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I never paid much attention to gas prices before they became topic #1 on the evening news. Pre-baby, I had a dependable, dated, but very fuel efficient compact car. My commute to work is less than five miles round-trip (sorry, Commuter Mom). We would use my husband’s much more comfortable SUV for long trips, and I filled my tank once every four weeks or so. But then I got pregnant and bought my first real grown-up car, a lovely pre-owned gas-guzzling SUV, which calls for premium unleaded, of course. And then gas prices soared above $4/gallon. And then New Girl decided she would no longer nap in her crib at home. She naps just fine at the center. She sleeps just fine all night long in her crib. But just try putting her in the crib around noon, and I’m met with inconsolable howls of protest. With only two weekend days to work with each week, it’s been impossible to “nap train” her the way we did for bedtime sleep. Plus, if it’s after 10:00 a.m. and we get in the car, she falls asleep like a champ.
So, we’ve gotten in the habit of simply planning our weekend errands around long drives in the car. I will go a very very very long way anywhere and everywhere as long as New Girl gets her zzzs. In many ways, it’s not as inconvenient as you might think. As much as we may be tied to the car, I have a friend who struggles with the fact that she MUST be home from 1:00-3:00 — no ifs, ands, or buts — in order for her son to get the nap he needs at home. At least we’re mobile. But with sky-high gas prices, I’ve calculated that these mobile naps may be costing us as much as $40 a weekend, not to mention the cost to the environment. My mother says it’s common for children in child care to refuse to nap in their cribs at home. However, I think her entire survey sample includes myself and my sister. Has anyone else had this experience?
Two weeks after my son was born the news outlets were ablaze with information about harmful chemicals in the plastic that baby bottles are made out of. I wasn’t sure if this was another news scare tactic, but since it was my child, why take the risk? He was so young and we had many months of bottle feeding ahead of us. I did research and found safe baby bottles that could only be ordered online. Problem solved. Now there is a new study about harmful chemicals found in baby bath products. You mean that my son’s bath time is potentially putting him in harm’s way? Again, who knows if the chemicals are as bad as the news wants us to believe, but why risk it? So out I go, doing research into all-natural baby care products. I guess I’ll dump that huge vat of baby wash I just bought at Costco…but won’t that just pollute the water? As a new mom, it’s hard enough to find the products that work best for your child, but with all this information coming out about harmful chemicals in seemingly everything, it’s even worse.
It’s time for our annual trip to Ontario, Canada, for a week of fishing, swimming, blueberry picking, and other “getting back to nature” activities. I know the journey is supposed to be half the fun, but given that I’m already hyperventilating at the thought of getting there, I’m doubtful. The air fare is extraordinary. Add to that the fact that we have to go through customs in Toronto before boarding a turboprop for the 2nd portion of the trip, the insane hours at which we need to depart and return to make it even viably affordable, and the thought of holding my 35-pound 1-year-old on my lap the entire time, and I’m ready to call Triple A for driving directions.
But that option isn’t looking great either. The drive is 16 hours each way…without stops. Given that we’ll be traveling with our 6, 3, and 1-year-olds, I’m banking on stopping…a lot. It will be impossible to do the drive in one day, so I’ll need to find a family-friendly hotel along the route. And then there’s the gas, which will likely cost more than our mortgage payment. I figure the kids will be cranky either way, so that variable is a wash. HELP! Which way should we go?
My father was an English teacher for 25 years. He raised us to be avid readers and to appreciate literature. I grew up reading whenever I could; the books varied — sometimes they were serious works, other times they were just fun, mindless “summer” reads.
My father started a tradition right around when I started middle school. He would take us to the bookstore the first Sunday of every month. We went other days for other reasons, but this was a special day. That day we got our monthly book allowance. With our allowance, my brother and I were allowed to buy any books we wanted (granted, that was when you could get books for less than $10). If we spent more, we had to use our regular allowance — if we spent less, Dad got to keep the change. We were allowed to get one cartoon book (my brother was partial to Garfield and Calvin and Hobbes), but the other books had to have more words than pictures. It was so exciting to get a new book that we picked out. It wasn’t something we had to read for school. It wasn’t chosen by Mom, Dad, or Aunt Sue. It was our choice…our adventure or story to get drawn into.
I don’t have many of my books from when I was little, but I do have Stuart Little, Charlotte’s Web, James and the Giant Peach, and The Lorax. Commuter Girl has a recent fascination with The Lorax, and it has been really fun to read my old faded copy with her. As soon as I think she’ll sit still long enough for a full chapter, we are definitely going to start Charlotte’s Web. And I can’t wait to begin the tradition of a monthly book allowance.
Let me be crystal clear about one thing. ELMO. I HATE him. New Girl doesn’t watch TV, expect for on a few occasion when she is sick. She’s never seen Sesame Street or Elmo’s World, or anything of the like. But three months ago we went to one birthday party that had an inflatable Elmo, and it was like crack for babies. She couldn’t stop staring and saying his name. Now she has noticed (as have I), all of a sudden, that Elmo is on her diapers, her band-aid from the doctor, her friend’s mother’s key chain. She even noticed the Elmo books that had been a gift at a baby shower and which I thought I had tossed aside. She wants me to read them to her every night.
Part of my problem is the simple fact that she has developed a completely unnatural attraction to something that has never done anything for her. He never spoke to her, did any tricks, or cuddled her in a time of need. Just standing there at a birthday party was enough to get her hooked. My other big problem is that this character created for supposedly non-commercial public television, which I had always believed was at least committed to the best interest of children and education, is the biggest commercial force there is. You have to actually go out of your way to buy diapers, band-aids, sippy cups, birthday decorations, and the like, WITHOUT Elmo on them. And the books are the antithesis of educational material. They are everything an early educator would warn you about, with no rhyme, no rhythm, no story, terrible illustrations — and they are, in fact, just an ad for more Sesame Street characters.
I know I could switch diaper brands, ask the pediatrician for plain bandages, and throw away the books, but New Girl, whose diaper’s have never leaked, who doesn’t cry when she gets her shots, and who loves the bus on page 6 of Elmo’s Guessing Game About Colors, hasn’t done anything wrong in loving the red fuzzy guy. So I ask, what’s a parent to do?
Finally. My daughter has indicated her interest in potty training, which, according to my pediatrician, is our green light to put her in underpants. I discussed it with her preschool teachers and they seem more than ready for the challenge. They told me that they trained 10 kids in one week a few months ago. I was delighted to hear that; if they could do 10 in one week, they could probably do my one in a day (can’t hurt to dream)! So this morning, we took our first ride to school with my daughter in her panties, and wouldn’t you know it, we got stuck in a major traffic jam. We were stalled for about two minutes, when I heard the words I was dreading from the back seat, “momma, I need to go poop.” There was no turning around, and no way to get out of the traffic line. So I tried to cajole, to reason, to guide, and to bribe my daughter to wait until we got to school. And it worked! We ran into school where I deposited my daughter, four extra changes of clothes, and six pairs of panties. And I have to admit, this is one day when I am glad she’s in child care. I can’t wait to see how much progress she makes during the day…I hope it’s enough so that our ride home is stress…and mess…free.
I was at the store with Commuter Girl the other day when she pointed to a stuffed animal and said she needed it. I told her no, and asked her if she had any money to buy it. She looked at me and said, “Mama, I need some cash.” She’s 2 ½! We were out running errands and I told her that one of our stops was the bank. We drove through the ATM (by the way, whoever thought of drive through ATMs is a genius) and she asked if we were at the piggy bank.
I want Commuter Girl to understand that we work hard to earn our money and that she can’t have everything she wants. I want her to realize that sometimes you have to wait and save money before you can buy something really special. She can’t just walk into Gymboree and buy the sunglasses she wants, or the kayak she was eyeing at LL Bean – ok, maybe that involved a little encouragement from Commuter Dad. So, when can I start her on an allowance? How do I start to educate my 2 ½ year old about finances?
I can’t believe it. I’ve become the Mom who hasn’t had a babysitter in the year since my daughter was born. We did have a niece babysit one night after New Girl went to sleep so we could go out to dinner, but it barely seemed to count. We were two miles away and New Girl slept the whole time. It’s not that I’m afraid to leave my daughter with a sitter. She does go to child care every weekday, after all. It’s just that New Dad and I have yet to prefer the idea of going out just as two adults, or even with others, than we have to spend our few precious non-working waking hours with our daughter. Is that bad? Truth be told, if I did have a few extra baby-free hours, I’d like to get my overgrown, over-gray hair cut and colored. I’d like to finally pack away my maternity clothes. New Dad would like to finish the many home improvement projects he has half done.
But still, we would rather do one more trike ride around the block, draw one more sidewalk chalk masterpiece, or take one more trip to the playground than do any of those things. On the one hand, I know we should really get some babysitters in the rotation so that we have them when we really need them, but on the other hand, why would I invite someone in to my home (let alone pay them) to do the thing I’d most like to be doing in the world. Is that completely lame?
Five years later we’ve finally undertaken the landscaping project we were going to do as soon as we moved into our house. And truth be told, I’m glad we waited. Because though I’m nearly giddy about the new flowering bushes and the trees we planted, there is no way I would have been able to muster up an iota of excitement about the dump truck and bobcats that have been at our house for the last week. My kids, however, are in 7th heaven. I finally realize that they don’t merely point and exclaim, “truck,” every time we pass one simply because they know the word. They actually find them quite thrilling. Having them on our own front lawn? A fantasy come true.
And that’s not the half of it. Holding the worms and studying the ant colonies that have been unearthed during this project is one hundred times better than watching Animal Planet. Just because I get the willies when they excitedly show me their “wormies,” doesn’t mean I’m not thrilled that they’re finding the natural world exciting. My 6-year-old thinks he’s part of the work crew; he grabs his shovel every time the trucks pull up. Who knows, maybe if things work out he can have an internship next year instead of going to day camp. As for my little “Growing Scientists,” they now have their very own laboratory in their front yard. And in the minds of a 1, 3, and 6, year old, what could be more fun than that.
I am beside myself. My sweet cuddly little girl is turning into a bully. Last week she kicked another child off of the climber. Yesterday I came home and found out she was hitting her friends at school. Her teachers wouldn’t tell us who it was, but of course Commuter Girl told us within 30 seconds…it was one of her best friends! At least twice a week her teacher is telling us that she has had to be removed from activities for misbehaving. At home, we try to talk about why hitting and kicking are wrong; we talk about using words and not hands. But, does a 2 ½-year-old really understand that?
I’m sure this is all common toddler behavior, but I just don’t know how to handle it. Her teachers have asked us how we address the hitting at home. We don’t. She doesn’t hit at home. Am I just making excuses by assuming that some of this is due to the influence of the other children at school? She wasn’t afraid of “monsters” until a few of the other children started talking about it in her class. Would she be misbehaving as much if I stayed home with her rather than going to work?!? Is she just bored?!
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