As a new parent, and the new parent of a boy, one of the first MAJOR decisions you face is whether to have your son circumcised. People feel strongly either way. And no matter what you choose for your own son, you are wrong, ill-informed, and just plain moronic. I have learned that, as a parent, I will never make anyone happy. I didn't nurse long enough, and I nursed too long. I'm starving them, and I'm making them fat. I coddle them too much, and I'm turning them into heartless, independent robots. (to which I say "hey, the day they can fix themselves breakfast is the day I throw myself a goddamned KEGGER.") Depending on whichever relative or friend or internet site you ask, I am simultaneously both a genius and a child abuser every time my kids eat organic mac and cheese.

But oh, the wiener discussion. There's a territory where even I get queasy. Not only can a parent not be right, but she is either a WEENIE MANGLER or a SMELLY HIPPY DOOMING HER SON AND HIS FUTURE PARTNERS TO A LIFETIME OF HORRIFYING SMEGMA...whatever that is. Smegma sounds like an ill-conceived anagram of some kind, a shadowy branch of the military called in to solve unsolvable problems..."we're at DEF-CON 5, Admiral, what do we do?" "Call in Smegma Force 5, son, and God be with them, or we're all dead men."

In the interests of full disclosure, we circumcised our son. Or rather, our pediatrician did, since I can barely dice an onion evenly. She did a lovely job; I know this because over the years I've changed the diapers of friends' babies who were not so...I mean...yeah. Yeowch.

I don't really buy the arguments pro or con regarding circumcision. It seems like both sides are really stretching to demonize the other side's argument, and neither of their arguments convince me. I don't really buy the "circumcision is so much better for hygiene" argument. Mankind has managed just fine without circumcision for long enough, and besides, these are men we're talking about. Even just out of the shower, they stink. To argue that removing the foreskin would turn a boy from a stinking pile of fly-bait into a shining paragon of cleanliness is like arguing that cow manure can be significantly improved with just a dab of Purell. I don't buy it. Hygiene is hygiene, and if a kid's not going to shower regularly, then he has problems that will extend beyond the twig and berries.

Similarly, I don't buy the overly hysterical "OMG it's a savage procedure! You're causing your son PAIN!" argument. Chris slept through his circumcision. The doctor didn't strap him to some Clockwork-Orange looking board to hold his torso still. She swaddled him from the waist up, gave him some glucose water, and he was counting sheep in minutes. She used plenty of numbing agents, and he didn't know what hit him. Snooze city the whole way through. His recovery, too, was no problem. I was so worried that his healing time would be painful for him, and that I would inadvertently make his dong totally fall off while changing his diaper. He didn't squawk once. I went through two tubs of Vaseline and three boxes of gauze pads in a week, but he was just fine.

The one argument that totally repulses me and really gets my blood boiling for its total lack of logic is the one that says: you would never circumcise your daughter, so why would you do it to your son? I'm sorry, I call bullshit on that argument. Female circumcision is a brutal and punitive procedure done when a child is old enough to be traumatized for life by it. It has nothing to do with hygiene, or religion, or informed consent. It is a vile and unforgivable procedure that violently disfigures a girl so that she can live a joyless life controlled by men who treat her more like property than like a human being. To compare a western, modern, professionally-done male circumcision to that horrible procedure is irresponsible at best and diminishes the plight of girls that are forced to undergo that sort of butchery worldwide. I mean, really - if we were to compare apples to apples here, a male circumcision would have to involve a rusty pair of hedge trimmers. Hack off the entire penis, and stretch the scrotum up over the oozing, raggedy, unsanitary leftovers and use an old staple gun to keep everything in place. No sane person would do that.

When we were deciding the fate of our son's genitals, my thoughts were thus: if it were up to just me, I would say no. The reasons for doing it don't outweigh the reasons for leaving it be. He's not going to get laughed at in the locker room, (and after comparing it to other diapers I have changed in my time, and after a few pointed questions to the pediatrician, who has undoubtedly seen more peen than a college cheerleader, BELIEVE ME, he's got nothing to be ashamed of) and whoever else gets exposed to it in his lifetime will love him no matter what, so just leave it be. However, I told my husband that this was one of the few decisions in our marriage where I admit that my vote counts for 49 percent where his counts for 51 percent, because he's the one with the same bits, and the lifetime of experience maintaining said bits. While my research included countless books, medical articles, and SAVE THE PENIS websites, Dim's research mainly entailed polling women in the office about what their preference was and why. Not that that was creepy for them or anything, but whatever.

Recently, a friend from high school chose to circumcise his two adopted sons. His religion doesn't require it, but I'm sure that he had his reasons. The hitch? The boys were not infants by a long shot. I'm not sure of their ages, but by the family pictures that I have seen, I'd say the boys are 6 and 8. I told Dim that our friend had his boys circumcised, and Dim looked like a swallowed a lemon. "Why didn't they leave well enough alone?" was his response. I find it funny that he repeated my argument when talking about our plans for Chris, but whatever. I admit, it was probably a little more disturbing for the older boys, but it was done at a hospital by a medical professional, so I doubt that they'll have any problems once the healing is done. I totally defend the parents' right to make that decision regarding their sons, and I don't think that their decision was wrong any more than the decision to pierce ears is wrong, but 6 and 8? Don't you think that by that time the boys are a bit, um, attached to what they've got?

What do you think?

Men are wimps, at least when it comes to kids.

We need to transition Chris from a crib to a toddler bed. I want him settled in the new bed well before his baby sister comes.

Last night, I put him to bed in his big boy bed (which looks like a munchkin version of Bean's bed - it's funny to see the two beds in the same room.) Of course, he giggles, leaps out, and races down the hall. I expected this. The same thing happened when we moved Bean to a bed. I was prepared for at least an hour, probably two, of grabbing him before he left the bedroom and putting him back into his bed. No talking, no negotiation, no eye contact, just popping him back into the bed.

The theory is that eventually he'll realize that he's not getting enough attention or feedback to make it worth getting out of bed repeatedly. Or he collapses from fatigue, whichever. It's win-win. My spine was steeled. This may take a few hours a night for a few nights, but he'll catch on once he realizes that we mean business.

But my bladder got in the way. After about 45 minutes, I called Dim over to relieve me. I went to the bathroom, and checked in with Bean, who was playing a computer game, and I saw Dim admitting defeat and putting Chris to bed in his crib, instead.

And how long did he last, you ask? How long was he able to stand up to the intimidation and strong-arm tactics of a 15-month old, a kid whose most dangerous weapon in his arsenal is a blue stuffed dog stitched on a blanket? 7 minutes.

7 whole backbreaking, stand-up-to-your-kid minutes.

I married a hairy jellyfish.

I often let Bean pick her own clothing. And why not, really? It's not as if she has fashionable parents to show her the finer points of haute couture.

So she's racing around the house re-enacting scenes from Mulan while wearing an orange tank top with silver spangles, pink leggings with blue and green flowers, rainbow striped Dora socks, and boy's y-front underwear with dinosaurs all over them.

I offered her a purple tutu to complete the ensemble, but she informed me that Mulan doesn't wear tutus. Point taken.

At least the underwear's on the inside, right?