July 2008 - Posts

• On a serious note: Losing a Child

  My heart is heavy today. I was given the saddest news.    An old friend from college had been out of touch for a year or so. I had emailed him several times over the year, sent his family a Christmas card, and for the last three days had been thinking about him, determined to get back in touch. I sent another email yesterday asking about him and his famiy.  A few minutes later the phone rang -- he asked if it was a good time to talk. He then told me he just lost his 3 year old daughter to cancer.   When she was two, E was giving her parents a difficult time, throwing tantrums, screaming. They thought it was just typical toddler behavior. Then an odd thing happened. Her left eye began to turn inward. The doctors found a tumor on her cheek bone that had reached around her eye socket and ultimately grew into her brain. Called "Rhabdomyosarcoma" it is extremely rare. There are only about 200 new cases per year in the US, and it only afflicts children. By the time my friends discovered E's tumor it was already stage 4, and virtually incurable.   E endured ongoing treatments, in and out of the hospital, losing her hair, becoming weak. With a younger sibling for company E initially enjoyed and then only tolerated playful antics. T is a year younger and just wanted to interact with her sister like she always has. It was only a year after the diagnosis that E ultimately fell into a comatose state, and passed away just 12 days ago.   What can I say about this? As a parent I am gut-wrenched. I cannot imagine how they went through the entire ordeal. The shock of the discovery, the horrific news that it was stage 4, the despair at not being to heal your child, not being able to save her. The difficult decision to tell her what was happening, that she was going to die. And then saying goodbye, rocking her to sleep with her favorite lullabies. Only 3 years of life. Only 3 years to experience everything this world and her parents had to offer.    What could be worse than losing your child? I wrote them a card and told them I knew there was little to nothing I could do to comfort them at this time. But that every time I hold The Bees, every time I feed her, change her, read to her, sing or play games with her, I am honoring their daughter.   My head hurts thinking about it. The weight of their pain is sinking down through my body into the ground.   Posted Jul 30 2008, 08:11 AM by districtmom with 1 comment(s) Filed under: baby, toddler, child, doctor, chemo, tumor, healing, sarcoma, cancer, rhabdomysarcoma, rhabdomyosarcoma [Edit Tags]

• Wrangling With The Car Seat

  Seems like I frequently write about fighting with child apparatus. It can't be any sort of deficiency on my part. It's got to be that this equipment is simply poorly designed, malfunctioning and created to vex me.   Two weeks ago I noticed The Bees' knees were bent in order to fit into her car seat. Though she's not yet 20 lbs and well over a year old, it was indeed time to upgrade to the next seat. I didn't know selecting a seat would be so complicated, not to mention installing it.   We needed a car seat in which she would still be rear-facing until she passes the 20lb mark (or 22 whatever it is). We needed it to then be forward facing so she could continue to use it for the next few years. We also needed it to possibly recline so that some day, should she once again agree to embark on a long road trip with us, she could potentially lie back and enjoy the ride. I know that's asking alot.   I surveyed my friends, and most said Britax, that Britax Marathon was the best. Thing is, I learned that this brand is very expensive, heavy and also not all car seats fit into airline seats, and this would be a big problem for us, as we travel frequently. So now I needed something on the small side as well. I decided to look East, across the Atlantic, and found Maxi Cosi. Luckily I didn't have to travel far to get it, in fact one was available for me right here in this country and was shipped 2 day. We arrived home from our trip to Chattanooga, opened the door and saw the box in the front hall. One corner was crushed in and torn, looking like an ominous mouth with jagged teeth. I should recognized the enemy right away. Instead, I cheerfully opened the box, pulled out the bright red and chocolate striped seat with its belts and latches a-clanging. "Oooh it's so pretty" I exclaimed. "Bees don't you just LOVE your new car seat?"   She agreed to try it out on the living room floor, and looked quite comfortable.    When CB came home from work I took the Bees up to bed and called down to him "Can you just help me put the shoulder straps up higher and I'll do the rest". A half hour later I came downstairs to find CB breathing smoke and cursing over the large awkward seat upside down in his lap.  "!*&^%$$##!!!! Of course you have to order the most difficult carseat in the world" he says "You can't just get a simple one, easy to figure out".   He was right. In order to adjust the shoulder straps you have to slam your hand into a tiny crevice in the back of the seat, twist it this way and that, tugging on a strap until you find this metal latch. You realize the latch is far away from your hand. You ootch your hand in, immediately encountering enormous resistance and sharp plastic parts that scratch you and squeeze your bones. Because you have smallish hands you persist in pushing along until you get the latch and then you drag it back, doing more damage to your skin along the way. You get the harness adjusted and CB says "Good. You're all set then". And he leaves town.   Next day you crouch down on the living room floor to get the seat latches positioned on either side of the seat. Deja vu: once again you are thrusting your little fragile hand into this crevice and pushing the metal latch all the way through - but this is not easy in the Maxi Cosi because THERE IS NOT ENOUGH SPACE FOR YOUR HAND. Seriously. No one even thought well our customers might encounter deadly risk by trying to install this thing.    Now you are sweating but you've got one latch on either side.You carry it out to the car,  put the seat in the car and attempt to hook the latches onto the bar down between the cushions. NO GO. You try and try and try.  It will not clamp on. So you decide to just strap it in with the seat belt. What?!! Ok in order to do this you have to ONCE AGAIN shove your hand back into the same crevice with this other belt and feed it all along the way to the other side. The whole thing is a nightmare. Half way through I glanced back and saw The Bees standing next to the dog inside the glass storm door of the house, her hands beating on the door, crying. I had to bring her out, sit her down inside the old infant car seat next to the car so she could watch me go through this charade. It was at least 30 minutes.   Needless to say, I don't think I have it installed correctly and since we are traveling to Maine in a few weeks now I've got to get another seat that can be easily strapped in and out of anyone's car in a matter of minutes, not hours. We are about to embark on the dreaded experience of research, purchase, adjustment and installation all over again.   Posted Jul 28 2008, 07:33 AM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: baby, toddler, airplane, infant, child, car seat, airline, cushion, latch, Maine, belt, vehicle, Maxi Cosi, Marathon, apparatus, car, equipment, ride, Britax [Edit Tags]

• Bullied by the Diaper Genie

  All diaper genies are not created equal. There are the Glorious Saviors and there are the Evil Bullies. Do yourself and your whole family and all your friends a favor. Don't buy a Diaper Genie. Buy the Diaper Genie II, or anything else under the sun including just the plain old trash pail. It's not that the Diaper Genie II is revolutionary or magic, it's just that it is gets the job done.   Here's what happens with the original Diaper Genie. He is a nasty dirty man! First of all, in the midst of your pre-natal frantic shopping spree or baby shower you get the DIaper Genie tower. What do you know? It's at the front of the diaper section, it's tall and white. It's the original so it must be good right? Well listen up - (I know this is so riveting isn't it) it's not good at all.   Diaper Genies seem cheap at $19.99 but they don't come with their own bag coils so you have to buy them separately at around $9 each. That's how they get you. You might as well buy about 100 of these coils, as you will need them. You put the coil in, tie a knot at the end of the bag and then your first poopy diaper arrives. You shove it into the tower and somehow the noxious fumes emanate out and fill the room. You realize you haven't pushed it in far enough. You have to persevere until your elbow is inside the tower before the diaper goes down. Then you close the top and you twist twist the top, supposedly this seals in the fumes? Then there is a built in scissor operation where you press it and it's supposed to cut the bag. But it never does. it cuts half the bag and leaves the rest a chomped up raggedy mess that you have to go in and deal with. Then there are these plastic ties that were supposed to tie it up - I don't know . I think they all fell out the first week I used it.     None of this has ever worked. Basically you squish your dirty diapers in one after another, it just continues to stink and stink until your guests give you weird looks and even the dog walks around with her tail tucked under.  You just fill it up with enough dirty diapers that its worth it to just empty the whole bag and start again. It's awful. Why this is the one in our den, adjoining our dining room and only a stones throw away from our kitchen, I don't know.   Now we come to the Diaper Genie II. At $24.99 it is worth the extra five dollars believe me. This one is in our nursery. You have a dirty diaper. You lift up the lip, push the diaper in, you feel the tight clamp of the flap as it shuts down on that nastiness. It has sucked it away from you. it's gone. To another world you don't want to visit. And you won't even think of it again until many weeks and many diapers later (40? 50?) when the thing is surprisingly full, you open up the tower and there is a long rewarding snake of wadded up diaper balls. I like to take my snake and throw it down the stairs, watching as it bounces and flips head over tail to the bottom. Quite satisfying.   Why is it that it's been a year and 1/2 and I'm still complaining about the original Diaper Genie. You'd think I would just spend the $19.99 and buy a second Diaper Genie II.  But then I'd have nothing to write about. Posted Jul 27 2008, 04:56 PM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: baby, toddler, infant, shower, dog, diapers, pre-natal, pail, trash, poopy, genie, garbage, magic, nursery [Edit Tags]

• My Baby is Better Than Yours

  We all like to compare our children. I suppose some need to boast that their child is smarter, quicker, and more agile than her peers. Well I know for a fact that The Bees is. But some of my friends also fear that their child might in some way be lagging developmentally so they thrive on quizzing me about The Bees.   Is she walking? "Oh yes, she's been walking since about 3 months old. Running at 6 months. She actually does hurdles now". Is she talking?  "Why yes, well maybe not right now, but at home she has a full vocabulary. She can ask for whatever she wants, we have lively conversations. She could negotiate a middle east peace treaty".  She looks a little underweight. "Oh no, She's just not a fatty pants like yours".   I have no idea why no one else understands what The Bees is saying. They're all so dumb. When The Bees says "DAH!" I know immediately whether she's talking about her father, her dog, the famous Dora, a passing bird, or going down a step. It's clear that "bbbbbbwoooah bbbwooah" is "water. And obviously  "Zzzzzhhhhhaa Zzzzzzhhhaaaa" is "Lovey". What? You don't know what "Ppphhhllll! Pppphllllllll!" is? Why it's "caterpillar", silly. Posted Jul 24 2008, 07:29 AM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: language, baby, toddler, infant, child, Dora, development, fat, weight, lovey, quiz, smart, walking, compete, words, talking, caterpillar [Edit Tags]

• Murphy's Law of Napping

  Its Murphy's Law that on the day when you have two doctor appointments for yourself that you've skillfully scheduled in between her nap hours you cannot seem to get your baby to nap. You know you are going to pay for it big time when exactly 15 minutes before you are due to appear in your doctor's office your child starts to have an enormous meltdown. As you arrive at the parking garage the Tylenol you gave her this morning for whatever ails her is just now starting to take affect. She is now sleepier than she has been all day, and crankier, but just not able to pass out.   There is nothing you can do but hoist her over your shoulder and carry her into the office where she cries and rubs her eyes and kicks and flops on her back and sort of accordions herself around the waiting room. In the examining room you must wait another 10 minutes for the doctor to arrive. You let her play with various utensils, trying to wipe everything clean afterwards. She does not like it when you hop up on the examining table so she must sit on your lap as you endure a shot or two ("stay very still" he asks, as if you have any control over this cranky bucking thing.   You arrive home and she clamors to get in the Elmo pool (old faded scratched plastic kiddie pool, a hand-me-down from a friend). You turn around to get the bug stuff and she has already been bitten 8 times on the arms, face and legs. AGH! You rub her with the smelly Deet-free cream, and watch alarmed as the existing bites blow up to the size of quarters, each and every one. You trudge around to the side of the house, willing any snakes to disappear, and turn on the hose. You fill up the Elmo pool, she hops in, squats and leaves three trails of brown sludge. You empty the pool, wash it out, fill it again. She hops in and crouches down and leaves another small lump of sludge.   You heave a sigh, pull her out to great wails and admonishments, and carry her in. You get the Anti-Itch cream for her wounds and she leans over to bite you on the shoulder. You stomp upstairs, rock for 5 minutes and throw her into the crib. Silence. It's nap time, finally.   Posted Jul 23 2008, 08:14 AM by districtmom with 1 comment(s) Filed under: baby, toddler, infant, office, Deet, doctor, nap, crib, sleep, Elmo, tylenol, bug spray, murphy's law [Edit Tags]

• Where to Take Your Beast to Eat

  I notice that many of my articles are about food and eating. I thought the obsession would fade after giving birth. Then I thought it would subside as I weaned. Now I see, it's just good old me again. As I munch another sandwich cookie.   When she was a newborn we took The Bees to S&W (that's Smith & Wollensky for all you neophytes). A favorite haunt for CB, S&W offers enormous steaks, enormous side dishes and very strong vodka tonics. It also boasts outdoor seating under lighted trees, an outdoor bar and heat lamps in chilly weather. Though I'm not a meat-lover and rarely progress past the shellfish appetizer, the sidewalk ambience is the draw for me here. Shielded by shrubs from passersby I could nurse the baby, hiding the booby while still enjoying the scene at the bar and in the restaurant. Also, when your baby is howling and you are bobbing and hopping and waltzing around with your Baby Bjorn hardly anyone notices.   Once your kid is less inclined to sleep, Guapos is a good place to take her. It's boisterous, the lighting is good, the food is quite good. If you ask they will put together a few side items or bites of chicken for your toddler. More importantly while you are slurping down your Cuervo margarita they come around every 10 minutes or so and cheerfully sweep away the mounting debris under the high chair. On a recent occasion The Bees emptied not one but two full plastic mugs of water onto the floor. This puddle, combined with the shredded pollo, black beans and fragments of tortilla chips made for a hearty clean up, or next-day mexican soup. A bonus at Guapo's is that if your child is really antsy you can take her to watch soccer at the bar, or even better, gaze at the tortillas as they flip along the toaster conveyor belt.   D.C. Boathouse is a small neighborhood joint decorated with rowing gear. When I was pregnant we frequented often, CB snarfling the burger and fries, I would get a tuna salad with a tall lemonade (empty calories but "the baby wants it" I claimed) and I'd pick at his fries (that doesn't count). Several times we perched at the bar near other expecting couples and compared notes on Sibley's Prenatal Education courses. During the day The Boathouse is a lively lunch destination, the perfect place to go with a baby or toddler. On the second and fourth Wednesday of every month you can steer your stroller straight to the back area where three couches create a small lounge. Here you can sit back with 11 other new mothers and rock your baby's car seat with your foot while you sip an ice tea. These days I take The Bees back to the same area where she can sit on the carpeted floor and play with toys. Or just run around. Or climb up on the couch and point in the mirror. The waiter will serve your lunch couch-side, and business people at nearby tables eye you enviously as you lean back into the cushions and dig in.   I'm not yet ready for Chucky Cheese (if ever), so until then, I keep looking for my favorite toddler eatery.   Posted Jul 22 2008, 07:03 PM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: baby, toddler, stroller, booby, hamburger, DC Boathouse, eat, sibley hospital, Chucky Cheese, Smith & Wollensky, neighborhood, S&W, Guapos, shellfish, lemonade, rowing, restaurant [Edit Tags]

• Addendum to the Piece About The Bees' Father

  CB would like me to add an addendum to the piece about him.   First, it's INDIE ROCK he likes, not alternative (what do I know?). Also he doesn't always empty the candy dish into his pocket. Sometimes he only takes 10 or 11 mints.   To be fair, too, I must herewith state what an excellent father he is. Starting in the morning, when he awakes at 6am with the first plaintive cries from the other room. Most of the time she is calling out "Mama" which can be somewhat of a sting to him as he is always the one to rescue her in the wee hours. Though this past weekend we did hear her banter "Mama, Dada".  He takes her downstairs (away from me so she doesn't get any big ideas about N-U-R-S-ing). He makes her breakfast, he plays with her, he reads to her. By 7am I have indulged in my lolling and it's my turn to take over while he gets ready for work.    During the day he calls frequently to check up on The Bees. If he's in town (50% of the time) he would love nothing more than a mid-day visit to his office. Proud as a peacock he marches around his small office, demanding attention from long-suffering staff as he leads her through her party tricks "what does a horse say? what does a rooster say? what does a cat say? what does Peggy Ann (neighbor's dog) say?". If he's looking for a greater audience he'll take her downstairs to Safeway so that all the cashiers can see her. "Where's Daddy? Where's Mommy? Give Daddy a kiss". This last one can be repeated about 50 times in a day. It's no wonder to me that she often ignores him. I'd be annoyed too.   At the end of the day CB will rush to get home to see her. He'll take over the feeding (but not without a quick change of clothes first - nothing can tarnish his good Hickey Freeman made-to-measure). He will lie on the floor encouraging her to dance. Lately he claims she'll do a fine jig to Loverboy's "Jump". As I've mentioned in past articles he will don the Court Jester's hat and leap about, bells-a-ringing, just to get her to smile. Shouting at the dog to get away he is focused completely on his daughter for those moments. We've had issues about watching too much television (particularly when it's a soccer game that he's watching and she is just meandering in and out of the room trying to get his attention). But I don't mind if it's "Cattanooga Cats" or the latest installment of "Dora the Exporer". He'd love her to sit on his lap and snuggle but she is more often found standing with nose pressed to the television screen, bouncing and pointing in excitement.   CB often complains that she won't give him the kisses he demands, that she won't snuggle with him, and that she always wants Mommy. It breaks his heart that sometimes only I can quiet her, calm her. Whether it's bad teething period or whether it's just a stage of anxiety she often opts for me to hold her, me to read to her, me to rock her to sleep. I can't change this, and I do believe that they will have greater bonding experiences in years to come.   Here's the thing: The Bees looks exactly like her father. Therein lies her love and gratitude for him, each and every day.   Posted Jul 22 2008, 07:21 AM by districtmom with 1 comment(s) Filed under: baby, toddler, cat, infant, Daddy, nursing, Dora, Safeway, father, court jester, Indie Rock, Mommy, Dad, Cattanooga, Indy, trick, office, dog, party, bells [Edit Tags]

• About The Bees' Daddy

  CB resents the way he is portrayed in this blog. He would like all of you to know that he doesn't always listen to Van Halen. The only reason he was listening to it (as referenced in my blog "Dancing By the Sea") is because he succumbed to a wave of nostalgia. And the reason why he was nostalgic about that band in particular is because he was reading "The Van Halen Story". Which is not to say that he's a huge Van Halen fan. He wants you all to know his musical taste is more current and that he follows music seriously. He likes all these new alternative bands which I don't know and I have to get up now and go into the living room to look at his CD's to tell you the names: British Sea Power, Afghan Wigs, James, Josh Rouse, Death Cab for Cutie, Pernice Brothers and many others. He reads all the reviews, online and offline, and likes to buy a new album on the first day it's released.   He also wants readers to know that he doesn't always wear a baseball cap, as described in "Hats of All Kinds". He doesn't want to appear to be a Southern rube. Though he is from the south, he does only wear a baseball cap when exercising, walking the dog, out for Sunday brunch, mowing the lawn or mountain climbing, none of which happen on a daily (or even weekly) basis. No, to be fair, if he had his druthers, CB would wear a bowler hat. Though I think a fedora would suit him better. Suit being the operative word. He loves his suits. One thing The Bees will know about her daddy is that he's a dandy.   He also thinks that based on how I describe him, readers will think he's an a**. I don't think so. I think readers will find him to be a funny, idiosyncratic, sympathetic character. Who doesn't like a guy who, when leaving a fine dining establishment, manages to empty the entire mint bowl into his pocket. Readers will be amused to read about a guy who has a vast collection of pocket squares and how he tortures me with questions and challenges about his outfits. "Why do you like this tie over that one? Don't you think this one goes better? This one brings out the blue. Which watch goes with this suit? You see, I disagree. I think this other one looks better". I whimper and roll over in defeat but he won't release me. "Ok what about the socks?"   And there are even more dramatic tales like the one when he got himself crushed in the car door because he released the emergency brake while he was outside (repeat: OUTSIDE) his vehicle.   And this is only in the 2-1/2 years that I have known him. Just think how much material I'll have in another year or two. Posted Jul 15 2008, 07:40 AM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: baby, toddler, Daddy, music, father, pocket square, Death Cab for Cutie, tie, Afghan Wigs, cd, band, Van Halen, Josh Rouse, dandy, South, British Sea Power, watch [Edit Tags]

• Poop Soup

  Please skip to the next article if you are squeamish on the topic of baby  excrement. This is not for the faint of heart.   I must now divulge a few embarrassing incidents that have happened this summer in the swimming season.   We were invited to a friend's for Fathers Day brunch. The brunch was out on the back patio adjoining a grass lawn. The little boy had a large inflatable pool, a tunnel, a tent and a few scooters to offer his visiting friends. I put The Bees into her swim diaper (advertised to hold all spills!), into a pretty bikini and into the pool. We dragged our folding chairs to the side and watched our kids splash around. At some point she crawled out of the pool and stood bouncing, and then crouched down. I thought she was dancing, and then studiously watching the other toddlers frolicking.   Then she climbed back into the pool.   5 minutes later she wanted to get out again, and this time she crawled into the tent they had erected nearby. When I joined her I immediately noticed a strong stench. I peeked into the back of her diaper and up came a brown wave, overflowing from the top of her bikini bottoms. Poop soup spilled into the tent! I hoisted her up and threw her into the grass. At this point another little fellow wanted to join us inside. I grabbed the top of the tent and hurled it away from us. The hosts laughed and shrugged it off.   CB took The Bees under his arm like a sack of potatos and marched upstairs to the changing room. The hostess followed and I assumed everything was under control. Apparently the mess was too much for the changing table so they moved the operation to the shower. There the poop soup flowed out into the tub and CB told me later that it was clogging the drain. He cleaned The Bees off thoroughly in the shower and without a backward glance came back downstairs to rejoin the party.  Later I asked him about the bathroom - he had left the shower for our hostess to clean. I was horrified. I'm sure they had to sterilize not only the tub but also the pool, the tent, and the tunnel. I sent an apology card from The Bees to her hosts.   A few weeks later the same thing happened to me at a private club pool in Arlington. This time she was wearing a swim diaper under a swim bottom that had its own built-in diaper. She crawled out of the pool, bobbed her bottom up and down and then started complaining. Yep, poop soup again! Problem is, unlike a normal diaper, there is no way to take off a swim diaper and contain all that mess inside. Once you start to peel the thing off her it all rolls out, drips out, splatters on her legs, on you and your legs, and you have a situation that rivals the Exxon Valdez. If she were another year older I could have balanced her on the toilet while undergoing this serious operation, but with her bottom the size of a small teacup there was no way. With a quick glance around to see no one coming I was forced to use the shower at the club (it's horrifying, I know!) I don't want to think about all the times I have stepped in barefoot to showers just like that at clubs all over the country!   Let's hope they sterilize these places with lysol. Posted Jul 14 2008, 07:03 AM by districtmom with 2 comment(s) Filed under: baby, toddler, pool, shower, fathers day, diaper, excrement, brunch, tent, poop, host, swim [Edit Tags]

• Feed Your Kid For Free

  There is no need to buy food for your kid. Other than providing a reason to get out of the house, a trip to the grocery store is almost unnecessary. Why? People love to feed a baby. Everywhere you go they will offer her something to eat.   We start in the mornings. Every day we walk down the street to Balduccis www.balduccis.com where I collect my daily ration of caffeine. The Bees likes to wander through the stores, greeting her friends. Here she is known as The Balduccis Baby. She has her friends Valerie and Jackie at the cafe. She has her friends Maria Christina and Edna at the deli. She has Markita and Charmagne at the check out. And Angela and Bridget and Lucia.  At the deli counter Maria Christina comes around the side to dole out a small packet of oyster crackers. On a good day she might also provide a small chicken wing or a latke. At the cheese counter Edna rips into a bag of Italian herb biscuits. If Valerie is enjoying her own breakfast in the cafe she will inevitably give The Bees a bite or two.    At lunchtime we go for a swim at our friend's nearby pool. We meet Christine and her daughter Ava who is carting a snacktrap filled with goldfish. "Mmmmmm" remarks The Bees. Christine has brought pasta and cheese with two bowls and two forks, one for her child and one for mine. The Bees gobbles all of her portion of pasta and all of Ava's too.   After lunch we stop by Safeway at Sangamore for a few necessities. The Bees is squacking so I grab an apple, rub it "clean" on my shorts, and hand it to her. At the check out counter I try to come clean ("please charge we twice for the apple as she has already eaten one"). Unfortunately they can't do it, because apples are charged by weight. Mike directs me to the customer service counter, a ghost town. I wait for about 5 minutes, the tumble weed rolls by. I shrug "oh well" and trundle our cart out the door.   In the evening we make a run for the Glover Park Whole Foods. Here they are offering samples of pizza and chunks of apple cake, squares of parrano cheese and slices of orange.   By 6:30pm The Bees is full and happy, and so is my wallet.   Posted Jul 14 2008, 06:50 AM by districtmom with 1 comment(s) Filed under: baby, toddler, food, Sangamore, apple, wallet, Balduccis, Whole Foods, Glover Park, feed, Safeway [Edit Tags]

• Hats of all Kinds

  Lately The Bees has been obsessed with hats. Although she always tries to yank off whatever is atop her own head she beams and calls out "Hat hat" when I put one myself on to walk the dog. She rejoices in a bonnet on her doll, and the rain hat on Paddington bear. She notes that her small plastic Dora wears a cowboy hat. She loves the court jester hat that we wear to cheer her out of a tantrum, bells a-swinging. She points out hats on every passing stranger. She often associates a baseball cap with CB and mistakenly shouts out "DaDa!" to an alarmed stranger on many occasions.   Recently we were on vacation and she found lots of new hats. In the dining hall the 20 chefs sported tall "toques", the stovepipe shaped ones. Lesser chefs wore the fry-cook hat, a white rowboat atop their heads. We managed to get her one of the rowboat style - even my Dad tried it on. Within minutes she had punched out the top and all that was left was a flattened paper carcass.    At the beach The Bees was interested to see that I was wearing a big floppy sun hat and then she'd point to her own, smiling at the comparison. The resort staff often dressed up in costume to greet you at the dining hall door and one day The Bees even called out at the flowers crowning a dancer's head.   But the best was when we would pass by the fruit bar. Each day she would point at the plume of a pineapple and announce with certainty, "hat hat".   Posted Jul 10 2008, 08:11 AM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: dc, baby, toddler, travel, infant, Dora, Paddington, flower, pineapple, chefs hat, hat, chef, baseball, rowboat, toque [Edit Tags]

• Top 10 Things in Your Carry-On Bag

  When traveling with a toddler there are several items you should never travel without. I will refrain from listing the obvious necessities involving baby hygiene and hydration. These are the top 10 things you should have in your carry on bag for your next flight with your child:   1) A book of three stories about Dora and Diego (bonus points if Dora's mother makes an appearance)   2) Jewelry that she has never seen before so she can throw it to the passenger sitting behind you. Next time make it your diamond earrings so you can blame the child for losing one instead of being stupid enough to wear them when you were snorkeling.   3) Altoids box so she can open, close, open, close, suck on a mint for an hour and then spill the whole box   4) Trash magazines since you have only two or three seconds at a time to look away from your child   5) Your iphone so she can erase your photos, play the barking ring tone repeatedly, and call various clients while you are looking away   6) Your wallet with lots of important cards in it so she can take them all out, scatter them across the aisle and then fight you as you try to retrieve them in turbulence   7) Coins of all denominations so she can put them in her mouth and earn you dirty looks from disapproving people around you   8) Lipsticks, especially your favorite ones. After watching you apply a few times she will grab one, dial it all the way up and then break it against the dinner tray. Also she will love hiding the cap so you never find it and you are left with a nub of your favorite brand, encrusted with sand and hairs.   9) Infant Motrin to drug her into a soporific stupor   10) Bose Headphones to eclipse the sound of your child screaming Posted Jul 07 2008, 01:05 PM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: toddler, travel, airplane, infant, child, vacation, altoids, Diego, Dora, Bose, suitcase, carry-on, airline, bag, motrin, iphone [Edit Tags]

• Dancing by the Sea

  The Bees loves to dance. Whether I'm playing a French children's song or my husband is blasting Van Halen, the Bees will stop whatever she is is doing and bend her knees and bob up and down. If she's really excited about the music she might even put her hands on the floor and continue bouncing her bottom up and down, evoking some tribal ritual.   When we were on holiday with my parents The Bees was thrilled to encounter the daily dance lessons by the seaside. Almost as excited as her mother who studied ballet for years, then took modern dance, joined the swing dance craze, and just a few years ago, horrified my family with belly dancing. I've never studied latin dance however, so the free lessons at Club Med were a real treat. Each day at 11 and at 5 we would gather at the beach bar, barefoot on a cool stone floor, for salsa, merengue, cha cha cha. For the early lessons The Bees was usually in "camp", and around 11:15 I'd see a red wagon go by with 6 toddlers, some of whom were inevitably catterwalling.  This was when I could actually dance with a partner or with the teacher.   But by 5 pm The Bees was out of camp, and attached to my hip, literally, so that my dance lessons were a bit impaired. I then had to become the leader, and with my small partner wrapped around my waist, I'd go through the dance moves "one two cha cha cha, one two cha cha cha". She really enjoyed it. My parents also took a few classes, and The Bees would hop down, run across the dance floor, point and wave to her grandparents and then run back. She would replenish herself with some goldfish and water at the bar, then run back to the dance floor, point at her grandparents, do a few bounces in the middle of the floor and run back.   This was one of those moments where you have become the annoying indulgent parent that you used to abhor - the one who lets their kid run willy nilly, getting in the way, because "gosh aren't they so cute". In fact the Bees did find herself underfoot of a very tall French couple (he was at least 6'8") and was toppled over onto her back. She howled, they apologized, and I did feel some remorse at interrupting their lesson.   My husband's big dance moment was in high school being chosen to dance in the SuperBowl half-time dance audience. Since then he seems to enjoy it mostly as a form of entertainment for our guests, for after many cocktails and to the right rap music he can be found doing a few floor moves in our living room. Even for our wedding I had to beg, plead, and brow-beat him into ballroom lessons. He complained bitterly at the time but was as proud as a peacock of our well-executed performance.   Though she looks exactly like her father The Bees seems to have inherited some of my lively character traits. She responds to music now, and I would be thrilled if she ends up loving to dance as much as I do.   Posted Jul 06 2008, 09:36 AM by districtmom with 1 comment(s) Filed under: dc, baby, toddler, travel, vacation, holiday, dance, swing, salsa [Edit Tags]

• A 70th birthday Present for a Mother

  Recently we had the great fortune of being invited to a Club Med. My father turned 70 this year and decided he'd like to celebrate by treating his family to a Caribbean gathering.   If you have not yet experienced it, you should know that Club Med is the answer to a stay-at-home mother's prayers. They do everything they can to care for and entertain your child so that you can take time to yourself, rest, relax and actually enjoy your own vacation with your husband and other adults.   This operation has figured out the great balance of providing complete care without constraints. You can check your child into "camp", which for babies and toddlers is essentially daycare: An indoor play area, an outdoor shaded play area, a baby pool with toys and fountains, a red trolley bus to cart them around, and a cool, dark nursery where they sleep. You can take your child in at any time of day, take her out if you are feeling guilty about her howling.   The Bees had separation issues as did many of the toddlers, but in her defense she was alternately teething and fighting off a viral infection. We found the best balance was to check her in right before her morning nap, and take her out after she had awoken from her afternoon nap. Her three hours of conscious misery was 5 hours of joy and freedom for me. Each morning I would take yoga class, salsa class, scuba dive, have a few swims in the pool and the ocean, and meet my family for lunch. CB being averse to the heat, the humidity and the sand (basically The Tropics in general) enjoyed 2 hour naps and reading, and would meet us for lunch.    At home on the weekends we often take turns running errands or doing things. One person takes the Bees and the other one takes off. Here in the afternoon CB and I could actually do things together. We played some tennis at which I failed miserably, being highly susceptible to the heat which is amplified on the tennis court. After 40 minutes I was swooning and begging for a swim. We not only survived sea kayaking but enjoyed it (contrary to CB's mantra that tandem sport leads to quick divorce). We took a laser out sailing, during which CB cursed as the boom hit him on the back: "why didn't you tell me you have to switch sides?!" and we capsized twice. We really enjoyed snorkeling. During an organized expedition a rogue wave crashed over the boat and took half the snorkeling gear with it. After bemoaning the loss of my personal items, as well as many fins and masks, an hour later they were spotted floating along in a tidal current, scooped up and found intact. One of the highlights of our trip was snorkeling just off the shore of our resort.  We haven't had that much time together alone since before the Bees was born, and we didn't even fight.   At 2:30 we would pick up the Bees and take her swimming, let her play in the sand and pat herself into a chicken cutlet. We would take her to the beach bar at 5 pm so she could munch on a cheeseburger and fries with her cousin, we could sip on a mojito and we could all enjoy the music and entertainment of the nearby dance lessons. We would have time for her bath (met with screams and tears because she is spoiled at home by bathing with me) and then a few books and a nurse. By 7 pm she was tuckered out, over my shoulder and hoisted off to the "Pajama Party" camp where I could take her into the nursery myself, rock her to sleep and lay her down into a crib. CB and I enjoyed grown up time every night from 7 to 10, though we could have howled at the moon until the wee hours of 1 am if we had wanted to (if we could keep our eyes open that late. Somehow knowing that you have a mandatory 6 am wake up call impedes your nocturnal rampages).    Having all that freedom from my child, both night and day, was the best 70th birthday present a daughter could get.    Posted Jul 06 2008, 09:24 AM by districtmom with no comments Filed under: dc, baby, toddler, swimming, scuba, bar, vacation, holiday, club med, camp, snorkel, birthday [Edit Tags]