Mommy with a Penis

Jessica Simpson's cover of Elle this month seems familiar, doesn't it? And I don't think any of us has to dig too deeply into our sleep-deprived, vodka-soaked brains to suss out the reference. Who could forget the Vanity Fair cover that Annie Liebovitz shot so startlingly of Demi Moore's pregnant voluptuousness back in 1991? From the exact same pose, to the ginormous bling on their left middle fingers, to the fact these two celebutants are both carrying girl children, the Simpson pic is a duplicate of what some found scandalous twenty-one years ago. (Although I prefer Demi's arrogant in-the-distance gaze to Jessica's in-your-face,  Zoolander  directness.) But this piece isn't about who did what first, nor artistic integrity, nor is it about nudity on magazine covers, which for the record I am wholeheartedly for. No, this is about trends. Recently, Ms. Simpson announced that her baby girl will be named...take a breath here...Maxwell.  What!  For thos...

On many an occasion have I woken my daughter out of a dead sleep (to go to the bathroom or from a car seat nap) and after doing so she has uttered something quite unforeseen: "I'm afraid of spiders," or "Matisse is my best friend." But last night, I could not have imagined when rousing her from my bed to move her to her own room that I would hear her expound, "Princess Celestia!" Princess Celestia is a sparkling, pink unicorn from the My Little Pony series that Maxwell chose yesterday above all of the other toys at Target to be her present from Uncle Krik. Truth be told, this is no ordinary unicorn; she is really quite...well...celestial with multicolored ringlets, and wings that light up when you push the cheeky button on her rump. As it turns out, she is also a chatterbox, spouting ear-cringing inanities. Now, I would never expect a toy with the unwieldy moniker Princess Celestia to extol the virtues of world peace or recite Portia's soli...

My beautiful daughter, Maxwell, is turning five tomorrow. And if I do say, she has blossomed quite nicely in her wee time on this planet. And that's saying a lot since she started life as a wrinkled bundle of distrust. Truly, I know of no other child who could cut her eyes like my daughter at one and a half. But now, she's a loving (and sometimes goofy) little girl who can't wait to share her most prized possessions with her besties. Even this month, as if in anticipation of leaving pre school and embarking upon a busy kindergarten life, she has equally become more open, leading with a confident smile with its adorable overbite, and also more obstinate, showing a strong will and an alarming ability to spin lies. "No, I didn't take your scissors without asking and cut the fur and nose off of Stuffed Lion." Now, this willful independence, as annoying as it can be, isn't my number one concern. As a matter of fact, I'm proud she periodically bucks the syst...