New Parent: Trials & Tribulations of the First Born

Checking In

2009-06-24T15:19:00.004-04:00

As we draw closer to Penny's third birthday we thought we check in with how we're doing on our New Year's resolutions this year. We promise a separate post on how we're doing on the whole three-year-old thing, but that's a totally different post!

So, how are we doing? The resolution is in bold and our progress listed next to it:

10. Write more blog entries. Um. FAIL on this one. We'll do better. Really. We promise.

9. If at all possible, and especially if traveling with children, avoid flying the “big six” legacy air carriers. Check. We flew JetBlue for our recent outing to San Francisco. Extra leg room. Good customer service. Free drinks and snacks. Ahhhh.....

8. Stop and play. We're actually doing pretty well with this one. It's fun, now that Penny is developing a good imagination. Her favorite game: going to the Milk Store. We're apparently grooming a discriminating consumer.

7. Start getting more serious about the potty training thing. Done. Haven't changed a diaper in months! WooHoo!

6. Put away the baby toys and get a play kitchen. Also done. Besides playing milk store, Penny likes to make us dinner and snacks. If only her real diet was as varied as her plastic toy diet...(see below!)

5. Think about transitioning to the toddler bed. Not only is she in her toddler bed, she's growing so fast we're starting to think of moving her to a real, full-on big girl bed. Special shout-out here to Freecycle. We got her toddler bed for free from a listserv that gives people the opportunity to give away stuff they don't need to neighbors who do.

4. Lose weight. Done and done. Both mom and dad are in fightin' trim. Except for that occasional trip to the pancake house, that is.

3. Mini Cooper to minivan? The old mini van is alive and kickin' , dwarfing the Cooper in the driveway. The van is extremely useful for hauling large numbers of people and, of course, mulch. Apologies to the passengers for making them arrive at the destination smelling like mulch. You know who you are.

2. Penny ate part of a turkey sandwich the other day. Maybe time to start trying other foods again, like, for instance, fruits and vegetables? Um...do plastic fruits and veggies count? (see above)

1. File away 2.5 years of new parent experience for potential future use… Filed. Along with those baby toys now inhabiting the attic.

More Drive Thrus, Please

2009-02-20T17:07:00.006-05:00

Hey there parents! We want to hear from you. Why do you really go to McDonalds?
Is it because of the low prices?
Maybe.
The free toys?
No! I don’t want another cheap piece of plastic under foot.
The high-quality cuisine?
Yeah, right.

We go because they have a drive thru. Let’s be honest; how often have you not stopped at a store, skipped an errand, or waited to go to the bathroom because it would have required stopping the car, unbuckling the child—or worse—schlepping the infant seat in and out of your vehicle?

So, as parents, we have a simple plea: more drive thrus please!

As a child in California, I remember stopping at the Alta Dena dairy on the way home from ballet practice. My mother drove up to the little kiosk, paid for a half-gallon of milk, and kept on driving. Now, you could argue that Los Angeles has a car-oriented culture, but why has this not caught on?

Imagine…you’re running a little bit late; it’s your spouse’s birthday. You’re not celebrating until the weekend, but you should still have a card to present at dinner. You zip through the CVS drive thru: “Yes, I’d like a card for my spouse. Mmm hmmm. We’ve been married for a while. Something with a bit of humor and perhaps a slightly naughty innuendo. Great. Perfect.”

Or even better, what if Target had a drive thru?
“I need some size four Pull Ups, Goldfish crackers, Dawn detergent, a 5”x8” brown picture frame, and are there any DVDs you’d recommend?” Imagine the jobs this would create! Multiple Target employees helping customers complete pesky errands…without having to leave the car.

Change

2009-01-30T08:25:00.015-05:00

We heard a lot about change last year, and as you know, we typically reserve this blog for stories and images of our first born. However, a funny thing happened earlier this week. We were getting ready for work/daycare, and Penny walked over to the Time magazine sitting on our coffee table and said, "Look Daddy. 'Rack Obama."

Penny spent last Tuesday, Inauguration Day, with Grandma and Grandpa while Mom and Dad made their way down to the National Mall to join the 1.8 million spectators. It turns out that Grandma frequently explained to Penny (as you do with toddlers) that Mommy and Daddy went to see the president. She started looking for us on TV.

So here are a few photos from our experience at the 56th Inauguration of the first African-American president, 'Rack Obama.

Oh, and by the way, Penny wore big girl underwear to daycare today. Change is coming!

Photos in order:

1. Getting there by bus, train, then foot. (We had to walk home, over the Roosevelt Bridge.)

2. Watching the oath on the big TV.

3. Immediately after the oath.

4. Checking out the crowd: Lincoln Memorial.

5. Checking out the crowd: Washington Memorial.

6. Checking out the crowd: Capitol Building.

Resolutions

2009-01-07T10:32:00.009-05:00

With it being the New Year and all, we decided to offer up ten parental resolutions. Some are a bit flippant, others serious. But we feel this is the crux of our message and our greeting to you for the New Year: keep things manageable—who could really keep TEN resolutions—and try not to take anything too seriously.

10. Write more blog entries. Sorry, this one is obvious, but important to list nonetheless.

9. If at all possible, and especially if traveling with children, avoid flying the “big six” legacy air carriers. For our recent trip to Los Angeles to visit the family for Christmas and New Year, we flew U.S. Airways out (boo!) and Alaska Airlines home (yeah!) Not only did Alaska not charge for the first checked bag (unlike that other carrier), they insisted that children board the airplane first, gave free drinks, and offered mini-DVD players on board for a reasonable rental fee. They recycle cans and cups and use napkins made with 95% recycled content. (We’re actually writing this on the plane. Penny fell asleep during take-off.)

8. Stop and play. If we believe everything that family members tell us, Penny will be a teenager in about a blink of an eye. When she wants to play, put down what you were doing and go ahead. When she wants to be held, try to as much as possible.

7. Start getting more serious about the potty training thing. Except for the obvious issues of smell, cost, and space in landfills, diapers have serious advantages. But it’s time. We’re buying an equal number of pull-ups when we get home.

6. Put away the baby toys and get a play kitchen. This one probably really belongs on a to-do list.

5. Think about transitioning to the toddler bed. The only potential drawback is Penny moves around A LOT in her sleep. At Thanksgiving she rolled off an inflatable bed a number of times; yep, found her face down on the floor but still asleep. Apparently she gets this from her father.

4. Lose weight. We don’t want anyone saying, “There goes Penny with those fat parents.” (Does anyone get the movie reference? Hint, the line is delivered by Alec Baldwin.)

3. Mini Cooper to minivan? When Grandmom and Grandpa purchased a new minivan last year, they bestowed their old minivan on us. We’re not used to driving it or having two cars in the driveway; but it’s free, has a tad more cargo space than the Mini, and we are grateful.

2. Penny ate part of a turkey sandwich the other day. Maybe time to start trying other foods again, like, for instance, fruits and vegetables?

1. File away 2.5 years of new parent experience for potential future use…

O Potty! My Potty!

2008-10-02T15:49:00.003-04:00

A few weeks ago Penny graduated to the “Trainers” class at school. This has been a big change in our lives. No longer does she co-exist with the babies in the nursery building and her fellow toddlers, but she is in the “big kid” building with children as old as five!

The other obvious and more significant change is that she has begun potty training at school. We have a potty already, and we have been reading a few books, watching a few videos. (The first video we viewed warrants a blog entry all its own.) But, these new parents wonder, maybe our little toddler might be more interested in potty training if the literature were more compelling…more riveting…like this?

O Potty! my Potty! our fearful sit is done;
The parents encouraged every trip, the prize we sought is won;
The stars and stickers I covet, the parents all exulting,
While follow eyes the daily trips, the vessel grim and daunting:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the tinkling drops of yellow,
Where on the floor my potty lies,
Waiting cold and shallow.

O Potty! my Potty! it sits beneath the paper;
Rise up—grab four little squares—and take no more later;
For you treats and toys a plenty—for you the bathroom crowding;
For you they call, the parents plead, their eager faces turning;
Here Potty! dear potty!
This bum atop your head;
It is some dream that on this spot,
I sometimes fear to tread.

My Potty does not answer, its lid plastic and still;
My potty does not feel my bum, it has no pulse nor will;
The bathroom feels safe and sound, its door closed and done;
From fearful trip, to now I sit, waiting for an object won;
Exult, O mom, and ring, O dad!
But I, with lesser dread,
Walk the to the place my potty lies,
Waiting for me instead.

(With sincere apologies to Walt Whitman).

Tricks of the Trade

2008-09-03T17:13:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, we were chatting with a friend who has recently become a new parent, again. He was sharing with us the things he was doing differently this time, such as, using room-temperature water for mixing bottles, so they do not have to be warmed during middle-of-the-night feedings.

This got us thinking, should we decide to commit to number two, what would we do differently as new parents?

Assuming this child has fewer ear infections, work on the sleep training a bit earlier. (Okay, doable.)
Transition from nursing to bottle and bottle to cup more gradually. (Definitely noted.)
Take the child’s eating habits less personally. (Should do this now.)
Start a blog for this child, as well. (Yeah right!)

But most importantly, read every word of every book before purchasing and giving to child!

Because, inevitably, the child will not choose as her favorite bedtime book the one with simple lyrical beauty like Goodnight Moon—“goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere”—or a delightful plot such as Bread and Jam for Frances. No…she will choose a touristy abomination that poses for a piece of prose, such as Goodnight Washington, DC.

“Good morning babies at the national zoo, are you ready for a wonderful day…? Good afternoon lawmakers, making rules for the country. Good afternoon Justices, deciding what is fair….Let’s have a picnic on the National Mall! Isn’t the Washington monument tall?”

So next time, we’ll remember some of these lessons’ learned. In fact, someday soon, Goodnight Washington, DC, may have to go away…to a nice farm…where it will get to play with lots of other pieces of bad literature.

A Two-Year-Old Clothes Horse

2008-06-30T10:58:00.009-04:00

We’re finding that Penny has found a way to magically expand the size of her wardrobe. For instance, this morning we put on her green pants. She found she didn’t like them, so instead decided to wear her Whiny Pants.

It turns out that she has many different pairs of pants at her disposal. Our favorites so far: Grouchy Pants; Ambigu Pants; Cry-baby Pants; Poopy Pants; and the very elusive yet rewarding Happy Pants.

The lesson for the new parent may be that while we may feel like we're in charge, the kid is the one who is really wearing the pants.

Photos: (1) Penny at the pool. (2) Penny, Cousin Mike and Grandpa enjoy some ice cream. (3)Penny enjoying a swing at the park.

Snooze-a-Palooza

2008-05-22T13:34:00.004-04:00

Though we certainly still consider ourselves new parents, Penny has decisively moved from new baby to full on toddler. This past week we twice had the pleasure of coaxing her from emotional duress to a state of semi-happiness (note we didn’t use the “T” word). Both instances were born of lack of sleep, and both were triggered by seemingly mundane and insignificant circumstances.

All this is a lead up to the point of this post – sleep. New parents spend an embarrassingly substantial amount of time worrying over the sleeping habits of their young, coaxing them to sleep, and rearranging schedules so as to capitalize on those fleeting moments of blissful, napping peace.

The problem is that the kids are little versions of us – some like to sleep a lot, some like to sleep a little, and the rare child who fits perfectly into the profile you read about on pretty much any parenting website. Take us, for example – mom is a morning person who likes to get to sleep early, and dad is (definitely) not a morning person who enjoys late night reading. Where does Penny fall in this mix? She’s something of a night owl.

Recognizing that your child is not going to conform to the norm, that they fall outside the boundaries of what the experts tell us to expect is one of the hardest realizations for a new parent. In Penny’s case, another realization is that her bedtime (at least for now) is firmly in the 8:00-8:30 range. Is there anything wrong with that? Not unless she misses her naps.

So we hereby announce the formation of a new support group with this admission: Hello. We’re new parents, and our child loves the night life…she loves to boogie.

By the way, the photos are of Penny at daycare…that’s right, she’s gettin’down…she’s shakin’ to the beat.

Breaking News: New Parents Inadvertently Do Something Smart

2008-04-25T16:43:00.002-04:00

First, our apologies for the dearth of posts over the past month or so. We have a good reason. Really.

We’ve moved the New Parent household across state lines (provided you consider DC the 51st state). Mom and Penny had been commuting to work/daycare for an hour each way, and we decided that their time would probably be better spent on the playground than in the car. We were shocked when our house sold after only ten days on the market, forcing us to find a new place in a hurry, which we did, closing just over a week after making an offer and finally moving into our new place this past Monday (you can see photos of the new place from the realtor's listing here).

Which brings us to what we accidentally did right. The week before our move to the new house, both new parents were out of town for business. (I know, good timing, right?) That meant Penny had the good fortune to spend much of the week with Grandmom and Grandpa. Before going, we loaded most of her toys into Grandmom’s car, which she delivered to Penny’s room in the new house following the return of the new parents.

When we went over to the otherwise empty house just before the move, Penny was astounded to see that her toys had magically appeared. She “ooohd” and “aahhhd” for at least ten minutes, picking up and examining all of the treasures she hadn’t seen in over a day! Since then, whenever away, she gleefully exclaims, “house!” directing us to go home. I mean, who knows what toys will appear next!

The whole episode seems to prove the theory that parenting is mainly about trial, error, and luck. We probably would never have thought about doing something like this, but it was absolutely perfect. Penny loved the new house before we even moved, so no drama over the transition.

We’re all looking forward to exploring the new hood – plentiful material for future blogs as urban new parents move to the semi-burbs, so stay tuned. We promise to get back to our regular schedule once we get back to our regular schedule!

Where's Your Nose!?

2008-02-14T14:51:00.004-05:00

For those of you who have not been a new parent in about 20 years, the saline drops/spray Little Noses may not be familiar. But for today’s parent, especially during cold season, it’s something we rarely do without (especially since most cold medicines have been pulled from the shelf…not that you’d give them to an infant anyway….) So most new parents are left with few tools to decongest their progeny but saline, an aspirator and lots of tissues.

Of course, the process of decongesting would be a lot simpler if the youngsters could just blow! It really doesn’t make sense. They are born with so many instincts for survival and by about 12 months, most can identify their noses. By 18 months, Penny has learned to wipe her nose and put the tissue in the trash can. She’s even, of late, become exceptionally good at picking her nose, sticking her finger way up there with much playfulness and glee. With any luck, the fascination with picking and general nose awareness will soon lead to the ability to blow on command. In the meantime, we'll continue to dutifully follow her around, sneaking in to give her nose a quick wipe before she manages to shake her head and yelp, "no!"

Nature Can Be Cruel

2008-01-29T09:40:00.000-05:00

It’s no secret that prior to and after childbirth, most mommies’ hips spread a bit. Even those who are successful dropping back down to their pre-pregnancy weight, or loosing even more, few witness a hip transformation akin to their teens and twenties.

Dads also typically suffer a certain amount of weight gain, whether as “sympathy gain” or love handles born from too many late nights or meals of macaroni and cheese.

It happens to most of us; you have kids and the rear-end spreads.

So it stands to reason that nature has a cruel sense of humor. For after creating these progeny, one of the rewards is a parent spends a lot of his or her time flaunting the result of this little bundle of joy.

What do we mean? Think about it; next time you’re in a parking lot, dropping off your child at daycare, going to a park, or some other family friendly institution, check out your fellow parents. What do you see? Nothing but a bunch of fat fannies poking out of car doors, as the parents strap in, belt up and secure the little ones for another ride in the car.

Straw Poll

2008-01-11T14:53:00.000-05:00

Before we get to this posting, a quick note on why we’ve been silent for too long – primarily because of dad’s Thanksgiving ACL reconstruction surgery. The good news is that everything went well, and he’ll soon be able to carry Penny around again.

Penny herself had some minor surgery on January 9, a tympanostomy, or for the layman, she had ear tubes put in. That’s one part of this bifurcated post – we thought of two topics that could use the same title, and figured we’d give the reader a twofer as consolation for our extended absence from the blogosphere.

So back to the surgery. It turns out that Penny has had at least nine ear infections in the past year. Apparently that’s a few too many, so the pediatrician referred us to see a specialist who recommended the tubes. Penny did a great job – was only grouchy after waking up from the anesthesia. And since then she’s slept great and been a generally cheerful girl. It turns out that having fluid constantly in your ears for a year and a half doesn’t feel that good.

On to the second part of the post (and the original namesake). What is it with toddlers and straws? They seem drawn to them like moths to a lamp. Take a toddler to any restaurant, and within seconds they’ve spotted the nearest straw and proceed to cry relentlessly until they are able to chew the end and discard it quickly on the floor.

Once you’ve secured a second straw, they want to drink from it. Nevermind that they haven’t quite figured out the whole “suction makes the liquid move through the straw” thing. Glance around any family-friendly restaurant, and you’re sure to see a batch of parents patiently feeding their tykes water, using the straw as a sort of pipette, gently dropping water into their progeny’s mouth.

At some point the kid figures out how the straw works and can actually use it to drink – the problem is that they still can’t be trusted with a genuine, bona fide, breakable glass, so the next step is for the parent to hold the glass just below the surface of the table so that junior can suck the precious liquid through the straw. (Note that at no point in this process is the parent actually enjoying their own, tasty beverage).

Which brings us back around to the title of this posting: a straw poll. Why is it that certain things, like straws, fascinate all kids, regardless of gender?

Write to us! What are/were your kids most fascinated with? Q-tips? The neighborhood cat? Dump trucks?

Battle Over Bottle

2007-10-26T10:37:00.000-04:00

Penny has never been a big eater. Food does not hold her interest, and at daycare she has refused such things as angel food cake with strawberries, mashed potatoes, and even a cupcake during a classmate’s birthday party.

There was a month or so last winter when after a couple of colds and the flu, mom and dad got a bit concerned when Penny’s weight dropped and then plateaued. So it’s understandable that our worry over her calorie intake, coupled with our desire for sleep, led us to giving her a regular bottle before bed time.

This isn’t unusual, of course, but this summer mom and dad made a crucial and conscious error. When transitioning Penny from the bottle to sippy cup, we didn’t take away the bedtime bottle. And after a pretty painless switch, we were feeling good about our success.

Good until about a week ago at a 15-month well-care visit when our pediatrician asked about Penny’s bedtime routine. Well then, POW, there it was; that lingering doubt, or was it a pang of guilt, that our decision was not-so-wise. Not only was the pediatrician unimpressed with our ability to transition our daughter to a cup, but we were strongly encouraged to forgo the bottle altogether. So we have begun the painful transition; battling over the bottle. It’s not going to be easy, and the only solace we’ve found is the hope that it wasn’t easy for our pediatrician either.

Help assuage our guilt over our rookie mistake!

Poker Face

2007-10-12T14:53:00.000-04:00

Penny’s personality is really starting to show in a big way. The problem for us is that she’s really funny. Not intentionally funny, but funny in the way she goes about things, the faces she makes, and her general demeanor.

That means that the hardest part about being her parent at the moment is keeping a straight face – we can’t laugh at her shenanigans, like when she gets tired of trying to feed herself the yogurt with a spoon so just starts grabbing handfuls, putting some in her mouth, but using the majority as hair mousse.

So what’s a new parent to do when their child sits on the floor playing with her belly like some sort of neo-Buddha meets Pilsbury Doughboy, poking herself in the tummy and giggling? Worse is when she’s doing something wrong, but in such a way that it makes you want to laugh, like chasing the dog around, crying “na-na,” her version of Newman, while the dog himself slinks from place to place, trying to find a bit of peace.

The fact seems to be that kids are just funny, probably because they do the things we wish we could still do. We want to laugh because they don’t care if they look silly. For now, our tactic is to alternate – one of us presents the poker face while the other turns and snickers. Count to ten…and switch. Maybe we should just give up and laugh out loud. After all, what’s not funny about a creamed spinach mustache?

Splitting Hairs

2007-09-14T13:48:00.000-04:00

So we’ve had a few milestones pass over the last few weeks that put Penny in the “little girl” category as opposed to the “little baby” realm. She talks a lot more, babbling in sentences instead of single words. She’s developed an imagination, handing invisible bits of who-knows-what to mom or dad. She dances to music, likes to play with the dog, and enjoys hitting herself in the head with an empty water bottle. (See Just Like Her Brother.)

Two weeks ago, she graduated from the infant room to the toddler room at daycare. She has to wear hard-soled shoes. She no longer sleeps in a crib, but rather on a sleeping bag-like mat. Her day is programmed with activities, such as music time, and she sits in a little chair at a little table to have her lunch.

But being new parents, we have a hard time admitting that our little girl is growing up, and fast. In fact, only one thing has seemed to help us come to terms with this reality: her hair! Penny had her first haircut over Labor Day weekend. Mom trimmed the widow’s peak locks that were falling into her eyes, giving her big-girl bangs. And much to Dad’s delight, her hair is now long enough for itty-bitty pigtails. They don’t stay in very long, but they sure are cute while they last!

Cradle Crap

2007-08-27T15:14:00.001-04:00

When Penny was just a “wee-bairn” one of our neighbors asked: “Does she have cradle cap? Oh, boy, I remember having such a hard time with that cradle cap.”

Well, being the new and innocent parents that we were, we had not seen any cradle cap on our child’s head…nor did we really know what it was!

So imagine our surprise when not a week later the pediatrician mentioned, “Oh, she has a little cradle cap. Some lotion should take care of that.”

It didn’t. Months have gone by and we still hear the voice of our neighbor echoing in our ears: “Does she have cradle cap.” And the naïve response, “uh, uh…no. Not her.” It’s as if our neighbor was a seer or mystic, trying to forewarn us of the horror, the annoyance, the crud.

Now we can’t seem to get rid of it. The yellowish flakes still appear when we brush her hair in the morning, and we don’t dare dress her in black! In desperation, we recently took the advice of a sister and rubbed olive oil over her scalp…and then washed out the olive oil with Dawn. It seems to have helped; that, and a good comb. But the flakes still linger.

In Tag We Trust

2007-08-10T15:06:00.000-04:00

We may not have mentioned this before, but Penny is one of those kids that is naturally drawn to tags. Now that she is able to explore beyond her arms reach, we imagine the most burning question on her mind may be, “Does everything in the world have a tag?”

We never really noticed tags before, but they turn out to be pervasive in our society. Tags adorn everything from mattresses (do not remove!) to cars (license tags) to goods (price tags). Mom wears a tag on her belt that lets her into her office building. Even Newman has not one, not two, but three tags dangling from his collar.

Will Penny ever be able to escape the alluring draw of the tag? Right now all she wants to do is tag along with her mom and dad. In a few years, she’ll probably start playing tag with her friends. With luck, she’ll be tagged as an exemplary student. Maybe she’ll be a professional tagline writer!

In the meantime, we invite you to notice just how many tags encumber your world. Send us a note describing your favorite tag-sperience. And for the technically savvy among you, be sure to tag this blog.

As a postscript to this entry, we include a number of photos from our recent vacation to Deep Creek Lake. Remarkably, there’s not a tag in sight.

New Parents No More

2007-07-12T16:16:00.000-04:00

Penny turns one this Sunday, which means mom and dad are no longer “new parents.” By no means experts, mom and dad have learned a lot this past year, especially what not to do.

To cap off the year, here’s a crowd-pleasing top ten list of the biggest mistakes mom and dad made.

#10: “There’s no wipes or tissues in the car.” Learning that a bigger girl has bigger poops—the car is now fully stocked.

#9: “Oops! Now mom needs to change clothes.” Stripping Penny down for her bath a little too early.

#8: “She’s really gotten tall!” Waiting about a day too long to lower the crib.

#7: “No wonder she was getting frustrated.” Noticing that the size #3 bottle nipple is for a much younger child.

#6: “She seems so active while she’s sleeping.” Realizing that maybe she’s trying to stay warm.

#5: “She just won’t eat the baby food and hasn’t touched the rice cereal.” Understanding that she has a palate, too!

#4: “I was wondering why her diapers were always leaking.” Waiting, once again, too long to change her diaper size.

#3: “Why is Penny crying every 15 minutes?” Understanding that this middle-of-the-night activity means she probably has a bad ear infection and that it’s okay to give her Tylenol.

#2: “Maybe she’d like to try feeding herself a pea?” Learning once and for all that Penny is allergic to legumes.

#1: “She won’t take the bottle!” Waiting until the day mom returned to work to “transition” from the breast to the bottle.

Personality Goes a Long Way

2007-06-19T10:07:00.000-04:00

Penny turned 11 months old a week ago, and mom and dad are still coming to terms with the realization that she’s been with us for almost a year. It’s hard to imagine that in June 2006, we lazed in front of the TV, mom hugely pregnant on the couch and dad chillin’ on the floor, watching World Cup games. We had NO IDEA what our lives would become and could scarcely conceive Penny’s face, her ears, her arms and legs, and most of all, her personality.

Except when teething, she is a lot of fun these days. She mimics like a monkey and babbles like a brook. She sprints (well, sprint-crawls) for the dishwasher when mom or dad opens its door and likes to stand wherever there’s a crib bar, baby gate, coffee table, cabinet, chair.... And when she’s playing or eating—it’s often hard to distinguish between the two—she assumes one of three personalities that mom and dad like to call little monster, little bear and little prospector.

Little monster

Little monster Penny appears most often on Saturday or Sunday mornings when mom or dad has gone to grab little Penny from her crib and bring her to the big bed so mom and dad can stay in a reclined posture for that much longer. Little monster Penny likes to crawl from head to foot of the bed, trampling over all in her path (to include blankets, pillows and dogs), working up to her knees, and then shaking the bed frame while crying out, “RAAAAHHHHHH!” Now that she has a single, sharp tooth protruding from her bottom gum, the little monster roar is that much more impressive.

Little bear

Little bear Penny often emerges during mealtime. When presented with finger food, Penny likes to shove a few (or ten) pieces in her mouth and then swat at the remaining pieces on her tray…as if she is a big grizzly bear, waiting for a trout to come within her grasp, she swats at the food, proud of her kill. She also often smacks her food two or three times in a playful way to make sure it’s dead before eating it. This behavior could also be described as little kitty Penny.

Little prospector

Little prospector Penny is our favorite personality. When Penny is playing on the floor, like many children she crawls from toy to toy, as one becomes more interesting than the next. Each time Penny discovers a new toy, she turns it over in her hands two or three times and then gives it a good chomp. Is she checking for purity?

We were going to dress Penny up as a nickel for Halloween this year, but now we’re thinking that a little beard, a plaid shirt, a weather-worn hat, and a sifting pan would look just great!

Baby on Board

2007-06-08T16:59:00.000-04:00

Remember back in the day, when the model Volvo you drove marked your status as a new parent? And, of course, your safety concerns were punctuated with a little yellow diamond proclaiming, “Baby on Board!”

These days, status is determined not only by choice of car, but also by choice of stroller. The next time you are in a target rich environment, like a shopping mall, notice the sideways glances new parents cast to see what make and model of stroller others are pushing. The top contenders: Bugaboo ($700-900), Maclaren ($300-400), and Peg Perego ($200-300). The A-types among us will even scoff if they see you with an Evenflo or, horrors, a Graco (although, the new ultralightweight and portable Graco system has recently been spotted hobnobbing with the hoity-toity!).

We’ve fallen into the trap ourselves: on a recent outing we pushed Penny around in a borrowed, late model American-made behemoth with cup holders for days. The white molded plastic looked dingy, and the dark blue pen striped fabric didn’t even match her outfit! We had to chuckle at a few of our fellow, snobby new parents who briefly looked down their noses at the unfashionable thing.

Which brings us to our own confession of snobbishness. The stroller we plop Penny in is so elite it’s not even available for purchase in the United States! That’s right, it’s an imported Quinny Zapp, which, when collapsed, is the smallest stroller on the market (perfect for the boot of a Mini). Dad picked it up in Montreal while on business and smuggled the contraband south of the border.

The Zapp throws a wrench in the pecking order. Since nobody knows what it is, how do you know its relative level of elitism? Where does it fall in relation to the big boys?

With luck, our relative coolness is enhanced by the Zapp’s novelty. After all, what better way to build our bourgeois, yuppy street cred than to have discovered the next big thing in infant/toddler, non-motorized, parent-propelled transportation! That's how we roll.

Potty Mouth

2007-05-22T17:40:00.000-04:00

Like many of our peers, we have lived almost solely around adults since moving out of our parents’ homes. We don’t think too much about letting an “h-e-double hockey sticks” slip out or the occasional “f-bomb.” We’re not really fazed by the language that escapes our lips when for instance that stupid-no-good-blankity-blank cuts us off in traffic. And when a dish breaks on the floor, one sometimes can’t help but say, “Oh, shoot!” Except, not really “shoot.”

Now that we are new parents, we have started to substitute some of these words with synonyms not uttered since grade school. We’re hoping that if we start now, we’ll train ourselves to use a cleaner lexicon by the time Penny is really mimicking our speech.

For the other new parents out there who very soon may need to start a similar regimen, we offer the following phrase list (feel free to add your own):

Jerk-face: someone who does something annoying, asinine; usage: “get out of the fast lane, you jerk-face!”

Bull puckey!: I don’t believe it; that’s incorrect; usage: “That’s bull puckey!”

Dagnabit!: Interjection. An expression of surprise. syn. Gosh darn it, shoot, fiddlesticks, woopsadaisy

Sacre Bleu!: Unbelievable, surprising: usage: “Sacre Bleu! I was almost hit by that falling piano.”

Shut the Front Door!: Stop it, discontinue, no-kidding: usage: “Shut the front door! You can’t be serious!”

D’oh!: Oops: usage: see Simpson, Homer.

Photo-Mat Musings

2007-05-14T10:52:00.000-04:00

We don’t mean to complain, and it’s really not that big of a deal…and we’re sure the pressure we feel is self-inflicted, but who would have thought that along with the other responsibilities a new parent faces — feeding, clothing, raising the child — photographing and more importantly, distributing photographs is at the top of the list.

When asked how their children are faring, our friends generally offer not an overview of the child’s progress, but a response more like, “Oh, I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten any photos to you lately.” Or, “I’m sorry I haven’t sent any photos. My digital camera is acting up, again.”

We’re all interested in seeing updated shots of our friends and families’ offspring, but has the convenience of the digital age once again applied undue pressure on an already weary parent? Gone are the days when an annual holiday card photo sufficed.

And we know you’re thinking, “C’mon. How hard is it to attach a photo to an e-mail and send it around?” Aha...Not so fast! Digital photography has also made it that much easier to take hundreds of photos of the child. The new parent is now faced with downloading, sorting and deleting photos; backing-up the catalogue on cds or an external hard drive; and when you’re finally ready to e-mail a few shots, resizing the images so as not to exceed e-mail storage limits. And while most family members are digitally accessible, the eldest generation, who are probably most deserving of a photo of his/her great-grandchild, probably don’t have a yahoo or snapfish account.

So the new parent has to fork it out for a good quality color photo printer, or, as is our case, make a gallant return to the photo-mat, in all it's post-analog, touch screen, digital glory. (Or... you could start a blog about some nonsense as a not-so-subtle way to disseminate the week's cutest shots).

Lawrence Park

2007-04-30T14:58:00.000-04:00

The about-to-be-new-parent can’t help but visualize what the new baby is going to look like and how she’s going to act. There are often explicit images that dance before your eyes of faces and actions. Somehow we extrapolate these images into an overall idea of what the child will be like.

As any seasoned parent knows, these images only rarely intersect with reality or it takes awhile for the baby to grow into the image (e.g. one of us kind of skipped the Baby Penny stage in the imagination, choosing instead to visualize Toddler Penny).

Now this is not to say that this is disappointing. On the contrary, it’s fun to see how our dreams of Penny are shaping into the reality. It’s just that before the arrival, no parent visualizes Poopy-Diaper Penny or Target-Vomiting Baby.

The new parent trudges through these stages, eventually arriving at an intersection of dream and reality. And these few occasions are enough – much like that rare but perfect golf stroke or perfect bowling game – to keep you dreaming about the future.

We were lucky to have had such an intersection last weekend, when the weather and state of the yard permitted us to go out back for a picnic. Pictured above, the scene was reminiscent of an English Romance novel (more Jane Austen than Emily Bronte). Penny—clad in a cheerful floral print skirt and floppy pink hat—enjoyed playing on the grass as the wind gently blew apple blossoms to the ground. Newman playfully chased birds and squirrels, pausing to rest occasionally in the herb garden. And mom and dad stretched out on a blanket under the warm sun, listening to baby chatter and coo.

Next point on the Imagine-Penny Timeline: pigtails.

Just Like Her Brother

2007-04-17T09:55:00.000-04:00

In 2001 when we adopted Newman from the SPCA, we stocked up on food, prepared his sleep area and bought him some great new toys. He was with us for about a week before we learned that his favorite toy was an empty plastic water bottle. He loved the crunchy sound it made when he chewed the bottle’s round middle, and he had fun chasing it around the room when it slipped out of his jaws. He gnawed and gnawed on the cap until, triumphantly, he removed it from the bottle’s neck.

So imagine our surprise (you know where this is leading) when one recent afternoon Penny was playing on her tummy and saw a (clean!) empty water bottle across the floor. Never before has our little girl been so determined to propel herself forward. She reached towards the bottle with resolve, and with mom and dad’s help, she got her little butt forward and grabbed the bottle...and she started chewing on the cap.

As it turns out, this isn’t her “brother’s” only trait she’s mimicking. She’s enamored with her fluffy pal, and likes to watch him bark. She’s even started to make her own little “woof-woof” noise, sounding something like, “uhh-uhh.”

We’ve even had a major communication breakthrough regarding the canis lupus familiaris. During Easter weekend, we asked Penny, “Where’s the dog?” Held aloft by a parent, she looked toward the ground and searched for a four-legged friend.

The Heat is On

2007-03-20T13:46:00.000-04:00

If you have ever visited us during the winter, you may be aware that our house lacks the modern convenience of exterior insulation. Over the years we’ve tried different strategies to keep the house warm without breaking the bank, always ending in defeat. It turns out that in the end, after all the cracks are sealed, the only way to reduce your heating cost is to reduce your heat.

After a while it became a point of pride that our thermostat clocked in at 50 degrees during the night, rising to a balmy 60 during the day. We took the opportunity to get good use out of our quilts and afghans and promote our various colleges/sporting teams by wearing their sweatshirts. One of us, and we won’t name names, even began to wear a hooded sweatshirt to bed. We let Newman’s coat grow nice and long.

Then along came Penny. As if her daycare wasn’t costing enough, it seems that her comfort level requires slightly more heat than our norm. With rising gas prices, even a few degrees increase put the squeeze on the monthly budget. We gave in, setting the night temperature to 55 and the daytime to a bourgeois 65.

In order to prevent icicles from forming on Penny’s chin, we put a space heater in her room (which made nighttime feedings actually enjoyable—it gave the volunteer a chance to go into Penny’s sauna-like room and warm up before heading back to our sleeping chamber tundra). Since her rhythmic crib thumping precluded the use of blankets, we gingerly wrapped her in layer-upon-layer of onesies, pajamas and sleep sacks, topped off with an old-fashioned sleeping cap. Fortunately, the weather this winter has been moderate and next year we can introduce the game “How Many Blankets Can You Climb Under?!”

Stooping to Subterfuge

2007-03-07T17:06:00.000-05:00

At some point in the past month or so Penny evolved from infant to sentient being. She’s developing a personality and habits and is grabbing and attempting to eat anything within a 12-inch perimeter. She’s particularly good at independent play, something we promote, mostly because we’re too tired to entertain her all the time.

We’re all for teaching her to develop and use her imagination. We’ve even invented a new character to help her along the way, the Magic Toy Fairy.

It works this way – Penny starts fussing a bit, maybe a half hour or so before we want her to wake up. Her tone clearly indicates that she isn’t uncomfortable, just bored. What is a new parent to do? Sleep is a commodity, so do we give up that precious half hour? Penny is perfectly happy to kick around and play without our attention, but once eye contact is made, its time to pick her up. Enter the Magic Toy Fairy.

The designated new parent crawls into her room, making sure to remain obscured by the crib bumper, picks up one of her toys, and dumps it over the edge of the crib without being seen. This is followed by a similar, careful exit, and presto, back to blissful sleep for half an hour, while she plays with the toy.

We wonder what Penny thinks of all this, though. I mean, toys magically appearing from the heavens, dropping into the crib? How cool is that? The Magic Toy Fairy strikes again.

Picture This

2007-02-25T14:07:00.000-05:00

This week’s post is devoted to the gadget-hungry parent. By now we fully realize the marketing pressure applied to the new parent, the grandparents, and soon enough, little Penny. Not that we should be surprised; for in this great capitalist society, having children provides yet another marketable demographic for Wall Street.

We have already talked at length how we’re going to help Penny be a savvy consumer, and hopefully not fall prey to the cleverly disguised marketing and communications campaigns prevalent in her day-to-day life…written by incredibly smart, and well-meaning professionals, like, well, her parents.

However, it will be hard to teach her how best to hold onto her purse strings when her parents enjoy the wonderfully high-tech gadgets offered. And what better excuse to purchase a brand new gadget than “the baby.”

But We Needed It
With some of our Christmas money, we recently purchased a new 6.1 megapixel digital single-lens reflex (DSLR) camera with a 28-105mm f/3.5-4.5D IF autofocus lens. In addition to producing a superior digital photo, we are able to squeeze off 2.5 frames per second to capture little Penny’s every adorable move. It’s lighter weight than some models, and has a two-inch LCD display for photo viewing. It’s the perfect camera for the new parent, as confirmed by an online catalogue:

“The "Child" mode, for example, assures that moms and dads don't have to be photography experts to capture the most vivid color and contrast when taking pictures of their children. The "Child" mode automatically adjusts several of the camera's settings, including ISO, shutter speeds, and white balance, to produce optimized images when taking pictures of children.”

We love having the new camera! It’s been a month and we’ve already taken hundreds of photos! And just think of the wonderful pictures we’ll publish to the blog! We can’t wait for it to be spring so that we can compose photo shoots, en plein-air.

All further justifications aside, we just really wanted it. You really want a new camera now, too; don’t you?

Scent of a Baby

2007-02-07T16:32:00.000-05:00

We noticed that it has been a while since we examined the fecal offerings of our offspring. In our last post, we looked at one side of Penny’s illness. This week we dive into another, the backside.

While the Pedialyte certainly worked, rehydrating Penny and giving her a boost of energy, a secondary effect was a diaper that smelled, well, really really bad.

We took a look at a thesaurus to see if there is a word that encapsulates the smell in a single term. We started with “rank,” which returned: bad, dank, disagreeable, disgusting, evil-smelling, feculent, fetid, foul, funky, fusty, gamy, graveolent, gross, high, humid, loathsome, mephitic, moldy, musty, nasty, nauseating, noisome, noxious, obnoxious, off, offensive, olid, pungent, putrescent, putrid, rancid, reeking, repulsive, revolting, smelly, sour, stale, strong, strong-smelling, tainted, and turned.

Quite a lot to sort through. So being aficionados of The Princess Bride, we took a look at putrescent. The first definition, “becoming putrid; putrefying.” Yeah, that sounds about right. (Bonus points: see if you can work “graveolent” into your daily vocabulary).

Even still, this lexicon really cannot do justice to the plain foulness of Penny’s diaper deposits. Words truly fail us. Instead, let us paint you a picture:

Mom sits with Penny in the family room, cradling the sick baby in her lap when she feels a little rumble emit from baby’s bottom. A few moments later, dad says, “Oh! What is that—ugh! Is that from Penny?!”

Mom and dad get up to change Penny’s diaper and discover a soupy mixture akin to three-day-old-left-in-the-sun-to-rot-Bouillabaisse; not in texture, but in smell. The rotten fish smell is so rank that mom, who is thankfully a little less sensitive to smell, tries to cover her nose while cleaning up Penny’s bottom. Dad, whose olfactory sense is stronger, retches a few times at the scent then immediately wraps the heavy diaper in thick plastic and deposits it in the trashcan outside. (He thought about sneaking it into a neighbors trash can up the street to get it as far away as possible but figured that would just be mean.) Penny, who is feeling better at this point, lies on the changing table and smiles with glee at how funny mom and dad are.

Pedialyte and Prose

2007-01-30T20:12:00.000-05:00

Penny was sick again this week. She caught a viral infection that produced bad vomiting. So on a Tuesday afternoon, I sat on the floor next to Penny, propped in her car seat, and read her children’s books between syringes of grape flavored Pedialyte. Penny’s mouth turned a nice purple-ish-black color.

Later that morning, as I took my turn feeding her more fluids and rocking her back to sleep, I looked again at the collection of books Penny has accumulated. Mostly gifts from family and friends, Penny has already built quite a library. I sat staring at the titles:

Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey
When the Moon is High by Alice Schertle
Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell Hoban
Farewell to Shady Glade by Bill Peet

How delightful that Penny’s world is already filled with so many beautiful books, so many stories carefully and lovingly illustrated. These books were read aloud to her cousins, her friends—countless children before her. And once she moves beyond simply tasting the pages, she’ll also enjoy the illustrations and phrases that sparked imaginations.

Write to us! What are your favorite children's books?

The Unspoken Rule

2007-01-24T21:06:00.000-05:00

We’ve discovered an unspoken rule between new parents. It doesn’t have a name; nobody warns you about it (It’s unspoken—duh!). It’s akin to bargaining.

It usually manifests like this:

Spouse 1: “Sweetheart, you busy?!”
Spouse 2: “What do you need, honey bunny?”
Spouse 1: “Can you watch the baby for a few minutes? I need to take care of the dog.”
Spouse 2: “Are you sure? I can take care of him.”
Spouse 1: “No, no. Really, I don’t mind picking out the fleas lodged in his matted fur. I’ll be in the basement with a comb.”

Or there’s this scenario:

Spouse 1: “Okay, we’ve got the family coming over tomorrow. We need to clean the bathrooms, make cookies, file the bills and mow the lawn.”
Spouse 2: “Plus I noticed that we should probably rinse off the porch, clean out the fridge, steam clean the carpets, and re-grout the tile next to the kitchen sink. If you watch the baby, I’ll take care of everything.”

It’s not that we don’t love our child or enjoy spending time with her. However, if one parent happens to be off in another room in the house, sans baby, that parent had better be doing something meaningful and productive to warrant such precious alone time. Relaxation or adult fun time is not allowed unless the baby is in both parents’ presence or an agreement was previously established.

The good news is that all this makes you more productive. Given the time suckage that comes with a child, the more you can do in a short time the better. Of course, once you’ve suckered the other parent, you can always stall…

A New Year

2007-01-17T21:55:00.000-05:00

Remarkably, it has been only two weeks since we returned from California…remarkable because we have encountered so many new experiences, most notably Penny’s first day at school and most recently, welcoming Penny’s newest first cousin into the world.

Penny started daycare the day after we returned. (See photo at left of her first day of school!) She has adjusted pretty quickly, or as the head caretaker described her, “She’s a good baby. That first day, not so good, but she’s a good baby.” Here are three more developments we have enjoyed the past two weeks.

New Awareness
Now at the ripe old age of six months, Penny is acutely aware of her surroundings, and as veteran parents know, is trying to cram her surroundings into her mouth. She’s also developed a vice-like grip not to mention an adorable whine when we try to pry an object from her steely fingers.

New Entrepreneurial Skills
Upon unpacking her bag from her first day of daycare, we were delighted to find a parents newsletter, calendar and…wait for it… a fundraising form. Our favorite caption from the fundraiser: “Purchase pizza and bar-b-que wings for a complete meal!” We’re pretty sure Penny outsold the other infants.

New Reflexes
And finally, just last week we developed a full understanding of the varying degrees of Penny’s gag reflex—from the tiniest urp to the full up-chuck. Penny didn’t just bring a fundraiser home her first week, she also brought the stomach flu. She’s recovered now, and so have mom, dad, Grandma and Grandpa…and hopefully anyone else we infected.

You are now free to wake up the baby

2006-12-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

On Friday Penny took her first airplane ride, transcontinental to boot. With much anticipation we planned this journey. We chose an outfit that made changing easy; she wore socks that don’t fall off. We arrived at the terminal well in advance. And Penny did just fine…she slept during boarding and takeoff and didn’t seem bothered by the bumpy acceleration.

[Sidebar: training your child for a bumpy flight. Step 1, purchase a Mini Cooper S shortly before you discover you are about to have a child. Step 2, transport the child solely in the Mini from in utero through birth. Step 3, be sure to choose routes through the District of Columbia that haven’t seen resurfacing in lo these many years.]

So there we were, ensconced in seats 26B and C, with Penny blissfully unaware that she was hurtling at somewhere just under mach 1 to visit her grandparents, aunt, uncle, cousin, and various other relatives and associates in California. We started to think, “maybe this won’t be so bad, maybe she’ll even sleep through the whole thing!” Until the cabin speakers leapt into action, following a loud “Bing!” with, “Thank you for choosing American Airlines, soon we will reach our cruising altitude of 36,000 feet. We will begin our inflight beverage service as soon as the captain removes the seat belt sign...” and so on, and so on.

They had Penny at the Bing.

The rest of the flight continued in a similar vein – Penny would fall asleep, they would make an announcement and wake her up. This is not to say that she didn’t do a great job. In fact, she acquitted herself perfectly, with only one grumpy period during which mom and dad were interminably boring.

If Samuel Jackson had been sitting in 26A, he probably would have surmised, "I’m sick and tired of these [BING!] announcements on this [BING!] plane!”

Little Drummer Girl

2006-12-11T20:57:00.000-05:00

The year is drawing nigh; the season of goodwill is upon us. The new year brings the promise of new beginnings, hope, and daycare.

On January 3, Penny will begin daycare as mom and dad return to their regular work schedules. Anticipating a new morning routine, we have started to ease Penny into a different sleep schedule, and learning from past mistakes we have begun early.

This week Penny started sleeping in her crib full time. Previously she slept in a “sidecar” position: in a bassinet on mom’s side of the bed. This served the dual purposes of making midnight feedings a little easier and giving mom the opportunity to peek on Penny while she slept. We became accustomed to her stirrings and baby coos, but they were admittedly difficult to sleep through.

Now that Penny is in her crib, her nighttime stirrings are less noticeable, save one. Penny enjoys lifting her legs up and letting them fall. She’s also partial to flapping her arms. And on a crib mattress, which is nothing more than a few coils in a tightly strung cloth, her stirrings emit a noise similar to a poorly constructed bass drum. So now during the hours of approximately one, three and five o’clock, we hear our amateur percussionist banging away, as if to say,

Wake, she told them, pah rum pa pa pum
I have good news to bring, pah rum pa pa pum
My diaper’s leaking, pah rum pa pa pum
The sheet’ll be stinking, pah rum pa pa pum, rum pa pa pum, rum pa pa pum

Where Have All the Diapers Gone?

2006-12-04T18:05:00.000-05:00

If you haven’t had a kid in the last decade or so, you may not know about the amazing advances in diaper containment and disposal technology. Some of the best research and development minds at leading child-care product providers have come up with systems that not only remove soiled diapers from sight, but also magically expunge the odor from the air.

Gone are the days of a nursery that smells like a bakery. No more converted trashcans with their non-airtight seals, receptacles that allow excess diapers to spill forth and clutter a child’s play area with the residue of last night’s dinner.

For the new parent, such advances don’t come without controversy or consternation, however. There are several competing systems, each with their own merits. The leading two are the Diaper Genie and the Diaper Champ. The Diaper Genie relies on special internal bags that individually seal each offering. The Diaper Champ uses a unique turn and drop system that disposes of the diaper through a device similar to a bank’s night deposit box.

Our decision to go with the Diaper Champ resulted from the recommendation of one good friend, coupled with the comment from a sibling that the string of individually wrapped diapers taken from the Genie looks like a diaper sausage. Plus, it’s really fun to use the Champ’s deposit mechanism, which emits a satisfying thump with each use.

It also comes with a convenient way to tell when it is time to change the liner—when the drop mechanism needs to be punched down in order to make a fresh deposit, the time has probably come. None of this is meant to be a ringing endorsement either way: each have their advantages and issues. Diaper disposal just happens to be something we think about a lot.

What we’d like to suggest is that someone develop something even cooler for the next child. Perhaps Diaper Champ could build on the concept of the bank depository and construct a system for the new parent that mimics a bank’s drive through teller system, the one with the pneumatic tubes. What could be better than inserting the diaper into a tube installed conveniently by the changing table and watching it fly away—accompanied by a satisfying “thuuuuup”—straight to its demise in the trash can outside. No more smell, no more changing the liner, no more Austrian-American sausage links. Imagine the possibilities…

A Soliloquy on Solids

2006-11-29T19:44:00.000-05:00

For the first few months, an infant lives in a world that is almost completely liquid, much like Kevin Costner in Waterworld, but without the muss and fuss of those pesky, psychotic oil pirates.

From intake to output, including the middle stages of spit up and drool, it seems babies are merely surfing the wave of development. The books even refer to such things as “fluid” sleeping and eating patterns.

Thus, it is the new parents’ job to take the baby to higher ground; to make the baby solid. We eagerly await the opportunity to feed her solid food, hoping that will help in getting her to sleep for an unbroken period during the night. We play with her, trying to solidify our bond.

It would appear that our entire function at this point is to drain away her liquid lifestyle and move her safely towards a solid world.

That being the case, we thought it might make sense to take a look at what the word solid actually means. It turns out that there are more than 13 definitions for solid , ranging from a three-dimensional object to being of one substance and character throughout.

The word comes from the Middle English solide, in turn from Latin solidus; akin to Greek holos, whole. Since Penny’s full name, Penelope, is of Greek origin, we suppose this means that it is our job to make her solid, to make her a whole person. Of all the thirteen definitions for solid, the one that probably makes the most sense as we aid in Penny’s development, whether we’re talking about solid food, a solid sleeping schedule, or a solid relationship, should be:

4 : (adj) of good substantial quality or kind.

In lieu of a poll this week we propose a new feature, the New Parent Blog Call for Comments! Post a comment about your favorite infant feeding experience. If you remember your own first experience with cereal, we’ll all be amazed.

On Parenting

2006-11-20T11:26:00.000-05:00

The martial minded among you will recognize the reference in the title of this post to Clausewitz’s On War, a classic treatise on military strategy. This posting follows in this strain, since it is time to confess to what most new parents probably keep to themselves – that these first few months are kind of like a war, the parents versus the infant...in reality, a war of the parents versus themselves. In keeping with the point of this blog, perhaps a look at ourselves can lead to some revelations about all (apologies to Montaigne).

You see, we spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out how to get Penny to do what we’d like her to do: maybe if we feed her more, she’ll sleep more, and so on. We find ourselves looking for the right philosophy. Since we’ve entered into a social contract with Penny, shouldn’t she be bound by the same rules that govern our behavior?

Or maybe, we should accept her curveballs with grace, supposing that all of our actions, both hers and ours, contribute to the greater good. But then, having submitted to the idea that we’re all in it together, shouldn’t we be able to choose whatever regimen we want?

Maybe we’re overthinking things a bit, a common trait of the new parent. Maybe we should leave the cave and go out into the sunshine. Maybe we should just bag all these fancy philosophies and go with the one proven to work: let it be, let it be.

Pounds, Pet, Pounds

2006-11-13T19:23:00.000-05:00

So…we made a serious new parent mistake this week. There’s really no excusing this one. It was just plain dumb. We even feel a little embarrassed exposing our egregious error in cyberspace. We really don't know what to say.

We believe, as many of our fellow new parents have confirmed, that Pampers are the best diapers. They cost more…they cost more because they hold more. No, the longstanding diaper making company did not pay us to endorse their brand, but perhaps if we provide a link to their website….

We tried a couple of other brands but quickly discovered that Pampers provide the best leak protection, which when you’re debating in the middle of the night whether to change the baby’s diaper and risk bringing the baby back to full consciousness, is a serious benefit. The Pampers also fit her little legs most snuggly, preventing many soiled outfits.

Just about a month ago, Penny saw her pediatrician and weighed in at a healthy 12 pounds. Now being the attentive and dutiful parents that we are, we had bulk purchased 166 size one diapers about the same time as said pediatrician appointment, figuring that at her average of one to two pound per month gain, she’d use up the bulk pack just in time for her to switch to size two.

So imagine our surprise, about a week later when we started to experience more nighttime diaper leaks…soiled outfits during the day. How could our beloved Pampers fail us!?

Of course, all of you out there who remember diaper size parameters are saying to yourself, silly parents, you forgot to check the pounds carefully. Well, we had, but somehow, the parameter of size one, 8-12 pounds, had changed to size one, 8-14 pounds in our heads.

Well, Penny is much drier now, and our friends with the newborn who live up the street are 58 Pampers the richer.

On another note, following the resumption of standard time, we reset the clocks on our walls. We reset our alarm clocks. We even reset the clock in the car. If anyone can tell us how to reset an infant’s internal clock, please let us know.

Have you heard this one?

2006-11-06T18:15:00.000-05:00

How many adults does it take to assemble an exersaucer? How many new parents do you need to put together a baby bathtub?

Too bad it’s not really a joke. This is no laughing matter.

We’ve covered batteries and touched on the ubiquitous tiny screws, but now we must bemoan the assembly instructions required for Penny’s accessories.

A little background: we are accustomed to lengthy instructions and the headaches that accompany self-assembled items and do-it-yourself projects. After all, half of our furniture and all of our bookshelves came from Ikea, for goodness sakes! The instructions for our eight-foot tall computer cabinet had 44 steps and took us seven hours to assemble (full disclosure – we had to disassemble it once during the process due to an inverted shelf. Stupid upside down instruction manual…).

We renovated our entire kitchen with professional assistance only from the electrician, plumber and floor refinisher. The kitchen cabinets came in 85 flat boxes and required total assembly, down to measuring and drilling holes for the drawer pulls and cabinet knobs.

So, on a recent, pleasant Sunday afternoon, why did it take three adults 90 minutes to assemble one exersaucer? Perhaps it’s the copious quantity of plastic pieces? Rarely do the instructions come with an inventory list: were we supposed to have one plastic monkey or two?

Maybe it’s the lack of detailed instructions when you need them—such as in assembling the adjustable footing—and too much detail when you don’t. This is a direct quotation, honest to God:

“ALWAYS remove baby from ExerSaucer before folding.” Thanks for the tip.

We could have used such clarity for an earlier instruction:

“Lift tray C up so that upper leg assembly D is hanging from tray. Place the large spring E on the cross center guide F on the upper leg assembly. Place spring cap G over spring E. Compress spring with spring dome until spring cap meets the tray C.”

Got all that?

And why should you need both a flat head and a Phillips head screwdriver, not to mention an electron microscope to see the nano-screws, to assemble a baby bathtub. Perhaps bathing little Penny in our new kitchen sink will do just fine. After all, even though it came from Ikea, no assembly was required.

Basics

2006-10-31T08:32:00.000-05:00

As new parents, we have discovered that there are multiple approaches to assist mom’s transition back into the workplace.

As previously mentioned, Dad taking the second shift at home has contributed to mom’s sanity, since she knows Penny is at home with a parent. A good friend has given to mom a subscription to Working Mother magazine, which gives countless tips on getting out of the house with matching shoes and working from home effectively.

And there is one invaluable lesson we felt obliged to share in video form (New Parent goes New Media!). Please play the clip below, or if you don’t see the box below, c lick here link to be directed to the youtube site .

Say Cheese!

2006-10-24T14:33:00.000-04:00

We had many thoughts about what would be the hardest part of the baby to keep clean. It turns out that the number one, hardest, most unreachable place to keep clean is nowhere near where the new parent would expect.

It is the neck. An amazing amount of milk flows from the mouth, across the cheeks, and into the inpenetrable recesses of an infant's neck. In fact, so much milk lodges in the folds that we could probably launch our own boutique line of aged cheese. Of course, at this point the oldest cheese would only be a little over three months.

But back to the issue at hand. Cleaning Penny's neck makes us feel like intrepid explorers, bravely charting the neck reaches where no one has gone before. Occasionally we hit the jackpot, finding a Comstock Lode of milky residue. Every bath is like an adventure in geological archaeology, as we quietly chip off layer after layer of curdled leftovers.

The new parent employs almost any means at their disposal in the attempt to stop the cheesy buildup at its source, using everything from bibs to cloth diapers in an effort to build a dam against the inevitable flow. Unfortunately, the milky tides are against us. Perhaps it is time for us to abandon ship, let the rivers flow, and enjoy bath time's discoveries that much more.

In retrospect...(you know, hindsight and all that)

2006-10-16T19:43:00.000-04:00

You may be wondering why you haven't heard from us for a while. The answer is simple -- during the last two weeks, we have made a series of rookie, new parent mistakes that should suffice to fulfill our new parent bad karma for at least a year or so.

Let's set the stage: three months of FMLA is up, and it's time for Mom to go back to work (on her birthday and a national holiday, no less). What is a new parent to do? We thought, and actually still think, that we were pretty clever. We developed this elaborate scheme in which Mom would take the first three month shift, and then Dad would follow for the next three months.

It turns out, that when you take away Mom, who has only been away from baby for no more than six hours since birth, and combine it with an underdeveloped ability to drink from a bottle, you create a confluence of circumstances not conducive to parental mental health.

The good news is that everyone quickly learned what to do. Penny now drinks from a bottle like a champ, and she and Dad have developed a good rapport (not that one didn't exist before, but now that he's home all day it's a little different).

The lesson for future new parents (and the humor for the old-hat parent) is that you should probably plan ahead for abrupt changes in personnel and routine. Just because we had it all figured out, didn't mean that Penny was in the loop. In the future, we'll be sure to "cc" her on all important logistical arrangements.

All this is in actuality a long apology -- we promise to return to our regular weekly posting schedule, particularly now that Dad has figured out how to type one-handed while propping a bottle up with his chin.

Road Trip: Destination...Delaware

2006-10-03T16:36:00.000-04:00

This past weekend we took Penny on her first road trip. The preparation was filled with anticipation and anxiety. Would we pack too much to fit in the Mini? Would Penny cry the whole way there (not to mention the return trip)? How would she do in the hotel? How would she do at the wedding?

We thought this would make an excellent New Parent blog posting. Unfortunately, we have nothing to say. We fit into the Mini perfectly – including two large boxes that constituted the wedding present. Penny slept the entire way there. She slept completely through the wedding reception. She slept most of the way back, with a little bit of crying in the perpetual I-95 Delaware Traffic Jam. (What’s with that? I-95 only runs through Delaware for something like 11 miles. And it’s a toll road to boot - $3.00 equals 27.3 cents/mile. You’d think they could figure out how to manage it without causing huge traffic jams, but no. Click here for more on I-95 through Delaware, including instructions on how to dodge the toll.)

I suppose the moral of the story is that Penny is pretty portable at the moment, so we should probably not worry too much about traveling with her…yet. We’ll be sure to post an update when she (a) grows some lung capacity and finds the natural frequency of the Mini, or at least whatever bridge we may be traveling across, causing something to implode, or (b) gets mobile, making the whole corralling aspect of a wedding reception that much more fun.

For the record, the wedding and bride were beautiful, it was great to catch up with friends and meet new people, and Penny was totally cute in her little pink tights.

Protective Parents?

2006-09-25T10:36:00.000-04:00

Let us paint you a picture: sitting in a driveway is a black and white Mini Cooper. Through the large windows you see dad, in the drivers seat, mom in the back, sitting next to a small baby in a car seat. The car is running but still in park. You can’t hear what music might be on the radio but it appears as though mom and dad are enjoying a Gypsy Kings recording as they clap their hands above their heads…to the left side…and to the right. Upon closer inspection there doesn’t seem to be a rhythm to their movements and if you could hear inside the car, you’d hear mutterings from both parents beneath the sound of a baby wailing: “Did you get it? Oh! There’s another one! Hah! I smacked it! Die you disease-carrying bloodsucking mosquito!”

And another scenario: mom has her little baby in her Ergo carrier and is browsing through racks at a shop near Dupont Circle. A few feet away, a woman notices mom and babe and exclaims, “Oh! What a teeny baby! How old is she?” The complete stranger proceeds to fondle the baby’s exposed leg and pull back on the carrier to get a better look at the sleeping baby’s face. She says to her daughter, “Come look at this little baby!” At this point three thoughts or rather, scenarios go through the mother’s mind:

(A) Clutch the baby to your chest, locate the nearest exit and escape, now!
(B) Politely say to the woman: “May I offer you some hand sanitizer so that you may continue to paw at my newborn?”
(C) Securing the baby with one arm, roundhouse kick (see Chuck Norris) the woman while screaming, “get your hands off my baby!”

D Cells C Cells, the AAA No More?

2006-09-15T10:09:00.000-04:00

We thought we had seen the last of the D cell battery when our boom box left over from the 80’s finally gave up the ghost, bleeding green and crusted alkaline from it’s plastic innards.

I mean, come on, who uses D cell batteries anymore, right? When was the last time you used anything other than a AA, AAA, or even occasionally a C? For that matter, when was the last time you used a disposable battery at all?

It turns out that the D cell remains the primary power supply for childrens’ devices. We got a fancy new mobile for Penny, and it takes four D cell batteries. Not one, not two, not three, but four of the behemoths. A friend has a child that liked to sleep in an automatic swing – they went through hundreds of the venerable D cell. My iPod has run for more than two years on a rechargeable battery 1/100 the size of what is required by these basic motorized devices.

In the spirit of our investigative mandate, we checked into the D cell. It was invented in 1896 to power what was then the hippest fashion accessory, the flashlight (click here for a history of the flashlight). It’s immediate predecessor, the #6 battery, weighed in at around three pounds at six inches in height (click here for a history of the battery).

Think about it – the most cutting edge devices we use to educate and entertain our children employ technology created in 1896. Is there anything else we use in our everyday lives that has not changed much since 1896? Even the Constitution was last updated on May 5, 1992!

Couldn’t toy manufacturers use a little imagination and figure out how to juice up their devices with a little less power? After all, they’ve certainly figured out how to miniaturize the little screws that you have to get past just to change the battery (a story for another day – why do these devices require the smallest screwdriver possible to open the battery compartment? Fisher Price My First Nano-Technology?).

Maybe Hasbro et al. are just trying to "keep it real." Maybe it is all just a nod to the various vintage crazes that periodically sweep the nation. Maybe there is a deeply rooted conspiracy between toy and battery manufacturers to keep the D alive. Whatever the reason, if you long for the days when D cells ruled the world, become a new parent, and you’ll find yourself awash in your stubby, familiar friends.

Mommy Memory

2006-09-14T13:09:00.000-04:00

This week’s entry is a slight departure from our typical focus on Penny and the trials and tribulations of both parents. But don’t worry, we’ll still include a cute photo of the baby.

During pregnancy, most women experience a slight lapse in mental functioning, typically manifesting in memory loss. The clinical term for this condition is “pregnancy stupids” —just kidding—and often sounds like the following. “Honey, do you know what happened to the…um…the stuff made of crushed nuts?” “Peanut butter?” “Yeah! That’s it!” Unfortunately, and much to the dismay of the woman’s partner, this condition continues postpartum.

One girlfriend offered a possible explanation. With the myriad concurrent thoughts vying for mom’s attention—e.g. baby, husband, dog, blog entries—there’s no way she can carry on a coherent conversation or put together a complete thought…unless she’s discussing her child’s medical history.

Since giving birth, I often have trouble completing a sentence, but after accompanying Penny to multiple doctor visits, I can give a detailed overview of Penny’s positioning issues. And when I speak with girlfriends about their pregnancies and births, these women sound like third year medical students.

So why do our hormones toy with us in such a bizarre fashion? I suppose this is again nature’s way of laying groundwork, preparing for the inevitable. Sooner or later mom will graduate from Mom academy and become “Dr. Mom,” the healer of colds, remover of splinters.

What Not to Wear

2006-09-06T14:24:00.000-04:00

One of the great things about being a new parent is dressing your baby. Penny received numerous adorable outfits from family and friends, many of which we’re anxious for her to get large enough to wear. We have many favorites, and the outfits complement her fine features and chubby physique. The onesies, dresses, jumpers, pajamas, sweaters, and little-widdle sockies all range from the ridiculously cute to the ridiculous.

For example, Tony’s sister handed down a pair of red and white stripped pants. They look like the bottom half of a sans-culottes or part of a costume some poor Pirates of the Caribbean ride operator would have to wear (see photos below). No adult would ever dream of wearing such an unflattering piece of clothing, but we love dressing her in the abominations. Her legs look even chubbier—her diaper clad butt, even bigger. And the best part is, she has no idea how silly she appears. Or maybe the point is, she could care less.

Penny only cares about sleeping, eating and being held. She enjoys staring at interesting patterns, especially the quilt her great aunt made her, and smiling at the silly faces mom and dad make. So maybe it’s not that we enjoy dressing her in embarrassing clothing but that we enjoy her lack of concern over such trivial matters.

Dog Days of August

2006-08-25T09:47:00.000-04:00

One of the first pictures we sent around after Penny showed up was of our whole family, including Newman, formerly known as our "first born." We got an unexpected response from the picture - that Newman looked forlorn and anxious about his newfound role in our nuclear family.

Would he continue to be top dog? How would this affect his walkies schedule? Will he in fact ever catch that dastardly mail man? These were just a few of the many questions Newman seemed to be asking. (The photo in question is above. To be fair, he had just gotten a haircut, so you can actually see his eyes for a change.)

Now, there is a lot of talk about how to introduce your pet to a newborn (See here for the Humane Society's version). What they don't tell you is that it is really you that needs to prepare yourself for the transition, not Rover.

The problem here is that neither the baby nor the dog can speak for themselves. That means that we need to speak for them, of course. We need to read as much as possible into their expressions to determine just what it is they really feel. We like to call this "canine conjecture," and "infant oracle."

We spent the first few weeks anxiously watching Newman for any sign of rebellion, acceptance, or even intransigence. Apart from a sniff at the diaper here and there, the only effect on Newman seems to be that one of us is home all the time. That and he gets to ride in the front seat of the car now. (He also has a really endearing habit of getting worried anytime Penny cries.) It helps that Newman is a preternaturally good dog, weighing in at only 20 pounds.

All of this is to say that we as a society clearly have way too much time to worry about these things. Would we get rid of Newman if he growled at Penny? No way - we'd find a way to make it work. And we certainly wouldn't get rid of Penny for pulling Newman's tail.

The fact is that our pack is now one member larger. Newman gets to eat whatever falls under the highchair; Penny gets a playmate and protector; and we all get to be a happy family, regardless of what the experts warn us to expect.

Just Like Mom and Dad

2006-08-20T11:28:00.000-04:00

Once again we explore the not-so-complex particulars of our daughter’s digestive system. This is a subject the baby books do cover in great length:

The digestive system exclamations that frequently explode from a newborn’s tiny bottom, at least as emphatically as the grown-up variety, can be unsettling—and sometimes embarrassing—to parents. But, like explosive bowel movements, they are perfectly normal (Murkoff, Heidi, Arlene Eisenberg, Sandee Hathaway. What to Expect the First Year, Workman Publishing, Inc., 2003).

However, it’s still surprising—not the frequency our child “makes wind” or the incredible adult-like volume, but our reaction. We cheer her on, exclaiming after each outburst: “that’s my girl!” or “good one!” and sometimes “was that you or Penny?”

Of course, we’re more discreet in polite company, but still just as proud that her five-week-old digestive track is functioning so…so…audibly.

In spite of any flatulence, Penny is “passed” around at a recent family gathering:

Code Green

2006-08-14T13:44:00.000-04:00

First, some housekeeping. Now that we're a little over a month into this enterprise, it is evident that our posting schedule will be approximately once a week. If you'd like us to send you a notice about new postings, drop us a line (newparentblog@yahoo.com). Don't forget, if you have a question, challenge, or issue that could be a good subject for our team's investigative prowess, let us know.

So, today's subject: Poop color. Before you send your favorite potty jokes or make a comment about how juvenile the subject may be, think of this - baby books devote pages and pages to the bowel offerings of our offspring (click here for an example).

For the new parent, the diversity in the diaper is rather unsettling. After all, we are all pretty much experts in the art of the bowel movement, and have had extensive experience discussing things like consistency, color, etc (particularly if you ever lived in a men's freshman dormitory).

But what happens when what comes out of baby is more primary color than subtractive? What is the new parent to think?

As it turns out, one is to think nothing at all. Apparently, the color charts found in the books are just as useless as other color coded warning systems we hear so much about. It doesn't matter what color it is, as long as it is consistently that color.

Couldn't they have told us that in the first place? Of course, as a society, what would we have to talk about, if not for the bowels.

A new poll:

Time Suckage

2006-08-07T17:45:00.000-04:00

We have always been industrious people, especially on the weekends. One weekend during the winter, we suddenly decided to renovate a basement bedroom, which entailed ripping up carpet, laying tile, applying two coats of paint and replacing ceiling panels – all in about 36 hours. Our elderly neighbor has frequently commented that she believes we lie awake at night dreaming up new projects to tackle.

Now, the baby books are clear on what new parents should expect in the first few months: don’t worry about keeping the house spotless; let friends and family bring you meals; focus on getting lots of rest. What they don’t describe is the black hole into which the hours slip each day, especially on the weekends. By the time baby is fed, changed and dressed, it’s close to 9:00 a.m.; then comes coffee, breakfast and the newspaper – 11:00 a.m. It’s past 2:00 p.m. by the time your spouse asks, “What do you want to do today?” Another day has miraculously passed with little accomplished other than an occasional errand.

We’re not complaining. I’m sure that when child #2 comes along, we’ll look back on this leisure with fondness. But we have a leading theory to explain the time suckage: boob suckage.

Footloose

2006-07-31T10:27:00.000-04:00

Ok, today we really get into the dirty (literally) little secrets nobody ever tells the new parent. Those of us in that category never learn these important secrets until it is entirely too late to make a difference.

Today we present an expose on the following: You have to remove baby's socks when you are changing a diaper.

I ran this by my sister, at this point a grand master in the art of the diaper change, and she said, "Yeah, of course. Otherwise they get poop on their sock." Thanks for the timely advice, sis.

Unfortunately, none of the instructions and advice given to the new parent addresses this seemingly important element of the diaper change. (See here, for example. Notice the conspicuously missing step).

I think that is all that we have to say on the subject at this point. We have some laundry to do.

Scrub-a-duba

2006-07-26T11:25:00.000-04:00

You may be curious why the posting hiatus. The simple explanation: New Parent has turned from a theoretical exercise into a practical experiment. Penelope Jane finally joined us on July 15, 2006.

Weighing in at 9lbs 1.5oz, Penny ensured that fun was had by all in the labor and delivery room.

All you may ask? Well, since you asked, no, not actually. One of the participants arrived improperly dressed, which is the subject of this installment. That's right, one of us was not like the others.

This was not actually brought to my attention until after the fact, when one of the principals, the mother, remarked that during a lull in the action she looked around and noticed that all of the people in the room had on surgical scrubs. All, that is, except for the father-to-be.

There we were, the mother in the hospital gown, the nurse in scrubs, the doctor in scrubs, the doula in scrubs, and the dad in the tee-shirt and shorts that he had been wearing for the past two days. To top it off, he had made a bad choice in footwear, choosing sandals, which had been discarded earlier in the day.

So, make sure you have this pictured just right. The dad was barefoot in dirty, days old clothes.

Whatever happened to the dad rushing out of the delivery room, fully clad head to toe in the latest in hospital fashion to give the good news to the family (see, for example, the closing scene of Parenthood).

For the fashionista fathers among we have just this small bit of advice. If you want to fit in, if you want to be one of the cool kids, if you want to get really comfy, be sure to arrive prepared with your very own set of scrubs. Apparently, everyone is doing it.

Wither the Birth Plan?

2006-07-12T09:27:00.000-04:00

Today's topic: The birth plan.

In today's frenzied prenatal environment, tremendous pressure is placed, particularly on the Mother, to develop a comprehensive birth plan (click here for a Google search on birth plans). The idea is that you put together a document that addresses how you feel about different precedures and techniques that pertain to the labor and delivery process and present it to your midwife/doula/practitioner to help guide your care. What a great idea! You get to tell them exactly how you want this thing to go down.

The problem is that it doesn't really work that way. Our exhaustive research, involving a sample set of three (including us as the control), proves that the birth plan is thrown out the window 100% of the time.

Worse, the plan gives you a false impression of how it will all work, and can make you feel like a failure if you have to deviate, almost always for a problem beyond your control.

So, our simple proposal is this: Pregnant Women of the World, Unite! Throw off the chains of societal pressure and grasp the inherent Machiavellian nature of this process. The end unequivocally justifies the means. This is not to say that you shouldn't plan or have certain goals that pertain to how you want to deliver. Rather, focus on what is also a huge challenge: dealing with a new life after birth (labor lasts upwards of 18 hours, the new child's life expectancy is eighty-some years).

(The focus on the birth seems to be part of a bizarre fascination in our society with singular events that are supposed to define our lives: witness the importance of the wedding day versus the longevity of the marriage. Probably a topic for another conversation.).

Therefore, we present a new template for the birth plan:

Name:
Anticipated Due Date: (Keep in mind that this is by no means an accurate prediction)
If you have the choice, would you prefer to attempt a natural birth, or are you interested in pain relief options?
Have you read, and do you understand all of the various issues that arise during labor and delivery, and have you discussed with your midwife/doula/practioner how they normally deal with them?
In the end, is your ultimate goal simply to have a healthy baby?

Boom. Done.

Bonus feature!!! We will begin to feature polls that address the hottest topics of the day. The results will be treated as absolutely accurate, with no margin of error.

The Birth of the New Parent

2006-07-10T15:48:00.000-04:00

Congratulations! You have joined the vast hordes of netizens interested in what we have to say!

What we have to say is this: how is it possible that children, and by extension parents, have been around for several millenia, yet those of us who embark on the adventure of parenthood have absolutely no idea what is in store.

For example: Today is the eighth day after our projected due date. Of course this is entirely normal, but the fact that we've missed an expected milestone elevates our concern and anxiety. What did we do wrong?

Now, we understand that the due date is the best projection of birth modern medicine has to offer, and is derived from an exhaustive formula that takes in to consideration lunar cycle, sign of the Zodiac, pollen count, legislative district, and, of course, wind chill factor (click here for more info about due date calculations). But how is it that society has taught us to anticipate that the date is a real, tangible prediction of when our daughter would arrive?

This blog is dedicated to uncovering the myths and misinformation that confront the new parent at every turn. We will closely examine instances and accidents to bring you, dear reader, a concise look at how expections meet reality, and how we deal with it in our usual suave and sophisticated manner. Have a question you'd like investigated? Send us a comment, and we'll dedicate our investigative team to an exhaustive (quite literally) search for the truth!

So, stay tuned, and let the games begin!

At what age did your kids finally ditch the bottle?
	One year
	18 months; I feel your pain.
	Two years; We just couldnt do it!
	Five years; I find a bottle still soothes and comforts me.

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How long did you or your children suffer with cradle cap?
	My children are hygienic angles; they never had it.
	I was bald past one, so it was easy for my parents to eradicate.
	My children still have it.
	I still do not wear black.
	What is cradle cap?

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At what age is it okay for kids to curse in front of their parents?
	16 - They’re doing it at school anyway.
	18 - They’re adults.
	25 - If they can run for Congress, they should be able to curse.
	>26 - Not until they have teenagers of their own …and really have something to curse about!

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What is/was your child’s favorite toy…really?
	Any kind of paper, especially tissue or wrapping paper
	The cordless phone or my cell phone
	The remote control
	Anything I'm holding

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How would you describe the temperature in our house?
	Just right – A Spartan lifestyle will make Penny appreciate her environment that much more
	Perfect for storing sushi
	There was more snow inside than out this year
	The National Zoo should annex your living room as part of their new polar bear habitat

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What would you like the toy fairy to bring to you?
	A bottle of 1990 Château Margaux
	Two extra hours of sleep
	1966 Pontiac GTO
	A pair of Jimmy Choos
	Pancakes...every day

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What would you do to get some alone time:
	Deworm orphans in developing countries
	Work on an equation that succinctly situates the place of the human mind in physical time and space
	Call tech support (any product)
	Nothing at all – hand over the kid

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Did you have a flu shot this year?
	Yes; I am invincible!
	Yes, but a lot of good it did me as I have already gotten sick.
	No, bring it on, baby!
	No, excuse me; I think I feel something coming on.

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Help us name the pneumatic diaper disposal system:
	Crap Chute
	Diaper Suck
	Diaper-B-Gone
	Super Psychadelic Magic Diaper Vac

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How many films are referenced in this posting?
	None
	Two
	Thrice is the number
	Four
	Five

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What cheesy product would you like to see on market shelves near you?
	Chubby Cheeks Cheddar
	Baby Brie
	Pretty Penny Parmesian
	Little Girl Gorgonzola

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What does Penny think "cc" means?
	Crying and Cranky
	Cute and Cuddly
	Corporate Cruelty
	Copious Colostrum

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What does Newman think "cc" means?
	Crunchy Crickets
	Chewy Critters
	Crazy Cats
	Copious Chicken

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So, are we being overly protective? (Check all that apply.)
	No, babies are lunatic magnets.
	Yes, if you take a baby out, you have to expect the lunatics to come out.
	No, boy I could tell you some stories about some lunatics who wanted to hold my newborn.
	Yes, a little West Nile Virus will just make her hardier.
	No, in fact, you should probably consider moving out of that swamp they like to call our Nation’s Capital.

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Test your Mommy Memory! Without looking, what was the first word of this blog entry?
	The
	This
	During
	...um...
	Aw, come on! I’m not pregnant and there’s still no way I’d remember that!

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Test you canine conjecture skills! What is Newman thinking in the family photo?
	My life as I knew it is over.
	Will I ever get walkies again?
	This diaper thingy sure smells good.
	Did someone say, "chicken?"

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In the best of all possible worlds, what would be your choice of poo color?
	Good old American brown
	All the colors of the rainbow
	Commie pinko
	Orange sherbet
	It ain't easy being green

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Did you create a birth plan?
	Yes, it worked out exactly as we planned.
	Yes, but circumstances forced us to change.
	No, but we wish we had.
	No, we didn't think it was necessary
	No. That sounds like some new-fangled touchy feely thing. I tell you, kids these days.

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