Yesterday, my precious pumpkin received his 4 month vaccines.

Last night, for the first time in more than 2 months, he did not sleep through the night. Not even close. He awoke every 3 hours with a blood curdling scream. We ended up feeding him waaaaaay more than we should just to get him back to keep the peace.

If I did not voraciously consume media, this would pass as a mild annoyance. As it is, there was a tiny Posh Spice haircutted Jenny McCarthy in my head saying “maybe you shouldn’t have allowed the baby to get the vaccines”. This, despite new reports this week that there is no link between vaccines and autism. Why would I give any credit to Jenny McCarthy over scientific evidence to the contrary? Oprah. Some tiny part of my brain thinks there is a grain of credibility to anything you see on Oprah – despite the fact that Oprah launched Dr. freaking Phil. Today, I resent Oprah for making me doubt my judgment in the deep dark quiet of the middle of the night.

Part 2 of today’s guilt comes from the shockingly well written new ABC show Cashmere Mafia. I was fully prepared dismiss this show as a Sex and the City knock off, but last night’s episode has cemented its “tape all new episodes” status in my DVR. A stay at home mom takes her kids and the kids of one of the working heroines to a “Build a Bear” type experience. While there, the kids of the working mother create a “working mommy bear” complete with pearls, little black dress, bluetooth earpiece and voice box that says “Not now. Mommy’s on a conference call.” Kudos to the writers for so humorously exposing so many women’s deepest insecurity. My guess is that this little plot point earned them many new loyal fans.

Today’s exercise is to remember that what I do inside these four walls, not Oprah or the WGA, determines whether or not I am a good mom. I am going to pull a Nancy Reagan and “Just Say No” to the crackpottery and working mom guilt they’re selling.