What Does 10 cm of Dilation Really Look Like? A Visual Guide (YIKES!)

Maybe it's just me, but it's super hard for me to visualize anything using the metric system of measurement. I know, I know - but that's what years and years of Honors Math will do for you (I can also not add or multiply simple numbers without my handy dandy scientific calculator... but I can solve X equations in my head in a matter of seconds - go figure). There is just something about the words "centimeter" or "gram" or even "litre" for that matter that sends my brain into a complete tailspin of confusion. Inches, pounds, miles, feet - I'm all over that. But tell me something is 10 cm or 5 grams and I couldn't even begin to tell you how big that is. Which is why this chart I created is absolutely PRICELESS for all the pregos out there (or mamas who were prego and could not visualize what their bodies were doing while in labor). And here you have it - a visual guide to Cervical Dilation.

But now that we know our cervix is supposed to open up to the size of a bagel - is anyone else a little freaked out? Maybe ignorance was bliss : )

My Daughter, The Hypochondriac

Dr. Phil - if you are reading this right now - I promise you I am not enabling my child's addiction. And even though I think she's a little too young to be put out on the streets (as you often recommend), I'm going to try to create a "rock bottom" and then put her on a plane to a wonderful "center for healing" in Malibu within the next few days. I swear : )

It all started with cherry-flavored chiildren's Tylenol (or "Schmylenol" while Tylenol was off the shelves)... It's ok. I can admit it: Cherry-flavored children's Tylenol was my daughter's gateway drug.

First - I just have to ask - whatever happened to terrible tasting medicine?! When did medicine start to mirror the flavors in the Jelly Belly Jellybean Variety Pack? I remember DREADING having to take medicines when I was a kid - to the point of pretending I was sleeping so I could skip a dose. I still gag thinking about the terrible tastes. ANYWHO... Back to the matter at hand.

A month or two ago, Miss Paige took a tumble and roughed up her knee a little bit. The week before that, she had a hang nail. And a little bit before that, she got a few bug bites while playing outside. And each and every night before bed, Miss Paige walks me through each "boo boo" and expects they be medically treated with the utmost TLC. Did I mention they have all healed up? That's right - each night we apply "ointments" (aka: hand lotion), take syringes full of "medicine" (aka: water) and go through the motions of treating her boo boos as if they just happened.

The best part? Her dramatic interpretation of how much each of these boo boos hurt. Sad eyes. Pouting mouth. Furrowed brows. A timid finger pointing to the boo boo as if even the thought of it is painful. And then the biggest smile you could ever imagine as I "treat" each of them. It's absolutely hilarious. And adorable. Which is why I play into it each and every night. And sometimes during the day : )

Luckily we skip the "Pharmacy" during the day and jump right into the "ER". Miss Paige seems to get head injuries at least 5 times a day. Now, before you call Child Protective Services, this too is pretend. I promise! It's all a ploy to get ice packs out of the freezer. She'll slowly saunter up to me - again with an Oscar-winning dramatic performance - point to her head, and say "boo boo". To which I respond, "Oh no! Poor Paigey! We better get the ice!" Then she'll side step slowly to the freezer door and stand there with a fake pout until I hand her an ice pack. And then - like clockwork - she busts into hysterical laughter and runs off into her playroom. Is this a little odd? Maybe : ) But it's just so hilarious I can't not participate.

So is Miss Paige destined for a life of hypochondria? I sure hope not! Any other boo boo addict babies out there? Or is my little drama queen the only one?