One of the great frustrations of parenting a toddler is the amount of unexpected, unpredictable crying. A typical toddler will cry because their shoes are blue, not red; the cup is green, not blue; and that the grass is  muddy. Car seats, diaper changes and all safety concerns may all be met with a few tears and possibly uncontrollable sobs.

A clever dad created a Why Is My Son Crying Tumblr. He posts a photo of his cute child in tears along with a sardonic answer to the ubiquitous 'why is my son crying' question. Answers range from: "the car seat, always the car seat" to "I told him not to drink the bath water" (pictured below).

Image credit: http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/

After saying that Donald Trump doesn't do diapers, I'm tempted to say: You're Fired!

But the truth is, most grandfathers that I know don't do diapers. Many grandmothers do, but the grandfathers are relics of a different generation when the men didn't do anything messy with the kids except play outside. And a crying baby? They get handed right back to mom. 

No diapers for The Donald

We were errant parents in the babyproofing department (well, not just there). We didn't do anything outside of gates at the tops of stairs (which have become very useful for our dog). No bumpers on the corners of our glass coffee table. No outlet covers, or drawer locks.

And you know what? Our kids hurt themselves sometimes. But so do all kids. They never stuck anything into an electrical outlet though. I just think that in this day and age were are too quick to protect and discourage. We tame everything because of our own fears and accidents still happen. Some serious and some not. Most of them are learning experiences.

So how far do you go to protect your kids?

I was so excited to feed my first baby solids. I waited and waited until I couldn't wait any longer. He was five and three-quarter months old. I set up the high chair, the splat mat, the bib, the shiny new utensils and the rice cereal and then ... nothing. He didn't want it. Sure, a little bit went in, but more came out. I had waited until he showed signs of eating. He watched our utensils with hungry eyes. He mimicked eating. I hoped it would make him sleep. But he wasn't ready.

But I couldn't wait.

I am sure that sense of impatience, the bad information and mistaken belief in old wives tales is what is behind the new research that says 40 per cent of babies are fed solids too soon. Both American and Canadian pediatric societies recommend starting solids at six months of age. But almost half of babies are being given solids before six months of age, with some being fed solids at the age of four weeks.

Women, work, feminism, family -- these are all topics that keep cropping up lately. It started last year with articles by Anne-Marie Slaughter and Elisabeth Badinter, but it has jumped forward with Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In and her suggestion that women should be more ambitious. The discussion (for the most part) has been nuanced and intelligent and has not pitted woman against woman.

But we wouldn't want that. 

Do we need to talk about those family car stickers? You know, the stick figures where each adorable sticky represents someone in your family, right down to the goldfish bowl?

These seemingly innocuous figures are creating a lot of debate in the car pool. Do you love them or hate them? Do you think they are cute, but would never put them on the back of your car? Or do you think they are an abomination?

Oh, Gwyneth.

You have a new cookbook out based on a restrictive diet, and in order to get people to buy into your clean eating regime you are hitting up the media with some news to get people talking.

You, like so many other women out there, suffered a miscarriage that understandably scared and saddened you. It sounds like it was a terrible experience that has obviously left some psychological scars. It can't be easy having your kids ask for a baby and not feel that you are able to have another one. Sounds like your relationship with Blue Ivy helps ease the burden a little, even though it makes you a little "broody".
 

We parents can never get a break. Studies just keep raining down on us that make every parenting choice we've ever made seem like a bad choice. Take the newest mark of bad parenting for example: swaddling.

We were told to swaddle our firstborn because it inhibits the startle reflex. My husband would literally get elated while wrapping our little newborn up as a burrito. It was so tidy and it calmed our little fussy one. I never really got the hang of it, and I always preferred skin-to-skin contact with my little ones. (Yes, it is about me.)

I know that some parents swear by swaddling and can't imagine calming a fussy, colicky baby without the wrapping technique. But swaddling has been getting a bad rap lately. Studies say it increased hip dysplasia and according to Slate magazine, centres in the U.S. have banned swaddling because of risks of SIDS and hip problems. The ripple effect of the ban has parenting staying away from the baby burrito.

Having a new baby can be a confusing, overwhelming, and yes, even a depressing time. But does crying and feeling overwhelmed mean you have postpartum depression?

Vanessa Lachey (nee Minnillo, famous for something or other) wrote an explicit blog post detailing her own stint with the "baby blues" when her baby Camden (with Nick Lachey famous for being Jessica Simpson's ex) was two weeks old. She wrote:

"No matter how many books you read, NOTHING prepares you better than the real thing. I felt lost, unloved, alone and at my wits end. It's weird, too, because I have an amazing and supportive husband, his loving family and wonderful friends. But at that moment… I felt like NO ONE understood me. No one knows my thoughts, my fears, my wishes… heck, I didn't even know my own wishes."

I carried the folded, fraying article from the New York Times in my purse for months. Occasionally, I would find it, unfold it and read Emily Rapp's words about parenting her son Ronan.

This is a love story, and like all great love stories, it is a story of loss. Parenting, I’ve come to understand, is about loving my child today. Now. In fact, for any parent, anywhere, that’s all there is.

I have written about Emily Rapp before. But my words do not come close to touching hers. Her elegant contemplation of what it means to have a dying child, to love so completely has stayed with me long after the article disintegrated.