Just for kicks

What started as Marci having vague impressions of movement has now graduated into pretty decent kicks. I can now place my hand just below her navel and feel an occasional "thump." Last night, Marci reported that she could see movement while she lay in the bathtub. It's exciting to have two ways to assess Peanut's progress. These new movements along with the fetal doppler, as well as our recent US, really put us in touch with the little guy.

We just watched a Tivo'd episode of Supernanny. If you are unfamiliar with the format, it's a reality-based endeavor in which a prim, authoritative British woman visits families with misbehaving children, takes notes on the family's activites, and works with them on issues of discipline, etc. I usually see it when I'm on the treadmill at the Y and read the scrollbars. She often works with American families, but she was back in the UK for this episode. The night we watched, Supernanny was dealing with Matthew, a ten-year-old who called his mom profane names and attempted to beat the shit out of everybody.

I thought that a kid who was this profoundly screwed up would be beyond the resources of the Supernanny, but I was wrong. With the implementation of the "chillout chair" and a little "Work It Out" routine (which included some breathing exercises, jumping jacks, and a little crazy dance designed to channel his blind, frothing rage), the kid seemed to have half a shot at not becoming a serial killer by the end of the show.

The root issue was the fact that the parents lived in mortal fear of enforcing any discipline, each claiming that it "broke their (own) hearts" to set any limits. Further, mom never let dad control "her" son (they were a blended family) while dad tended to focus on "his" two daughters. Mom got into the weird habit of taking 3 hours to put the kids to bed, and kept whimpering about how it "broke her (again, her own, not the kid's) heart to leave the room." I eventually found myself on Matthew's side, wanting to kick and punch the crap out of them too.

If some of the little kicks Marci is feeling are any indication, we should probably get on Supernanny's waiting list . . .