The best non-toys

OK, you’ve all heard the cliché about the big fancy toy in the cardboard box.  This is not about that, but it is about the other random, mundane, unexpected and even weird things that I’ve discovered have the ability to captivate little ones for far longer than anything Mattel makes.

Silicone pastry/basting brush: If I were planning on roasting my baby, she’d come out so juicy and golden brown that Martha Stewart would be envious.  That’s how much Lady Fair likes to be ‘basted’.  She vibrates with happiness when we tickle her feet with it.  The best part is that it’s totally dishwasher safe, so when Little Man decides to grab it out of his sister’s hands and tickle his scrotum with it (boys and their dangly bits, I tell ya) we can clean it right up.

Spoon: Little Man was NOT a toy-lover.  In fact, the first ‘toy’ he ever paid attention to was a spoon and that was when he was sitting up in a chair.  I suppose it’s a nice teether, especially if run under chilly water first.  The main benefit from a parent’s perspective though is that you really never have to pack it.  Every relative you visit and restaurant you patronize has a spoon on hand.  It’s a lazy mother’s dream.

Pill organizer: It should go without saying that I’m talking about an EMPTY pill organizer.  Not sure why, but something about opening and closing (and opening and closing) each one of those compartments is positively addictive.  It also serves as a perfect storage spot for little rocks (read more on rocks below).

Keys:  Keys, keys, wonderful keys.  How would I ever get through a grocery shopping trip without you?  I bet you didn’t know the coin slot on your grocery cart was actually a lock waiting to be opened by a toddler with keys, did you?  Well, I did because Little Man’s been working on that lock weekly for the last 18 months or so.

Rocks:  Luckily he doesn’t actually look like the Rock Biter, but Little Man’s taste for putting rocks in his mouth is straight out of the Never Ending Story.  Which also brings me to thanking goodness we did Baby-led solids, so his skills with foreign objects in his mouth were very advanced.  When he’s not eating them, he’s banging things with them, stacking them, filling his pockets with them.

Clothes pins:  Not only are they good for pinching your frenemies, they double as jewelery and hair clips and you can make sculptures out of them.

Peri bottles: Yes, you read that right.  The thing your midwife or OB gave you to wash your bruised and battered bottom after you pushed your kiddo into the world, don’t throw it out.  In just a few short months that will become the most sought-after bath toy of all time.  Consider disinfecting it in the meantime though.

And then of course, there’s that cardboard box too…

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Side-Effects of Potty Learning

Little Man got quite interested in potty use about 6 weeks before Lady Fair was born, but as soon as she came he decided he couldn’t be bothered anymore.  That was fine, I really didn’t want to be chasing after late-noticed pees while holding a newborn.  But he stayed in this irritating in-between state where, although he wasn’t interested in the potty, he was also vehemently opposed to having his diaper changed.  So a couple of weeks ago, when the weather got warm scorchingly hot and we started playing in the water table outside, I nudged him toward diaper free daytimes.

All went great, except…

It seems that toddler bums emanate some sort of powerful magnetic field.  The force is so strong that the affected munchkin is utterly unable to keep his fingers free of it.  They seem to be perpetually glued to his bottom.  Sucked in, even.  And do you know what happens when small children stick their fingers in their butts?  They go on to stick them in their eyes and the next thing you know, you have pink eye.

But here’s the thing.  As hilariously gross as the origin of the infection is… the real fun comes from Mr. Fair’s reaction to it.  Because the truth is, pretty much all he knows about pink eye, he learned from Seth Rogen in Knocked Up.  So while I’m busy trying to keep Little Man’s hands out of both his tuckus and his face, Mr. Fair is running around the house quarantining pillows in case they got farted on…

Boys crack me up.  (Pun completely intended.)

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The Undiscussed Risks of Babywearing

Wow I love babywearing.  I love it so much, I’ve become an ‘evangelist’ of sorts, always recommending it to my fecund friends.  I’ve even convinced a couple of them to give it a shot.  In line with my enthusiasm, I’m always diligent about touting its benefits. For instance, the freedom of movement it gives me to have my little ones nap in the sling.  I never have to cut short a trip to the mall with girlfriends because of nap time, because the sling allows us to take naptime with us.  How wonderful!

But it has occurred to me of late, that I may not be engaging in a fully transparent discussion of the negatives of babywearing.  I pride myself on being fair and balanced, so this oversight is a big deal.  This post is my attempt to rectify the situation.

• Muscle Soreness.  Carseat-toting parents often report shoulder and arm pain that sounds the opposite of fun.  Babywearers, on the other hand, may find gluteal pain to be an issue.  This is the result of performing the grande plies necessary to carry out household tasks like opening bottom drawers and picking toys up off the floor.  Those with extensive ballet training have an 86%[1] lower risk of acquiring a sore ass.
• Choking.  Wearing a baby for several hours a day can conflict with parental meal times.  Babywearers are often obligated to consume their dinner while bouncing a baby in the sling and this can, not surprisingly, create a choking hazard for the parent.  At the very least it makes it more likely that your scrambled eggs will get snorted up into your sinuses when they were meant to head down your esophagus.
• Poor Infant Hygiene.  The above-mentioned choking is only one side of the eating-while-wearing coin.  The other side is that bits of your food will occasionally fall onto your baby’s head, necessitating more frequent baths.  Particularly problematic is mayo as, not only is it sticky, but if not noticed promptly, it can also lead strangers to believe you let your kid hang out with bird crap on her head.
• Increased Housing Costs.  Attempting to bounce your almost-but-not-quite asleep baby while peeing can cause your toilet to loosen from the floor, upping bathroom reno costs by 8,000%.
• Maternal Arrest by the Fashion Police.  While many things are made easier with babywearing, putting shoes on is not one of those things.  Consequently, you may find yourself in (frequent) violation of Section 334.6 of the Fashion Code of Conduct[2], which clearly states that hot pink Crocs are NOT an acceptable shoe choice for public outings.

This is by no means an inclusive list, but I hope it does serve to illustrate some of the considerations that must be taken into account before engaging in any babywearing activities, and to begin a frank and open discussion about the darker side of this otherwise valuable practice.

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[1] Please note, this and any other statistics presented within this article are complete bullshit.

[2] For more information, please see [1].

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Parenting Pipedreams

As I’m relearning now that Lady Fair is here, duration of night time sleep is held by our culture as some sort of penultimate measure of not only baby’s ‘goodness’ but of the parents’ ability to enjoy their daily activities as adults, even in the midst of the most intense parenting period.  I like my sleep, I really do.  I’ll appreciate it when my kids are old enough to walk themselves over to me for a goodnight kiss, walk themselves up to bed and stay there until they walk themselves downstairs for breakfast in the morning.

But you know what?  There are so many other things I’ll appreciate every bit as much as a full night’s sleep, that NO ONE ever asks me about.  Here’s a short list of what are currently pipedreams for this mama:

• Finishing my entire cup of coffee without having to reheat it once, let alone 5 times
• Having a phone conversation without having to shush anyone, or leap up off the couch to prevent my toddler from breaking a limb
• Using the bathroom without having to simultaneously bounce a baby… or leap off the toilet to prevent my toddler from breaking a limb
• Writing a blog post without having to swat little fingers away from the oh-so-exciting computer power button
• Watching a movie without falling asleep
• Clipping all of my toenails in one sitting

There were many others, but I forgot what they were when I went to reheat my coffee…

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What you can learn from Inspector Gadget

Since I’ve caved in to TV watching with my son, I sat down with him yesterday and watched an episode of Inspector Gadget.  I loved it when I was a kid, but watching it again, I realized it has some pretty good lessons in it, if you’re paying attention.  Or maybe I’m just rationalizing…

via Wikipedia

1. All of the gadgets in the world aren’t as useful as a well-tuned brain.

2. Point number one aside, infinitely extendable arms do come in handy.

3. Girls have the power to be heroes.

4. Children have the power to be heroes.

5. The real heroes don’t always get the credit they deserve, but they keep doing the work that needs doing.

6. There are hidden cameras everywhere.  (This one is particularly pertinent if you live in the UK where there are, in fact, cameras everywhere.)

7. Bad guys exist but you don’t hide from them.  You live your life, keep your wits about you and, when necessary, fight them.

8. It’s impossible to know what a bad guy looks like.

9. Dogs are helpful companions; cats are evil onlookers.  (Sorry cat-lovers.)

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Wordless Wednesday: The Sleepwalker

One of these days I’ll put a nightvision camera in his room so I can figure out how he gets into these positions.

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Things that make you go huh? Special over-the-hill edition

I frequently have tidbits I feel like sharing.  They’re often off-topic to this blog, sometimes I’ve Tweeted them through the week, sometimes they’re too long for Twitter (but not long enough for their own blog post) and sometimes it’s just a recounting of the adorableness of Little Man.  Either way, I collect them all here and send them out for some Friday fun.

So, the evidence has been mounting quickly lately… I’m getting old.  You would think that having a baby, watching him turn ONE, buying (no more renting!) a home, or my fast-approaching 30th birthday would have tipped me off to this fact a while ago.  But it’s really only starting to hit me.  Here are a few of the things that have really made it sink in lately:

While following our federal election campaign incessantly (political junkie that I am), I was thoroughly enjoying Rick Mercer’s rant about youth not voting.  I was appalled at my fellow young Canadians and their political apathy.  That is, until one minute and thirteen seconds in, when he stopped saying ‘youth’ and said instead ’18-25′.  Egad.  I haven’t been ‘youth’ for half a decade.  Shit.

Of course, I should have been tipped off to this even earlier.  My aforementioned political addiction also leads me to watch parliamentary proceedings on TV on a semi-regular basis.  On the day the government fell, I was watching Question Period, when the camera turned to an MP from my home area.  A guy I used to have a crush on.  When I was in 7th grade and he still had hair on the top of his head.  Double shit.

While loading pictures onto the computer today I actually stopped to marvel at the flash drive that holds 2GB of data.  The first computer we owned had a 5″ floppy drive.  Backing it up used so many disks, they took a tier on the bookshelf.

For the record, I'm not sure I am actually older than the internet...

But that’s all just circumstantial evidence.  I’m still youthful even if I’m not technically ‘youth’, right?  That’s what I thought until I went to the mall.  I walked into one of the underwear stores and two thoughts immediately popped into my head prove I’m old:

1. Ooh, goody, neon is BACK! (Yup, because I remember when it was in the first time, that’s how old I am)

2. Ooh, wow, those panties don’t look comfortable at ALL!

Old.  Oldy-old-old.  That’s me.  But I guess there could be worse things.

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Things that make you go… huh? March 18

I frequently have tidbits I feel like sharing.  They’re often off-topic to this blog, sometimes I’ve Tweeted them through the week, sometimes they’re too long for Twitter (but not long enough for their own blog post) and sometimes it’s just a recounting of the adorableness of Little Man.  Either way, I collect them all here and send them out for some Friday fun.

It’s been a long time since I’ve given blood.  Now that I’m eligible again, I’m really looking forward to it.  What I’m not looking forward to is the ridiculously invasive sexual history questionnaire.  Because really, if my ex-boyfriend had been a heroine-shooting gay prostitute in the Congo in the late seventies… do you really think he’d tell me?

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It was nice enough this week to spend some time playing outside with Little Man!  So far he’s tried to eat numerous wood chips, rocks and even a worm carcass.  Yup, definitely my kid.

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So last week we were making fun of Suri Cruise for having a pacifier in her mouth, this week it’s penis candy.  Poor kid.

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My heart so goes out to everyone in Japan.  But I do hope we’re not forgetting that there’s big-ass war brewing in Libya and that Egypt and Tunisia are currently sans government.  Things could go very badly, very quickly and I can’t stop thinking about the millions of already poor civilians who have very little capacity to tolerate this.

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