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I’d like to say that my daughter never watches television, but I’d be telling a lie. Up until now, she would watch the typical shows – Curious George, Super Why, Sid the Science Kid. Pretty much anything on PBS is fair game. But then, she found me watching Top Chef re-runs and now she is obsessed with cooking shows. I really don’t think it is a passing fancy as it has been going on for a while now. Currently, her favorite show is America’s Test Kitchen.
That may have changed last night. We had a tough night. There were lots of tears for no apparent reason. There was running, there was dinner in the trash due to lack of interest and bad manners, and there were more tears. And, then there was Rachael Ray. My husband put on The Food Network in hopes that it would distract our preschooler from her tears. It was like magic. My daughter was the quietest, most well-behaved little girl as long as Rachael was teaching her how to make burgers. She loved watching her measure (sort of) and mix. We talked about frying and ovens. It was the first time she’s really watched TV with commercials, so there was a little bit of confusion when Rachael “left.” But, we worked through it. And we made plans to bake cookies for her teachers this weekend. Chocolate cookies.  Much to my husband’s dismay (he would rather watch a little Giada), I think Rachael Ray may have to become an honorary member of our family…or at least a part of our family TV rotation.
Digital photos can be uploaded to the Ceiva site – the photos are then automatically downloaded to a digital picture frame. What a great way to keep grandparents up to date with pictures of your children.
I’ve come across more information about prenatal and children’s vitamins containing lead. These articles put my mind at ease a bit…until something else comes along like how our bath water is poisoning us.
My 2-year-old daughter is pretty much smack in the middle of the road when it comes to temperament and behavior – really – even her teachers say so. She’s not difficult, but is spunky. She’s never a terror, but can be impish. She throws the occasional tantrum, but it’s not an everyday occurrence. She’s most certainly not laid back, but can usually be reasoned with. But just when I was feeling full of confidence about our parenting of this “middle of the pack” little girl, I took a poorly calculated risk and accepted an afternoon playdate at the mall, capped off with dinner at a restaurant, with one of her best friends from school and all four parents.
My daughter has two terrific friends at the center, one boy and one girl. They are three peas in a pod, with three very different personalities. Had the little boy’s mom invited us for dinner out, it would have been all hands on deck to keep both kids in their seats, and I would have felt we’d have been on an even playing field. Instead we were with this little girl who is a model of good behavior, even at just 2 years old. She can run around the halls of the mall laughing and giggling with the best of them, and then when it comes time to wait for a table, wait for the food, eat and then wait for the bill, she sits patiently, quietly content to draw pictures, pick at her pasta and examine a spoon. My daughter, on the other hand, wanted run through the maze of tables, patrons and waitstaff while the hostess tried to seat us. She was doing gymnastics on our side of the booth, trying to climb over the bench, under the table, and everywhere else. My husband and I appeared to be in yoga poses as we twisted and turned ourselves to keep our daughter in one place while making a feeble attempt to eat our own meals. Crayons kept her occupied for 30 seconds while books became Frisbees and food was of no interest. Across the table, our dining companions were calmly eating, sharing food and conversation. They were even relaxed enough to order dessert – albeit to go. Had we been alone, I wouldn’t have considered my daughter’s behavior to be unreasonable for a toddler, but compared to our company I felt like I just got a world class drubbing in the game of public parenting. I think my ego will take a spot on the injured reserve before looking for a rematch.
My almost-2-year-old son has a double standard when it comes to my husband and me. On the nights when my husband puts him to sleep, I hear cooing and giggling pouring out of his bedroom. I hear my husband read him a couple of stories and my son try to imitate the words. I hear them say good night to the menagerie of stuffed animals in the room and then I hear the sweet sounds of a lullaby. My husband emerges from the room, my son is sound asleep, and we move on with the evening. When it’s my turn to do the bedtime routine things look completely different. From the moment I pick up my son to carry him upstairs he starts wailing and thrashing. This behavior continues while I try to put him in his Good Night diaper and pajamas, despite my cooing, singing, pleading, and cajoling. When we move to the glider for story time, he keeps wriggling and rarely settles in for a good read. He continues protesting the entire bedtime ritual while I settle him in his crib, and it isn’t until I return to his room a second time that he quiets down.
I’ve watched my husband do the routine. He’s no gentler than I, his voice no more on key. So why the struggle? My husband says it’s because my son prefers spending time with me and is therefore upset when he realizes it’s time to say goodnight. A kind hypothesis, but clearly a pacification. I don’t want to completely cede responsibility for the bedtime routine because I know (I insist on continuing to believe) that it can be an important bonding opportunity. So I will persist. I will practice my singing, fine tune my technique, and hope that each night will be a bit better than the one before.
From the maker of Boudreaux’s Butt Paste, the solution for children's chapped lips. Boudreaux’s Baby Kisses comes in a tube that applies directly to the lips, so toddlers think it’s lipstick, which but it can also be applied to the dry skin on cheeks, chins and other areas around the mouth. It works wonders and is widely available for $2.99/tube.
On the way to a recent doctor’s appointment, my son decided to dirty his diaper just as we were arriving. Since the doctor’s office was inside a hospital, I figured there would be a changing table inside the lobby bathroom. Wrong! So I looked around thinking I didn’t want to change him out in the open (it was a dirty diaper if you catch my drift), nor did I want to put him on my lap or the floor of the bathroom, so I placed him on the narrow piece of counter between the two sinks and hoped no one would come in. While I was in the process of discovering the wipes in my bag were mostly dried out, and balancing my son’s body on the counter, he nonchalantly waved his hand under the sink. Because it was a motion sensor sink, the water turned on, getting his arm and sleeve all wet. Thinking it was fun, he kept doing it over and over until his diaper was changed. Needless to say, we wasted a lot of water and needed an outfit change too. You would think a hospital of all places would have an easier, more sanitary place to change diapers.
There’s been a lot of talk lately about whether or not Michael Phelps can still be a good role model after being photographed smoking from a “marijuana pipe” (am I dating myself, or didn’t they used to call it a bong?) at a party. There are those who think he’s a young kid who made a mistake and can be a good role model by doing the right thing after being caught. There are others who think that swimming really fast isn’t enough to make him role model material in the first place.
My daughter is only 2, so I’m not yet concerned about Michael Phelps, or Britney Spears, or any other famous person and their effect on my child. But having a 2 year old has taught me two relevant things. First, everyone, everywhere is a role model, good or bad. Children model the behaviors of parents, teachers, friends, relatives, TV characters, neighbors, store clerks, etc. Heck, just yesterday, my own daughter was modeling a dog by crawling around the room and barking (and we don’t even have a dog). It’s a lesson I’m trying to apply at my job – don’t ever act in a way you wouldn’t want to be seen by your child.
The second lesson I take from my mothering life and apply to Michael Phelps, is that accountability is a really important attribute in a child, even as young 2. It’s not ok just to learn that she must apologize if she hits someone, she must also learn not to do it again. If she’s going to have the special privilege of, say, putting on Mommy’s lipstick, she must learn to treat the lipstick gently. If she doesn’t, it will be some time before she gets the opportunity again.
In my mind, earning 14 gold medals made Michael Phelps an unwitting role model, entitled to make a stupid mistake, apologize for it, and learn from it. He passes the first part of my test. But he fails on the second account. Michael Phelps isn’t an unwitting role model and he’s not just a young kid entitled to make that kind of mistake. He has earned millions of dollars from sponsors to represent them and their brands. When he violated his obligation to them he demonstrated a clear lack of accountability. In my mind he earned a time out not just from competitive swimming, and not just from endorsing their brands, but also from role modeling for quite some time.
I’m not a big fan of Valentine’s Day. I admit there’s a piece of me that harbors hopes of being surprised with dozens of roses, a fancy dinner, and gobs of chocolate, but such fantasies aside, I could do without the holiday altogether. What little respect I can muster up for the big day is purely about romance. As for making it a children’s celebration, bah humbug. So I was a bit put off to receive class lists for all of my kid’s classrooms the other day with the expectation that each child would prepare Valentine’s cards for every child in the room.When you take into account my three kids, that’s more than 60 Valentine’s I’m being asked to provide – not to mention the one for my husband. I don’t want my kids to feel left out, so I’ll do it. But I’ll do it reluctantly. I find it to be an imposition and if that makes me a cupid-scrooge, so be it. President’s Day, on the other hand, now there’s a holiday I can embrace. A Monday off of work and off of school…makes perfect sense to me.
My daughter is a poster child for What Not to Wear. She has decided that you should always wear a skirt to school – even if your mother makes you wear pants underneath it – and like Modern Mom’s son thought, you should try to wear two different shoes whenever possible.
Here are a couple of recent wardrobe highlights: - Pink and brown striped pants, rainbow socks with one blue and one patent leather mary jane, purple polka dot skirt, red shirt with black polka dots
- Brown pants, pink polka dot skirt, orange shirt (which she tried to wear backwards)
- Jeans, purple polka dot skirt (again), pink glitter shoes, red t-shirt
- Blue shorts, white socks pulled up to her knees, pink glitter shoes, white tank top
Long sleeves in 30 degree weather? Who needs them? She loves to wear tank tops and “short-sleeved pants.” After lots of tears I did finally get smart and put all her warm weather clothes on a shelf where she can’t reach them – now she can wear anything in her bureau.
I’ve decided to embrace her creativity rather than feed my need for her to be coordinated and not care that she looks like she went to the lost and found to get dressed. I just can’t deal with the battle in the morning. But, I do remind her every day before she goes to school, “When everyone tells you how much they like your outfit, make sure you tell them you picked it out all by yourself!”
Pants too short? Instead of packing away or getting rid of pants that are too short on your child but still fit in the waist, try adding a piece of fun material to the bottom to make a cuff. Even if you can't sew, iron on bonding will do the trick. It'll be a whole new pair of pants for a fraction of the cost.
I am thrilled that our Bright Horizons Child Care Center has announced that it will be offering a “Parents’ Night Out” on the Friday before Valentine’s Day. I think it’s creative, thoughtful and sounds fun for my daughter. The problem is, I’m not sure I’m really going to do it. In short, they are offering child care from 6:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. on Friday night. They will serve dinner, get kids dressed in their pjs and have fun activities, all for a fee that is roughly equivalent to what I would pay for three hours of babysitting. But what to do with a 2-year-old daughter who never goes to bed after 8:15 p.m. at the absolute latest? They said they’d put younger children, or any others who want it, to bed on their nap mats earlier, if requested. But then I’d have to wake her to pick her up and take her home only to put her back to bed again. I’ve contemplated sending her for just the first hour or hour and a half to give her the change of pace of having dinner with her friends and teachers, which I think she might actually enjoy. But that would amount to a very expensive and brief Parents’ Night Out to the grocery store or some other mundane errand rather than the intended relaxing romantic dinner. I feel bad if I don’t support the center’s offering, because I really want them to know how much I appreciate it. On the other hand, I struggle with the fact that I just don’t think it’s the right fit for us this time around. I guess I hope there are many others who DO participate so that when our little one builds up the stamina to enjoy the occasional late night treat, they’re still offering it.
Here’s why I like kids better than adults. My 3-year-old daughter was recently diagnosed with a hearing loss for which she needs hearing aids. When we were first told, I was sad, angry, and worried. But after a few days of letting it sink in, I became completely excited that there was a way to help her hear better. I couldn’t wait for the aids to arrive and for my daughter to begin wearing them. Virtually all of the adults I told had the same initial reaction as I. They thought they ought to console, and I had to explain that we were actually feeling very enthusiastic about it. But I did worry about how the kids in her preschool class would react. I bought some books on hearing aides and asked the teachers to read them to the class ahead of time so they might be more sympathetic. I prepared my daughter as best I could for different reactions she might experience from her friends, particularly from those who had never seen hearing aids before. I left her hair down instead of pulling it back in a ponytail as I normally do. As it turns out, I underestimated this preschool class. When I called the teachers mid-day to see how things were going, they told me that my the whole class was fascinated by my daughter’s new accessories. A couple of the kids in the class even tried to put things in their own ears so they could be like my daughter. I had forgotten how accepting young children usually are. Guess I’ve been spending too much time with grown ups.
Going green can take a lot out of you. Once you start, it’s hard to stop. It’s easy to cut down or eliminate paper towel use or use BPA free baby bottles, but where do you draw the line? I’ve actually been kept awake at night thinking about the number of disposable diapers I throw out, the fact that my child does not have an organic mattress, or how much money I will have to spend before I find a dishwasher or laundry soap that works as well as the non-green versions. Just when I think I have things figured out, a new day brings new information.
Many children’s vitamins and prenatal vitamins contain lead. Out of the 324 vitamins that were tested, only four did not contain lead.
Since I am pregnant and currently taking prenatal vitamins, I immediately contacted a chemistry teacher friend and asked her to explain this chart. Basically, on their own, the vitamins don’t contain large enough quantities of lead to be harmful; you would have to consume massive amounts each day to ingest harmful lead levels. However, it’s the continued exposure that worries me. If there is lead in our water (from the pipes), in food (from the soil), in vitamins, in toys, in who knows what else, it is all adding up. Each individual piece may not contain harmful levels, but grouped together and consumed day after day, the levels add up.
Something else to keep in mind; many foods containing high fructose corn syrup also contain mercury. Despite recent advertising claiming it’s not that bad because it’s made from corn, I’m sure many of us try and avoid high fructose corn syrup. This may be an extra good reason to do so. Here is a great, more detailed blog entry about this.
I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow, nearly two years have passed since my daughter entered this world. She is almost officially a little girl. She drinks from a regular cup, can peel a Clementine, knows her middle name even though we never use it, and actually understands that no matter how good her gummy vitamins taste, medicine is not candy and she can only have it once a day. She orders me around “Mommy, sit in the big chair right now!” and adds a “please” when I ask her how she can say it more nicely. She has friends of her own to invite to parties and on play dates. She knows her letters and can sing entire songs on her own. She can see right through me when I try to trick her into drinking milk by offering it in a juice box and telling her it’s “special juice.” She warns me to “be careful Mommy” when I’m carrying too many bags or the sidewalk is covered in snow and ice. She has preferences for what clothes she wears and wildly protests unsolicited offers of help when putting on her coat, hat or mittens – or anything else. She tells us when she “needs space” or orders us to “walk away” in an effort to use her words when she’s angry or frustrated. She is growing up into a smart beautiful girl full of personality. She can do all of this and yet I still occasionally pine for the tiny little baby who never gave us a full night’s sleep, spit up all over me a dozen times a day, and gave me heartburn every time I had to bathe her alone. Everyone keeps telling me kindergarten, the prom, and college applications are right around the corner. Why can’t I just stay on this block?
My kids’ child care center recently had a parent training on CPR. My two takeaways were that in case of emergency – real or suspected – don’t hesitate before calling 911, and never, under any circumstances, put your fingers in your child’s mouth when you suspect that she’s choking. I was glad to learn these lessons, both of which were somewhat counterintuitive for me. If I suspected my child was choking, I am sure I would be too focused on trying to dig out whatever was stuck in her throat to remember to call 911. Last night, my husband, who had not been at the training, was put to the test.
My 3-year-old daughter removed 6 circular mini-magnets from my son’s bulletin board and promptly swallowed them. Instinctively, as my husband puts it, he picked her up, turned her upside down, and patted her back until they came out. He underplayed the episode, despite my lauding his heroic actions for the rest of the night. He did the right thing to dislodge the magnets, but failed to yell for me to call 911. All in all we took solace in his prompt action and a good outcome and resolved to remember the 911 lesson for next time. Still, it had me wondering if I, even with the training, could have put all the right lessons into action. Friends tell me that my “Mom instinct” would have kicked in and taken over, but still, I’m glad he was the one in the room and not me.
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