. Admittedly, some lines were clunkers (again, the "Plus it totally makes me look like an Official Mom" line was a total stink bomb. Like, totally.) but I will not be defined by a print, radio or television advertisement. I will not be defined by the mother-as-nagging shrew character on popular television sitcoms either. But as I said before, I am very proud of the power of the internet and the strong women and men behind this movement. It's proof that when we come together we (the collective we) can effect change. Now, how about we tackle something more important, like health care, affordable childcare, or outlawing skinny jeans, and give Motrin a break?

Fill 'er up. Unleaded please

I'm having a bit of a Christmas conundrum. This is the first year that Chicky will really enjoy Christmas and all its trappings - presents, Santa Claus, hanging lights and ornaments on the artificial Christmas tree we've committed ourselves to for the foreseeable future

(shut up, I have a good reason for having a plastic tree. I know it's not very "green" of me. I have enough guilt for all of us, okay?)

- but when it comes right down to purchasing her gifts I've gotten stuck. She doesn't really need anymore toys, or more to the point my house doesn't need any more toys in it, so what she gets better be damn special. Not to mention something she'll want to play with until she's 37.

I've told Mr. C that any gifts purchased for our child with our own hard earned money will be from companies that can reassure me that no lead paint or date rape drugs were used while making their toys. I can't necessarily control what others will be buying for Chicky but as her mother you can bet your bippy if I'm going to allow more toys to clutter my already over-cluttered house they're going to be safe. Or as safe as they should be before she learns how to use them as weapons against the dogs. It won't be as easy as say running to my local super retail store and grabbing the first battery powered toy that produces fifteen different sounds, all of them designed to make my ears bleed, but it is as easy as a few web searches and an extra shipping charge.

Unless you've been living under a rock you've probably already heard of Consumer Unions Not in My Cart campaign to keep unsafe toys away from our children (only, like, a bajillion bloggers have already written about it). Well, their Twelve Days of Safe Shopping drive is starting this Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. Or Black Friday as it's so cheerily called. If you're committed to keeping unsafe toys out of your home, and the homes of others, go to their website to see how you can become a Safe Shopper.

Like I mentioned it all kicks off this Friday around the country. However, if you're in the Boston area I've got the details for that local event:

Meet at the Park Street T Station (Corner of Tremont and Park) at 9:45am on Friday morning and then walk over to Downtown Crossing.

As well as Consumer Union there will also be local support from MASSPIRG and Clean Water Action. Local media and maybe a government representative or two will also be on hand. Concerned shoppers are needed to hand out information to the public and talk to the media. Here's that link again if you'd like to sign up to help.

Even if you can't make it to one of the designated Get the Lead Out cities you can help by spreading the word and making others aware. Tell your friends and family about only purchasing toys from safe manufacturers. Make them aware of the dangers of lead paint on our kids (and our pets! Does it never end??) toys. And only buy toys from companies that can tell you with certainty their toys are safe.

In the meantime I will be resuming my web search for Chicky's Christmas presents. I've got my eye on this and this and maybe something like this since it's what she asked Santa for. Okay, she didn't really ask for that. She asked for a doll house. But I thought the other toy was way cooler, not to mention it was awarded the Oppenheimer Toy Portfolio 2008 Lead Free Platinum Awards.

Yes, I'm aware it will take up a butt-load of room in my house. I just can't win.

A waste of life

A few weeks ago a horrible act occurred in my hometown. It not only happened in the town I grew up in, the place that helped define who I am today, but it happened steps away from my grandmother's home.

A woman, whose face I recognized from the hallways of my high school, allegedly killed her two year old daughter. The girl was found in her mother's apartment with multiple bruises to the face, neck and torso and could not be revived. I won't go into what the neighbors speculate happened to the girl, but as I sat in my grandmother's living room listening to the rumors I held Chicky in my lap tighter and tighter and the knot in my stomach threatened to evict the lunch I had just eaten. It's just too horrible to think about.

After we become parents news of a child's brutal death affects us in such a way to bring the Mama or Papa Bear out of even the most placid person. But when it happens so close to home, in a neighborhood where I spent a good portion of my formative years playing pickle in the street, where my sister and I and cousins and friends spent our falls throwing horse chestnuts at each other... Well, I don't know quite how to describe how I felt. Violated? Betrayed?

Yes, this does have to do with me. Not just because it happened in a place where I am familiar but because I am a mother. I know what it feels like to want to squeeze the arm of my child a little tighter than is necessary, hoping the pressure will stop whatever tantrum is happening in its tracks. I know what level of frustration a toddler can drive you to. I know the ugly thoughts that can pop into an otherwise rational woman's head when her child is wailing for seemingly no good reason and can not be consoled.

But I can not understand how a woman can (allegedly) beat the life out of her child.

According to the National Child Abuse and Neglect Data System (NCANDS) data for 2004 children under four accounted for 81% of fatalities due to abuse and neglect. They are the most vulnerable because of their dependency, size and inability to defend themselves. And one or both parents were involved in 78.9 percent of child abuse or neglect fatalities.

Deaths from abuse and neglect are often from chronic extended malnourishment, acute neglect - like a child left unsupervised in bathtub who drowns - or physical abuse.

The study goes on to say: "There is no single profile of a perpetrator of fatal child abuse, although certain characteristics reappear in many studies. Frequently, the perpetrator is a young adult in his or her mid-20s, without a high school diploma, living at or below the poverty level, depressed, and who may have difficulty coping with stressful situations. In many instances, the perpetrator has experienced violence first-hand. Most fatalities from physical abuse are caused by fathers and other male caretakers. Mothers are most often responsible for deaths resulting from child neglect."

In this particular case the woman was not well off, the father was not in the picture (he is in jail himself for something unrelated), there is speculation of drug use and previous depression. But abuse, as said above, knows no socio-economic boundaries. It goes back to the saying "You need a license to drive a car, catch a fish, or own a dog but anyone can be a parent". It could happen anywhere, in any neighborhood. This case just happened to occur in a neighborhood I am very familiar with. And it troubles me.

My grandmother did not know of any prior abuse. She didn't know the woman and her child as they were relatively new to the neighborhood, and never saw anything out of the ordinary. The woman's friends all called her a "loving mother", though some changed their tune after being present at the arraignment.

But I'm willing to bet that if there was prior abuse someone knew about it.

If you know of a child being abused, or you suspect that one is, please contact the appropriate authorities. Call your local Child Protective Services (CPS) agency. This site has a list of hotline numbers by state. Or contact your local police and they'll point you in the right direction.

Or if you are close to someone, a mother or a father, who is close to the deep end help them get help.

I'm not an expert on this subject, just a concerned parent. If you know of any information that might be helpful to someone in this situation please add it in the comments and I'll also add it to this post.

Everyone's got one but no one is talking about it

Do you know what this month is?

I'll give you some hints: It's not sexy. You probably won't find any provocative statements regarding it printed on a t-shirt. The news media won't be coming out in droves to promote it. I'm doubtful that many glamorous Hollywood parties will be thrown to raise money for it. And yet, it's the second leading cancer killer in North America. And almost 154,000 people will diagnosed this year. Just this year. And more than 52,000 men and women - mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends - will die.

Have you guessed yet?

It's Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month.

That's right. A whole month dedicated to getting to know your colon and your rectum. Not as fun as self breast exams. No need to protest big tobacco. And despite their best efforts to promote it to the masses, without the aid of The Couric Effect hardly anyone outside of those already touched by this disease would know about it. So I feel it is my duty to let you know that this month is as good as any to have your colon screened.

The medical community, or more specifically, the insurance companies, want you to start getting screened for colorectal cancer when you reach the age of 50. My mother was 44 when she was diagnosed. A few acquaintances of hers were also in their early 40s when they were diagnosed. This woman was 38 when she found out she had colon cancer. How old are you right now?

This year I'll be 35, the magic age that my mother's doctor told me I should start getting screened at so many years ago. I'm not looking forward to it, any of it: the fighting with the insurance company, the prep, the actual procedure, none of it. Let's face it, no one wants a camera up their bum. No one wants to spend the evening before drinking a gallon of that nasty liquid only to spend the rest of their night on the toilet (have to be squeaky clean for your motion picture debut). But the bottom line (no pun intended, really) is this:

Early detection is key to beating colon cancer. It is treatable. You don't have to die from this disease. If you have a family history, fight for your right to have a doctor prod around down there. If you think you might have some of the symptoms, regardless of your age or history, fight even harder. You are your own best advocate and nobody cares about your life more than you do. Except maybe those who love you.

Colorectal cancer is not sexy. You won't be seeing any famous actors and actresses sporting pretty scarves or jewelry in nationally televised commercials or glossy magazine ads to promote it. No, it is not sexy.

But the toll it takes on your body is even worse.

And death is never sexy.

Be proud to say "I've got a colon". Everyone's got one, who cares who knows about it? Get off your ass and get it checked.

Get screened.