Mommy Mania

Baby M has been quite the Mommy's Boy lately. And this is not the typical wanting only Mommy to tuck him in or give him his bath, this is some serious Mommy mania. Every morning Baby M wakes me up by mashing his face into mine. He doesn't bang my head, he simply lines up our foreheads and presses his face towards mine, patiently, with increasing pressure, as if he's trying to somehow merge our molecules together. Next he will lay down on my head, essentially smothering me with love. I tell him that he is hurting me and say that maybe Daddy would like a hug. "No, Mommy" he replies. When I roll out from under him, get out of bed and stumble towards the bathroom he shouts "You forgot to pick me up! and chases after me hanging onto my leg until I relent and pick him up.

I hold him while I prepare our breakfast, while we eat our breakfast, until sometime about 2 hours later when he is ready to be put down. The rest of the day our activities are interrupted frequently with kisses, hugs and more face mashing. When we go to the park he ignores his friends and drags me over to ride his "train" (a train is anything we can both sit on, I have ridden "couch trains", "stair trains" and "slide trains").

Don' t get me wrong, I love all the affection and I know it won't last long. Soon enough Baby M will be shrugging off my hugs, calling me "Mom" and spending all his time with his little skate-punk friends. But the thing is, he is heavy! Going about your day carrying while extra 30 lbs is tiring, no matter how many hugs and kisses you get in return. By the end of the day my arms and back are aching. I have to admit I am looking forward to the "Daddy Phase" and I think my husband is too. He has been feeling a little unappreciated lately.

So there you have it. I am actually complaining about too many toddler kisses. Look for my future posts where I discuss how my waist is too skinny and my wallet is too fat.

Hawaii Baby!

We just got back from our week long trip to the Big Island of Hawaii. Baby M did quite well and I think he is ready for pretty much any trip we might want to do. Of course his favorite part of the trip was staying in the hotel and riding in a minivan, so he probably would have been just as happy in Cleveland, but mom and dad were quite pleased to be in a tropical paradise.

As you may recall, 4 days before leaving on this trip I learned that I had miscarried 11 weeks into my pregnancy. I had a D&C the next day and left for Hawaii with a bottle of antibiotics and strict instructions not to submerge my lower half in any sort of water for a week. That meant no snorkeling, no swimming and no relaxing in the jacuzzi while watching the sun set over the Pacific. Lucky for me the Big Island has lots to do and we kept busy with other activities.

The Big Island is, as the name indicates, big and if there is one thing I regret about our trip it's that we didn't plan out our week better. There are rocky, sandy, sunny, rainy and volcanic sides to the island. Each has interesting sites, but it can take several hours of driving on winding, 2 lane roads to get to the different areas. Our haphazard approach to sightseeing resulted in missing a few places we wanted to see and probably more time in the car than was really necessary. If you're going to try to see the entire island, I would suggest booking a few days on the Kona side and a few on the Hilo side to eliminate some of the driving.

We stayed at Aston Kona By the Sea in Kailua-Kona and shared a 2 bed/2 bath condo with some friends. The condo was reasonably priced and worked well for us. It was large, had a kitchen and laundry in the unit, a balcony overlooking the ocean and its carpet and wicker furniture were very kid friendly. The resort had a pool, jacuzzi and a strip of sand between the pool and the rocky coast. There are not a lot of sandy beaches around Kailua-Kona (mostly rocks) and since Baby M loves digging this strip was a key attraction for us.

A few of our other favorite activities:

Pu'uhonua o Honaunau - a national park and historical site, there are ancient structures and recreations of Hawaiian temples, plus there are huge sea turtles wandering around.

Chocolate Factory Tour - this was a very detailed tour explaining how the chocolate is grown and processed. The grounds are lovely and there are free chocolate samples.

Greenwell Coffee Tour - we went on tours of several coffee plantations and this one was our favorite, but the best tasting coffee was actually at the Mountain Thunder plantation.

Hilton Waikaloa Village - This resort feels a bit like "Las Vegas - Hawaii!!", but it was a nice place to visit with Baby M. There are boats and trains to get around, a dolphin pond, a protected sandy beach, bridges, waterfalls, basically if Baby M could design a hotel this would be it.

Mauna Kea Beach - Best beach on the island. Beautiful, sandy, waves just the right size for Baby M, fancy hotel bar nearby... I couldn't swim but I would have been happy laying on this beach all day.

Kilauea and Volcanoes National Park - Hawaii has an active volcano and if you are lucky you'll be able to see lava flowing into the ocean. We didn't plan ahead and weren't dressed appropriately for the hike down to the coast, and it probably would have been too difficult with Baby M anyway, but we did enjoy the film in the visitor center, walking through the lava tubes and watching the steam rise out of the crater.

One and Done?

Yesterday I had my 3rd miscarriage. Out of 4 pregnancies, we've ended up with 1 baby. A baby I am eternally grateful for and that I feel very lucky to have, but nevertheless we've got a batting average of 25%. Not so hot. Aside from mourning this pregnancy, which involved a significant amount of heartache despite my efforts not to get too attached to it, I've also been questioning how many times I am willing to go through this. It's not like getting pregnant in the first place is easy for us. Conception involves daily temperature readings, precision timing, sperm friendly lubricants and the occasional pharmaceutical. For us the whole process of getting pregnant and then making it through the first 4 months is stressful, emotional and not nearly as much fun as it should be. I jealously watch those couples who get pregnant easily and then happily begin decorating the nursery, never questioning that in 9 months they will be holding a screaming bundle of joy.

Increasingly, or for today at least, the idea of "one and done", is sounding more and more appealing. I can stop piling up outgrown ExerSaucers and bassinets in the garage. Travel, dinners out, concerts are all much more manageable with only one child. Our house is perfectly adequate for 1 child, two and we'd probably need to move. Our sleeping and eating schedules are finally starting to even out. And committing to one child would mean I could toss my copy of Taking Charge of Your Fertility, my binder full of fertility charts and Clomid prescriptions.

People often tell me to relax, stop worrying, just see what happens. And as much as I say we'll play it by ear, the possibility that we'll have another child is always in the back of mind. I keep my eye on real estate listings, I apply to preschools with the expectation that I may have an infant to look after. I keep telling my husband that trip to India needs to be put off a few more years. Two children is written into our financial plan.

Still, I would like Baby M to have a sibling. I think he'd make a great big brother. I think that there is room in our family for one more. But at the same time, everyone has a limit. There is only so much heartache you can take. I know for some people their drive for a child, or a second child, is so strong that they will endure years of fertility treatments and failed pregnancies. I just don't think that kind of dedication is in my constitution. At some point, I will decide I am done. How will I decide? I just don't know.

Page Museum and La Brea Tar Pits

Baby M is going through a dinosaur phase. He has dinosaurs on his pajamas, reads dinosaur books and has become obsessed with the show Dinosaur Train on PBS (combining the two universal toddler passions, trains and dinosaurs. Genius!) So, this week I decided to take him to the Page Museum and La Brea Tar Pits to see some real dinosaurs, or more accurately Ice Age mammals. This was a miscalculation on my part because Woolly Mammoths and Saber Tooth Tigers really don't have much in common with Brontosauruses, but Baby M was happy to be going to the "Dinosaur Museum" all the same.

We've visited Hancock Park and run around the tar pits plenty of times, but had never ventured into the Page Museum. I paid the $7 entrance fee (Baby M, being under 5 was free) and we wandered around looking at the giant skeletons, the animatronic mammoth and the wall of wolf skulls. Most of the exhibits were too complicated for Baby M, but he liked running around shouting "Mommy, look at that!" He also enjoyed walking through the atrium and watching the turtles.

Then we decided to check out the 10 minute movie "Treasures of the La Brea Tar Pits." This was another miscalculation on my part. Most of the film is animated, but it shows, in detail, exactly how all those animals got stuck in the tar pits. A panicked horse, stuck in the tar pit, is pounced upon by a snarling Saber Tooth Tiger. The tiger is soon joined by a pack of wolves, all feasting on the struggling horse. There may have been squirting blood. I can't remember, but it was definitely more violent than I was comfortable with. A few of the predators fall in the pit and the scene ends with their carcasses being picked over by vultures. Baby M seemed more confused than disturbed. "What happened to the horse, Mommy?" he kept asking through the remainder of the movie. Even once we were outside strolling past the tar pits he kept looking for that horse. After repeated explanations from me he finally concluded "the horse got stuck in the water pit," which he reported somberly to his father later that evening. Hopefully he is not scarred for life.

Holiday Dilemma

Once you get married holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas get a little more complicated. For the past 9 years my husband and I have had a predictable system in place for how we spend the Christmas holidays. Odd years with his family, even years with mine. Luckily both of our parents live within a couple of hours of Los Angeles (in opposite directions) so we always get a chance to see both families sometime between Christmas and New Year's Day. The system really just governs where we are on the actual 25th. And when I say the 25th, that also includes the 24th and usually the 26th as well. After Baby M was born we kept the system in place and now each set of grandparents has had the baby over once on Christmas.

Up until now we have not had a Christmas Tree or much at all in the way of holiday decorations. This is partly because we are never home on Christmas, partly because there is really no good place to put a tree in our small house and partly because I am just plain lazy. But now that Baby M is getting older I am starting to feel the urge to put up a tree, bake some cookies and hang stockings. And I want to start our own Christmas Eve and Christmas morning traditions, at our house with our family, ie. the three of us. Keep in mind, I still plan on getting to the grandparent's house by Christmas afternoon and staying over for a few nights. They will absolutely have the chance to shower Baby M with presents and stuff him full of sweets.

My husband, however, thinks this idea is selfish and will offend his parents. And I have to agree, it very well might offend his parents. I think they already wonder why we don't spend more time with them. And maybe it is selfish. I do want my husband and my baby all to myself, to cuddle, to tell stories, to hang stockings and make memories. I want to be the one who tells Baby M that he has to go back to bed if he wants Santa to come and I want to be the first one he wakes up on Christmas morning. And, though it is un-Christmas-like, I don't want to share it. To a certain extent I feel like our parents had their chance to play Santa and now its our turn.

My husband argues that there is no reason we can't establish traditions that involve the grandparents, that we are lucky to have them nearby, that they won't be around forever, that we have "family time" 7 days a week. He says just because I treasure my childhood memories of waking up Christmas morning at my house with my brother and parents doesn't mean that Baby M won't have just as happy memories of waking up at Grandma's house. All good points. My husband is an engineer, frustratingly logical and difficult to argue with.

And so here we are, a few weeks from December and we are still no closer to reaching an agreement. I suppose we could wait another year, my parents already assume that we won't be spending Christmas Eve with them, but then there will be the fact that Baby M spent 2 Christmases with the other set of grandparents and only 1 with them. And that is the kind of thing that might very well offend my parents.

And so, I am reaching out to you, blogosphere, any suggestions? Perhaps someone has a brilliant solution that we haven't thought of. Or maybe you'll say stop worrying about offending your parents and grow up already. Or you could say stop being a greedy Scrooge and let your parents enjoy their grandchild. I'm ready to hear it all. Lay it on me.

Backseat Baby Driver

Last week I was driving my husband and Baby M over to visit a friend who recently gave birth to her second child. We were running late and I was a bit frustrated with my husband, technically the cause of our delay, although he really had no control over the situation. Anyway, a few blocks from our destination I rounded a bend and my husband cried out, "You're driving too fast." Now, I was driving under the speed limit. Was I driving too fast considering he had a steaming hot pan of ratatouille on his lap? Perhaps. But now, whenever I am in the car with Baby M what do I hear? "Mommy, you're driving too fast." Just what I need, a back seat baby driver.

Say what?

The other day a friend dejectedly told me that her 2 year daughter has started saying "Shut Up!" She's embarrassed and fears people will think her home is filled with verbal abuse (it isn't). And I know more than one mom who was surprised and appalled when her toddler whipped out the S-bomb or worse on the playground. It's really amazing some of the phrases kids pick up, even if they only hear them one time. So far Baby M has not said anything truly objectionable (although he does have a tendency to shout "poop" at inopportune times) but I am still bothered by some of the things he does say.

The other day I made a quick stop at the computer to look up an address and Baby M started tugging on my leg and whining "No check your email Mommy." Later, we were getting ready to go to the park. I went into the bathroom to put on some lip gloss and Baby M followed me insisting "No put on make-up Mommy." Email? Make-up? Where did Baby M learn these words? How much time am I spending on the computer and my personal appearance? And is it taking away from time I should be spending with Baby M?

I know that we all need a little "me-time" each day, but I also know that with my laptop always on and sitting on the kitchen counter it is perhaps a little too easy for me to walk by on the way to play with Baby M and say, "Oh, a new email. It will just take a second to read it." And usually it does just take a few seconds to read it, but I wonder if it is also sending Baby M the message that the computer is my priority instead of him. So I have resolved to keep the laptop closed and only check email a few times a day when Baby M is napping or engaged with some other activity. Now, as for the make-up thing, I am pretty certain I am not spending more than a few minutes a day in front on the mirror. If I am am spending an excessive amount of time on my personal appearance I really need to take a class or something, because the results are not that impressive. So for now, Mommy is keeping her lip gloss. Sorry, Baby M, you'll just have to wait.

Happiest Toddler on the Block

A few weeks ago Baby M's frequent tantrums had me at the end of my rope so I decided to check out Harvey Karp's book, The Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful, and Cooperative One- to Four-Year-Old. I just finished reading it and although I don't agree with all of the advice in the book , there are enough helpful tips to make it worthwhile. One of Karp's suggestions helped me get Baby M into my gym's Kids Club so that I could take a yoga class and that hour alone was well worth the time I spent reading the book.

The book is tactical in nature and a quick, although repetitive read. It's broken into 3 sections. In the first section Karp tells us that toddlers are like "cavemen"-- not fully developed, lacking verbal skills and ruled by their emotions. Yeah, I didn't need a book to tell me that. The second section explains Karp's technique for communicating with toddlers using the "Fast Food Rule (FFR)" and "Toddlerese". The last section gives examples of what you can do to encourage good behavior, discourage not so good behavior and stop very bad or dangerous behavior.

First, what I liked about the book: I liked that he reminds us to acknowledge and respect our child's feelings, even in the midst of a tantrum. The FFR basically means that you repeat what your child is feeling, mirroring his emotions, before you communicate what you want him to do. (Just like the guy at McDonald's repeats your order back before he tells you to drive forward and pay him $5.50). This is a technique that I learned back when I was a peer counselor in high school AND college, so you think it would have stuck with me, but I never thought to try it with Baby M. Karp recommends doing the FFR in "Toddlerese" which is speaking in simple, repetitive phrases that toddlers understand even when upset. So you might say to your agitated child "Ball, ball, you want the ball!" before saying "but we have to share with Sam right now." I'm happy to report that the FFR + Toddlerese has been very effective in reducing Baby M's tantrums. Sometimes the tantrum starts anew when I get to the "but", but more than half of the time I'm able to quell the blow up. I also liked his suggestions to "play the boob" (e.g. try to put Baby M's shoes on his hands and allow him to show me the right way to do it), make up stories for teaching good behavior, and to use compromises. Baby M is really into "making deals" right now and we regularly bargain down reading "all the books" to reading two books. Yes, these techniques were already in my bag of tricks, but Karp's book reminded me to dust them off and now I'm using them more frequently.

What I didn't like was Karp's recommendation to excessively praise toddlers as a way of encouraging good behavior. If you follow parenting news, you've probably heard the debate about whether or not we should praise our kids at all, inspired by Alfie Kohn's book and article in the New York Times. I do tend to feel that too much praise is detrimental, but even if I didn't, I think I would balk at Karp's suggestion of saying "good stopping" to a child who had finally stopped pounding the table. Also, as I've written before, I don't agree with time-outs and I don't like the way Karp often framed encounters with our children in terms of a winner and a loser. And some of the tips just aren't practical. I cannot growl at my child, no matter how annoying he is being. In fact in desperation, I did try Karp's "Clap-Growl" to prevent Baby M from dumping a bowl of peas on the floor. My husband looked at me like I was insane, I couldn't keep a straight face and the peas ended up everywhere. But the most annoying thing about the book? Karp's use of baby-talk in his examples. Milky? Crunchies? Mister Towel? Yikes! If I ever start talking like that please whack me in the head.

So, with this book, like most parenting books I read, I'll take what works for us and forget about the rest.

Autry Museum - More fun than you'd think

It's October and here in Los Angeles we are on "Storm Watch." Which means that it's rainy, the freeways are a mess, newscasters are running about in yellow slickers and stay at home moms are desperately seeking indoor activities. Today we spent the morning at the Autry Museum in Griffith Park and I was pleasantly surprised by how much we enjoyed it.

Being neither a fan of Westerns nor horses, I was not expecting much, but today (second Tuesday of the month) was free day at the museum so I decided to give it a try. Most of the museums around Los Angeles have one free day per month and depending on the museum, free day can be a mad house-- lines of school field trippers, hordes of stroller pushing moms, but we lucked out and the museum was relatively quiet.

I'm sure many people have the same impression that I did, that the museum is some sort of tribute to Gene Autry, but in fact the Autry Center "explores the experiences and perceptions of the diverse peoples of the American West." It has exhibits on immigrants, Native Americans, the gold rush, etc. but we focused on the toddler friendly areas, meaning we skipped the photographs of Native Americans and spent an inordinate amount of time trying on cowboy hats. Baby M and his friend Baby K sat on a saddle and while watching themselves superimposed on old westerns, ran around a re-creation of an old west street, looked at classic cowboy toys from the 1950's, sat in a stagecoach and played in a 1930's era replica of a Chinese immigrant family's home. We spent a few hours at the museum, had a snack and then headed home. It's not the kind of place where you'd spend all day (unless your kid really, really likes cowboys), but it was a nice way to get out of the rain for a few hours.

Lake Shrine Temple Garden

Today Baby M and I spent the morning at the Lake Shrine Temple Garden in Pacific Palisades. The 10 acre plot is a spiritual sanctuary with beautiful gardens, waterfalls, a lake, meditation areas, swans, ducks, koi and, somewhat mysteriously, a reproduction of a 16 century Dutch windmill.

I was a little apprehensive about taking Baby M, a boisterous 2 year old, to a place intended for quiet meditation and serenity, but he and his 3 companions behaved very well. Maybe all the inner peace and harmony rubbed off on them. We walked along the shady paths, enjoyed the flowers and fed the swans. Halfway around the lake there is a small shaded landing with a bucket of food for feeding the fish and birds. The kids loved tossing the pellets to the animals while the parents enjoyed the view and some adult conversation. We spent about 2 hours at the site and circled the lake twice (that's at toddler pace, on my own I probably could have done 5 or 6 laps during the same timeframe).

The Lake Shrine was a fun, easy outing. Free parking, free entrance to the garden and free duck food. And, most importantly, Baby M was tired out after running around in the fresh air and took a nice long nap.

Funny Guy

Kids are funny. I think most parents love to entertain, and admittedly sometimes bore, our friends with funny stories about our kids. Try typing "Funny Kid" into YouTube and you will see what I mean. A lot of these anecdotes are based on the unintentionally amusing things our kids say or do. There is the crazy head-banging, rump shaking dance my friend's daughter does every time "Hollaback Girl" comes on the radio. Or there was the time I told my husband that Baby M was gassy and Baby M piped up with "I went to the gas station."

But now Baby M is intentionally trying to make us laugh and it's so fun to watch his developing sense of humor. At first his favorite joke was to call things by the wrong name. "That's a truck," he'd say pointing to a flower and giggling uncontrollably. Then he moved on to throwing things adding "I funny" just in case I didn't get the joke. "No not funny," I'd say in my very best unamused, stern momma voice, which, of course, he just laughed at. Thankfully, that stage is over, but now we are on to poop. Poop is hilarious. It's hilarious to say, it's hilarious to hear. Poop poop poop. "I say poop" he shouts gleefully.

I'm hoping his sense of humor will continue to develop, moving on to slapstick or knock knock jokes or possibly even witty repartee. Still with males you never know. There seem to be plenty of grown men who have not moved past the 2 year old poop phase. In fact plenty of them have successful careers based on poop and fart jokes (See Mike Judge or Mike Meyers).

Potty Training is the New Breastfeeding

Last week I went to my local library's toddler story time. It was packed. Baby M and I were sitting on the floor happily singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" when the woman sitting next to us, just inches away, pulled a little red potty chair out of her bag. She proceeded to pull off her daughter's panties, sit her on the potty and exclaim happily when she produced. Then the woman stood up, lifted the alarmingly full bowl of urine over my head and walked to the bathroom to dispose of it.

Now I know that potty training is difficult process and I understand not wanting to take your child to a public bathroom (although I've been in that library bathroom and it's exceptionally clean), but couldn't she have taken her daughter to the corner of the room? Or at least somewhere where she wouldn't have to navigate a room full of dancing toddlers while carrying a bowl full of pee? Yes, it was probably preferable to a puddle of pee on the floor, but I would have voted for moving away from the crowd, even if it involved a bit of fussing from my kid.

I mentioned this incident to a friend and she laughed and said, "I guess potty training is the new breastfeeding." She has a point. Some of us (including myself) nursed our children whenever they were hungry, wherever we were. I nursed in libraries, restaurants, even on the Wild Animal Park Safari Train without apologies. I was discrete, but I certainly didn't run off to the bathroom or cover myself with a tablecloth when it was time to nurse. Maybe with potty training you just have to whip out the potty when your kid needs it, no matter where you are. Of course what do I know? I've been sitting Baby M on the potty for 2 months now before his bath and when he asks to go (well the one time he asked to go), and we haven't seen a drop in that potty yet.

Sesame Street Coupons

Baby M loves Sesame Street. If we are at home a request to watch Sesame Street will come up, oh every 5 minutes or so. Sometimes it's cheerful, "I watch Sesame Street now? [big grin]" Sometimes it's polite, "Sesame Street...please." But inevitably it becomes whiny and devolves into a full on, head banging, legs flailing, Sesame Street deprivation tantrum. And if we attempt to leave the house, even to go to the park, he immediately begins screaming "Take me back home". What does he want to do at home? Watch Sesame Street. It's not like he doesn't get a good daily dose of Elmo. He gets to watch 30 minutes of Sesame Street after breakfast and 30 minutes again when he wakes up from his nap. Which is plenty, especially considering that the daily recommended amount of television for a not quite 2 year old is zero minutes.

As a solution to the constant tantrums my husband suggested that I make coupons for Baby M to redeem for TV time. When the coupons are gone, the TV stays off. It sounded good. I made up some coupons by cutting out pictures of Big Bird and Elmo and pasting them on index cards. Baby M was very excited about his coupons and by Noon he had cashed them both in. That afternoon, after his nap, he wanted to watch Sesame Street. I explained to him that he had no more coupons left. He grabbed my hand, walked me over to the shelf I had placed his redeemed coupons on says "They're right there, Mommy." Then he proceeded to have a tantrum to get the coupons followed by a tantrum because his eyes were wet from the first tantrum. I think perhaps the terrible twos have arrived a month early.

No Running!

This past weekend we went to a wedding. Baby M was invited and attended in a nice white shirt and some very nice $60 black shoes (where oh where did he get these extra wide feet that only fit in Stride Rite shoes?). After the ceremony and before the reception really got started we were in the ballroom and Baby M was running around like a maniac on the empty dance floor. Add a welding mask and some leg warmers and he'd have been ready for his Flashdance audition. Two little girls came into the room and immediately joined Baby M in all his hyperactive glory. It was cute. The three of them, dressed liked little aristocrats running around like little hooligans. Then the girls mother walks in and says "Girls, no running."

This immediately made me wonder, should Baby M not be running? Am I being a bad parent? We all know it doesn't take much to make me question my parenting. I went through my checklist:

1. Is Baby M endangering himself? No.
2. Is Baby M endangering someone else? Nope.
3. Is Baby M unduly disrupting other people? I looked around the half-empty room. The bride and groom would be taking pictures for at least another 20 minutes and in this pre-intoxicated state no one was getting near the dance floor. In fact, I would argue that the toddlers were pretty good entertainment for the bored couples sitting around the edge of the room.
   

So I said nothing and I let Baby M keep running. I did feel bad for the two little girls who stood despondently by their mother as Baby M ran in circles until he collapsed, happily announcing "I fell down". I'm sure his squeals of delight sounded like taunting to them-- "Neh neh neh neh I get to run." I wondered if I should hold Baby M back for their benefit.

What do you do when your standards of behavior are different from another parent's? Should the stricter parent's standards automatically be adopted? Obviously when you are in someone's home you follow their rules, but what about at a park? or at a wedding? I'm sure the parents with more draconian standards think they have the higher ground, but I'm not so sure. Isn't joyful exuberance one of things we remember fondly from childhood? Is a little noise so bad? Perhaps I am that mom. The one that all the other moms talk about behind her back, the one that they secretly want to give a copy of Dare to Discipline. Or maybe I'm the mom whose kid isn't afraid to express himself, who lives joyfully, who doesn't worry about what others think and who sucks all the marrow out of life. I'd be pretty happy If I'm that mom. But I can't say with any confidence that I'm either of those moms. More likely, I'm just a mom, taking it day by day, trying to do the best I can.

The Food Thing

I openly admit that I am not the healthiest of eaters, but I am hardly the unhealthiest. I buy mostly organic, try to avoid processed foods, rarely have cookies or candy around and am attempting to cook using more whole foods. But, yes, I am still a fan of the Trader Joe's frozen aisle, canned tomatoes and Goldfish Crackers, which brings us to today's topic: friends and food.

The other day I was in the park having lunch with some friends and their children. Baby M was happily munching on his turkey sandwich, melon balls and Goldfish Crackers when I heard my friend say sharply to her daughter, "Where did you get that?" I turned and saw a look of horror on her face and a small orange crakcer, courtesy of Baby M, in her daughter's hand. Thinking the look was of the "oh-my-god-you're-eating-something-off-the-ground" variety I said, "Oh, that's one of Baby M's, she's welcome to have some crackers." Then she looked at me and I realized the look was more of the "what-kind-of-parent-would-serve-this-junk-to-their-child" sort. She gingerly took the cracker away from her child and, using 2 fingers as if the cracker was possibly toxic, handed it back to me saying "No, that's okay."

Now I understand that parents have the right, and responsibility to teach their children about nutrition. And I absolutely sympathize with the parents of children with food allergies and how vigilant they must be about what their child eats. But isn't it just a little rude to imply that I am poisoning my child with a few refined grains? I felt so belittled that I went home and found this article by a dietitian defending Goldfish Crackers. (not that I sent it to her) When we are out and other people are graciously sharing their food I always say thank you and let Baby M have some. One oreo, one potato chip, even one of those weird fruit-like rollup thingys is not going to sicken him. In fact, hopefully, it will help him become an adventurous eater who knows the value of moderation. After all, who wants to live in a world without chocolate, ice cream and Goldfish Crackers?

Hide & Seek

Baby M's new favorite game is Hide & Seek. I am still not sure where he learned it. My best guess is that he picked it up from Sesame Street, you know the one where Rosita gets angry with Zoe for not not playing Hide & Seek correctly and then Cuba Gooding Jr. gets angry with the word angry for wandering off.

Anyway, one afternoon Baby M said to me "Mommy. Hide & seek." I gamely said, "Ok, go count in the kitchen," which to my amazement he did. He counted all the way to 10, pretty impressive for a not quite 2 year old, if I do say so myself. I quickly ran and hid behind the door of his bedroom. Baby M started wandering through the house singing "Maa-meee, Maa-meee." When he finally found me he gave me the biggest grin ever and gleefully shouted "Hide again, Mommy!"

We played a few times. Actually, more than a few times. I would be tempted to say one too many times. Each time he would begin by looking in my previous hiding places. He would check behind the door or in the bathtub and announce, "No Mommy here" and "Not in bathtub" as if going through a little checklist. I love this new game playing phase of Baby M's and am looking forward to afternoons filled with hours of Hide & Seek, Tag and Red Light Green Light. Hours and hours and hours. Hmmm. Well, I am mostly looking forward to it.

Discipline

An acquaintance of mine started putting her daughter in time-outs at 9 months old. I never said anything, but I wondered (a) what could a 9 month old possibly do to earn a time out and (b) did this woman really think she was teaching her child anything useful by parking her in a pack n play for 2 minutes? I know many people swear by time-outs, but I've always felt vaguely uneasy with the concept. Taking a time-out from playing with peers is one thing, but isolating a young child from a parent especially when she is agitated and may not fully understand what she's done to upset that parent just seems cruel. So when a friend mentioned that Alfie Kohn's book, Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason, had some good alternatives to time-outs I decided to check it out of the library.

I really enjoyed the book. The first half catalogs how and why many popular discipline methods fail-- corporeal punishment, time-outs, reward charts and praise. Basically Kohn says that although such techniques may produce obedience in children, they do not help children to become kind, moral, confident or good problem solvers. Additionally such actions may end up eroding our relationships with our children. As he points out, "When you don't explain [why hitting is wrong] the default reason not to hit is that you'll be punished." And even if you do explain to your child why hitting is wrong in addition to punishing him, he is more likely to focus on the consequence to himself as opposed to how he may have hurt someone else. Praise and rewards for good behavior are essentially the other side of the same coin. Behaving well becomes all about self-interest instead of being a good citizen for the sake of others. The book is extensively footnoted and Kohn backs up most of his statements with research studies. Initially I thought his characterization of time-outs as "love withdrawal" was a bit extreme, but by the end of this section of the book he had convinced me that we should try to avoid these popular techniques, or at the very least not use them as our default form of discipline.

The second half of the book discusses what to do instead of time-outs, reward charts, etc. Kohn says we should listen to our children's explanations, give them reasons, give them choices, make compliance a game and, when necessary, exert parental authority with as much kindness and patience as possible. Here I would have really liked some more concrete examples. He did provide a few examples of how to deal with apologies, inappropriate TV shows and a really lovely anecdote about dealing with a child who was potentially going to clobber someone with a rock, but I still feel like more concrete examples would have been helpful. Of course the very nature of this type of discipline is that it is specific to the child and parent involved, so what may be effective and appropriate for one family may not work for another. For me, one of the most useful messages of the book is that we should remember our goals as parents center around teaching our children to be compassionate, thoughtful, confident people. I don't want my child to be the type of person who unquestioningly obeys the most powerful person around, whether that person is me as a parent, the queen bee in high school or an unethical boss at work.

But getting back to practical matters, I'm lucky that Baby M is a pretty good kid and I really don't have too many discipline problems. Other than some bedtime issues and food throwing we are in good shape. Luckily, I have a pretty high tolerance for mess and dog that eats everything. Seriously, how does anyone raise a toddler without a dog around to lick up the mess?

Huntingtion Library & Gardens

Last weekend my parents were in town visiting and we took a trip to the Huntington Library & Botanic Gardens in San Marino. My parents are fond of both plants and books, so I figured they would enjoy the Huntington. I was right.

We started off in the Library Main Exhibition Hall. Although I had spent many hours sitting and journaling in the gardens (I had a bit of an existential crisis back in 1999 when I lived in South Pasadena), I had never been in the actual library. It was really interesting. They have everything from a copy of the Gutenberg Bible to Christopher Isherwood's original manuscripts. We spent close to 2 hours wandering through the rooms, which to be honest, was a little longer than Baby M and I would have liked. My mother is one of those people who reads every plaque at the museum, which ensures we always learn something interesting, but means getting through one gallery can take forever.

After the library we wandered through the sculpture garden, rose garden, Japanese and Chinese gardens. All beautiful. Baby M refused the stroller for most of the visit, so we wandered Family Circus style and at a very leisurely pace. We walked through the conservatory, which houses tropical plants and the Plant Lab. The Plant Lab has interactive experiments focusing on different parts of plants. It was a little too advanced for Baby M, but I think it would be great fun for school age kids. Our final stop and the highlight of the trip was the Children's Garden.

The Children's Garden has pint sized arbors for the kids to run through, a bunch of fountains and misters that the kids can play in, a magnetic sand sculpture, a rainbow room and pebble chimes. The whole family really enjoyed playing in the garden and especially appreciated the misters on a hot Saturday afternoon.

At $20 a person (free entry for Baby M) , this was one of our more expensive adventures. The Huntington does have a Free Day the first Thursday of every month, but you need to call in advance to get tickets. Be sure to call as soon as the box office opens, because they sell out very quickly. The tickets for August sold out in 5 minutes.

Diaper Bags

I am in search of the perfect diaper bag but feel like I might as well be searching for the Holy Grail. I'm looking for a bag that isn't too big or too small, can be carried over the shoulder and convert to a backpack, is fashionable enough to pass a purse, fits over my stroller handles, isn't a "bottomless pit", is easy to clean and doesn't show dirt. Oh, and I don't want it to look like I raided a geisha's closet. Nothing against Chinese silk, but it's just not my style. So is that too much to ask? After searching diaperbags.com, amazon, etsy, and my local stores, the answer seems to be "yes".

For the past 2 years I've been carrying a Baby Kaed Sanya Diaper Bag in black that I got as a shower gift. It has served me well, but after 2 years of daily use it is threadbare and ready to be retired. Now that I've been searching for a new bag I am really starting to appreciate it's design. The main compartment is wide, but not too deep so it's easy to keep track of all your stuff. I kept 3 or 4 diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, a receiving blanket, sippy cup, snacks, first aid kit, hat, sunscreen, bib and some small toys in there and never had trouble finding any of it. There are several other pockets on the outside of the bag that I used to keep wallet, keys, phone and my personal items. I got compliments on the bag all the time and several people mentioned that it didn't look like a diaper bag. On the downside, it doesn't hang well on my stroller, it can be hard to keep on my shoulder when running after Baby M (and he runs fast now!) and the cell phone pocket is too small for my new iPhone.

A few weeks ago I found a SKIP HOP Dash Diaper Bag online for $30 and decided to give it a try. It's okay, but not great. The main problem I have with it is that the zippered pocket, intended for wallet, keys, etc. It is at the top of the inner pocket and as soon as I put my wallet in it it flops over and makes getting into the main compartment very difficult. It also doesn't hold nearly as much as my old bag and since the main pocket is narrow and deep items get lost easily. On the plus side, I like the option of wearing it messenger style and have even converted it to a backpack on occasion, albeit somewhat uncomfortably. The stroller hooks are great and it is something my husband can carry without feeling embarrassed.

So my quest for the perfect bag continues. Perhaps it doesn't exist and I'll just have to get a few bags to meet my needs. But if anyone out there has a bag they really like, let me know.

HappyHappy

On Monday Baby M and I, along with some friends, went to LACMA to check out "HappyHappy." It's part of the "Your Bright Future" exhibition which includes works by 12 contemporary artists from South Korea.

Baby M and I arrived at Hancock Park, home to LACMA, the Page Museum and the La Brea Tar pits, around 10am and were pleasantly surprised to find free parking on 6th Street. LACMA doesn't open until noon, but we were able to explore part of the "HappyHappy" project, a chain length fence with brightly colored plastic objects fastened to it. (Trust me, it looks better than it sounds.) We contributed to the piece by tying on one of Baby M's purple sand shovels. Baby M loved that he was able to touch all of the various bowls, cups and bottles, but was very upset to discover that the toy truck was firmly attached and could not be removed no matter how hard he tugged.

The other part of "HappyHappy", long strings of colorful plastic containers that hang from the ceiling near the museum's BP Grand Entrance, did not open until 11:30am when the museum box office opens. Being able to see but not run through the giant curtain was torture for the kids, but at least we were able to play hide and seek in "Urban Light", a grid made up of hundreds of classic lamp posts, while we waited.

"HappyHappy" part 2 was definitely worth the wait. Baby M and his friends loved running through the suspended bowls, cups and funnels. The guards asked us to make sure the kids did not tug on the strings, but other than that they allowed us to exhuberantly enjoy the exhibit. After running around the patio for a bit we used Baby M's NexGen pass to get into the Broad Contemporary Art Museum for free and took a look at the 10 foot tall "Balloon Dog (Blue)" (exactly what it sounds like) , a giant dollhouse and plenty of other fascinating pieces. Another fun day at LACMA.

Imagination

Baby M is lying face down on the kitchen floor.

Me: What are you doing?

Baby M mumbles something about trains.

Me: Oh, you're a train? What does a train say? Choo choo?

Baby M (sitting up): No Mommy, train tracks

and he lies back down on the floor. At least he is easy to keep track of this way (ha ha).

Bedtime Update

Last time you heard from me I was stealthily rolling across the floor and not so stealthily crashing into the furniture. Baby M has now been in his toddler bed a little over a week and I'm glad to report that things are looking up.

The first few nights were terrible. He'd get out of bed and pound on the door crying "Mommy, Mommy." Our brief foray into sleep training when Baby M was an infant was bad enough, now that he can ask for me by name it is unbearable. We consulted our sleep books and asked friends and family for suggestions. The overwhelming majority recommended that I go into his room periodically, put him back in the bed and then leave again. Do not give in to his demands that "Mommy lie down." In fact, many suggested that I not interact with him at all. Others allowed for a curt "It's time to sleep," and a few were generous enough to tack on a "Mommy loves you." But no way, under any circumstances, was I to remain in the room with him. That would teach him that he needed a crutch to sleep, or that he could manipulate me or some other equally negative lesson.

But here's the thing, we followed the Ferber/Graduated Extinction/Whatever-you-call-it method of checking and leaving and we ended up listening to Baby M cry for nearly 3 hours. All of us felt lousy by the end of the night. But what we discovered was that if I agreed to go sit on the couch, Baby M would patter happily over to his bed and lay down. He no longer demanded that I read him stories while he laid there. He didn't throw his blankets on the floor and cry for me to bring them back and he didn't need me to hold his hand. He just rolled over and was asleep in 20 minutes. So our new routine is to read him a story, put him to bed and then sit on the couch for the 20 minutes it takes for him to fall asleep.

And, really, what is so bad about that? So I spend 20 or 30 minutes sitting in a darkened room, reading, meditating, or just zoning out. How exactly is this detrimental to Baby M? Maybe he is trying to see if he can control me, or maybe he is afraid of the dark or maybe he just needs some extra affection right now.

Sometimes it is good just to sit. One of the overlooked benefits of children is that they force us to slow down and appreciate the moment. To stop and notice the leaf that looks like a butterfly, the jolt of surprise when a bubble pops on your cheek and the wonder of sitting quietly and watching your child sleep.

Battle of the Bed

When I was pregnant my mother-in-law loved to tell me that, when my husband was small, she would hold his hand every night until he fell asleep, crawl out of his room and then crawl back in in the early morning. I would smile at her wanly and think smugly to myself that will never be me. Little did I know... Last week I literally rolled across my son's squeaky hardwood floor in attempt to get out of his room without waking him up. I was doing well until I banged my head on the changing table, toppling over lotions, waking Baby M and adding another 20 minutes on to our bedtime "routine."

Baby M has never been a good napper, but until a few weeks ago he has always gone down at night pretty well. For the past 6 months it's been bath, book, bed-- and my husband and I were free for the next 11 hours. Now, for some unknown reason, Baby M panics as soon as we start to leave the room. "Mommy lie down," he cries pointing at the small couch we keep in his room. If we go he becomes hysterical and ever since the crib diving incident, we refuse to leave him alone when he gets like that. So for the past few weeks my husband or I have been sitting in his room with him until he falls asleep and then sneaking out, sometimes more successfully than others. Somehow, the kid who can sleep through an American Idol concert at the Staples Center, wakes at the sound of one squeaky floorboard.

In an attempt to get out of this new bedtime routine, which can take up to 2 hours, we decided to get Baby M a toddler bed. I know this may seem counter intuitive, but our thinking was that (a) maybe he will be so excited to have a new bed he'll stay in it and go to sleep and (b) if he does jump out, at least we don't have to worry about him cracking his head open. We set up the bed, talked about how great it was to have a big boy bed and hoped for the best. Sad to say, the best did not happen. Somehow, my husband ended up sitting in the dark for 2 hours while Baby M brought every toy in his room into bed with him. And where was I at 2AM? Lying on the floor, next to the bed, holding Baby M's hand. It must be in the genes.

UCLA Language Lab

You may recall that Baby M and I participated in several UCLA Baby Lab studies. Now that Baby M is getting older we haven't gotten many calls from the Baby Lab lately, but last week we did get a call from the UCLA Language Lab asking if Baby M would like to participate in a study about language acquisition. I said, "Sure."

So this morning we drove over to UCLA where a nice undergraduate student met us at the parking structure and escorted us to the Language Lab. It was very similar to the Baby Lab; there were some toys for Baby M to play with, friendly research assistants and the same eye tracking software. Additionally, there was the "castle", a small room with sound and video monitoring equipment decorated to look like a tower in a fairy tale. We entered the castle along with the researcher where there was a computer screen set up. Baby M was shown some cartoon images along with corresponding sound and then asked to repeat what he heard. We viewed a picture of a man swimming and heard a voice say "He swims fast." Later the picture came up again with the phrase "There he swims." Initially Baby M was too shy to say anything, but eventually the researcher did get a few words out of him. As a thank you for participating Baby M got to choose a gift out of the "treasure chest." He picked a small white ball with the Language Lab logo printed on it.

The goal of the study is to understand how young children learn and respond to grammatical sentences. The researcher said Baby M's performance was pretty typical. About 50% of the children in his age range don't say anything at all and those that do are more likely to repeat the verb if it comes at the end of the sentence as opposed to the middle. Language acquisition is such an interesting process, and one that, as the mother of a relatively late-talker, I am particularly interested in. I'd happily participate in additional Language Lab studies.

Trains! Trains! Trains!

So Baby M has developed something of a train fetish. Even as an infant he enjoyed reading (and chewing) his copy of The Little Engine That Could and then for Christmas last year he got the Fisher-Price Amazing Animals Sing and Go Choo-Choo, a 2 foot long, singing, motorized train. I admittedly fueled his obsession by seeking out train related books at the library like And the Train Goes... and Chugga Chugga Choo Choo. I have been careful to avoid the Thomas the Tank Engine franchise. I don't have anything against talking trains, but I don't like the idea of getting sucked in to purchasing $20 train cars every time we go to the toy store.

Baby M took his first train ride a few weeks ago when we visited my brother in Portland. We rode the train at the Flower Farmer farm just outside the city. He was so excited. The minute we sat down he started shouting "Choo Choo!". The train runs around the farm and stops at a small petting zoo where Baby M got out, fed the chickens and was nearly knocked over by the goats. When we re-boarded the train he got to ride in the "boose" (caboose) with his Daddy.

This past weekend we decided to take Baby M to Travel Town in Griffith Park. This would have been a fabulous idea if it wasn't the hottest weekend of the summer. Oh. My. God. I totally forgot how much warmer it is on the eastside of town. We arrived when Travel Town opened at 10am. The exhibits and museum are free and train rides are $2.50 each. Baby M loved the fact that he got his own ticket to give to the conductor when we boarded. We rode the train, climbed on the full size train cars, watched the model trains run and toured gift shop (the only air conditioned building and it was getting pretty crowded in there). We had planned to stop by the Live Steamers Railroad Museum which is adjacent to Travel Town and only open on Sundays for more train rides, but by the time we were done with Travel Town I honestly thought I would faint or melt if I had to spend anymore time in the sun. I hear really good things about Steamers, so we'll try to go again when the weather is a little cooler, assuming Baby M hasn't moved on to another form of transportation. He has been enamored of airplanes ever since we flew home from Portland. Lucky for me LAX and the Santa Monica airport are on the Westside where we can watch the planes land and feel the cool ocean breeze on our faces.

Summer Sounds at the Hollywood Bowl

Summertime in Los Angeles wouldn't be complete without an evening at the Hollywood Bowl. Sitting out under the stars in the warm night air, with great music, good wine and good friends is the perfect way to spend a summer night. It turns out, the Bowl is also a great place to spend a summer morning.

Today Baby M and I attended one of the SummerSounds concerts for kids at the Bowl and had a wonderful time. Every summer the Bowl puts on a music festival and fine arts workshop specifically geared for kids ages 3 to 9. This year the series is organized around "Ethnic Los Angleles" and highlights the music and art from 3 different neighborhoods-- Brazil on the Westside, Mexico in East Los Angeles, and Little India in Artesia. Tickets are only $7 for the music perfomance and $5 for the art workshop. Parking is free. The concerts are held on the shaded patio next to the Hollywood Bowl museum.

Today's program was "Brazil on the Westside." It followed the adventures of Hip Hop Loving Shammy Dee as he ventured out of his neighborhood and learned about Brazilian music, dance and Carnaval from his new friends. There was lots of dancing, drumming and singing. The performers really tried to engage the kids: asking them to shout out "Peace", teaching them to pop and lock and a little bit of the Samba. My favorite part of the performance was when the drum line came parading through the crowd, mallets thumping and whistles blowing. For a moment I felt like I was at an Ozomatli concert.

Baby M is not quite 2, but he still really enjoyed the music performance. He's not one of those kids who claps and dances, but he watched everything with this focused intensity. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually did learn to Samba! We skipped the art project, which has a minimum age of 3. We are looking forward to attending another SummerSounds concert soon.

Trash Truck Day

This past weekend we attended the West LA Bureau of Sanitation Open House. My husband didn't understand why I wanted to go this event, but once we got there both he and Baby M had a blast. There were several trash trucks and street sweepers on display and kids could work the controls (with assistance from the employees), sit in the trucks, honk the horns and even go for a ride in one of the smaller trucks. Baby M liked working the controls at the back of the truck, but he got a little scared when he was sitting in the truck and the arm started lifting. It was noisy and the truck shook. I think next year when he is a little older he will LOVE it.

The truck yard on Stoner Ave was crawling with toddlers-- chasing the sassy blue recylcing bin robot, eating free hot dogs, dancing to the oldies and just having a great time. Baby M especially loved the miniature blue trash bin he won playing bean bag toss. He even slept with it. (Along with a stuffed Elmo, stuffed Santa, a fire truck, a dump truck and 2 blankets. The crib is getting a little crowded.) This was a great event and it is so nice of the city to sponsor it and for the employees to volunteer their time. We are already looking forward to next year; every morning Baby M looks at me and says "Trash Truck Day?" He can't wait.

Happy or Good?

I just finished reading Richard Weissbourd's book The Parents We Mean To Be: How Well-Intentioned Adults Undermine Children's Moral and Emotional Development. Despite the rather didactic title, I found the book thoughtfully written and full of valuable insights.

To be quite honest, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of raising a moral child. Yes he is not quite two yet so I haven't had many challenges with regard to morals, but once becoming a parent I did become very aware that Baby M is watching me to learn how to treat other people. And I think becoming a parent made me into a better person. Overnight I became the guardian to the elderly. I help them locate lost cars in the Target parking lot. I assist them down steep inclines after painstakingly following a sidewalk leading to nowhere (I'm looking at you Marina Del Rey Barnes & Noble!) At any rate, I was not expecting to see myself in any of the well-intentioned, but achievement crazed, sports obsessed, Dimpies (Doting Indulgent Modern Parents) described in the book. So I was surprised when I started questioning my parenting philosophy only two chapters in.

Weissbourd describes a study in which children were asked to rank the importance of being happy, being "a good person who cares about others", achieving at a high level and having a high-status career. Two-thirds of the children ranked happiness above being good and the same number predicted that their parents would also value their happiness over goodness. This is not terribly surprising, after all, as parents don't we always say, "I just want him to be happy"? It never occurs to me to say "I just want him to be good." To see if I was alone in this view I asked my husband, "Would you rather Baby M be sad and good or happy and evil?" After a moment my husband answered "happy and evil." Shocked, I probed a little further and determined that we had different definitions of "evil." I was picturing Hitler and he was picturing... well something less than Hitler. Of course, we both agreed that we want Baby M to be happy and good and that the question I had posed was unfair. Still it bothered me that this question of happiness and goodness was so difficult to answer for us.

In general I have a "say yes" parenting philosophy. I figure that there are so many things that Baby M will want that I must say no to-- playing with that electrical outlet, eating the delicious looking rat poison, riding in the front seat of the car-- that when he wants something that I can say yes to, even if it is inconvenient, I should try to make it happen. I stay an extra 5 minutes at the park. I let him pull all the CD's off the shelf. And even after reading this book I don't think that we should deny our children simply so that they can experience disappointment nor do I think this is what Weissbourd is implying. However I have to wonder what message I am sending if Baby M sees me repeatedly making sacrifices for his fleeting happiness. Is this showing him that I value his thoughts and feelings or is it showing him that I value his feelings to the detriment of my own? Am I inadvertently sending him the message that he should pursue his own happiness at that expense of others?

This book raised many interesting questions that I could go on about, but my number one reader has no patience for long blog posts. In fact, I think he'd prefer these updates in 140 character bursts. So instead I will just suggest you read the book and let me know what you think.

Feeling Lazy

So yesterday while aimlessly surfing the web and wondering why I wasn't doing something more productive I came across this interview with Mayim Bialik. You probably remember her as Blossom from the early 90's TV of the same name or maybe you saw her as the young Bette Midler in Beaches. Anyway, Blossom has ditched her pal Six and the floppy hats and is now a baby-wearing, home-birthing, granola-making mother of two. Just reading about her life tires me out.

Not only does she cook vegan and kosher meals for her family. She nurses her children until they self wean (the older one weaned around age 2), makes her own shampoo and practices elimination communication. If you're not familiar, EC is a technique where you watch your infant for signs that he needs to go the bathroom. Then you hold him over the toilet. She has been holding her son over the toilet 10 times a day since he was 2 days old! Oh and she also auditions and does some grant review work in her spare time.

Mothers like Mayim Bialik are amazing, and I admire them, but I'm starting to feel a bit like Peg Bundy. When Baby M was an infant, opening a can of soup was about all I could manage and even now we eat a little too frequently from Trader Joe's freezer aisle. I took a stab at potty training, but am too impatient, or selfish or lazy to sit next to him on the potty 3 times a day. Other moms in the neighborhood seem to have vaccination schedules memorized, their kids in multiple toddler programs and are already calculating their LAUSD "points" for getting into the kindergarten of their choice.

Not only do I find the logistics of managing all these tasks unwieldy, I also find them kind of unnecessary. My doctor knows the vaccination schedule and I trust her judgement. Baby M is happy going to the park and the occasional Moo Moo Musica class, does he really need a structured program at 20 months old? Why should I spend hours figuring out the labyrinthine LA Unified system when my local school is perfectly fine and within walking distance? Besides, if I was cooking and researching and sitting next to the potty all day how would I ever find time to keep up to date on the cast of Blossom?

Headless

Baby M woke up bawling today around 5:30 am. I went in to check on him and found him standing with his pajama top up over his head, gesturing wildly and pointing to where his head should have been. It was so cute that I didn't even mind waking up an hour early.

Crib Diver

Well the thing I've been fearing finally happened. Baby M jumped out of his crib. Maybe he climbed out. Maybe he fell. Whatever he did, it make a tremendous THUD when he landed on our hardwood floors and scared me half to death. Baby M was a bit rattled, but other than that he escaped unscathed.

I completely blame myself for this tumble. As you may recall, Baby M has been taking his nap in the car or stroller ever since I weaned him 4 months ago. The nap situation has been more or less working for us, but I think he'll be more comfortable in his crib and it is a bit inconvenient to have to drive or walk around for 20 minutes or more at naptime. So this last week I made a concerted effort to get him napping in his crib. Each day I took him for a walk or drive just before naptime in order to get him sleepy and then brought him inside, read a story and put him in the crib for his nap. He cried, but remained laying down and would generally fall asleep within 10 minutes.

On Saturday I continued with the process, but a few things mucked it up. First off Baby M was playing in the backyard with his dad and was not too keen on going on a walk. Secondly, the walk, when it finally happened, just wasn't as sleep inducing as it normally is. Lastly, Baby M cried for more than 10 minutes. Remembering our old sleep training books (but forgetting our old sleep training experiences) my husband and I decided to go in and comfort Baby M by telling him we were still here, that he needed to lay down and we'd play with him after his nap. When we left he was screaming and looked like an angry tomato. A few seconds later we heard the THUD. I should have known that going in the room would only increase his desire to get out of the crib and that after so much screaming the nap was just not going to happen. I knew there was a reason I never felt right about sleep training.

So now we are back to napping in the car, picking up a crib tent and shopping for toddler beds on Craigslist. Oddly enough, by car-hating husband seems intent on getting Baby M a race car bed. Must be some unfulfilled wish from his childhood fueld by too many episodes of Silver Spoons.

None of the Above

Baby M is nearly 20 months old and has definite ideas about nearly everything-- how and when to eat, what book to read, which form of transportation to use, what to wear, etc. Every book I've read about toddlers suggests that the key to a happy child is offering him a choice. "Do you want to wear the red bib or the blue bib?" "Shall we take the stroller or walk?" The idea is that by allowing him a choice you give the toddler some control over the situation. He feels empowered and doesn't throw a tantrum. This all sounds good in theory and I've actually seen other moms employ the technique successfully on the playground. Tantrums have been avoided simply by saying, "Oh look, you can play with the green shovel or the fire truck, which do you want?"

Baby M, however, is too smart to fall for this ploy. When I ask him if he would like peas or broccoli he twists around in the high chair and points to the refrigerator shouting "Toast! Toast!" If I say "Let's pick a bib to wear," he wails "Noooo!" He has already learned that just because something isn't displayed doesn't mean it's not available.

It's nice to know that he is going to be an independent thinker and not feel compelled to accept what he is offered. On the other hand, I am really worried about how terrible those terrible twos are going to be. So far Baby M's tantrums have been manageable. We have a few outbursts each day, but the number of kicking and screaming, out-of-control eruptions has been minimal and I'm hoping to keep it that way. Since the whole "choice" strategy isn't working, I'd love to hear other suggestions for avoiding toddler tantrums.

Baby Scientist

Today Baby M was sitting on the floor with some crayons, a pencil and a ball point pen. He was doing a pretty good job of confining his scribbles to the giant pad of paper from Michael's until a particularly energetic scrawl with the pen went careening off the paper and onto Baby M's shin. Baby M stopped and stared at the blue ink on his leg. He rubbed it. He furrowed his brow. Then he picked up the blue crayon and tried to write on his leg. Apparently his hypothesis was that anything blue could write on skin. When the crayon didn't leave a mark on his right leg, he tried writing on his left. Then he picked up the pencil and tried the experiment again. I love watching Baby M learn about his environment. It's really amazing to see the way he figures things out. I mean, really, how do you know that the skin on your right leg is going to act exactly the same as the skin on your left? Then he grabbed the pen again and I could see where his investigation was headed, so I quickly traded him a silver crayon for the pen and averted a potential disaster. I do love watching Baby M learn about the world, but I'm not quite ready for him to be on an episode of LA Ink.

Baby on a Plane

Last week we took a trip to Ann Arbor, Michigan to visit some dear friends and meet their 15 month old, Baby Z. We had a wonderful time; went to the Hands On Museum, hung out at Allmendinger Park, explored the Natural History Museum. We even got to have a night out at the Ark watching Chelsea Williams. When it was time to leave Baby M gave Baby Z a hug and a kiss, stole his cup of Cheerios and we were on our way.

This trip wasn't Baby M's first time on a plane. Nine months ago we took a short flight up the coast to attend my brother's wedding in Northern California. But this was his first long flight and the first flight where I didn't have the option of sticking a boob in his face to calm him down. The flight to Michigan was long, oversold and we ended up sitting for a hour on the tarmac while the crew fixed a mechanical problem. Baby M did well, although the woman in the seat in front of us did not appreciate his fascination with the fold out tray. The flight home was also oversold and Baby M was grouchy from the get go. He was flying as a "lap child" but didn't want to sit with me or my husband. He wanted to crawl around on the floor under the seats, which, as a flight attendant helpfully announced over the intercom, is unsafe. To keep him quiet we plied him with snacks-- everything from my husband's Taco Bell nachos to Annie's Bunny Grahams. About two hours into the 4 and a half hour flight Baby M barfed all over my husband. Thankfully, he missed splashing our row mate and the passengers in the row behind us, but it was still pretty unpleasant for anyone within 15 feet of us.

I must commend my husband's courage as he remained calm and still as Baby M hurled repeatedly onto his chest and shoulder. My husband does not like to be dirty and I was honestly surprised that he did not throw Baby M into my lap at the first sign of spittle. Once the gagging subsided, he took Baby M into the bathroom to get him washed up while I did my best to clean the seat with a receiving blanket and the paper towels and cup of water (with ice!?!) that the flight attendant brought me. Once the seat was as good as it was going to get, I joined the boys in the teeny-tiny airplane lavatory to assess the damage. Baby M, glad to be someplace other than row 15, was in surprisingly good spirits. We got him changed and washed up. My husband's shirt was a lost cause. We shoved it down the lavatory trash chute and I brought him another shirt from his bag. Luckily all of our luggage was carry on (we are efficient packers and too cheap to pay the checked baggage fee). I always carry a spare outfit for Baby M in my diaper bag, but we never would have thought to bring a spare outfit for Daddy. Even with this somewhat sour ending, our trip to Ann Arbor was great and we learned a few tips for our next airplane ride with Baby M (mainly Taco Bell and babies don't mix).