The other day my co-worker was standing on a street corner with her two-year-old, who was strapped into her stroller. Her daughter had managed to wriggle her little arm out of the shoulder strap, when a woman swept up to her with a worried look on her face, squealing, "She's standing up! She's standing up!" My co-worker looked down to see her daughter sitting, but with one free arm waving in the air. No danger in sight. Why the freak-out from this bystander?

I have yet to meet a mother without a similar story -- one mother puts on her Judgy McJudgy pants and makes a critical statement about another mother's parenting habits. "Your baby looks a little cold." "Has your son had a nap today?" "She's standing up! She's standing up!" We generally don't show this much interest in each other's lives. Why, when it comes to parenting, do we feel free to distribute our opinions, criticisms, and reservations about something that's none of our business?

Judith Warner touched upon this in a recent article in the NYTimes, Insult and Injury. It's a good read because these stories are generally entertaining, but there is also an important question at stake: why do moms dump on each other so much? Has a mom every said a snippy comment to you about your parenting skills? Have you ever found yourself guilty of this crime?

Plus:
How to Handle Annoying Advice
20+ Of the Greatest Mom Tips Ever
Getting Over New-Mom Guilt

Today marks the halfway point of 2009, and if you’re like most of us, the resolutions you made in January have long since fallen by the wayside.

Exercise daily. Hmmm…
That worked for a while, but then exhaustion kicked in and sleep became more important than 5 a.m. workouts.

Eat more healthily. Yes! Yes! No…
Does regularly chowing down on a Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich for dinner count? It's always just one, and it’s better than eating a pint of ice cream.

Stop procrastinating. I’m getting around to that one…

Lose 10 pounds. Yeah, right.
That’s been a resolution since 2003.

We could easily renew our resolutions today -- there’s only half a year to go! Maybe it’ll work!

Instead, this time, it might be better to take a different approach. Laura Lippman, a New York Times Magazine writer, picks a one-word resolution.

Your word could be anything: Run. Bake. Volunteer. Read. Listen. Persevere. Relax. Dance. Remember. Enjoy. Try. Give. Dream. Be. Live. Meditate. Reflect.

With only half a year left, what word sums up your year thus far? And, more importantly, what’s your word for the next several months?

Around the web:

Don’t leave home without them: Downloadable travel games (LilSugar)

The real families behind “My Sister’s Keeper” (NYT’s Motherlode)

Do kids deserve a car for graduating from high school? (WSJ’s The Juggle)

The clothing item every pregnant woman should own (Café Mom)

He abandoned nine kids – and now he’s expecting twins (Parentdish)

”I was a marijuana mama” (MomLogic)

A few weeks ago, I went to visit BabyBjorn in Stockholm, Sweden. Stockholm is a cool, fascinating city, an intriguing mix of history with a hip, modern vibe. When I was there, the sun set at around 11 pm and rose at 3 am, and the daily herring breakfast buffet was a first, but it was a treat to see Swedish culture firsthand.

I learned much about BabyBjorn that fell into the “Wow! Who knew?” category. Although they are synonymous with baby carriers, their first product in 1973 was a bouncy seat. Their first carriers were crafted to match parent’s clothing. So far, 22 million tots have been carted in “Bjorns.” The company is still run by the husband-and-wife founders, the funny and delightful Bjorn and Lillemor Jakobson.

They were the first to use dads in their ads, which caused a stir in 1983. France, of all countries, refused to run them. And speaking of dads…I learned a lot about them, too, at least as far as their role in Sweden. I interviewed four of them, on paternity leave -- yep, paternity leave! In Sweden, parents are entitled to 480 days of parental leave, distributed equally between the mom and dad, and it can be taken between the birth and the eighth birthday of each child. No, that zero after the eight isn’t a typo -- four hundred eighty work days! That is in addition to the 60 days they get to look after a sick kid -- that’s 60 days per child, per year!

I know, this all sounds incredible. And just as amazing, the men actually take paternity leaves. I asked Victor, a 30-ish teacher, if he had any hesitations about taking his leave. He answered, “No. It’s like drinking water when you’re thirsty.” He feels that the more time he spends with his child, the more respect he gains. Jon, a webmaster on hiatus, notes “It’s an opportunity you only get once; you’d be stupid not to take it.” Then added, “You realize it’s a lot of work, though, when you do it yourself.” Both said groups of dads hang out in parks as often as groups of moms. (These daddy groups, I couldn’t help but notice, sported Bjorns in greater numbers than one sees even in Manhattan). Both guys said they do grocery shopping and laundry during the day, in between their junkets to the park.

I also visited a daycare center, where I learned equally unbelievable truths: every baby is guaranteed a spot in a daycare center, for which the parent will pay, at the time I was there, roughly 120 US dollars a month for full time care, even less for older kids and siblings. The cleanliness, amenities, and staff ratio of the center I saw trump those of the center I paid over $1,000 a month for on Long Island.

I’ll close with this little tidbit: employers in Sweden by law can’t refuse a mom’s request to work part-time if they have a child younger than 12.

I don’t even know where to begin to comment on all of this, so I’ll turn it over to you, fellow moms of America.

A recent study in the British Medical Journal caught me up short: It said that kids should be kept in rear-facing car seats until the age of 4. I pictured my own preschooler in a rear-facing car seat: The image that came to mind was of Wyatt practically folded in half, with nowhere for his on-the-verge-of-gangly legs to go.

At the same time, I could see why the BMJ findings made sense; what I couldn’t figure out was what I, or the mom of any little kid, should do with this info -- especially since I was pretty sure that the American Academy of Pediatrics, official recommendation on when to do the car seat flip-flop is when a child is at least a year old and weighs at least 20 pounds. So I called up Ben Hoffman, a pediatrician in New Mexico who’s on the AAP’s Committee on Injury, Violence, and Poison Protection and who’s also a nationally certified passenger safety technician (read: car seat fitter).

Dr. Hoffman gave me a quickie synopsis of the British study that caused me to regard the concept of car seat graduation in a whole new light: "Most parents tend to think about it as a right of passage,” he said. "What the study highlights is that it’s really not: Every time you move up, you lose protection.” He cited another study, published last year in the Journal of Injury Prevention, that showed that kids between 1 and 2 are more than five times more likely to be injured forward-facing than rear-facing. He went on to explain that when a child (or anyone!) is rear-facing, the force of an impact is spread over the entire back, so there’s less chance of serious injury. On a tot who’s sitting face-forward, all the impact would be concentrated where the harness straps of the car seat are touching his body. Plus, his head would be thrown forward; if he’s sitting backward, the seat would cradle his head and neck.

Finally, he underscored that the AAP’s 1 year/20-pound guidelines are absolute minimums: In other words, the point is not that at a year old you should turn a child around, but rather that a child should be at least a year old and weigh at least 20 pounds before you do it.

It all made sense, but to my knowledge there are few backward-facing car seat designed to accommodate the typical 4-year-old, which brought me back to my original question: What exactly do I do with this knowledge? The bottom line, Dr. Hoffman told me, is to keep your child rear-facing for as long as possible, up to the weight and height limits listed on his car seat.

If you’re interested in purchasing a seat that does allow preschoolers to sit backward, there are a few models on the market. Orbit’s Toddler Car Seat (shown, $360) is designed to be rear-facing up to 35 pounds. And Graco just came out with My Ride 65 ($159.99) that’s safe for rear-facing kids up to 40 pounds.

Meanwhile, I’m relieved that Wyatt’s fine in his forward-facing seat: I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have taken a reversal sitting down.

I've seen every episode of Jon and Kate Plus Eight, and clearly I'm not the only one fascinated with the Gosselin family. Like many of the show's fans, I was often taken aback with Kate's gruff attitude toward Jon; calling him stupid in front of the kids or yelling at him in public. Still, I was excited to meet her. She didn't seem nearly as excited to meet me -- she wouldn't look me in the eye and sat stiffly in her chair with her arms crossed in front of her chest. (Her hair, I must say, was every bit as perfect as I imagined it would be. So blonde! So... spikey!) She eased into the interview after a few minutes though, loosening her shoulders, laughing, and getting animated about her children.

She got fired up when we started talking about her help. Kate Gosselin does not like the word "nanny." It isn't allowed in her household. To Gosselin, it implies her biggest fears: loss of control and her role as a mother.

She was most emotional when talking about this Fall, when all of her children would attend kindergarten three days a week. "It's going to be too quiet," she said. "Kind of sad." It's hard to picture her alone in her house -- something that she said has happened only twice since she moved in. As I pushed her to talk about how she felt, she looked at Rachel, the Director of Parenting.com, and said, "Is she trying to make me cry?"

Of course we asked about Jon. Did she want to talk about any of the nasty rumors that are plastered all over the tabloids? No.

The first episode of Jon and Kate Plus Eight: Season Five was hard to watch. Those crooked houses were a little too symbolic. I'm glad the show is taking a break; I think everyone needs it.

Read the full interview here.

Photo courtesy of lunaparc.com

At first glance, these earrings may seem like modern, artsy pieces, but look closer -- they're actually little sperms and, uh, fallopian tubes. Now we know when you’re trying to have a baby it’s all you can think about – and maybe all you can talk about too. But do you really need to broadcast your TTC status with your accessories? I definitely don't want anyone saying to me, "Lauren, you have a sperm on your ear." What do you think? Do you think they're over-the-top? Would you wear them? ($70 a pair, lunaparc.com)

A lot of us make jokes about Mommy needing a martini, but for Rachael Brownell, author of Mommy Doesn’t Drink Here Anymore, the joke turned out to be pretty dark.

After having twin girls, Brownell found herself a frazzled, busy mom juggling a family and career. To help take the edge off, she made a glass of white wine an afternoon ritual. Soon, one glass became four or five, and it wasn’t long until a box of wine lasted her only a couple of days.

Brownell’s book is rife with accounts of her mood swings, sex problems with her husband and vomiting at the twins’ school. What’s unusual is that a nagging feeling, not a DUI or other dramatic hit-bottom moment, made her admit her problem. After telling her brother about her drinking, she starts Alcoholics Anonymous the same night. “I know something is very wrong here,” she writes. “And I think my drinking might be making it worse.”

The book scores points for its honesty and dark humor, and you’ll finish it in a pool- or beachside afternoon. But I wanted to hear more about how Brownell’s alcoholism affected her family, especially her daughters and mother, who was an alcoholic herself. Still, its diary-like style will keep the pages turning, even if you’re a mom who has never touched a drop.

When I was pregnant with my first, we naively told the world our baby name choices. The girl name, Chloe, passed muster (thank goodness, since it was the name we ended up using). The boy name…let’s just say certain members of the family, well, hated it and did not hesitate to tell us so. And then they called back later to tell us some more what an awful name it was. I still loved the name choice, but the negative reaction soured my husband. We were grateful to have a girl, because we never did really settle on a boy name that we loved as much.

Ok, since you’re dying to know the terrible name, it was Oliver. Completely cute, right?

This time around, our baby name choice is a close-guarded secret that no one in the entire world can pry out of us, despite repeated attempts. We’ve actually had a really tough time deciding, so in a way outside input would have been nice, but we were just too scared of baby name backlash. (Oliver, by the way, is off the table, having been used by good friends of ours.)

Did you share your baby names before your baby was born, or did you keep it a secret?

For me, the word "foundation" conjures up an image from my teenage years: a vision of thick, sticky fluid applied with a sponge. Girls who used foundation always seemed to have an orange line right at their jaw bone where the makeup ended and their real skin tone began. I steered clear of foundation for a long time.

Years passed. Now I no longer have the arrogance, or skin, of a teenager, and I wouldn't mind a little help evening out my blotchiness -- especially since I'm seen almost exclusively under fluorescent light every day. Help me, Avon Pure Minerals.

The product: This time around, I'm trying out a few things from a product line. Avon Pure Minerals is a suite of cosmetics made with (duh) minerals, all in clean, chic, low-key packaging. I tried the foundation in Light Beige, the blush in Perfect Plum, and the eyeshadow in Golden Moss. (The collection includes lipstick and eyeliner, but I didn't try those.)

The process: All the products I tried were loose powders packed in pots with little sifter trays at the top. You shake a teeny bit of powder into the tray, swirl it around with the appropriate brush, and then tap off excess powder before applying to your face.

I started with the foundation, which I swirled onto my brush, and then onto my face. (There's a lot of swirling in the world of mineral makeup, which is actually pretty fun.) The foundation color was subtle and when I was done, there wasn't even a hint of that orange foundation line I remember from teenagehood. Just a smooth, matte face ready for whatever I was going to do to it. Which happened to be applying my mineral blush in Perfect Plum, which I also swirled on, but with a lighter hand. Not light enough, though. The trick with mineral makeup, I find, is that you have to tap really vigorously once you've loaded your brush, or else you're going to end up with more color than you bargained for. Applying the eye shadow was pretty much a no-brainer; just load the eye shadow brush and go. Golden Moss, my color of choice, was a pretty, shimmery neutral that I liked as an all-over lid color.

The powders I tried were all smooth and feather-light. And it's not hard to do it right. After that one vivid blush misfire, I had the technique down.

So, notice anything different? A number of colleagues commented: "Matte." "Clean." "Fresh." "Not as dewy as your normal look." (Read:"You look less sweaty than usual today" – not a bad thing.) So, a uniformly positive response.

The verdict: A makeup collection that's easy, clean, comes in real-life shades, looks good, and is actually difficult to screw up? Total keeper. With summer officially here, it'll be nice to be able to control my "dewiness" – when the sun finally re-emerges and the temps go over 75 degrees.