My uterus is around the size of a grapefruit this week. I'll admit, I find this rather amusing. When you look at sexual anatomy diagrams (which are generally shown non-pregnant anyway), the uterus usually looks pretty large. In reality, it's about 3 inches and looks a bit like a pear. By 10 weeks, my uterus is now more the size of a grapefruit. In the grand scheme of things, this is still pretty small. This week, my embryo became a fetus. It is now just over an inch in length.

I also had my most recent checkup with my OB this week. Early in pregnancy, women are generally seen every 4 weeks (if you have a high risk pregnancy, it may be more often). My blood pressure and urinalysis looked good. One of the things they gave me is a special card that has my pregnancy information on it. It includes my EDD (estimated due date), blood type, Rh factor, and other information from my OB blood panel. I'm supposed to carry the card with me. If I were to be hospitalized, it would give other health ...

This is a guest post from Dances With Engines as part of the month-long blogathon to help support Scarleteen!

I was hoping to make a post for the Scarleteen Blogathon that was pleasant and sweet and that would inspire people to make donations, and to do it without touching on my personal experiences. But there’s no way for me to make a post about sex and sex education without digging at old wounds. Isn’t that part of the new paradigm, anyway, where personal experience has authority?

Scarleteen is written for young people of all sexes and genders. That they manage to do so with so much consistency and dependability is amazing to me. As I become more conscious of my own binary and oppositional language (men do this, women do that, and only men and women), I get more impressed with Scarleteen.

When I recommend websites to my daughter, or to friends with growing children, I am always questioning—is the language and mission of this site going to be inclusive? Is anyone going to be left f...

Part of the 2010 Blogathon to help support Scarleteen. This entry is courtesy of Tess at Urban Gypsy.

If I earned a dollar each time I’ve heard the statement, “I’m surprised you’re so strict,” in relation to my parenting, I’d be basking on a beach in Tahiti now rather than on a Metro North train whisking me off to do a sex ed consult on the Lower East Side. I’d probably be doing sex ed consults in Tahiti; you can take me out of NY but you can’t kill my desire to help people learn more about their sexuality. But back on point, I can always hear the implied, “you with your pierced nose, tattoo, open marriage and non-stop sex talk.”

The funny thing is, my friends may have been surprised but my daughter was not. When her thirteen-year-old best friend got her belly button pierced, there was, of course there was, some whining.

“But why can’t I,” she implored. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

In parenting style reminiscent of the worst of my own parents, I snapped, “You can’t because I...