Christmas is Almost Here

Christmas is here once again. My boys and wife love Christmas. I can’t complain. I like the festive nature around the city which starts after Thanksgiving. People string up lights and decorate their houses. Most of the displays are timid yet enjoyable. A few saps however, desperate to be showered with attention of some form, put on extravagant displays in an obsequious show of the power of Mammon. Some of them are really quite fantastic and clearly demonstrate that a great deal of thought and effort went into them. Of course with all the lamppost signs declaring, “Will put up Christmas lights” it may be the third world help making many of these look so good.

Now don’t get me wrong I like Christmas lights. They are pretty and festive and add some much needed color to the dreary monotonous repetitive visual urbanity that is Southern California. It is one of two times a year that the streets look like something other than rainbow iced cookie cutter tract housing interspersed with a few McMansion cookie cutter tracts.

So you add to this muti-colored lights and it brightens things up. I especially like the icicle lights. There is a white version which is quite tasteful and there is a deep blue version which is really pretty. The deep dark lights are symbolic, I think, of the harsh cold nights that symbolize Christmas time throughout most of the country. While many of our countrymen are blanketed in snow and biting wind we get maybe three storms throughout December.

Then you have the inflatable lawn displays which I don’t care for but my kids like. There are Santas, Bears, Santa Bears, Penguins and Santa Penguins. One of the houses in our area has a large Santa Spongebob which he displays on the second floor balcony facing the street. A nearby house similarly displays a giant Frosty the Snowman. One guy has a Santa riding a Harley which seems rather bizarre to me yet the boys like it. All of this entertainment is great. One house has a small train display in the yard. The lights on the wheels flutter giving the impression that it is moving.

The best part is that, whatever ego or cry for attention urged people to put up displays, these clowns are footing the bill for the entertainment of myself and others to cheap to put up displays. Even more humorous is that in the land of annual rolling blackouts (albeit generally in summer) people are burning electricity like it was free and infinite.

People behave strangely around the holidays. I guess after Halloween in October and Thanksgiving in November the thought of the expensive Holiday in December just pushes some people over the edge. People, always in a rush here to begin with, start acting recklessly. We went to my parents house the other day and were cut off three times in ten minutes by people rushing. In each case their sole accomplishment was to reach the stopped intersection a few seconds earlier than us. The holidays put stress on people and in Southern California, with its car culture, the response is to drive faster, more dangerously, and generally antagonize fellow motorists. It is a simple exacerbation of our already hectic lifestyle. Californians are in a perpetual race towards a red light.

This may all sound a little pessimistic but Christmas is a mixed bag. Tomorrow we’ll talk about why I do like the holiday and then on Saturday we’ll talk about how it actually went.

The Peanut Crisis

So Peanut went to the doctor Wednesday. He gave her a prescription. It turned out to be funny pink goo. But when she got home I immediately gave her some.

Thursday was an unhappy day for her. Much like Wednesday she was sad. She cried a lot, had terrible sniffles, and couldn’t sleep much. But by early evening the medicine seemed to be having some effect. She was able to sleep much better last night than the previous two nights.

When we got up today she was in better spirits. She isn’t rubbing her ear. She’s still got awful sniffles. It must of been terrible for her. Even now on the mend she is not her usual happy playful self. We’ve gone almost three days now without mischief.

I know kids get sick and that she was bound to become ill at some point. But this was her first time and she really got knocked around by it. Luckily her daddy was here to hold her. She had trouble sleeping. Her normal two hour naps were about thirty minutes on Wednesday and about an hour on Thursday.

Right now she’s been asleep about an hour and a half. I’m glad she’s finally getting the rest she needs. Her eyes were terribly red and puffy yesterday. The Tylenol didn’t seem to help much with the fever. It was awful and I was worried for a while.

To make things worse she is getting a new tooth. I noticed yesterday after feeding her. Her top right tooth has just cut the gum. So she is sick and her mouth hurts.

But she’s feeling better now and this morning we even played. She has a new annoying game she likes to play with me. Like all babies she has learned how to throw things on the ground. So today she tossed her toys away and looked at me to let me know I needed to get them for her. Then, naturally, she tossed them again.

All that matters is that she is doing better. We’ll all sleep easier tonight (and not just because Peanut isn’t up crying the whole time). Next week she’ll be better and I’ll tell you all about her comic mischief and adventures.

My Little Girl is Sick

When I put Peanut to bed last night she was sad. She had the sniffles. Her stuffed up nose was making it hard for her to breathe. She spent the whole night tossing and turning.

I suppose this was inevitable. Buddy, my youngest son, has been ill and was home sick from school Monday. Of course he was going to spread his awful contagion to the rest of us. I just hoped Peanut would be magically immune.

This morning, after a terrible nights sleep, she woke up boiling like a furnace working overtime (Really she’s just 100° F.). She was coughing and sneezing. Her sniffles produced this horrible goo running down her lips.

I fell terrible for her. All she wants to do is sit with her daddy. Oh, and she wants me to play with her toys. She is actually in good spirits. She ate, had her formula, and is sleeping restfully right now.

Babies get sick. I do understand this. We had a wonderful run of luck though. She hadn’t been sick yet. Both of my sons had been sick by six months. Peanut made it to eight months.

She’s in for a long run of nasty bugs. My boys both went through it as they grew into and through toddlerhood . As she is exposed to other children they pass on their nasty little germs. When she starts school the flu will run through her class.

She and my boys are lucky. They won’t get chicken pox. The vaccine has kept both of my sons from getting it. I assume it will be as effective with her. When I was little we all got it. A select few kids slipped through to adulthood without getting it. They face a precarious situation if they do contract it.

I got it in third grade. At first it seemed great. You get to stay home from school for at least three days. In actuality it was distinctly unpleasant. It was several long days of feeling itchy, itching, and getting scolded for itching.

I would have preferred she not get sick though. Its miserable enough to sick when your fully grown and understand what is wrong. When your little you have no idea what is wrong. All you know is that you don’t feel well.

Peanut certainly doesn’t feel well. I’m not worried. She’ll be better and up to mischief again in no time.

Baby’s Other Annoying New Habit

Last week I informed you about Peanut’s terribly cute and annoying habit of snorting at me. As I pointed out she utilizes this tool to get my attention when she is displeased with the current situation.

Building on this she has found a new way to get her sap daddy’s attention. Babies need to take naps, lots of them. Usually when your baby is tuckered out you can put her down to sleep with minimum fuss.

However, I have heard terrible stories about babies who have trouble falling asleep. Of course, there are always times when she is simply over tired or grumpy and has difficulty sleeping.

Generally Peanut has been the best baby a parent could hope for. When she starts rubbing her eyes I know its time to put her down for a rest.

But recently she has decided, about every third nap or so, that sleeping isn't on the agenda. In this case she starts crying. Now some times babies need to cry a little before they fall asleep. Our parenting book, “What to Expect” says you should let them cry for a few minutes, ten max, before picking them up.

Peanut, however, isn’t really crying. You see, she has learned to “fake cry.” When she doesn’t want to sleep she starts her pretend crying. I know she is not really upset because the tone is different from the tone when she is hurt (Bopped in the head by her own toy), scared (Not sure why but she gets spooked), or overtired (This one sounds like a cat being strangled).

What she has figured out is that her sap of a dad will come running when she cries. I’d have to bee a real curmudgeon to ignore a little girl crying. So when I come running over to her she looks at me and smiles and laughs. It is all very hilarious to her. Sometimes she’ll do this two or three times before she gets bored. I don’t pick her up after all. I just smile back and go about my work.

A few days ago I decided to break her of this awful habit. When Peanut began her routine I peeked in at her. She couldn’t see me. She stopped and then cried again. For some reason, her tactic having failed, she began bawling. The type that suggested she was spooked. Probably since she thought sap had abandoned her. So I charged in she calmed down and went to sleep.

I find it alarming that she has already contrived ways to get attention from men. She’s only seven months but I’m already terrified of her being sixteen.

That aside, her new habit, while cute, is incredibly annoying. Nothing is worse than putting her down settling in for some task and being interrupted five minutes into it. Nap time is, after all, the biggest chunk of free time for me. Yes there are three of them and yes once she falls asleep I have one to two hours of uninterrupted time. Even though I know it is a hoax it is not worth the risk of ignoring her.

Mostly though, I object to a pretty girl treating me like a chump.

Peanut's Annoying New Habit

Peanut has learned a new trick. It is annoying to say the least. At the same time it is adorable and ridiculous. I first noticed it about a week ago. Not being sure if it was intentional I waited to see if she would repeat it.

As you know I put her down to play with her toys while I work on the computer and do chores. While she will play for a bit by herself she prefers that someone play with her.

So the other day I put her down to play and sat down to type up some work. Peanut decided that she did not want to play by herself. She snorted at me. It was a snort. She made the noise through her nose not her mouth. The sound was very much like one a toddler makes when it wants attention. After all most toddlers act out instead of saying something like, "Yo, pay attention to me."

I was not sure what to make of it. I looked at her and she smiled at me so I resumed my typing. Unhappy with the result she did it again. Taking the hint we played. Then she ate and had a nap.

The next day, under similar circumstances, she did it again. I decides to test whether this was intentional. After looking at her she smiled and I went back to work. Peanut snorted again, several times. I looked at her, she smiled, I went back to work.

She was extremely dissatisfied with this result and proceeded to snort a half dozen times loudly and vigorously. So we played and my work got done while she was napping.

Oddly enough, having learned the value of this technique, she turned it on her mother later that day. Her mother was home from work and enjoying a snack while resting on the couch. Peanut who believes she can and should eat everything the rest of us do decided she wanted to share the snack. So looking at mommy she began snorting away to get attention.

Mommy, who was not aware of this new habit, looked at Peanut shocked and started laughing. It really is adorable after all. But this was not the desired response and was greeted with more snorting until she was picked up. No sharing though I'm afraid.

Since then baby has done this at least once a day when circumstances are not to her liking.

I have tried repeatedly to get a picture of her doing this. However, since her desired result is attention, when you focus on her she smiles. I think she is intentionally thwarting me.

While it is cute it is also terribly annoying. Imagine sitting there trying to type something only to be assaulted by a cavalcade of snorts from your attention hungry baby. It not as if I ignore her. In fact I most certainly do not. But when she sits with me at the computer she insists on banging her little fists on the keyboard. It is great she wants to share stories with the world. Just not in the middle of a file I'm working on.

Next time I'll share with you her other annoying new habit. This one is even worse but it gets her sap of a Daddy to do what she wants.

Peanut's Six Month Old Celebration

Last Friday we had a party for baby. It was to celebrate her having been with us for six months. As anyone who has every cared for a baby knows six months is a long time. It represents at least a thousand diapers. Possibly two or three times that many (Think ten a day, at least, for 180 days). Add all the other inherent duties of a parent and you can imagine that it has been a long six months.


But, I was very excited. The emotion bordered on down right jubilation at having come this far. For my sons we waited until they were a years old to have a party. I have fond memories of my boys sitting in their high chairs trying to eat a small cake that was reserved solely for them. The result in both cases was a terrible mess. Everyone present enjoyed themselves almost as much as the baby.

I didn’t feel that we could wait that long for Peanut. So I devised the plan to celebrate six months of diaper changing fun. My wife, not surprisingly, jumped at the idea. We got her a cake, really just a giant cupcake. After dinner, we had pasta and she had sweet potatoes, everyone gathered round and watched her enjoy her cake.

Even the boys had fun. Though Buddy objects to her being the center of attention (We are working on sibling jealousy but its a tough sell).
Peanut really went at it. It was a little surprising how actively she attempted to devour the cake. Most of it ended up on her, which was also true of my boys at their birthday parties. She gave it an honest attempt though. If she had the control it would have ended up in her tummy.

Afterwards she got a bath and took a nap. My wife and I went over the many pictures I took (Close to fifty). Some of them are really funny. I can tell you that I am very excited at the prospect of her birthday party six months from now. In particular I can not wait to how she handles the cake compared to this party

On the other hand I feel terribly ambivalent. The boys seem somehow cheated since they only got one party their first year. They are too young to remember but it still seems unfair.
I hope you enjoy the pictures as much as Peanut enjoyed the cake.

Baby's First Tooth

Baby’s First Tooth

Peanut has been feverish and grumpy and whiney lately. In short she has been an unhappy baby. It makes me sad to see her so unhappy.

However, the reason has become apparent. Her first tooth is coming out. For the past several days we’ve been fighting and struggling to get her to open her mouth and take a picture of it. It would be really neat to have a picture of her first tooth. It’s one of the bottom teeth in the front, on her left.

My goal has been an abject failure. She moves to fast. The shutter speed on the camera is to slow, even though its pumped up to the highest level. There are any number of reasons to explain the failure to produce a picture of her tooth (The most obvious one being that I am a second rate photographer).

Regardless, the point is moot now. Yesterday I noticed, to mixed feeling of chagrin and excitement, that her second front tooth is also coming in. So much for my spectacular picture.

All of this brings up the fact that teething is an awful experience for both the baby and the parent. Clearly it is more painful for her. But, at the same time, its no cakewalk for me either. There is not much to do but live through it. I’ve talked to several fathers who claim changing diapers is their least favorite thing about babies. I’ll take a stinky overfilled diaper, or ten, over teething any day.

It ranks up there with the first few weeks home after the hospital. She is waking every hour or so to be fed. The crying and whining and lack of sleep is awful.

Almost anything will set Peanut off right now. I peek in her mouth to see her teeth she bawls. I put her down to do some quick chores she cries. I put her in her swing yesterday evening to work on an article. She flipped.

My wife swears by Hyland’s Teething Tablets. Supposedly they relieve the pain from cutting gums. So we pay the outrageous price tag for a bottle smaller than my cell phone. When she takes them they dissolve into white goo. She seems to cry less afterward. Maybe the taste of them distracts her from the pain for a short while.

Peanut now has two pretty white teeth with two on the top about to emerge. They are shiny and bright. Our culture glorifies shiny white pearls. All the superstar actors have them. When they smile its like being caught in head lights. But for the average person its almost unnatural to have such a bright smile at thirty or even forty.

Even with good oral hygiene teeth wear out. Coffee, tobacco, and a host of other things render them dull and lackluster. By forty you’ve had your teeth for almost thirty years. Nothing looks shiny and new after that long.

Of course if you have several thousand dollars you can visit the orthodontist and get a set of caps. Your teeth will look like brand new baby teeth.

I had already thought Peanut’s smile was the prettiest smile by half. Now, when she smiles at me with her shiny new teeth I swear its the best smile in the world. It is warm, endearing, and full of life. People spend a fortune to have her smile. I get it every day for free.

Now I know that my fellow parents out there are thinking that its their baby not mine that has the best smile. Maybe so. Consider each of our perspectives after all. Feel free to share your stories. Either the difficulty of going through teething, for both of you, or you joy at your baby’s new teeth.

I'm a Bad Daddy

So, as it turns out, I’m a monster.

Peanut and I were playing the other day.I had this silly snowman stuffy. It’s a small plush snowman with a red scarf and a red Santa hat with a green puffy ball on the tip. She really likes this guy.

I put her in her Boppy. Then she tries to grab the snowman as I swing it back and forth. She latches on to it and I let go. Then she holds it, wiggles it, or stuffs it in her mouth (Babies will put anything in their mouth no matter how disgusting, including roly-polies , but that a different story).

We had been playing this for a bit (We play every day but not always with the same toy) when she grabbed the thing a put the ball part of the hat in her mouth.

Watching this, musing about how adorable babies are, it stuck me in a terrible flash that the puffy ball is exactly the right size to clog her little throat. This was one of those, “Oh My Lord” type moments. I seized the snowman and immediately disposed of it (By putting it in a box for when she’s bigger). We played some more of course.

But, later when she was napping I took some time to look around our home and apprise myself of the multitude of death traps it contained.

When my wife was nearing the end of her pregnancy it seemed prudent to baby-proof the house. This was not new to me. Our apartment was baby-proofed, constantly, for my first son. It was small and cramped and dangerous things seem to have a habit of appearing near your baby. Its as if the baby is a magnet for everything sharp, pointy, and miniature throat sized.

We moved before my second son was born. I went through the whole process again. Then Peanut came along and I thought I had done a reasonable job of ridding areas she would venture though of hazards. Yet, here I was staring at a vile stuffy designed to harm my angel.

What really got to me were the unlimited phantoms that might be harmful. If you look hard enough everything becomes a potential source of harm to baby. She plays in the same room I work on my computer in. Drop a pencil on the floor? Pick it up right away. Same with an eraser, don’t want her choking. I used to put my cup of coffee on the floor next to my desk. If I wanted some I leaned back picked it up and had a sip.

Not anymore. My wife would never let me hear the end of it if when Peanut starts crawling the first thing she does is help herself to my scalding hot coffee.

Its not like I’m one of those baby-safety alarmists (though I might be). Its simply that everywhere I look I see images of carnage. My wife says I always see the worst in things. Only, its not a compliment when she says it.

Anyway its my responsibility to insure that we aren’t incentivizing boo-boos. I went online to find some websites with suggestions to improve our safety level. Many of them are simply shilling safety products under the guise of being informative. A few don’t even seem to have much to do with child safety.

A couple are rather good though. I particularly like Dr. Baby. I know it sounds kind of blithe. But, it is actually an informative site. I especially like the pictures of toddlers about to engage in various dangerous act. I know they are meant to help you visualize the potential for danger but some of them are quite humorous.

Another neat site is Baby Proofing Faq which was compiled by Sandra Smith. Parents from all over shared various stories of situations their children had gotten into. One guys son actually pulled over their TV and was pinned under it, though he was okay (FAQ # 14).

Another fellow told of a story in the news where a toddler climbed onto a gas range (stovetop), the kind with flat tops. He somehow had managed to turn it on. While standing on it the rubber soles of his shoes melted trapping him to the range. The images this put in my head sent shivers down my spine. I can not imagine coming over to the kitchen to find this happening (FAQ #1).

In all many of the stories are humorous anecdotes suggesting a few adjustments to your home. While some of the steps suggested might be considered overreacting. Being overly safe will keep your baby from chocking, or having a TV fall on them, or perhaps worse.

Those of you who have your own stories of gross, but unintentional, negligence please share. We’ll all get a kick out of it. But we might just learn something to. Nothing too icky if you don’t mind.

Strangers Can Be So Rude

Strangers Can Be So Rude

So I was in the food store the other day. Peanut picks this opportune moment to start bawling. It had been a long day. I know she doesn’t like her car seat. But she is not big enough to be propped up in the front of the cart. I get her out to calm her down, but she is clearly upset.

Now I’m holding and trying to comfort an unhappy baby girl. And I’m trying to keep the cart moving, don’t want to lose the car seat because I’d really be in the soup then. All the while I’ve been trying to get some ice cream to feed my gluttonous sweet tooth.

Then I notice this woman giving me a look. Clearly asking where the baby’s mother is. I have been judged and found wanting in the baby raising department.

It is the kind of look where you are supposed to notice it and accept the rebuke. But not so over the top that you react with, “Yo, whats your problem.” Not that I would do that in front of my little girl.

I have three children and I have been in stores with each of them many times. I’ve gotten this look before. When a baby is with their father and is unruly, or grumpy, or simply tired and irritable it’s his fault. Yet when the mother is the one with the unruly baby other women have looks of sympathy.

This is not true of all women of course. There are a select few who glare at you this way. Others seem bemused that you are even there with the baby. A few even look at the father with sympathy, or possibly empathy.

I’m not the best father in the world, I can admit this. But I can change diapers with the best of them. I wash clothes and make bottles. I can feed her the goo that Gerber calls food. We play together.

I don’t appreciate being judged by strangers in stores. It may be ingrained due to the cultural stereotype that women should raise babies. (I guarantee you I didn’t ask for a lay off when the store I worked for collapsed.) I prefer to be non-confrontational. I have more important things to do than waste time with some goofball.

Most importantly I don’t want her growing up believing that it is the purview of women alone to bear the brunt of childrearing. Some of my fondest memories involve my two boys between the ages of one and two. If she marries and has children I don’t want her husband to shirk chores and joys because of a cultural precept.

Even odder, I think that certain aspects of child-rearing can be very masculine. Men are supposed to like to fix things (problem-solvers or some such). Baby’s got poop. I can fix that. Baby’s hungry. I can fix that. Baby’s sleepy. I can fix that. The tentacle fell off your octopus. I can try to fix that. So if my baby is sad or scared and crying, don’t look at me funny. I can fix this too.

Recall Alert: Kolcraft Play Yards

Kolcraft Enterprises and the US Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a voluntary recall today for one million Play Yards. The play yard's side rail can fail to latch properly. When children push or lean against it the latch can collapse resulting in injury.

There have been 347 reports to the firm of unexpected collapse of the device resulting in 21 injuries.

The recall applies to approximately one million units of play sets made by Kolcraft for Kolcraft, Carter's, Sesame Street, Jeep, Contours, Care Bears, and Eric Carle Play Yards. The products were manufactured in China, Italy, and Spain.

There are 21 different products from seven company lines affected. These were mostly sold at Babies R Us, Kmart, Sears, Target, Walmart and various internet retailors from January 2000 through January 2009.

This is the same company which issued a previous recall notice for play yards in 2007after the tragic strangulation and death of a 10 month old baby.

Outrageously the voluntary recall requires consumers to contact Kolcraft for a free repair kit which must then be properly installed by the consumer.

Kolcraft can be reached at their website:
http://www.kolcraft.com/

Or by their toll free number: 1 (800) 594-4208

Their website is not user friendly unless your buying something. It might be easier for you to call them.

Visit the CSPC's website for pictures and model numbers of affected products.
http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml09/09265.html

Boppy: Every Baby Needs One

Boppy: Every Baby Needs One

My wife recently informed me that Peanut had to have a Boppy. I mean absolutely unequivocally had to have a Boppy right now. My obvious response was, “I’m watching TV.” After being glared at my second reply was, “What’s a Boppy?” Really, that’s a pretty goofy name. She went on to inform me over the next twenty minutes all about Boppys, thus ruining my show and giving me a headache.

It turns out that Boppys are horseshoe shaped pillows with removable covers (called slipcovers). You have the option of buying the Bare Naked (sic, visit their website) Pillow version. Or you can buy a pillow w/slipcase set. Either way you can then proceed to purchase alternate pattern slipcovers.

Upon learning this I was dumbfounded. I thought to myself, “My God this could cost a fortune.” There were images in my head of my wife coming home with bags literally stuffed with pretty slipcases for every occasion. The covers are reasonably priced, but ten of anything quickly sends reason to the chopping block.

I thought if I just said no that would be the end of this (as if I have any authority). I quickly put that nonsense out of my head and decided I ought to be paying attention. We agreed that she could buy one preferably the set (since that is usually the better deal as it is in this case). If however, they had a slipcover she really liked she could buy them separately.

This is my third baby and I think I’ve gotten used to the weird stuff women buy or babies. Some pretty crazy things have come home in the last ten years. For thirty bucks my wife would be happy and we’d have another thingamajig gathering dust in the corner, or on a shelf taking up much needed space. Whatever, she would be happy. Boy was I wrong. Peanut’s Boppy is fantastic.

The basic purpose of a Boppy is to allow baby to be propped up instead of lying on her back. Babies love this. Peanut really loves this function. We’ve had our pillow over a month now. Everyday I settle her into her Boppy to play with her hanging play sets. The elevation allows her to more easily reach the baubles hanging from the playset’s frame. Despite being unable to sit up herself she can now, while elevated, comfortably reach, hold, and pull on her toys. It has made the play sets a much more enjoyable experience for her.

Another function they push at you is to put your baby on her tummy on the pillow. She can roll over by herself now but lacks the strength and coordination to crawl. When on her tummy on the pillow the heightened level of sight is great. She loves looking around, especially at the dog when it strolls by.

She also likes to use her feet to push her head over the top of the pillow and view the world upside down. She doesn’t seem to hurt her neck. I cannot fathom why she enjoys looking at things upside down though.

Another use is to put it on your lap, put baby and top of it, and feed her. I’ve noticed that after she eats and burps if I rest her on the pillow she tends to spit up less (advertised right on the packaging and surprisingly true). You can also use it to rest your laptop on (not a recommended use and don’t let your wife catch you).

Once your baby can sit up, which mine can’t, the Boppy acts as a buffer to both help them stay up and provide a softer landing when they topple over.

We also use it to play peek-a-boo. Put your baby on her back with her head in the center of the pillow. Get down on the floor and peek up over the top at her and go, “Boo.” Repeat. Some days this drives her wild. Other days she looks at me as if I’m insane. Be warned, your other kids will snicker at you if they catch you doing this.

If your girlfriend, wife, sister, etc. is going to have a baby get them one of these. Next time your wife has to go to a baby shower check the registry, if there is one. If there is a Boppy on it get it. If there isn’t a Boppy on the list get one anyway, and a smaller selection from the approved list, assuming your not strapped for cash. This gift will go over really well.

Make sure she brings the receipt. If someone else gives the soon-to-be mother a Boppy tell your wife to have her return it and get some extra slipcovers. This will meet with universal agreement. Your wife may not admit it was you who suggested the idea at the party but I guarantee she’ll thank you in her own way.

Recall Alert: Simplicity Drop Side Crib

The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a recall alert for the Simplicity Drop Side Crib.

Sections of the plastic hardware can break creating a space between the mattress and the and the hinged drop side of the crib. There is a risk of suffocation and or other injuries.

This recall follows a similar one on Simplicity cribs issued in 2007. The products were manufactued in China for distribution in US Depatment stores.

An eight month old baby in Houston, TX was trapped by the defective product and suffocated. There have been twenty five other reported injuries, but no other fatalities. The The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission reports that over 400, 000 units have been sold in the Us from 2005 to 2009. Some News agencies claim as many as a million such products may have been sold.


The CPSC recommends that you immediately cease using the crib. You can return the product to the place of purchase for a replacement crib, store credit, or refund as per each retailers policy.

Visit the Government's official recall website at: http://www.recalls.gov/

Alternately visit the page regarding the crib specifically: http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml09/09260.html

Consider signing up for their E-mail notification: http://www.recalls.gov/list.html

Bath Time Fun

Bath Time Fun

Bath time provides an excellent opportunity to clean your baby, spend some time with her, and give her a chance at some all around good fun. I love bath time.

Most little ones seem to enjoy it. My kids did. My youngest son absolutely loves it. We have a bucket with cheaply made plastic army men, policemen, firemen, and assorted vehicles. He takes them into the tub with him. When he was smaller he had duckies and other goofy looking bath toys acquired from a half dozen stores and shops.

We fill the tub up and add one of a dozen choices of bubble bath. For a time he could not resist a new bottle of bubble bath mix. If he saw a bottle on the shelf that he did not recognize I was informed that we needed it. At one point we had a dozen and a half partially full bottles. My older son likes bubble baths to, so the stuff all got used up eventually.

So when Peanut came home from the hospital I had images in my head of bath time fun and how great it would be. She would splash around. She would play with bubbles. Her love for daddy would grow ten-fold overnight.

But you can’t dunk newborns in the tub, or the sink, or even their own special baby bath. I dutifully waited for her cord to fall off. She got scrubbed with damp soft hand towels. I used lightly soapy slightly warm water.

The soap and shampoo were both tear free. Neither was tested on animals. Little girls don’t like people torturing bunnies after all. I assume. Actually I’m not sure but its not worth the risk of her hating me for washing her with a product that hurt furry little critters

Anyway I waited and scrubbed her with towels and waited some more. Finally it was time for her bath. We had gotten a baby bath at a consignment store for seven bucks. I bought this when my wife was still pregnant.

I don’t think she was pleased that I had purchased a used, beat up, and clearly discount version of a tub for her precious little angel. It seemed like a bargain. Bargains have gotten me into trouble before.

She had bought a really nice one for our first son. It cost over thirty dollars ten years ago. It was quite nice, really sturdy. The thing didn’t drain though. It had a drain hole with a plug to close it. But when you opened the plug to drain it the thing didn’t work right. I hated giving the boy a bath in it. He quickly outgrew it.

Somehow it got placed in the garage in a space away from the other baby stuff. So when my wife gave her baby stuff to a friend who was pregnant the bath didn’t go away. We didn’t need to buy one when she got pregnant again. I think she would have preferred to buy a new bath but my arguments won out. This was one of those fights where by winning you actually lose though.

I had baby’s tub ready. (I feel bad now, three months later. I really should have bought her a pretty frilly tub instead of a beat up old one.) We were ready. The tub was full of warn, not hot, water. Very comfortable really. I had her soaps ready. I got her ready and we went over to the sink. I put her in, remember ten-fold love, and.... She started bawling.

She was screaming. There were these sad little tears running down her cheeks. She was looking at me like I was a monster who eats babies for lunch. I was absolutely horrified. This had gone all wrong. A magical moment had turned into a nightmare.

She got her bath. Afterwards we had a bottle and she calmed down. Not sure what to do the best course seemed to be I decided to pretend it never happened. (My wife will find herself learning of this about the same time you do.)

The next day I almost didn’t give her a bath I was so concerned over what might happen. But I did, and man was that the right decision. She did a complete 360 in twenty four hours. She went in the tub without any complaints. She sat there in the water. She was watching the water come out of the faucet while I was washing her hair. I moved it over towards her and she put her little hand under the water and just held it there letting water flow over her arm. This was much closer to the reaction I had expected the day before.

We have had a bath everyday since then. Usually in the late afternoon when she winding down from the day. Over the following weeks she really took to her baths like a duck to water. Now she tries to drink the water when I wash her hair and face. Every bath we have a portion of time devoted to drinking water.

After she gets washed I put some soap under the running water and she gets a bunch of bubbles. She loves to watch them. Sometimes she’ll dunk her hand in them and pick some up. Then she proceeds to shake her hand wildly sending suds all over. This gets a giggle out of her every time. If I’m not careful Peanut will try to put her suds filled hand in her mouth. I guess they look yummy. But non-toxic doesn’t mean it tastes good.

Just last week she decided to kick at the water. Just because she is little doesn’t mean she can’t make a big splash. I got soaked. She thought it was hilarious. Now she kicks at the water every time.

In the long run I was right about the bonding and ever-growing love. It just didn’t work out immediately like I thought it would. We have fun together. Most importantly we have managed to make a mundane daily chore into an exciting adventure.

Baby's First Meal

Baby’s First Meal

It was time for baby’s first meal. This was very exciting for me. I wasn’t the one who fed either of my boys their first meal. My wife was. I don’t even think I was home when it happened. I was sure going to be here when my little girl had her first meal.

I know how that sounds, she four months old and I’m just now getting around to feeding her for the first time! What kind of monster am I? No. No. No. She’s been sucking back milk like a piglet for months.

Today however would be different. I was very excited but I’d also been putting it off. You can start feeding babies food (baby food of course not fried chicken) as young as four months. We have been having cereal though it isn’t much fun. At six months you can feed them fruit and vegetable puree. Its real food not watered down white slop


Recently she has been licking her chops every time she sees me eat. The other day we were in a sandwich place. Nothing fancy, they sell sandwiches and smoothies and what not. We sat down after ordering. When the sandwiches came I pulled out a cucumber slice to chomp on. Baby started licking her chops. It looks like she is pantomiming eating. Her lips go up and down a lot and she drools.

When I didn’t give her the cucumber slice she absolutely flipped out. I mean she started screaming like a maniac. So I took her to the car. (I wasn’t going to keep her in the shop. I always hate it when parents let there children cry loudly inside stores and restaurants. It’s great they have a parenting method that involves their baby ruining other people’s shopping but come on take the brat outside. You don’t need to ruin my lunch.)

I fed her a bottle. She stopped crying long enough to drink it. Afterwards she presumed to begin screaming and crying again. I swear she was still mad I didn’t give her the darn cucumber slice.


Another time a few days later I was making pasta for dinner. (Yeah I make it. If my wife does it the stuff turns to mush. Just like when she makes risotto it is always soggy. Don’t know why. It just is. Like the time she made bacon. She said it took me to long to make it my way so she would do it. What she served looked and tasted more like charcoal than bacon. She’s never asked to make bacon since.)


So anyway, I made dinner and set baby down to play while we ate. She flipped out. So I brought her to the kitchen and she sat in my lap while we ate dinner. She was licking her chops and chomping away on invisible food the whole time.


I had another similar experience before it occurred to me that she was ready to eat real food. Yeah, I’m kind of dense sometimes. So I checked out our copy of What to Expect When Your Expecting. It doesn’t say much about baby’s first year mostly because the authors want you to buy What to Expect the Fist Year. That book ends abruptly so that you need to buy a copy of What to expect the Toddler Years. The authors should wonder what to expect if they meet me since I’m irate at how much money they conned my wife out of.

We received a copy of each of them when she got pregnant the first time. When my son was three I was cleaning to make space. I saw these books and figured, “Hey, he’s three we don’t need these.” So I tossed them. A year later she was pregnant again. We dutifully expended the money to pick up a set of them again. About a year and a half ago I was cleaning again. (I should have put it off a couple weeks like I put everything else off.) I came across the books and said to myself, “Nah won’t happen” and tossed them. And about two weeks later she gave me the blessed news. So you can imagine what I did. These books ain’t going anywhere.


It was time to feed baby. I had learned the hard way about vegetables and carrots. The eldest son had mashed nannas for his first meal. He absolutely loved them. He wouldn’t eat anything else. Well that is not quite true. He liked apples, and pears, and sweet potatoes. Green beans. Nope. Those came right out. So with my second son she started him on vegetables. He didn’t care. If you put it in front of him he’d eat it. He’s was like a little garbage disposal.


I got her ready by putting her in her swing. She fits it better than she does her high chair. It is a little to big for her. We were going to have peas. It is a mashed green slurry that tastes more or less like smashed peas. (Yeah, I tried it. I wanted to know whether her slop was any good. It wasn’t.)




She was surprisingly cooperative for her first meal. Anyway she gobbled this slop down. She even grabbed my hand to pull the spoon into her mouth faster, and to far, causing her to cough and sputter. The second time she did this she didn’t choke herself. It was quite amusing.


After some spoonfuls of goop she had managed to make quite a mess of her face, and I made a mess of her head. We had a blast.
I can say it ended up in her hair. But that was my fault not hers.





Afterwards, she drank her bottle and took a bath. We played for a little bit. Then I put her down for her nap. It was all sort of anticlimactic but I’m still happy to have been a part of it.

Baby's Big Adventure

Baby's Big Adventure

Peanut has a play area in our central room. It’s a convenient location that has space for her toys and quick access for me to check up on her. However her mother, for some reason, doesn’t like the idea of her rolling around on the dirty carpet. I vacuum it twice a day so I’m not sure what the problem is.

My older son Henry sits on the filthy carpet playing X-Box and he hasn’t contracted any awful contagion. Cliff, my younger son plays robots vs. ninjas and he’s fine. Recently, since I became unemployed, I sit on it reading want ads and doing homework. I assure you that I have lots of problems but none of them are carpet related.

All of these cases aside my wife, arbitrarily, decided that Peanut would not be rolling around on the carpet. So about three months ago I went to the closet and got out a pretty blanket, made by my wife’s great-grandmother, and promptly started using it as a buffer between my girl and the floor. This particular blanket, there are many, had been sitting in the closet in a bag for five years. I had repeatedly hassled her about getting rid of it. It was taking up valuable towel real estate after all. Her eyes practically lit up in a triumphant “I told you” so gleam when she saw me using it. There was nothing subtle about it. The look said, “See we need this blanket to keep baby off of that awful carpet and you wanted to throw it out.” I learned a valuable lesson from this incident. Throw the stuff out and your wife won’t have a chance to look at you like that.

Anyway it’s actually kind of pretty. The thing is on the floor in front of the couch, convenient since that’s where I feed her. At one end is her sea-land fish adventure set (Baby Einstein) which we bought at a consignment store for thirty bucks (take that overpriced retailers). With it is her Boppy, it props her up and makes the sea critters easier to whap. At the other end of the blanket is a Sesame Street play set. Now this thing is really beat up. It is missing pieces and has toys attached to it that didn’t even come with it. But, it belonged to my oldest son and my younger son played with it when he was little. I like to imagine that my grandchildren will play with it some day.

This space is the center of her playtime world. Outside of sleeping (and napping) and eating this is where she spends her time. She can’t stand her car seat and hates going into stores. She doesn’t like her swing or vibrating chair. My boys loved the swing and the chair. Both liked riding in the car even when very little. Not Peanut, she likes it at home, and while she doesn’t like car rides she seems to like her stroller. Which, oddly enough, is her car seat attached to a two-stage stroller.

So in the morning when we get up I change her and get her dressed for the day. Hah, that’s funny. Peanut like most babies can go through three or four outfits easy. Then I feed her and burp her. Some days this is as easy as it sounds. Other days she won’t burp or one of a hundred things that turns a fifteen minute feeding into a half an hour. Then I put her in her Boppy to play with her fishes.

This is where Baby’s Big Adventure begins. For Peanut going three feet is literally the journey of her life (she is only four months after all). It’s not far. Yet it is a challenging set of maneuvers, wiggles, twists, turns, rolls and grunts. It requires all her effort and focus. It takes about fifteen minutes (a long fifteen minutes for us both, her adventuring and me couch potatoing).

It starts with her getting propped up on her Boppy

after she finishes eating. She plays with the sea critters for a few minutes but rapidly becomes bored (babies tend to have short attention spans). She then slides down so that she is effectively laying down on her back surrounded by the Boppy. Next she wiggles away from it so that she has room to maneuver. At this point she’ll turn on her side a few times rolling on her back in between as she determines which position and angle she wants. When satisfied with her trajectory she then rolls onto her belly. Sometimes she needs a quick rest at this point for a minute or so. The effort to reach this point required great exertion on her part after all.

Peanut’s quest has reached its most challenging point now. She wants to crawl desperately. This endeavor occupies at least an hour of her time every day. What she does so far is more of a scoot than a crawl. It involves a combination of pushing with her feet and pulling on the blanket with her hands (remember that terrible triumphant look). She only has about a foot or a foot and a half to go but it seems to take forever. Every move is accompanied by a grunt, moan, whine, or occasionally mighty roar. Believe it or not she actually roars. The effect is uncannily like an adult who uses a holler to aid in a challenging and strenuous physical act.

Finally she reaches the edge of the blanket. Peanut sits there on her belly head held high with the happiest grin on her face. She seems to realize that she has accomplished something here. Though I doubt she has any idea what it is. She would like to go farther than the edge of the blanket but is not quite able yet. After about a minute or so, exhausted, she lies down and sucks her thumb. So ends Baby’s Big Adventure.

I shudder at the thought of her speed-crawling throughout the house. Soon her journey of a few feet will become a marathon voyage across the room and then other parts of the house I'd prefer she not go. It won't be long until she's walking and then running. Then in a flash she'll be dating young men I can't stand. Each of these steps leading to a renewal of the cycle so that she can experience these moments that bring me so much joy.

Reflections on Fatherhood

Welcome. Thanks for coming by.

I took the picture in the heading about three years ago. We were spending a week in Ventura, Ca, visiting relatives. We were coming back after a morning’s walk along the beach. I’m walking behind my wife and youngest son. Buddy had collected every little shell and rock and piece of driftwood he could find. You can’t see it, because I’m holding the bucket, but it is overflowing with the ocean’s detritus. Buddy is getting tired from the walk and excitement. In a few minutes he’ll settle on my shoulders for the remainder of the trip. I thought it was an intimate moment so I pulled out my phone and took a picture. I especially like the footprints in the sand. My eldest son was sleeping late so he did not join us. In my heart he has a place on the left. When I look at the image I can see him, footprints and all.

Now a few short years later we have a new visitor. While watching her sleeping I wonder where she fits into the picture. Where would her footprints be? I do not have an answer. Yet.

After ten years of being a father I’m still not sure I understand what it means. Sure I’ve changed more diapers than I can count, and I can count pretty high. I took college algebra twice after all.

I’ve seen all three of my children get vaccines. None of them took it stoically. I can say that none of them screamed as loudly as some of the children in the doctor’s offices on our visits.

I’ve washed lots of clothes that have been spit up on, thrown up on, peed on, spilled on, and even sadly, a couple of times, bled on. My children aren’t nearly as accident prone as I was when young, and still am. It brings a great smile to everyone’s face when I walk into walls, doors, or tables as I routinely do.

I once stabbed myself with a fork while making dinner. My wife thought it was hilarious. The humor was lost on me. I must have had a dozen sets of stitches by the time I was ten (no, no one beat me I simply have two left feet).

There is a certain sense of terror at seeing blood coming from one of your children. That I get hurt all the time does nothing to limit the irrational belief that my children should never ever get hurt.

More mundanely I have seen my son drop a Popsicle on the floor and proceed to bawl as if the earth was ending. You want to comfort children who are so aggrieved. Yet it was mixed with an uncontrollable humor at the hyperbole of the situation. Laughing at your little ones when they are emotionally vulnerable is about as good a decision as vocally noticing your pregnant wife has put on weight (Duh, she’s pregnant, but keep your mouth shut stupid). I’ve done both.

Fatherhood is more than a collection of manly attitudes and stern behaviors that are supposed to mold your children into responsible adults. Though what the other ones are exactly eludes me. There are differences facing me today than those that faced my father when I was little. His father’s world seems totally alien to me.

My phone is an excellent example. Camera phones didn’t exist. I can remember ads for luxury cars that emphasized the perk of a phone in your car. There was even in kid in the class whose dad had a car with a phone. He loved to yap on it when he picked his son up. The world needed to know he had a car phone after all. Then cell phones came along. These things were the size of bricks and looked ridiculous. Yet here we are twenty years later and I can pull my phone out of my pocket and take pictures. It takes better pictures than my first camera.

My father simply could not do this. He would have needed a camera and he would have been conspicuous. No one even knew I took the picture. I had it on my phone for weeks until I showed anyone. It was a special moment reserved solely to me. There are days I regret ever sharing it.

My years of parenting are full of joy and world changing experiences. But there have been moments of mind numbing drudgery. I don’t particularly care for the game Candyland. Yet I have played it hundreds of times with two children and soon I will play it another hundred times with baby. To a little person the game is magical. You literally journey through a land of candy to the candy castle where the fat candy kings eats candy. One orange square. Two blue squares. Ice cream! It makes me want to scream.

So when asked, I play and smile. I do so for the light in my loved ones eyes. They magically escape, for a few minutes, to a world where everything is good and happy. Here, despite all my shortcomings as a father they are happy with me. I feel loved. I feel like I have value. Everything might turn out okay after all. All I have to do is make it to candy castle.

The only thing greater than Candyland the game is Candyland the Real-Life-Day, otherwise known as Halloween. Both my sons went trick-or-treating when they were two. Mommy was there, camera ready. Daddy was dutifully pushing the banana stroller acting as both chauffer (and engine for the stroller) and guardian to keep away the real life bogeymen we hear about on the ten o’clock news after the adventure is over.

But at two they were not really aware, and assertive enough, to experience the holiday. By three children are much more cognizant. They picked their costumes, they butchered pumpkins, and they picked out plastic pumpkins at Wal-Mart to store their loot in.

This is their game come to life. They are wearing costumes, think gingerbread men moving along the game-board. You don’t think they see colored gingerbread men when they play do you? They go from house to house getting treats. Think the special tokens on the board and the excitement at finding that you get the card on your turn.
My youngest son was thrilled to pick the tokens, even if it meant moving backward. Because he got the lollypop, him not me. After a game he would look through the cards and find the ones that hadn’t been drawn. He wanted to know how close he was to having picked one if the game had not ended.

On Halloween they live the magical adventure. You go up to somebody’s door rap on it and they give you candy. Some of the adults are even dressed up themselves. My oldest son, who was three when Halloween rolled around one year, had the best time. He went to the door, timidly and with daddy at his side, got his candy and walked down to the curb.
After every house we had to stop and look in the bag and try to locate the new addition to his ever growing sack of cavities. You could tell by his face whether he thought he had received a good piece of candy, an extra generous amount, or whether the adults had been less that forthcoming. It was a very interesting night.

My second son had a similar experience when he was three. It was exciting and filled with a sense of wonderment. Except, he had a plan. He wanted to fill his sack. We didn’t stop to investigate after each house. He simply kept going. Or I did since I was the chauffeur again. After each door he got back in his stroller and said, “Daddy, next house.” I dutifully obliged. His brother and mother followed at their own pace. After about a half an hour he simply stated, “Done.” “Go home.”

So he and I went back to my father’s house (we go there every year and have dinner before trick-or-treating in his neighborhood. Some of the adults giving my sons candy were the same ones who gave me candy twenty years ago.

Once back we spent the next half hour sorting and organizing his goodies. By the time we were done his mother and brother had shown up. I should have been paying attention because my little buddy was working on his next plan.

At our house after Halloween you can have one piece of candy from your bag after school and one more after dinner. For my oldest son this is plenty since like his mother he is not fond of sweets. My little buddy, however, is like me and has a terrible sweet tooth.

So anyway, my buddy had another plan. One day shortly after, I’m still unsure when exactly, a bunch of candy disappeared from his bag. I didn’t even notice. I’m really not a bad man. We all miss things, once in a while.

I found out by chance three weeks after Halloween when I caught the dog licking a candy wrapper. Thinking she had gotten into the bags I went to investigate. After much perplexed searching I found a cache of empty candy wrappers hidden under the end table next to the TV. Many, ok almost all, of them were empty. There must have been about a dozen. They were all chocolate bars, the small and mini versions so commonly given out including Butterfingers, Snickers, and so on.

What was so bizarre about the whole thing is that on Halloween at my father’s he had sorted the candy into groups one of which was the chocolate bar group. The empty wrappers got tossed on the floor behind the table but there were a couple pieces of candy still uneaten in the bag.

I asked him why he did this. He responded so that he could have some candy. The unsaid statement being that he wanted to be able to have a piece of candy when he wanted it not when Daddy said he could have it. I asked him when and he either wouldn’t or more likely couldn’t tell me due to his limited understanding of the flow of days into weeks. I asked him where I was when he did this and he said I was in the bathroom reading the newspaper.

He’s clever and sneaky. Hopefully his innate traits can be channeled into something good and productive. I hate to think he’s gearing up for a life of fleecing people.

Several years since then I now have three children. The newest addition is a girl. I have hopes and dreams for her. I also have concerns, some are the same for all three, and some obviously apply to just her. But I’m still not sure what any of it means.

I go in to get her when she wakes up from her nap and she gives me the biggest smile. It fills me with a sense of love and of being needed.

Now as I watch my little one grow through the most remarkable development of her life I feel the desire to share my experiences and hear the stories of others. The growth from newborn to toddler over the first three years of life is utterly remarkable. Babies learn to crawl, walk, talk, interact with other children, and interact with adults. By five they are learning to read, count, and think.

Feel free to share you stories in the post. If you have a family blog or site e-mail me a leave a link. I’ll check it out. Good health to you and yours.