Not for the Squeamish: January 2010

To hell and back

Last week, I noticed that a few of my Facebook friends became fans of Babies 'R Us (BRU according to the forums). The link was right there for me to click to become a fan as well...I barely had to move to do it...just click and voila! I would be an official fan.

I didn't click.

But, for a few moments, I thought about it.

After all, I've spent A LOT of both time and money there. Wouldn't that make me a fan? Yet, every time I do, I think about how I hate that place. Seriously? Hate is a pretty strong word, especially for something as trivial as a store.

Let's start with its location. When I was still in my "hell no, I'm never having a child" phase (which lasted 33 years) I hated the presence of BRU. When it moved from being 15 minutes away from me to 30 minutes away, I cheered. After all, I was never going to be in its neighborhood again.

And then I started my journey with the G-man. And dammit, I was pissed that it was no longer serving my area and I had to haul my ass that far just to wander around and be overwhelmed.

That's when I discovered it's a money-suck. Anyone who has ever complained about spending too much, seemingly by accident, at Costco hasn't stepped into BRU. It's impossible to go in there for something as simple as a pacifier and not drop a benjamin. Or two. If Dante had seen this, there would be a new level of hell. The experience is designed to make you think your baby will die (now! right now!) if you don't get this. In two sizes. And three colors. Because why would they carry it if you didn't need it?

Of course all these items fit into your handy plastic purple cart. It's just the cart that doesn't fit in the store! The main aisles are kind of large enough, but two pregnant tummies and two carts is pushing it. But when you get off the main and into clothing and accessories you are trapped. I think that's why I've purchased so much - I've either tried to clear a path back out or so many things got knocked off and stuck to my cart in passing that they all ended up at the register. I'm guessing there are a lot of security videos that show me attempting a seven-point turn to get around a display, vainly trying to reverse out of a sweater dead-end or risking my child's life with a cart tip maneuver to cut a corner.

And get this, they don't open until 9:30. Nine freakin' thirty. Do they know that's like the middle of the day for moms? I've seen the 9:00 parking lot - minivans everywhere, moms mainlining coffee, eyes glued to the door in case they take pity and open early. We finally managed to make it out of the house and there's nowhere to go.

So now maybe you're thinking that if I don't like it, I don't have to shop there.

Ah, but I do.

Or think I do. Good advertising? No, it just turns out the G-man needed a LOT of stuff and they had it. At least, they have something like it. One thing they really do well is understand that moms don't like going to multiple places. The hassle of getting in and out of car seats, in and out of carts, in and out of check-out lines makes even a simple errand a true chore and comparison shopping for price out of the question. So if BRU has something even close to what I want, I'll take it.

If Target had a better baby selection, that would be a no-brainer, but I think its selection gets smaller by the day. The G-man doesn't.

Boutique shops? Boutique prices. And they never have enough boy stuff!

So once every other month or so, I'm back at BRU to sign over my retirement fund and stock up. Is that why I can't be a fan? Because I feel there is no alternative?

Wait, the online alternative! But guess what? I end up shopping BRU.com anyway. Amazon simply has way too much and no one else has near enough to cover the cost of shipping.

But it is more convenient, open when I am and I'm not as tempted to buy little extras that all add up. Plus, I'm safe from the carts there. Maybe I could be a fan of that.

Eeeeeew

Today I saw the G-man eat something he found in his ear. That's right, his ear. And I thought his current fascination with his nose was bad enough.

Your first thought, like mine, might be, "Gross." That may have quickly been followed by, "What could he have found in his ear?" That's what I was thinking. And no, I didn't really get to see it. As I was rocking him for his nap (which, by the way, never happened. grrr...), he stuck his finger in there, rooted around for a bit, and in the few nanoseconds I had before he put it in his mouth, I noticed it was not alone.

Ear wax? Food from his hair that had perched in his ear? Debris from our visit to the park this morning?

I know there are plenty more disgusting things that will find their way into his mouth in the coming years, but I have to wonder if his creativity has peaked with this one.

To sibling or not to sibling?

From the day we announced we were going to have the G-man, people have been asking if we are going to have another. My standard response was that we were going to try to keep the one we already had alive first. Like I could really think about more when G-man was just a few hours old?

But now that we've managed to keep him mostly safe and sound for two years, the question is still looming. But unlike others that always knew they wanted lots of babies or can't wait to see their family grow and be Parents 2.0, our decision is based mostly on the G-man: does he need/want a sibling? We are perfectly happy and complete with one (or as the blogs call him, a singleton), but is he?

Scott and I both have siblings so we can't imagine an accurate picture of growing up as an only child. Is there too much pressure placed on them with having both parents full attention? Are they lonely? Or, are they happy to receive the full force of love, maybe better finances, a room of their own, the back seat all to themselves? This seems like a question for my mom as she was the only apple of my grandparents' eye (which to be honest, we sometimes teased her about. Hmmm...).

I think if I ask people with and without siblings I'll get a wide range of answers, even in the same family. For instance, I tend to think that my appearance in my older brother's life caused such a cataclysmic shift that he never fully recovered and I, in some ways, ruined his life. I feel bad about that. On the other hand, my younger brother's arrival into my life was one of the best things that could have happened to me and the joy I had when he came home from the hospital is one of my fondest childhood memories.

And let's face it, a lot of my best stories growing up are because I had siblings. Good or bad, the experiences made me who I am today and shaped our relationships.

Maybe the answer differs from where you are in the birth order - first, middle, last. Maybe it's a result of whether the new sibling is the same gender. Or how far apart you are in age. Or how close your birthdays are (I'm the day before my older brother, something I don't think worked out so well). Thus, the questions I would have for the G-man are posed to both only children and the oldest child (as those are his two options right now) and just a curiosity into how gender plays into it.

I know lots of you will think about what it's like to be a parent of one vs. more and how your children interact, but that's not on our radar right now. We know his life would change with a sibling, but would it be for good or evil?

Thoughts?

Enter the entourage

According to the books, magazines and parenting articles, most 2 year olds have a lovey. If you're like me and never heard of this term pre-G, if you had a blankie, bear or some other comfort article you were attached to, you had a lovey. Frankly, I still sleep with mine.

Try as I might, the G-man doesn't have a lovey. We've encouraged him to find one in case he needs something like that in times of change or stress, but except for an unnatural affection for thumbs, he comes up empty.

But what he does have is an entourage.

I thought as he got older, the bag I had to carry would shrink. No more 8-pack of diapers, multiple bottles, smorgasbord of baby food jars and emergency foods. If we go to a restaurant and he doesn't eat, fine. I'm not sneaking in a full replacement meal anymore. Pants are dirty? What else is new? No more wardrobe changes that could rival Cher. One "oh crap, you're wet" pair of sweat pants tucked in the bottom of the bag is all we need. One sippy cup with water. A few wipes. Ta-da! Out the door.

Except now I need room for the entourage. Suddenly, it's not a diaper bag, it's a tour bus.

It seems we can't leave the house, or sometimes even the room, without a collection of things he couldn't possibly be without. This is different from the toys/items I pack in the bag for trips to my parents, a visit to a notoriously slow eatery, or waiting at the DMV. These are the additional things he scoops up as we head out the door, whisk him off to bed or simply sit down to dinner.

The members of the entourage change daily but we do have some consistent items in play. Allow me to introduce:

Red Train - This is an engine that came with his train set, along with Green Train, Blue Train, Coal Car and Train Parts (the other box/flat cars). I am rarely allowed to touch it when it's on the track. It frequently travels with its own entourage of two Train Parts.

Neigh/Big Neigh - No, not some mobster horse, just the finest specimen we could find one afternoon in the Target dollar bin. Large, brown and plastic, Big Neigh has recently dined out three times and "sampled" G-man's lunch at IHOP. I should rename him Sticky Neigh.

Book of the Week - G-man gets obsessed with a book often and this is required reading/viewing at all times on demand, whether in the car, at the doctor's or, as it was last week, the judge's courtroom for a friend's adoption hearing. Our current book always within reach is Freight Train.

Gordon Train/Gordon Train Coal Car - Ah, licensed characters at work. From the truly horrible show Thomas and Friends, this engine and its coal car work with G-man's train set and get a lot of play time. This is an engine I'm actually encouraged to play with. I like when Gordon comes along on trips because I can replace him a lot easier than Red, Green or Blue Train if he gets lost.

Race Car Socks - More marketing at work. The G-man received a pair of "Cars" socks in a party goody bag last year. They are too small for him to wear...on his feet. He likes to put them on his hands (a mild victory for me in the Mitten War) or simply carry them around.

School Bus - You guessed it, it's a school bus. A pretty nice one, I might add. Doors open and all that. School Bus is an interesting member of the group as it is the only thing G-man will share with other kids at the library.

Added to these main players are the fill-ins, special-use and wannabes. Concrete Truck is a favorite for the stroller and a must for the bath; a piece of the train track from his table joined us on the walk last week; a small fit was thrown this morning when Tractor (one of many) was not allowed to leave the car to attend class; he went to Parent's Day Out for a month with Lawn Mower Card (greeting card: "Happy Birthday - and many mower." I don't write this stuff.); we dined one evening with two plastic strawberries as guests at the table.

Perhaps one day he'll settle on one (hopefully small, portable and washable) lovey, but for now, he's content to simply take it all with him.

Is your mommy developing on track?

I get countless emails and have many conversations on G-man's development. You know the ones, all about the milestones he should be reaching, how to encourage them and when to raise a red flag. Everything from rolling over to jumping, eating with a spoon to drawing a circle is tracked somewhere and given an acceptable range for completion. We just had his 2-year assessment from Parents As Teachers and of course, he's awesome. But I had to wonder, what would it be like if the Parent Educator asked G-man about his parent's development?

I'm picturing he has materials like this stashed under his crib mattress so he can compare with the other babies/toddlers:

2 days old - Do your parents have a name for you yet? If not, don't worry, 90% of them will before you go home. It's common for you to not like it.

1 week old - Can your parents remember the name they gave you? Many do very well on this while others may revert to what you were called before arriving (eg peanut, bug, bump) or what they think they named you. Don't worry if there is a period of adjustment.

2 months old - Has either parent tried to put you down for a nap? This is an age where many feel their arms should take a break. Don't let them fall into bad habits. Work on a sensitivity to crib sheets.

3 months old - Can your mommy take your temperature? If you're not sure, work up a fever or start thinking about teeth so she can practice. Most should have been freaked out enough to do this by now. This is also an excellent way to ensure she has your pediatrician's number memorized.

6 months old - Have your parents moved you to your own crib/room yet? If not, you may begin encouraging them by rolling around relentlessly or waking at their slightest movement.

8 months old - Does your mommy have any clean clothes or items without baby food stains? Most are covered by 10 months, but if not, you may need to step up your spitting or food launches. A good tactic is to grab the bowl as just she tries to remove it and fling some food out while she wrestles your hand away. Close range is important.

12 months old - Can your parent still make a phone call while holding you? This is a bad habit for them to be in. Practice your own fine motor skills by pushing the buttons while they talk.

15 months old - Does your mommy know the track number of your favorite songs on each CD? Can she anticipate your need to repeat the same songs over and over before you ask?

18 months old - Feeling lonely? Many parents start testing your independence by leaving you alone for a bit to play. This is just a phase - a few well-timed falls or broken items will get them back to your side 24/7 again. Remember, it is your job to develop their all-consuming attachment to you.

20 months old - What happens when you say mommy or daddy? Many, if not all parents will have their hearts melt and fulfill your every wish afterwards.

22 months old - Your parents should have a large supply of toddler foods on hand, including french fries, cereal bars and butter. Choose to eat only these items to encourage repeat buying habits.

24 months old - Can your mommy multi-task? By this time, she should have given up on what she wants for what you want so you can expand your demands to things like making you a smoothie while putting together a puzzle and holding you.

Keep in mind that all parents are not the same and these are simply guidelines for accomplishment. If you feel your mommy is behind or needs extra training, talk to your doctor or ask for a sibling that can help speed up the process.

How do you say "play group" in Italian?

Last year, I wrote about the panic I had taking the G-man to Philadelphia via plane. Turns out, some of it was justified as our return flight was practically a PSA for why toddlers shouldn't be allowed on an aircraft. I also mentioned the sheer volume of items we brought along (we needed a pack mule and a sherpa) to amuse him for the 3.5 hour flight, plus time spent in the airport.

Friends, it's about to get worse. We're traveling again this year, on almost exactly the same dates. This time he'll be 12 months older, but we'll going 12X farther. Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but we really are looking at hauling a 2-year old on a journey where the combined travel time of airport layovers and flights is 20 HOURS. One way.

Alert the media, Interpol and Hillary Clinton: the G-man is invading Europe.

Why are we doing this? Insanity. That is my defense now and will be at any ensuing trials.

The other reason is that my brother - who not only lives in his own universe but has such a shaky grasp on the reality of those around him that he's practically a sociopath - is getting married in Italy.

I knew an overseas wedding was in the works, but I'm still woefully under-prepared. For one, this is a freakin' investment. If the G-man doesn't get to go to college, we might look back on this as the financial turning point. My parents offered to pay part of a trip like this for us a few years ago and we put it off because even part of the cost is more than we were ready to spend. Now we're on the hook with only 9 months to get it together. In 9 months I could give the G-man a sibling and still not spend as much!

Ok, so that's panic #1. I'm pretty much getting over it as I know I don't want to miss this wedding for anything.

Panic #2: Traveling! Yikes. Honestly, part of my brain has not processed this information yet and refuses to think about the scale, and logistics, of this adventure. I'm sure I'll wake up one night soon in a cold sweat as the information finally penetrates my defenses (one of them being how I have the theme song to CHiPs stuck playing in my head) and the planning wheels will start turning. Until then, I have basic issues: what the hell will we do with him on the flights? Can we bring enough toys/supplies/clothing/food for small settlement camp? Do I need to schlep his carseat to Italy? Do I bring his immunization records with me? What he has a huge growth spurt right before we go and looks nothing like his passport?

Finally, there is Panic #3. This isn't really a vacation! He's two. Never would I willingly take a 2-year old to Italy. In reality, it's going to be a pain in the ass. My brother is looking into things like a football match in Rome, sightseeing tours, etc. for everyone that's going. Really? Like we are going to get to do that? Oh sure, I'll try to get G-man to a museum or something but you can be damn sure he won't appreciate it and we'll be so edgy that nothing will register for us. He's not even going to see any humor in the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We're envisioning a nightmare of non-babyproofed places, a schedule that's completely out of whack, no chance for us to enjoy anything and tantrums they'll be able to hear in Greece. What I really need my brother to do is find an Italian Gymboree.

Is this basically a waste of money and time where we can say we've been to Italy but didn't get to experience it? If it wasn't for the travel jet lag, I'd honestly arrive the day before the wedding and leave the day after. (Although I would like to spend oodles of time with my brother.) Instead, we will grin and bear it for almost a week.

No wait, it isn't a waste. There's an excellent reason we are going. This event isn't about us, it's about my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law. Two awesome people I'm quite fond of who will be getting married. MARRIED! And they want to us to share in that moment with them. So cool. It's an honor.

Plus, the stuff they are doing to help organize people's trips and give them a good time is really, really nice. I didn't consult them when I decided to have the G-man and it's not their fault we have a 2-year-old when they want to get married. Contrary to what he may tell you, life does not revolve around my little one.

Oh, and my brother also mentioned having G-man as the ring bearer. In a Yankees uniform. Double cool. I'm guessing that gets vetoed pretty quickly though.

Look for more freak out posts to come as we don't leave until the end of August. Until then, ciao!

The mom of the future

I have a few words for Charles Darwin. If this evolution thing is so awesome, why are moms left so far behind?

There are some things that I think should happen to a mom-to-be along with the pregnancy. After all, our bodies have learned to stretch our skin without full-on breaking, recover from internal injuries due to baby kicks and shave without being able to see our legs. And after the precious bundle arrives, we get to experience a tummy that is longer firmly attached, increased memory loss and whatever the hell else I was going to say.

So Darwin, where is my third arm? How is it we've been schlepping sleeping babies around for thousands of years (hundreds if you're from the state of kansas), yet still have only two? Have you tried to cook a meal without arms? Or open a jar? Or change a diaper while keeping someone else's arms out of the dookie? Being a mom is a full-time, two-armed job even without the kid in them. Add that and you're asking for trouble.

Continuing with the upper appendage theme, what about my super flexible noodle arm? You know, the one I need to flail around the back seat looking for a pacifier while trying to keep my focus on driving? Our bodies should be one part Stretch Armstrong for the first five years after each child is born. This will also come in handy for reaching toys under the oven and rescuing someone from a slide.

Eyes in the back of my head? Why is this just an expression? Nature should be working on that. Just today I turned away briefly to fix a train track and when I turned back, the G-man was standing there with both his pants and diaper around his ankles.

Add to my list super-sonic speed for catching a kid that is diving from a sofa; a body that thrives on 3 hours of sleep; and the ability to make anything requested - like a train, trash truck or lawn mower - appear whenever, wherever. Ok that last one is more along the lines of a superpower and not evolution, but seriously, how handy would it be?

I have a tailbone, spleen and appendix, all of which seem rather superfluous. Is there a place I can go for an exchange?

You're doing it all wrong!

Actual conversation in my house tonight:

Me (talking about G-man): He ate really well today.

Scott: Yeah, lunch and dinner. What about breakfast?

Me: What about breakfast? What did you make him?

Scott: I didn't make him anything. Didn't you?

Me: I wasn't here for breakfast, remember?

Scott: Um, I don't think I made him anything.

Me: You didn't feed him breakfast?!

Scott: Wait, you gave him a [energy] bar before you went to work. Wasn't that breakfast?

Me: No! That was a snack.

Scott: Oh, well, I didn't give him anything else. I guess that was his breakfast.

This was followed up by an observation from Scott that we are turning into my parents. While they did/do their best, being on top of things isn't always high on their list. I have a sneaking suspicion that I really have other siblings, but they were the ones that didn't get picked up from the gas station/church/mall where they were left behind (unlike my remaining two brothers and I that have always been retrieved). Or, they were accidentally left on top of the car as it drove away, stuffed in a drawer with the laundry, passed out as halloween candy. You get the picture.

But this reminded me of something that I consider one of my mommy mantras: the G-man doesn't know if we're doing it all wrong.

Let's face it, he has no idea he missed breakfast or we made a mistake. Other than a slight possibility he was hungry (a stretch for him), nothing was out of the ordinary today.

This is sometimes what keeps me going. Sure, I've made a lot of parenting mistakes, but get this: he doesn't know! He's not keeping score. I don't have to beat myself up for it and can give myself a break when I reflect on what a terrible mom I was that day.

When we're late for playgroup, he has no idea. Ditto if I put him in dirty clothes because the dryer didn't get turned on. Peanut butter on a hot dog bun? Fine with him.

While I lament that he didn't come with an instruction manual, he also didn't arrive with a checklist for what his parents should do. I think that balances it out a bit. No points deducted for forgotten rain boots, skipped pages in a book, lack of parental artistic talent, mismatched socks, soap in his eyes, giant boogers in his nose or shoddily placed diapers.

So to you moms of 2 year olds who missed breakfast with santa because you couldn't get out the door in time, skipped the craft project at the library because it involved glue or simply forgot to change your kid out of the jammies all day, it's ok. They don't know.

Now what will I do when he's older and I don't have this safety net?