|
Mommy Talk
Mommy Talk by Janine
Thursday November 5, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:23PM CST on November 5, 2009
“Wear monkey boots!” If Henry sees his rain boots — brown, with monkey faces on the toes — he wants to wear them. “Wear monkey boots!” If the answer is no, there is crying. Lots and lots of crying. If yes, there is a giant grin, and two-handed waves at toes, and “Hi monkeys!” out of a 2-year-old’s mouth. I’m learning to pick my battles. Footwear is one that, for now, Henry is winning. The kid is obsessed with socks and shoes. Since early October, he’d come home from his grandparents’ house wearing new socks. Pumpkins, spiders, Snoopy, skulls. He loved every single one of them. And every morning, when it was time to get dressed, he’d request a pair. The white, blue and brown socks we had plenty of were no longer good enough. Now, Henry was all “pumpkin socks,” and “spider socks,” and “Snoopy socks.” If they were clean, I’d usually oblige. Then he’d start in on the shoes. Some days he’d want the white athletic shoes, other days his blue shoes. For about a week, all he would wear were his newest pair of shoes (which were too big, and which Scott put on him one day without knowing they were supposed to be saved for another six weeks or so). His favorite combination: The bright orange pumpkin socks, with the sparkly jack-o-lantern face, paired with the too-big blue and brown shoes with orange accents. Where on earth is he getting this from? I admit, I watch Project Runway, but it’s always after Henry’s in bed. This seems to be one of these fun, new areas where Henry’s personality is coming through. There’s joke-telling. The favorite is to point at something and say “That’s not (fill-in-the-blank)!” He’ll point at the table and say “That’s not kitty!” and crack up. He laughs so hard that he can’t hold his head up. I’ve heard friends with older children talk about how their sons and daughters showed parts of their personalities early on. One, adventurous, the other reserved. A girly-girl. A tomboy. Quiet. Exuberant. Silly. Serious. At 2, Henry’s personality is starting to come through in a concrete way. He doesn’t like it when things are broken. He loves to color and draw. If given the choice, he’d go fast. Outside is his preferred environment. For his first birthday, we spent part of the day at the Milwaukee Art Museum, at an exhibit with lots of moving parts, flashing lights and sounds. He was fascinated by all the things to look at, and we enjoyed exploring the installations. This year, we might take him to a petting farm, or Shedd Aquarium. This summer, we’ll take him camping. Watching him discover the world, and watching his emerging personality, is absolute joy. I have no idea where he’s getting some of the things he enjoys, but in many ways, that’s how I like it. Without understanding where it came from, I can just enjoy the ride. Even on the days when he can’t wear his monkey boots. Written by Janine Anderson. Anderson is mom to 2-year-old Henry. Contact her at (262) 631-1703 or janine.anderson@journaltimes.com. Mommy Talk is an online parenting blog written by Journal Times reporters Janine Anderson and Marci Laehr Tenuta. Find it online at: http://my.journaltimes.com/mommytalk. Wednesday October 14, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:04PM CST on October 14, 2009
For the past few years I’ve written about infant mortality. Racine’s rate is dismal. The city’s overall rate is worse than the state’s. There’s no good reason for that. When you break the numbers down by race, it breaks my heart. Black babies born in Racine are far, far more likely to die than white babies. Prematurity and low birth weight are the leading causes of death. Whenever I write a story about this, I’m amazed at the comments people make. Recently, people questioned why the Wisconsin Partnership Program would target money toward programs aimed at reducing the black infant mortality rate. Well, it’s because black babies die at a disproportionate rate. In 2007, the last year for which statistics are available, Racine’s black infant mortality rate was 23.47 deaths per 1,000 live births. The corresponding white rate was 2.43 deaths per 1,000 live births. Reducing the black infant mortality rate doesn’t mean raising the rate for anyone else. It simply means finding ways to make it so fewer of the black babies born here die before their first birthdays. Don’t let this turn into a community-wide blame game. Infant mortality doesn’t have just one cause. It’s about prenatal care, medical care between pregnancies, economic stability, social stability, family stability, safe sleeping, pediatric care, breastfeeding, parental stress levels and community support. Programs to reduce black infant mortality rates — whether they are support groups that advocate breastfeeding, home visitation programs for women who have trouble getting medical care, overall improvements in the quality of care at local medical facilities, mentoring programs for pregnant women — won’t just improve the lives of black women and black babies. A culture that supports babies and pregnant women will help every baby and every pregnant woman. The bad news: There is no one thing that will keep babies in Racine from dying. Improving the health of babies in the city will take efforts on many fronts. The good news: There is no one thing that will keep babies in Racine from dying. That means there’s something each and every one of us can do to help. Open a door for a pregnant woman, or one with a small child. It could help her feel wanted in this community. Offer help — a meal, babysitting, a phone call — to anyone you know with a young baby. It could help reduce family stress. Make funny faces at the baby fussing in the grocery store check-out line. There’s nothing that mom can do Support breastfeeding. Make women who choose to nurse their babies feel comfortable about doing so; a 2004 study by the National Institute for Environmental Health Sciences found a 20 percent lower risk of dying before the first birthday for babies who were breastfed — whether the baby was black or white.
Tuesday August 18, 2009
Posted by: JT Reporter Brendan O'Brien at 11:46AM CST on August 18, 2009
Someone – I think Henry’s doctor – once said she knew she was a mother, when she saw her child throwing up and reached out to try to catch it. The first time I heard that story, I thought: Man, that’s not something I’ll ever be doing. Then came the day I was holding Henry after a feeding, and he let loose with what seemed like all the milk he had just downed. I was much easier to clean than the couch, so I held him close, and then put all the dirty clothes right down the chute. I did the same thing four more times before the day was through. My dreams of motherhood included snuggling, reading books and taking walks. I knew there would be spit-up and diaper changes included, but I had no idea just how often – or how messy – those would be. I had changed diapers before having Henry, and I had been spit upon by babies. What I had never experienced, however, was the 24-hour, 7-day-a-week mess factory that is a newborn. As he got older, the messes didn’t go away. They changed. One day he smeared poop all over his crib and the wall. There was the day he splashed toilet water everywhere, then dumped the cat food into the cat water, and all of that on the floor. He spilled a bottle of bubble solution in the living room. On Monday, when I picked Henry up from day care, they told me he hadn’t had a nap. Odd, I thought, but nothing to worry about. When we got home, I put him in his high chair and gave him a coloring book and a few crayons so I could make dinner without worrying about little hands and hot stoves. I was almost done cooking when I heard him start to lose it in the dining room. “Mama. Mama. Carry you!” he cried. (“Carry you” is Henry-speak for “Pick me up.”) “You can have a hug,” I told him, “but I’ve got to finish dinner.” I gave him the hug, and went to go back to the stove. He wailed. “Carry you! Carry you! Mama!” I sighed and picked him up. As I held him close, he lurched. He got sick on me. On my favorite T-shirt. On his duck-duck-goose onesie. Even though I knew it was going to keep happening, I brought him closer. We went into the bathroom. I put him in the empty tub and took off my shirt. By this time, he’d started to cry. He wasn’t upset about being sick, though. “Dirty,” he said. “Mess.” He kept pointing, sobbing, and telling me about the dirty mess. My heart broke. I kept telling him that it was OK, that I loved him, and worked quickly to make that mess disappear so that he’d feel better. I washed him off under the tub faucet, dried him off and got him into pajamas. We had a quiet night that night. Later, as I retold this story to family and friends, something hit my heart. Henry, at 21 months of age, wasn’t worried about his own problem, his own sickness or discomfort. He was worried about the mess that I was going to have to clean up. When do we lose that? When do we become more concerned about ourselves than others? As a parent, there was no effort, no conscious decision that I ever made, to put Henry’s needs first: That’s just how love functions. On Monday, he gave that right back to me and showed the loving nature he’s already got. Friday July 24, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:15AM CST on July 24, 2009
Lately, I am one of my son’s least favorite people.
When I pick Henry up from his grandma’s, where he hangs out a couple days a
week, I am greeted with screams of “No! No! No!” and “Mee-ma!” and wails and
running away. If we’ve had to bring two cars somewhere, if Henry
rides with me instead of his father, I am treated to a car ride of crying. When he and I are playing inside, and his dad heads out
for a bit, the wails begin as soon as he sees the car going down the driveway –
and Scott can hear him from seven houses away. It’s lovely. There’s nothing I can do about it. I tell myself that
it’s just a phase, he’ll grow out of it, and all those things that we parents
say to convince ourselves that the thing we fear isn’t the thing that’s
happening. He doesn’t really hate me, I tell myself during those
tear-filled drives. He just loves his grandma so much. They were having such
fun. He didn’t want to leave. Then, later that night, the wails start up when Dad
leaves the house. The only time Henry is guaranteed to show me he loves
me is when he first wakes up. Usually, I’m the one who gets him out of his crib. Then
I am greeted with enthusiastic requests for high fives, with minute-long
strings of baby babble, with clutching hugs around my neck. One morning, we snuggled together for a few minutes, as
we took our time waking up. At one point he lifted his head off the pillow and
shook it. “No clock,” he said. “Tick tock.” When I laughed at him, he did it
again. My nephew went through a mommy phase a while ago. No
one else would do. When Henry was a tiny baby, he let just about anyone
hold him. It was nice: It made it easier to bring him to day care or to have
friends and relatives come by to give me a chance to take a shower, unhurried
by his cries. Now, I sometimes wish he had a little bit of Oliver’s mommy-need
in him. Instead, I get to listen to Henry scream for someone other than me. I never took it personally when Oliver wasn’t
particularly interested in hanging out with me. When it’s Henry screaming for
someone other than me, it’s much harder to dismiss. It was great when I could solve his problems with a
cuddle: I felt competent and capable – like SuperMom. This screaming child is something else. His wails
transform me into SlugMom, a mutant creature whose hugs cannot soothe. Still, I completely trust my love for him and that he loves me back. I
was just under the apparently delusional belief that it would take a few more
years before he couldn’t stand to be with me. Tuesday July 7, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:50PM CST on July 7, 2009
Henry's moving faster than ever, and while it's fun to see him tear around the yard or chase the cats through the living room, it also makes my heart stop.
He wants to go places, do things, that his little body's just not ready for, and he tumbles. He's got scraped knees, bruised shins and rugburn. I know it's part of his exploration, his learning about the world. But, man, it makes me want to pad him with a giant layer of cotton. How did you survive your energetic boys' physical exuberance? Wednesday June 24, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:42PM CST on June 24, 2009
Henry has lost all rights to balls in the house.
The other day he picked up a block and chucked it at me. It hit me between the eyes. I had a bump for a few hours. When he was really little (and uncoordinated and relatively weak) it was funny to see him try to throw a ball. He'd put all this effort into it, and the thing would go maybe 12 inches. Now, he can throw a tennis ball across the room. No accuracy, but he's got oomph. He can do the same with a baseball, and a rubber ball, and a tennis ball. And, apparently, a block, as I so painfully discovered. He didn't know what he was doing, and definitely didn't know it would hurt. He just thinks throwing is fun, and blocks are fun, so, logically, throwing a block would be even more fun.I don't think I can still buy that explanation when he hits me. As far as I know, I'm the only target of his slapping. He likes to do it most when I'm carrying him to get his diaper changed or put him to bed. He takes his little hands, pulls them back and then slaps them, hard, into my cheeks. I can't intercept them because I'm carrying him. My early, very stern No's were met with giggles and more hitting. The last time he did it, my "No!" made him cry, which was a better reaction than the laughter. He's a bit too young for time outs to be very effective, though they do give him a much-needed short break from the activity. Ultimately, I'd like to figure out why he's doing it. It seems to come around most when it's time for a diaper change... maybe it's time for potty training.Friday May 8, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:31PM CST on May 8, 2009
A few weeks ago, two friends invited Henry and I to join them and their 2-year-old daughters at Kids Cove, by the lake. We’d never been. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but we hopped in the car and drove down. Henry loved it.He got excited as soon as he saw the towers, slides and swings, letting out an excited-baby “ooh!” He climbed stairs and crawled on wobbly bridges. He stood in a tower and yelled out the sides at the kids he saw running below.He followed the girls everywhere they went. To the swings, to the slide, to the slide, to the slide, to the slide.Head first, he zoomed down the slide again and again and again, into the waiting arms of a friend. He loved moving the rubber chips in the toddler area, sorting the chips in some fashion only he understood. He mustered the courage to crawl through a tunnel by himself.His knees were filthy by the time we were done at the playground. The fun went on.We went to play on the beach, just a short walk away. He had never crawled in sand before.Henry laughed and laughed at the puffs of sand his hands tossed up as he crawled. He loved it so much he got down on his belly, just to be closer to the sand. He pulled himself through the sand, arm over arm, feet pushing for traction. His mouth was open, in that uninhibited joyful baby smile, eyes gleaming, giggles pouring out.He crawled, giggled, crawled some more. He loved it so much, there was only one thing left to do.Give the sand a kiss. Mouth wide open, he planted his face in the sand.He looked up, still excited, but bewildered. It hadn’t been quite what he’d expected. I couldn’t help but laugh. I brushed him off, stood him up and helped him walk.All he wanted was to crawl. I put him back down, and he again giggled at those puffs of sand hopping into the air ahead of his fast-moving hands. He got down on his belly.Before I could stop him, he kissed the beach again. I brushed him off and sat him down. The wind ruffled his hair. He picked up handfuls of sand, just to watch it sift through his fingers.He just had to move. He crawled, he giggled, he got down on his belly, and, one more time, he kissed the beach.Grains were in his mouth. Sand stuck to his drool-covered chin. It took three times, but he learned an important lesson that Saturday:Not everything that’s fun tastes good. Tuesday April 21, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:33AM CST on April 21, 2009
I got the following e-mail from a Mommy Talk reader. I was wondering if you knew of any
prenatal exercise classes offered in I don't know of any exercise classes for pregnant women. Do any of you? Monday April 20, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:07AM CST on April 20, 2009
Henry was a late crawler. He learned to belly crawl at nine months and wasn’t up on all fours until he was more than a year old. Now, the little guy is proving to be a late walker. He’s 17 months old, and refuses to take steps on his own. With one hand lightly touching the furniture he cruises around the house. There isn’t anywhere he can’t get to now. A week ago he was doing laps around the Asian Buffet, holding one of my fingers and joyfully crying “Go, go, go!” because he wanted to go faster. He walked to the car, holding one finger. He walked to the house, holding one finger. Holding one finger, he’ll go anywhere. Remove that finger, and he drops to his knees and keeps going, shuffling along, sturdy and stable, and destroying the knees of his pants. I’m anxious for him to take his first, real, self-motivated steps. I want to see him toddle off on his own. I’m getting tired of toting him in along with the groceries when we come back from the store. While Henry’s holding back on his first steps, he’s a daredevil in other ways. He loves slides and swings and going fast. He has climbed child-size picnic tables, and loves to climb stairs. When he wants to go down, he wants to go head first. Walking to the house, laden with baby and briefcase and lunch bag, I yearn for the days when he will walk on his own. Watching him stand on the bench of the kiddie picnic table or hearing about his stair-climbing escapades, my heart stops for a moment. This kid’s not going to walk; he’s going to run. One day, I’ll set him on the ground, expecting him to cling to my legs, and he’s going to let go, take one step away and be off. I know that crawling is one of the last things that ties this toddler to his baby days. He’s talking more than ever. Each day he seems to learn a new word.We still get glimpses of baby babble, with his nonsensical, foreign-sounding dialect pouring out into silence. When he listens to us talking now he nods his head. Yes, yes, yes, like he’s seriously considering our points of view. Yes, Mommy, I’ll use the spoon. Oh, that sounds like a tough day you had, his bobbling-head seems to say.In those moments, he seems so grown-up. We had grandma cut off his baby curls last Sunday. The tiny, wispy curls were long enough in the back to reach his collar. When we’d take off his hat, all this super-fine baby hair would stick up in a little nest in the back of his head. So, holding him on my lap, she took a scissors to his hair. Snip, snip, snip.There goes the baby curls. Step, step, step.There goes the baby crawls. There goes the baby.Thursday April 9, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:07AM CST on April 9, 2009
I've got cousins and friends who are having their first babies, and it reminds me of how little I really knew about what it was going to be like to have that baby at home with me.
I got all kinds of advice from people before Henry was born -- some helpful, some not. Now that I've got my own experience to build on, I have my own mommy tips that I can pass along. Here's some of what I learned: If you're going to cloth-diaper, get a diaper service to start with. 80 diapers a week sounds like a lot, but you'll need them, and you really won't want to wash them all yourself. You'll be doing enough regular laundry as it is.
Cloth diapers make great burp rags, especially if you've got a baby that likes to spit up. Invest in a good baby carrier that's comfortable for you and your parenting partner to use. Look for one with an upper weight limit of at least 20 pounds. Carrying a 9-month-old that weighs 18 pounds is tough. Come up with a shared night-time duty schedule early, and revise often.
Ask visitors to bring you food or necessities when they come to see you and the baby. What advice would you give to a new mom? Thursday April 2, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:20PM CST on April 2, 2009
It seems like every day Henry is less a baby and more a little boy.
He talks. (boy) He still crawls. (baby) He feeds himself. (boy) He drinks from a bottle. (baby) When did you declare that your child was more toddler than baby? What things had he or she learned to do? Thursday March 26, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:33AM CST on March 26, 2009
A few weeks ago, I read a Washington Post Magazine story about parents who had forgotten their children in the car, most often on warm spring or summer days. The children died.
It's an incredible piece of journalism, and that's how I found it: through a Web site about reporting and writing. As soon as I finished it, I had this overwhelming urge to call my husband, who was home with Henry at the time, and make sure they were both OK. I wanted to tell them not to leave the house again, ever.
Former Mommy Talk contributor Elizabeth Young wrote about her penchant for "disaster daydreams," where she could visualize the horrible things that could have happened to her daughters. I haven't had that happen too many times. That story, though, immediately sent me spinning into disaster dream-land. I forget things all the time. I forget my cell phone. I forget my lunch. I forget my notebook. Just last week I locked myself and Henry out of the house. I was glad it was March and not January; it took about 15 minutes before someone with a spare key could get to the house to let us back inside. When I read the story about parents who have forgotten their children in the cars, I immediately thought that could happen to me.
One theory is that there's been an increase in children dying because they were left in cars at least partially because we put them in the back seat. We can't see them unless we look back there. If they're asleep and quiet, if we don't have the diaper bag on the passenger seat as a reminder, if we get distracted at just the right moment, maybe, just maybe, we could forget that we didn't drop them off at day care and head right to work.
The title of this post is a quote from David Diamond, a professor quoted in the story. Here's the whole passage: "Memory is a machine," he says, "and it is not flawless. Our conscious mind prioritizes things by importance, but on a cellular level, our memory does not. If you're capable of forgetting your cellphone, you are potentially capable of forgetting your child."
He spoke with the reporter while he was in Washington for a conference. The writer, Gene Weingarten, described Diamond's research like this: "What (Diamond has) found is that under some circumstances, the most sophisticated part of our thought-processing center can be held hostage to a competing memory system, a primitive portion of the brain that is -- by a design as old as the dinosaur's -- inattentive, pigheaded, nonanalytical, stupid."
In the article, Weingarten talks to a host of parents who have forgotten -- or almost forgotten -- their children or grandchildren in their cars. He talks to parents who were criminally charged for doing so, and those who were not prosecuted. The article is heart-wrenching in its honesty and its grief. As a mom, I came away feeling incredible compassion for those parents. They loved their children. These were not cases of neglect, or attempts to hurt their children. It's far too easy to condemn these parents and say "That would never happen to me. I could never forget my child." Maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you couldn't. I know that I don't want to take that chance. I'll take the vigilance that comes with knowing that the brain is faulty: If I can forget my phone, I can forget my child. If I can lock myself out of the house, I can forget that Henry's in the back seat. It's a reminder, especially as the weather warms up, to always double-check. Even if you think it can't happen to you, why take the chance? Always check. Always pay attention. Remember you're human, and that humans make mistakes. These parents had incredible courage in sharing their stories with Weingarten. That in itself is a way to help correct the horrible mistakes they each made. It's a gift they gave to every parent that reads the article. I am grateful they had the strength to give it. Click here to find the Washington Post story. Please note, there are graphic descriptions in the story of children's deaths and the emotions of parents.Wednesday March 18, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 2:23PM CST on March 18, 2009
A few months ago, readers of this column found a story about bras, breasts and breastfeeding.
We're about to head there again, folks, but this time, it's not quite so personal. It's societal. Breastfeeding moms are in an uproar over a recent article in "The Atlantic," which published third-time-new-mother Hanna Rosin's piece "The Case Against Breastfeeding." In it, Rosin talks about the societal myth and mystique of breastfeeding. She addresses the hip-ness, the cool-ness, the clique-y and club-y aspect of breastfeeding. She tries to poke holes in research that says breastfeeding provides health, mental and social benefits like fewer ear infections, lower obesity rates, higher IQs and better bonding with mom. A good friend and I were pregnant at the same time, with due dates just a few weeks apart. We talked about breastfeeding at our regular lunches together. We'd sit at a sushi restaurant in town (where we only chomped on non-raw-fish rolls) and talk about our pregnancies, our excitement, our worries, and our hopes. We both planned to breastfeed. We didn't talk in terms of ifs and maybes and wants. We expected to do it. We knew all the medical, social and emotional reasons to do it.We both tried. When Henry was born, he refused to latch on. He was tiny, and so sleepy. We were trying all kinds of ways to get him to nurse, but he didn't want to do it. After about a week of forcing and cajoling and crying and despair, he figured it out.My dear friend and her baby never quite got there. After an agonizing few weeks, she switched to formula. I asked her about this as I was putting this column together. Here's what she had to say: "My decision to not breastfeed STILL agonizes me. ...Every time I read something about breastfeeding lowering the instance of this, or the likelihood of that, I regret my decision to switch to formula. I actually have to go back and read the things I wrote in my journal and in (his) baby book during that time to remind myself of what a hard time we were having." Both our babies are dear, sweet little boys. By looking at them, you can't tell who was breastfed and who got formula. By looking at us, you can't tell who breastfed and who didn't. I never thought my buddy was a bad mom for not breastfeeding. She is a fabulous mom, a beautiful, strong woman with a fierce, intense love for her son. I believe breastfeeding was the right decision for us, just as my friend knows that bottle-feeding was right for them. Rosin's right about a few things: Breastfeeding is tough. It's hard, exhausting and, at times, inconvenient. It eliminates any semblance of equal division of labor between parents. I know that having a pediatrician who completely supported breastfeeding, having friends who had breastfed, having a mom who breastfed and knowing that, in general, breastfeeding was recognized as a healthy, positive and legitimate way to feed your baby were necessary components of my success as a nursing mom. I'm a full-time reporter. I pumped at work. I pumped in the car. I pumped in the bathroom of the courthouse. That's what I needed to do, and I found ways to do it. As mothers, we don't need to be told that something that's difficult but provides benefits to us and our children is expendable. I needed those pep talks, even if it turns out that the science isn't sound. We moms also don't need to be made to feel that, somehow, just because we use formula, we don't love our children. It's tough enough to be a mom in America. We aren't guaranteed paid maternity leave. We worry about bullying, sex, getting our kids ready for school, keeping our jobs, paying for groceries, paying for day care and forgetting our kids in the car seat. Can't we leave the breastfeeding wars behind us? Do what's right for your baby, yourself and your family. If everyone's doing that, what do we really have to argue about? Wednesday March 4, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 2:42PM CST on March 4, 2009
I saw firefighters pull a man’s body from the river. I saw people park their cars and get out to watch, young children in tow. I thought about my son, at day care that day. He’s too young to ask me about my day. In a few years, he won’t be. What will I tell him when I come home from something like this? I remember the first time I realized that people don’t live forever. I was 5 years old, and my Great-Grandma Dudick had died. I remember my mom talking to me about it. I didn’t go to the funeral. I had only met her once, and all I really remember is taking a turn feeding her. As I got older, family members that I knew better got sick. Grandfathers had heart attacks and bypass surgeries. A grandmother got cancer. My parents talked to me at each stage, told me how hard it was to heal. They prepared us for the surgeries, we made hospital visits. I saw my grandma lose her hair and fade with chemotherapy and radiation. I learned that sickness happens to children, too. When I was in sixth grade a cousin was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We went with her to the hospital for treatments, and waited with her mom and little brother. There’s a mom part of me that doesn’t ever want Henry to know these things. I wish he would never have to experience major illness or know the pain of losing someone he loves. I also know that the only way for him to not experience these things is for him to not really live. There’s happiness and sadness in life. There’s life and there’s death. When I go home, especially if death has been part of my day, the spark of life and energy that Henry carries within him is particularly precious. In him, I am reminded that, for something to begin, something else must end. Henry’s middle name is Paul, for my maternal grandparents, beacons of love named Paul and Pauline. A few weeks after I found out that I was pregnant, Scott and
I took a trip to By the time Henry was born, my grandfather’s health had
deteriorated significantly. He was in My mom called me one night shortly after Henry’s birth and told me that my grandfather wasn’t doing well. I immediately booked a flight to take Henry to visit his great-grandpa. We had an early flight out of Instead of the visit to introduce great-grandfather to great-grandson, I got on the flight knowing we were headed to a funeral. Right there, my 5-week-old son – so small, so new – came face-to-face with death. I remember crying as Scott held Henry up to my grandfather’s casket and introduced them. I cry now, writing about it. That weekend, as we remembered my grandfather, everyone also rejoiced in Henry’s new life. We saw the circle, the end of one life, the beginning of another. Today, I saw it again. I wish peace for that man and his family, with all my being. Saturday February 21, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 2:30PM CST on February 21, 2009
I lost a bet last week. A friend at work was talking about how she had only seen three of the Oscar-nominated movies this year. I said I bet I hadn't even seen one. She took me up on it. And won. I owe her a coffee. Before we had Henry, Scott and I went to the movies a lot. He loves the popcorn. I love the movies. It's a good mix. When he was really craving popcorn, I could even convince him to see something that wasn't a comedy. This year, the only Oscar-nominated movie we saw was “WALL-E.” The Pixar movie has been nominated for six awards, including best animated feature. Last year, we’d seen four of the movies. The funny part is that we didn’t bring Henry with us. That was the only thing playing that we even remotely wanted to see the night we finally arranged for a babysitter.Now, if we watch a movie, it’s most likely one that we rented over the TV. I fall asleep halfway through and have to finish it the next morning, before the rental expires. Until I made that little newsroom bet, I didn’t even realize just how few movies we’d been to. Sure, we lament our lack of movie-going every once in a while, but it’s not something we’ve been incredibly motivated to change. We’ve been too busy over the past year to really notice how different things had become. Instead of movies, we’re more likely to watch Blue’s Clues and Baby Einstein. Instead of drinks out with friends, we’ve got juice boxes and milk. Instead of eating out, we eat in, in our kitchen stocked with baby food and lots and lots of cheese. All last year, while these changes were taking place, I didn’t really notice. It’s only now, on the other side of it, that I can see how different 2008 was from any other year. We didn’t see movies, but we helped a baby turn into a boy. This time last year Henry hadn’t tasted any food. He couldn’t roll over or crawl. He never slept through the night. Now, our little kiddo is all over the place. He’s walking on his knees, loves to give hugs and blow kisses and asks for his favorite foods (like “cheee”). Who needs the movies? We’ve got our own reality show. But I’ll still be watching the Oscars. Written by Janine Anderson. Anderson is mom to 15-month-old Henry. Contact her at (262) 631-1703 or janine.anderson@lee.net.
Tuesday January 20, 2009
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:17AM CST on January 20, 2009
Henry digs peanut butter. He doesn't get it all the time, but a few times a week, we give him a PB&J sandwich. It's sticky, and messy, but he enjoys it.
I've been getting calls from family members warning us not to give him peanut butter because of the recalls. Our PB is pretty old - from before Christmas, and we've been eating it for a month. I'm pretty sure that if we were going to be sick from it, we'd already know. But that doesn't stop moms - and peanut-butter-eaters everywhere - from worrying about what to do when the jar runs out. Heck. I didn't order Peanut Butter Patties from the Girl Scouts this year, because I'm concerned. If you're a peanut butter worrier, find out more directly from the FDA, by clicking here. You'll find a searchable database about peanut butter products, so you can figure out if whatever you're using is under the recall. There are sections for candies, cookies, crackers, fruit and veggie products, ice cream, peanut butter and peanut paste, and full lists of all peanut-related products, available for download. More information on the recall is available here. Monday December 29, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:01AM CST on December 29, 2008
Did you have a favorite holiday moment this year?
For me, it was getting to spend the entire day with my family. Something we haven't been able to do for years. We got to see the babies open gifts for the first time, we played video games (even my dad!) and had plenty of time for visiting. It was fantastic. How about a favorite toy experience for your kids? Henry was absolutely enamored with his new wooden blocks. He kept saying "wooo!" and showing them to everyone at our house on Christmas Eve. Christmas Day, he fell in love with some wooden puzzles that my sisters gave to him. Anyone else have a story to share? Wednesday December 24, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 7:29AM CST on December 24, 2008
My heart has exploded. If you’re a mom, I love you. If you’re a child, I love you. If you take care of children, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Having Henry opened my heart wider than I ever thought possible. It thrust me beyond the place I used to live, where my body was what I protected. And each time his needs came before mine, I knew I wasn’t the only one who had done this. I wasn’t the only one with a bruised backside after falling backwards with no hands to break her fall because her baby was in her arms. I wasn’t the only one hungry, because I made the baby’s dinner first. I wasn’t the only one going to work with bleary eyes because the baby kept me up at night. I wasn’t the only one. Some other baby, somewhere, was doing the same thing. Some other mother, somewhere, was doing the same thing. There are a lot of things about being a mother that are wonderful in the heart-bursting, belly laugh, oh-what-joy! sort of way. I talk about those things to people all the time. I tell stories about Henry’s little baby language, where he’s saying all kinds of things that we just can’t understand. I tell them about his funny attempts to crawl, his big hugs, how he’s learning to wave bye-bye and give high five. People know that he’s started to say “no,” when he’s frustrated. Like the other day, when he really wanted the tiny dump truck at the bottom of his toy bin. Standing up, reaching into the crate as far as he could, wasn’t working. His arm was too short. So he started telling me just how bad things were. “Nononononono!” he said. Then he looked up. And repeated it. “Nononononono!” I laughed. Then I went over and got the dump truck. A minute later, we repeated it with the garbage truck. But there are also things that aren’t so wonderful, and I don’t talk about those quite as much. Sure, I talk about Henry’s night-time wake-ups and my fear that he’s not on track, but those are the kinds of things you expect when you become a parent. I have yet to meet a parent who hasn’t had those worries at one point or another. But there are days when I’m so tired and irritated that I put Henry in his jumpy thing, turn on Sesame Street or a toddler cartoon and do something just for me (like read a book at the dining room table). There are times when I feel I don’t have any more energy, any more joy or love or anything else to give, and I have no choice but to let that pretense of perfection go. If I try to hold on to it I get testy and snippy and start asking questions like “When will someone take care of me?” I feel like I’m 15 again, full of ego and angst and with the firm belief that I’m a much bigger deal than I really am. Why do I pretend that everything is always fine? What am I so afraid of? That someone might know that being a mom is tough? That there are times that my little kiddo — whom I love dearly, always will, and always have — makes me crazy? What mom doesn’t have those moments? I have two dear, dear friends (both moms themselves) who have told me several times that I need to stop being so hard on myself.So do you. I know that no matter how tired am, no matter how little energy I think I have, I’ve got a job to do, and it’s a job I love. I know you’ve all been there. I’m a mom. Sometimes that job is giving hugs and sometimes it’s changing a diaper. Sometimes it’s taking a moment to quiet my inner teenager before opening my mouth, and sometimes it’s a hard landing on a flight of stairs. Sometimes it means the house won’t get cleaned to perfection before company comes over because there are other, more important things to do with my time. Like building another tower of blocks so Henry can knock it down. So, here’s to you, moms. Here’s to the unsung moments when you do for your children before you do for yourself. I wish you peace, joy and love in the new year. Monday December 22, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:31PM CST on December 22, 2008
We took Henry sledding at Lockwood Park on Saturday and pulled him along the snowy sidewalk in a little sled. He seemed to enjoy it. But he seems to enjoy just about everything.
I sat him on top of one of the huge piles of shoveled snow next to our driveway. He loved that, too. Every time we walk outside, he gets excited. Something about the cold air on his cheeks gets him going. It's easy for me to hide inside when it gets snowy and cold out, though I remember loving sledding, ice skating, building forts, making snow angels and trying to walk on top of the crusted snow. What kinds of things do you do with your kids in the winter? Wednesday December 10, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:21AM CST on December 10, 2008
For the past few weeks I've been trying to find matching Christmas outfits for Henry and his cousin Oliver. It seemed like every store I went to had rack after rack of holiday clothes for little girls (tartan plaid dresses, anyone?), and nothing for boys.
I didn't want anything too fancy. Henry still crawls, and Oliver's not quite doing that yet, so if it was too stiff they wouldn't be able to move much. Little suits weren't what I had in mind. Red sweaters, maybe. Or sweater vests. Button down shirts. Nothing. I ended up at Old Navy over the weekend and found some great things. (I love fair isle knits.) I also got Henry a fabulous romper, with this goofy rectangular reindeer dude on it and the word "peace." It was so great to finally see a holiday outfit that wasn't about Santa, being naughty or nice, selling kisses or demanding presents. Presents are a part of the Christmas tradition. I know this. They're a part of our tradition as well. But is it really necessary to dress our kids in outfits that glorify desire? When I paid for the clothes I bought at Old Navy, the holiday outfits came out of our holiday gift savings. As I went through the complicated motions of separating items out and making sure I took money from the right pocket, I explained what I was doing to the cashier.She said more and more people are coming in with cash this year. They're telling her similar stories. The cash is what they've got for gifts. Nothing's going on plastic this year. That way they can keep track of how much they have to spend and how much is left. Driving Downtown last week I thought about the house we live in. It was built in 1928. Back then, it probably housed a family of four or five. When I was little, we never went out to eat.My mom has told us how she had five outfits for school when she was young. At some point between 1928 and 2008 it became normal for us to have everything we wanted. That can't be healthy. We have friends who exchange hand-made gifts with their families every year. I want to take that idea and bring it to my family. What kinds of gifts could we give if we weren't going to shop for them? We can make cookies for my brother-in-law, who can't get enough of Scott's chocolate chip cookies. I could dedicate time to teach my sister Lisa how to knit. I could finally knit my sister Cheryl the hooded scarf she has been asking for for years. We could make time for a family dinner with my parents every eight weeks, so they can see Henry more often. What gifts could you give? Wednesday December 3, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:05PM CST on December 3, 2008
Every month four or five parenting magazines show up in my mailbox. I'm not officially subscribed to any of them - at least I don't pay for a subscription to any of them - but I read each and every one.
Inside each of them is a combination of stories that freak me out and give me comfort. Reading them is a great way to get me nervous about the future and the present, while putting the past to rest. There's the stories about newborns, which I get to read for nostalgia these days. The other night I read one that summed up what newborns do as eat, sleep, cry and poop. Those days, if you put Henry down somewhere, that's where he stayed. Now, he makes a beeline for the cat's water dish. There are stories about milestones - when a baby can be expected to get first teeth, to roll over, to crawl. What they should weigh, how much they should eat, sleep, poop or cry.I can't help but compare Henry to those glossy pages of idealized babies. His gummy grin (with one tooth now!) to the rows of pearly baby teeth. His army crawl to the standers and walkers his age. His adorable baby babble to other kids' mama, dada and bottle. It's the same sort of thing that happens when I take him to the doctor and fill out the developmental questionnaire. It's always a bit of an anxious moment when I have to circle the first no. I have these moments of mental anguish. Can he get to a sitting position from lying down? I've never seen him, but does that mean he can't? Or is it just that he hasn't? I skip it, then go back after I've circled two other 'no's: he's not standing up on his own and he's not using words to refer to things. What does this mean? Anything? Nothing? So I go home, pick up the most recent parenting magazine to land in the mailbox, and read. I feel better about the walking, but worse about the word use. Some days I want to holler at him - just do it already! - and others I'm cherishing what very well could be the last time he falls asleep in my arms. I'd love for him to say "Mama" when he sees me, but I can't get enough of the nonsensical baby stories he tells me. No clue what he's saying, but they're hilarious. He even cracks himself up.That's what I should be doing with my time: Paying attention to his baby-ness. Who cares about those photoshopped babies in the magazines? They're not the ones knocking down block towers or playing a plastic piano. When I realize I've been worrying instead of watching it throws me back into what's going on. He changes so much, even day to day, that it's hard to keep up. I hope I remember these things. I hope I never forget how he giggles at the lion cubs and the spider monkeys at the zoo, how the unexpected sight of the cat's tail is cause for celebration, how he strokes his ear to get to sleep. While talking with my sister about what my 6-month-old nephew's been up to, I realized I almost forgot Henry's futile early attempts at crawling, balanced on his baby belly, arms and legs moving, and going nowhere. Some day, I likely won't remember the way his baby voice sounded, hollering ba-bao! in fancy shoe stores in Wicker Park, or how he made friends with the sailors on the train. Why worry about whether he's saying any words yet or whether he's let go of the coffee table to toddle off into the living room. Judging by how grandmothers have pulled baby books out to see when my husband and I did things, it's obvious I'm going to remember very few of these details, especially 30 years from now. Thursday November 20, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:39PM CST on November 20, 2008
Motrin pulled an ad targeted at moms one day after it aired because of backlash generated by bloggers.
Here's some of the text: One of the big complaints from moms in the blogosphere is the way the ad seems to portray moms who wear their babies as doing so for some frivolous reason. The ad is hoping moms who wear their babies (and who _must_ have serious pain from doing so) take Motrin to relieve those backaches. I wear Henry. Not like he's a bracelet, but because strapping him to my back or my front lets me keep him close and still do stuff. We've gone to baseball games, museums, hiking and on cross-country train trips thanks to the carrier I bought. And, it's International Babywearing Week. Bad timing for Motrin. What do you think? Do you wear your baby? Did the ad go too far? Are babywearing moms making too much of this?
Wednesday November 12, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:05PM CST on November 12, 2008
I want new bras. I’m sick of wearing undergarments whose primary purpose is to allow access to my breasts. With a year of breastfeeding under my belt, I’m ready to reclaim my chest, at least partially.Henry still nurses in the morning and before bed, but I’m not pumping during the day any longer. It was so free, leaving for work without my accompanying collection of bottles, ice pack and pump parts.Ah. Wednesday was the first day of not scheduling 15-minute breaks in the morning and afternoon to hide away from the office and take care of baby business.It’s good-bye to the chuk-issss chuk-issss chuk-isss of the pump. And good-bye to the days of required 24-hour easy access. But now, it’s hello to bra shopping.This is no fun. First, bras are expensive. I’ve rarely bought more than one bra at a time, so the sticker shock doesn’t really set in. I go to the store, pay $30 and go home with a bra.No problem. But now, I need to buy three or four all at once. That’s a $90-$120 bra bill. I have to budget for that kind of shopping.We were in Milwaukee last week and I stopped at a lingerie store. I had hoped they’d have something that would fit well, be pretty, and not too expensive. I hoped for too much.I tried on 10 bras. None fit right. The bands gapped, or the straps slid off my shoulders, or the cups wrinkled. There’s been no new development on this wardrobe need since then. I’m telling myself that it’s because I should wait until after I’m not nursing at all anymore to get the new bras.After all, what if my size changes again once I’m done breastfeeding? I’ll just have to spend the money to get new bras again. (At least then I’d be following the crazy recommendation of “bra experts” who say you should replace those pricey pieces of clothing every three to six months. Really. Who does that? Who can afford it?) But really, it’s just an excuse to avoid the intimates department for a while longer.Shopping for a new bra was worse than trying on swimsuits. While having a well-fitting swimsuit is great, it’s not an article of clothing that gets much use. And if it’s used for swimming instead of, say, sunbathing, nobody really sees it anyway.A bra is essential. It goes on every day. It’s worn all day. When that’s uncomfortable, or doesn’t fit right, it’s more difficult to ignore.So, I want new bras. I want to wear grown-up underwear. I want them to be pretty, feminine, supportive.That last one is important now. Henry left me with a bigger chest that needs some extra help. It’s yet another reminder (like the stretch marks on my still-flabby belly) that having a baby has changed more than the size of my family.It’s changed me. Thursday November 6, 2008
Posted by: mlaehr at 11:52AM CST on November 6, 2008
Today is Henry’s birthday. He woke up this morning at 2 a.m., minutes before he was born.
We celebrated his birthday as a family yesterday, just the three of us. We went to the Milwaukee Art Museum to see a special exhibit of interactive art. I strapped Henry to my back and we walked through.
We had a blast.
There was a big patch of floor, covered with projected images that change as you move across. Henry loved crawling around on it. There were screens that captured your images and projected them on the wall. Henry was fascinated. He laughed as Scott and I chased each other around as a projected beam of light separated us, adjusting to our movements. He talked at the neon lights flickering and changing in a dark room.
A year ago, I was having far less fun, but was no less connected to this little boy.
On Wednesday, Nov. 5, he was strapped to my back. Last Nov. 5, he was still inside me. I was hooked up to IVs and monitors, with pitocin pumping through me. I had Scott with me, and our doula. I remember having some chicken broth (the beef broth they brought me made me feel pretty nauseated) and lemonade, and lots of water.
I hadn’t had any pain medications, and was terrified of getting an epidural. I couldn’t rest, because when I laid down, Henry’s head compressed some nerve in my lower back, which was the most painful thing I’d ever experienced.
By 10 p.m., I couldn’t take it any more, my labor wasn’t progressing, and my fear of an epidural was eclipsed by that of a C-section because I’d been laboring for almost 24 hours. I got the epidural, had it dialed up once because the pain came back, and then went to sleep for a few hours.
I woke up around 1 a.m., and things had changed. I called the nurse, and it looked like Henry was now ready. An hour later, at 2:08 a.m., we got to meet him.
He was so small, with a breathy newborn cry. He quieted when Scott gave him a finger to hold.
I loved him instantly, and marveled at his head, his tiny shoulder blades, and the hands that looked so big on his tiny body.
Now, I marvel at how much he’s changed.
He’s got the same big, blue eyes. But now he’s army crawling around, pulling himself up on things and knocking down towers of blocks. He’s babbling constantly, telling us all kinds of incomprehensible stories. He belly laughs, he whispers, he giggles.
He still cuddles. He still loves to be held and rocked. He’s still my baby.
Happy birthday, little guy Wednesday October 29, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:33PM CST on October 29, 2008
Henry's two weeks away from turning 1, and he's got no teeth. None. Just a bunch of gum.
It's a delightfully funny smile, with the particular wideness that only comes from toothless babies. I've thought that he's getting teeth, oh, six or seven times now, but nothing. What signs did your kids give when they were teething? How old were they? Friday October 24, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:27PM CST on October 24, 2008
Henry turns 1 in a few weeks, and we're having a party. It's been a long time since I've had anything to do with planning a kids' party and I could use some help.
What's the best party planning tip you've got? Best thing for cakes? Bakery or homemade (got a recipe to share?) Most fabulous easy food for a crowd?
Best place for party decorations and supplies?
Wednesday October 22, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:33AM CST on October 22, 2008
There are a lot of things I was completely unprepared for as a parent. I didn't fully understand exactly how many times a newborn needed to be changed, or how quickly it would feel like Henry had always been a part of our lives, or the joy that would come with watching him grow. But one of the biggest surprises? How often kids bring colds home with them. In the almost-year since we've had Henry there have been more illnesses in this house than in the previous five years combined. I swear. Babies are far better equipped for virus-management than we adults. Sure, our immune systems are better, and today, I'm feeling just about back to normal after about four days of ick while Henry's coughing his way through day 10 of the cold that never ends. But Sunday night, when I had just about lost my voice from coughing and Monday morning, when I was so plugged up I couldn't breathe or hear, I was miserable. I wanted soup, grilled cheese, bad movies on TV and ice cream. I wanted to be left alone to wallow in my misery while not moving a muscle. Henry, with the kind of constantly running nose that only seems to affect kids under the age of 4, was still full of energy. Crawling all over, discovering new toys, pulling himself up on things. Sure, he took longer naps that normal, but when he was awake, he was pretty much the same Henry that he is when he doesn't have a runny nose. Not me. I grumbled about doing the laundry, about how he was able to play and how I had to keep on watching him. I felt guilty about turning the TV on when he was in the room. There's really no way to rest when you've got a free-range 11-month-old. Even when he’s napping, I’m listening for the sounds of a too-strong baby cough. On Monday, when I decided to stay home from work, I kept Henry home, too. I wasn't going to send him to day care while I stayed home to rest. That's not any more fair than me coming to work bleary-eyed, sneezing, coughing and blowing my nose every five minutes. So we were sick together. We cuddled, we played. I folded laundry and Henry crawled over the piles messing things up. We discovered some new games. Henry loves to knock over baby puzzle pieces. He’s thrilled with a big plastic dump truck. I loved that they were far less energy-intensive activities than chasing him around the house saying “I’m gonna get you!” Not that the get-you game isn’t fun. It’s just not my favorite thing when it means I have to mop the floor afterward to catch all the virus he left behind. Or when the act of crawling after him makes me start coughing. I was grateful that I’d made a big pot of soup over the weekend when I needed to bring lunch to a friend. Instead of a single-serving of deliciousness, I had the perfect thing to buoy me through several nights where I was by myself, sick, and trying to take care of the baby. I was even more grateful when a friend offered to bring dinner over. I shouldn’t have turned her down, even though the veggie soup was in the refrigerator. I’ve learned my lesson. Next time, soup buddy, next time. And, while I can complain endlessly about being sick that day (Oh, poor me, I’ve got a cold. Who doesn’t, this time of year?), it wasn't all bad. I got extra time with runny-nosed, coughing, still-smiling Henry. A three-day weekend sponsored by Kleenex. Wednesday October 15, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:39AM CST on October 15, 2008
Last night Scott and I were having a discussion over dinner. I was frustrated, and he was listening and responding with his own take on the situation.
Henry was in his high chair, eating grilled cheese and being a cute little baby. He finished his meal and was drinking water from his sippy cup (and playing with a few pieces of grilled cheese left on the tray) while Scott and I talked. Then Henry decided to join in. He looked at me and went baalblbalalaabahahdggaa a a a aaaa aa aa, while waving his left hand in the air. He paused, looked at Scott and went babaablLAALllalallbaa aAAAAAA Aa bankahhaa, while waving his right hand in the air. Looked at me again, same thing. Looked at Scott again, same thing. He did this a few more times. I was amused, but then it hit me. He was imitating our conversation. Mom talks, Dad talks, Mom talks, Dad talks. We burst out laughing. He imitated that, too. Later that night, I called my mom and told her the story. She reciprocated with one about me when I was not too much older then Henry. She said she and my father had been having a similar dinnertime discussion. He was frustrated about something and told my mom that the next time it happened he was going to "give him a piece of my mind." My 2-year-old brain (That's how old my mom says I was. I don't remember this.) took that sentence in and mulled it over for a few minutes. "Daddy, does your mind come apart?" I apparently asked. "No," he replied. "Then how can you give someone a piece of it?" I asked. I'm not quite sure how they explained it to me. But Henry obviously got the gist of last night's dinner discussion. Scott asked Henry "Is that all this is to you? Blah blah blah blah blah?" as he went over to give him a snuggle. Henry looked up and said "Blaahlbahabaa," and flapped his little hand. Do you have any stories about how your kids (or you!) interpreted "grown-up" talk? Monday October 6, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:35AM CST on October 6, 2008
In some ways, it was so much easier when I exclusively breast-fed Henry. There was less mess and less time involved. So long as I was around, food was always available and he was never looking for anything else. When he was about 5½ months old, we started adding solids to his diet. Applesauce, oatmeal, bananas, mangos, zucchini, sweet potato, avocado, peaches, apricots, green beans, peas, squash. He ate just about anything we gave him. If he really enjoyed it, you couldn’t shovel it in fast enough. He’d take a spoonful, swallow and open his mouth back up like a baby bird. “Feed me, mama! Feed me!” As he got bigger, we started giving him some finger foods. He loves graham crackers, Gerber’s little fruit and veggie puffs, banana slices, bits of grilled cheese sandwiches, shredded cheddar and slightly smashed peas. The more he can eat himself, no matter how messy and slow, the less he seems to want us to feed him. One particularly frustrating mealtime found me singing “I love peas and rice. I love peas and rice. Mmmm! Peas and rice! Mmmm! Peas and rice!” with every single bite. Somehow, the little ditty got Henry to open his mouth up so I could feed him his veggies. Scott, my husband, asked me what melody I was singing to. I didn’t know at the time, but I’ve since figured it out. It’s a variation of Monty Python’s “I Like Traffic Lights.” No clue why that melody came to me that night, but it did. The other night, I mixed up some veggies and cottage cheese (something Henry’s liked in the past) and gave him a spoonful. He took one bite just fine. Bite number two was a little more work. Bite number three never happened. Henry gave me his “No thanks!” face. Tiny mouth all pursed up. Scrunched up eyes. Head quickly turned to the side. On the second try, I got the face plus a left hand thrust out to knock the spoon aside. What’s this? When did my good little eater turn into Mr. Picky? When he figured out that he can do it himself. So, for dinner, he had peas, puffs and shredded cheese. And lots of water from his sippy cup. Not an altogether bad dinner, but that’s going to get old really fast. I don’t want to raise a picky eater, but how is he going to learn to like anything if all I can give him are the six or seven foods he can eat by himself? One of the traditions of my childhood that I fully intend to implement is the concept of “the food.” My mom allowed everyone in the house to pick one thing that we never had to eat. My mom didn’t eat pears. Dad didn’t eat canned tuna. One sister didn’t eat squash; the other avoided wax beans. I swore off mashed potatoes. Henry’s a bit too young to tell us what food he can’t stand. Judging by his recent actions, he’d probably tell us to stop giving him mushy stuff. He’s a big boy now, darn-it-all, and he wants to do it himself. Now I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to figure out what he can eat, and what he can’t, plus what he will eat, and what he won’t. I’ve got to find time to experiment. Will he eat couscous? Eggplant? Pasta? Meatloaf? I think I need to add a cookbook to my collection, one that focuses on good foods for families with itty-bitty kids. If I could make one meal for everyone, things would get an awful lot easier. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Thursday September 11, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 4:43PM CST on September 11, 2008
Remember the Choose Your Own Adventure books? Being a mom is a lot like that, I’ve discovered. I’ve got an infinite number of things I can do. I can write Mommy Talk. I can check my voice mail or my e-mail. I could jump up and run, screaming, from the building. I could sneak out and spend the afternoon in a coffee shop. So, I pick. (Mommy Talk it is!) This happens all the time. Every. Single. Moment. And my brain happily plays along. Want to come?(Note: While based in reality, this is an exaggeration. Sometimes a little one, sometimes a big one. Read with a (large) grain of salt.) Henry’s been waking up at night. What’s going on?
You get up and check your e-mail. One of the cats jumps in your lap. You play online sudoku and crossword puzzles before starting a pot of coffee (decaf, but it smells good) and making an English muffin with peanut butter and honey for breakfast. You get to work early, but by 2 p.m. you can barely function, you’re so tired. Go to G. B You give Henry ibuprofen before his last evening feeding. He goes to sleep peacefully, but wakes up screaming at 4 a.m. What do you do?
You wake up late and groggy. Sleeping on the couch isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had. Your neck is stiff, you miss the first thing you were planning to do, and you have to skip breakfast. You sincerely hope someone brings doughnuts. Go to G. D Henry screams. And screams. And screams. This goes on for 30 minutes before:
You hate everybody. You hate the not-sleeping baby. You hate the sleeping husband. You hate the awake you. And you hate the fact that you have to go to work in a few short hours, and that you won’t be able to rest for another 18 hours. You go to work mad, and stay that way. Sourpuss. Nobody wants to eat lunch with you. Go to G.F You get up, change Henry’s wet diaper, and feed him. You give him a pacifier, then put him back in his crib before you try to go back to sleep. The operative word here is “try.” What really happens?
There’s nothing you can do to fix this problem. Let him cry, feed him, medicate him. Nothing you can do will ever make your baby sleep through the night. Get all the sleep you can, and take heart – the moment you walk in to get him after work is the best moment of his day (and probably yours). Who could resist that goofy grin and those happy, happy baby bounces? You’re the luckiest gal in the room. You win! Wednesday September 3, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:04AM CST on September 3, 2008
Last night I called my sister and asked if she wanted to hear why I was the worst mom in the world. Of course she did. You do, too, I bet. ***Disclaimer*** This is about poop. It will be gross. If you don’t want to read it, stop now. Click back on your Web browser and pick another blog. Seriously. This is nasty stuff. ***End disclaimer*** ... (more) Wednesday August 20, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:10PM CST on August 20, 2008
Having a baby's like having a time machine.
Henry's 9 months old, and I can't remember much of that time. It's in little flashes, confetti flicks of memory: Flick. There's an itty-bitty newborn cuddled on my chest in the hospital.Flick. He's sleeping in my arms, and when I pick him up to give him to someone else his little body stays curled up. Flick. He falls over because he's laughing so hard at friends' cats as they jump around. Flick. He drags whatever toy he can get his hands on with him as he scoots across the floor.
I don't really remember what happens between those flicks. My time with Henry is often taken up with the mundane tasks of mothering. Changing diapers. Feeding. Dressing. Undressing. Dressing again. Putting to bed. For his 9 months, I've been in fast-forward. At the same time, I've been in rewind.Never, since my own childhood, have the experiences of being young been so vivid. I can recall the songs my mom sang to me, the games my dad played, the trouble I got into with incredible clarity. Put those two things together, and I'm bouncing from past to present to future every single day. One moment I'm playing with Henry, making a stuffed monkey play patty-cake. The next I'm remembering my dad teaching me to cartwheel. Then I'm thinking about what things Henry will do as he grows. Will he play baseball? Golf? Will he want to be in football or wrestling? Will he like to swim? To fish? What will his favorite color be? His favorite food? The thing he hates to eat?
He's full of possibility. His whole life stretches out in front of us, a path leading into an unknown land. There's no map for this. No guarantees. He's learned to crawl. Soon, it'll be pulling himself up on the furniture. Then walking, talking, riding a bike, throwing a ball. Who knows where he'll be in five years, 10 or 15? He's my little time machine, and he'll take me along as he finds his way. Monday August 18, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:38AM CST on August 18, 2008
Jumping. Balls being thrown. The cats. Granddad. Peek-a-Boo. Nibbled toes. Birds flying. The breeze.
What makes your kiddo giggle? Wednesday August 13, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:57AM CST on August 13, 2008
She reclines on the couch, waiting.
All day long, this is all she could think about. This moment. Now. Soon, soon, it would be time. The house is quiet. Nothing could keep them apart. Nothing, that is, except him. He doesn't mean to interfere, she thinks, but he does. Just when she's finally succumbed, body limp. He can't help it. 2 a.m. 3 a.m. 4 a.m. He interrupts. He butts in. He shatters silence. He pulls them apart. An hour later, after a diaper change, ibuprofen, warm milk and rocking, he releases her. Back, if she's lucky, to sleep. Wednesday August 6, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:42AM CST on August 6, 2008
Henry's babbling constantly.
He's got pretty much a full range of vowels (no long e, yet) and three consonants down pat. There's B, as in ba ba ba ba ba. G, as in ga ga ga ga ga. And there's M, as in mom mom mom mom mom. With that M sound, which came out in full force on our vacation last week, I'm getting excited. But, he's got no clue that it means anything. He says mom mom mom mom mom when I'm in front of him. He says mom mom mom mom mom when he's looking at a flower. He says mom mom mom mom mom when he's eating peaches. I love listening to him discover his voice. He's fascinated with the new sounds, and repeats the newest consonant endlessly for a day or two before starting to mix things up. Instead of the steady stream of one baby sound, we've got full on babbling. Oh ba ba ba ga ma goy baaaah. It cracks me up every time. He sounds so serious sometimes, like he's giving us a little lecture. Other times, it's pure joy. In his little baby babbling is the first sprout of his little boy voice. I can hear it sometimes, hiding in there, the syllables that one day will be a shout of excitement, the exasperated whine of mo-om, an elaborate story or a sweet good night. Wednesday July 30, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 7:04AM CST on July 30, 2008
Henry learned to crawl today.
He woke up at 4 a.m., wet and screaming. I changed him, fed him, and he wanted nothing to do with going back to sleep. So up we got, and on the floor he went. Early-morning play time, and there's nothing he wanted more than to have the colorful ball in front of him. He dug in with his toes, pulled with his arms, and army crawled his way over there. Just to be sure it wasn't a fluke, I tried it again. And again. We've got a mobile baby, just in time for a cross-country train trip! Woo-hoo! A crawling baby means baby-proofing. We'll need to get cupboard locks and figure out a way to keep Henry out of the basement while letting the cats get down there. And, I'm sure it's just a matter of time before he gets crazy mad when he can't go somewhere because of a baby gate or a closed door. We'll be putting those barriers up for his safety (and our sanity), but I want him to be able to explore as much as possible, to discover his home on his terms. With the summer weather, we've been taking walks to discover the neighborhood together. We can walk to the lake and to the zoo, and I love having a destination when I take Henry out in the stroller. But each time we walk down the sidewalk, I'm surprised by how many houses have fences. I can hear people talking behind their 6-foot wooden fences. I hear parties and children playing. I see strollers left by the entrances, and I wonder who lives there. Is it another mom with a young baby? Is it someone who'd be interested in walking to the lake with us? Is this someone Henry could play with? I grew up in a somewhat rural part of Walworth County. I don't think anybody had fences in my neighborhood, unless they had horses.When we bought our house four years ago I was surprised to see fences surrounding our backyard. On two sides, there are 6-foot-tall wooden fences; in the back, a shorter chain link fence. We quickly got to know our rear neighbor, chatting over the chain link fence. We talk about gardening, about cooking, the baby, family, the newspaper. Over that fence, we've also met an around-the-corner neighbor and seen kids playing on the other side of the block.
Four years after moving in, we finally met one of the families that's on the other side of one of the tall fences. They live around the corner from us, and we ended up talking about a tree next to our garage, on their side of the fence, that needs to come down. I know Henry won't have the same childhood experience I did, with connected yards to play hide-and-seek or ghosts in the graveyard on summer nights. It's tough to even play a real game of tag in a postage-stamp city backyard.Right now I'm (sort of) thankful for the fences. It'll make it easier to keep him contained next year, when he's toddling around instead of crawling. But as he gets older, I wish they could come down, that he'd be able to play with the kids next door without walking out to the sidewalk. What do you think of fences? Why do you have them (or not have them)? Wednesday July 23, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:47AM CST on July 23, 2008
Sometimes in our house, you'll hear this forlorn yee-owww. Over and over again, one of our cats makes this noise. It sounds like she's stuck somewhere. Trapped. About to die. But spend a few minutes looking for her, and you'll find she's sitting in the basement - unstuck and unharmed - big cat eyes staring back. As soon as she sees a person, she breaks out of her cat-trance and trots upstairs. Now, we don't even look for her anymore. We just holler her name from wherever we are, and she quiets down and comes upstairs. We call it the bewilderment cry. It's like she's forgotten that she knows this place, that it's all OK, and that if she just went up the stairs, everything would be as it should. This morning, Henry gave us a bewilderment cry. Like the cat, it sounded like he was in serious trouble. He woke up at 5 a.m. (too early, by my clock). I tried to give him his pacifier to get him back to sleep, but it didn't work. So I got him out of his crib and cuddled with him in my bed. I didn't want to be awake and moving around just yet, and was hoping he'd give me some quiet time to fully wake up. About 20 minutes later it was obvious that he wasn't interested in quiet time. He was far more excited by the cat (who was also no longer interested in sleeping) walking back and forth. So we got up. I nursed him, changed his diaper and put his clothes on. We played for a while, and then he started getting sleepy. I gave him his pacifier and put him in his crib, turned the mobile on, and left him there. When I checked on him he was flat on his back, fists near his ears, staring into space. So tired. Five minutes later, he was out. That gave me time to sit down for breakfast - a vanilla latte, banana bread and cherries - before heading off to work. As I was getting ready to go, I heard this horrible cry. It sounded like a cartoon baby's cry: "Waaaaaaaaa!" Just one big awful noise. No breath, no repeat. I got to him before it was even done. And he was fine. Like the cat, he had no problem. He'd just woken up and flipped out. Maybe it was because the mobile had stopped, or his pacifier fell out, or that he was alone. I'll never know. But, just like when we holler "Catinca!" to make the cat stop her kitty freak-out, it only took a quick cuddle to right Henry's world. That's the power of parenting: I am all he needs. At least right now. Give me 16 years. Then I'll be the one making the bewilderment cry. Friday July 18, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:24PM CST on July 18, 2008
Is there anything more tempting than a high-priced, well-designed baby product?
I don't think so.
It's so easy to get sucked in by the slogans. Buy our high chair and have a better relationship with your child! Buy our modern stroller and take modern walks with your modern baby! Your little princess will have the sleep of her life in this amazing crib! I gave in twice. We registered for the Baby Bjorn because we'd heard other, cheaper brands weren't as comfortable. It was great for a few months, but by the time Henry was 3 months old, I was sick of it. It hurt my back and I couldn't do important household chores (like cooking) with it on, because he would have been in serious danger.So I shopped around and wound up spending almost twice as much as the Baby Bjorn initially cost to get a Beco Baby Carrier. This time, I was thrilled with it. This puppy's amazing. And, it's cute! I recommend it to anyone who's looking for a carrier, despite its $150 price tag. We've been taking Henry for lots of walks. We got one of those travel systems that come with a car seat and stroller. I've got no real problem with it. Stroller works great, car seat works great. But when I see something like this, I get stroller envy. Now this is a stroller. It's got a seat that adjusts in height, that you can flip to face front or back, that can even be used as a high chair when you're out to eat. Heck, it was even in the Sex and the City movie. Which I haven't seen. There's something about a product that touts its design as a way to boost my ability to interact with Henry that wants me to snatch it up, no matter the cost. The price tags for the items I've written about so far? Beco Baby Carrier: $150 Stokke Tripp Trapp high chair: $230 Bugaboo strollers: $530-$800 Princess Carriage Crib: $14,995Stokke Xplory stroller: $780
Granted, I don't want the crib. Not in a million years (even if I'd had a girl) would I have wanted that confection in my house. It cost almost as much as my current car. Even if I had a million dollars, I think I could find a far better way to spend $15,000 on my kid.
I find I have the same mental battles over toys. Henry loves pushing buttons. The remote and our cell phones have become incredibly interesting to him. I think about getting him some toy with buttons on it that he could hold and smash and make noise with. But I don't want to. I've got some serious toy snobbery going on.It's the opposite of my luxury stroller envy. I want his toys to be simple. When I pick out a toy for him, it's got no batteries and is made out of wood. His books don't pop up or play music. They're just books. I've been hunting around for something that would satisfy his desire for buttons and mine to keep his room filled with toys that don't do all the work for him. Maybe I need to find the Octotunes, or the NooBoo Pound-A-Sound. Or I could just get the darn piano tuned. Then he'll have 88 no-battery-required buttons to push. It won't satisfy my fancy-schmancy stroller desire, but it would keep me and the baby busy. Maybe then I won't have time to fantasize about blowing our mortgage payment on a stroller. Wednesday July 9, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:42AM CST on July 9, 2008
Henry's 8 months old now, and I'd love to do things with him as his interest in the world increases.
What things did you do with your babies in the warm weather? How about as they got older? What are the best things to do in the area now that it's nice out? Wednesday June 25, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:19AM CST on June 25, 2008
Henry's turning into a copy cat. For months, one of Scott's favorite ways to get Henry to giggle was to blow raspberries at him. Over the weekend, he started blowing back, and now, there's nothing we can do to keep him from sticking that little pink tongue out and blowing. Spit flies, and he's covered in drool. On Monday, I had him out with some friends, and one of them (who has a 2-year-old daughter) spelled a naughty word that he's normally said without hestitation. I told him he had a few months before he really had to worry about things with Henry, and he said he didn't want a word like that to be his first. I'm starting to think about what habits I need to change before Henry picks up on them. We don't always eat right. That's one. I have a habit of leaving a mess behind me. That's two. I swear. That's three. I'm sure there are many, many more that I'll learn too late - like when Henry does it himself for the first time. What habits did you break for your kids' sakes? What ones did they pick up on - good or bad? Wednesday June 18, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:17AM CST on June 18, 2008
Henry's 7 months old now, and every time we see his cousin Oliver (who is almost 4 weeks old), I realize just how much my little guy has changed since his November birth.
I hear Oliver's throaty newborn cry and realize I forgot exactly when Henry's cry changed from that urgent oowaaah! oowaaah! oowaah! to his big baby cry. Oliver's limbs are out of his control. Henry purposefully grabs things - like his toes - and puts them in his mouth. He turns things over and over and over, staring intently at each side. This morning he was fascinated by the ribbon tie on my sweater. He makes more noises every day, expanding his vocabulary from a constant ba-ba-ba that meant everything from Hello, mobile animals! to Come get me! to Wow! My voice sounds really cool inside this church! The other day, he blew on my fingers. Blew. Like he was scattering dandelion seeds. His gently exhaled baby breath tickled me. He's sitting up, he's scootching (it takes 20 minutes for him to go 6 inches, but he's moving forward), he's eating crazy amounts of food, and only waking up at night if he's smashed in the corner of his crib or can't find his pacifier. It's amazing to watch him discover the world. It used to be so small, and it's getting so much bigger. What discoveries did you watch your kids make? Any stories to share about their first months?Friday May 30, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:33PM CST on May 30, 2008
I'm a new mom, and many of the decisions I've had to make have been pretty obvious (should I give him solid food? should I find a way to get him to sleep better?), I still agonize over some things. Instead of looking at where we've screwed up as parents, share stories about some of the decisions you made that you take pride in. Where did you go right?
Wednesday May 28, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:47AM CST on May 28, 2008
The other night, we discovered that we've been buying toys for the wrong members of the household. To get Henry giggling, we don't need any new rattles, things that beep or goofy gadgets.We just need to play with the cats.
A few months ago, Henry and I were playing in his room when one of the cats walked by. He laughed and laughed and laughed. We went to visit friends on Monday night, and they took out this goofy feathery toy and started playing with their cats. I have never seen Henry so amused.He giggled. He belly laughed. He even snorted. So, instead of buying something new for Henry, we're going to hit the pet store and pick up some new toys for the cats. What makes your kid laugh? How do you get them giggling?
Wednesday May 21, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:13AM CST on May 21, 2008
A few weeks ago, I had a break-down. Once Henry hit 5 months, he pretty much stopped sleeping. He was eating every three hours again.
I coped pretty well during his newborn days, primarily because I could nap all morning and afternoon. Back at work, the twice-daily naps weren't an option anymore. I was a zombie. We started feeding Henry solid food at 5 1/2 months, hoping that would help. I don't know if it did or not. I was still too foggy. One night (a Friday) he fell asleep around 9, woke up at midnight and 2:45, and then refused to go back to sleep. After 90 minutes of him fussing in his basinet, I was done. I picked him up, carried him to his room, laid him in his crib, gave him his pacifier, and left, shutting his door -- and our door -- behind me. He bawled. He screamed. I refused to get up. Eventually, the baby's noise woke Scott up. I told him what was going on, and he went and put the baby to sleep. Shortly after that, a friend loaned us Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child.
We started putting Henry to bed at 7. He cried for about 15 minutes the first night, then fell asleep as soon as we put his pacifier back in his mouth. Every night, he cried a little less, until now, he almost always puts himself to sleep. And, he's unswaddled. He's been waking up only once to eat, and I can handle that. Some nights, he's sleeping pretty much straight through. Last night? He woke up a few times, but as soon as I gave him his pacifier, he fell back asleep. No midnight snacking! The one thing I worry about, he invariably flips himself onto his tummy to sleep. Since he's doing it himself, there's really nothing I can do about it.
But he's also quite the mover, and sometimes he winds up pressed against the crib rails. One morning I came in to find him against the side of the crib, with one arm hanging down between the mattress and the wall. I know that as soon as we think we've got him figured out, he'll change. That doesn't mean we'll stop trying!
Tuesday May 6, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:20AM CST on May 6, 2008
This weekend is my first Mother's Day as an actual mother. Last year, I was incubating. We went out for brunch at one of our old Milwaukee haunts, something we knew wouldn't be happening quite as much once the baby arrived.
It was kind of odd, being in that restaurant as a couple, surrounded by intergenerational diners. But it was nice. We got to dream, to look forward to the days when we could take our son there, years from now, when he had table manners, to share it with him. This weekend, luck of the draw, I'm scheduled to work. So we aren't making any real plans for Sunday. We've invited my parents to town for dinner on Saturday, and my husband will likely see his mother during the day on Sunday, and she'll get some time with her son and grandson. I'm sure we'll do something at least a little special on Sunday night. Maybe I'll get dinner cooked for me, so I can snuggle the little guy. Maybe there will be a card, or flowers, or a special hug. If I had the day free, I know what I'd want: Time with my little family. Just the three of us, doing something fun. It's finally nice out. I want to show the baby the world -- the flowers blooming in the back yard, the crazy dog down the street, the monkeys at the zoo. But that's my wish list. What's yours? Monday April 28, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:26PM CST on April 28, 2008
Just six months after Baby No. 1 came into our family, my little sister's giving us Baby No. 2. I want to be sure to give her some things that will help out in those first few overwhelming weeks of new parenthood. Here's my list of things I'd like to give: 1. A real meal, with main dish, sides, bread and dessert. 2. A fancy schmancy pedicure, with trusted babysitting for a few hours. 3. Do all the laundry, all the dishes and whatever cleaning needs to be done. I know when we first brought the baby home, all I could do was take care of him. Cooking and cleaning? Except for laundry, it all just piled up, and we ate lots of frozen pizza. What are the best ways to help a new mom? Friday April 25, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 9:53AM CST on April 25, 2008
When my husband and I were on our honeymoon, walking through the Jardin des Tuileries, he turned to me and said something along the lines of "We can have kids or do this every three years."
About three years later, he turned to me and said "I think I'd like to have kids." We planned our second big cross-Atlantic trip, to Ireland this time. When we got back, we started planning for the baby adventure. Fast forward two years, and we've now got a 6-month-old son, and no plans for international travel. This morning, he asked if I was ready to have Baby No. 2. I laughed. I'd like to get a year behind the last birth and have the first one closer to potty-trained before we set our sights on No. 2. We're pretty committed to having a second child. I'm the oldest of three, and he's an only child. Now that I'm an adult, I love having siblings. My two sisters are, I kid you not, my best friends. And, I can see that learning to deal with them prepared me in many ways for dealing with others. As much as your sisters make you mad, you can't really get away from them. You've got to find a way to work through whatever problem comes up, or you'll spend a long, lonely weekend in your bedroom. But some days, when I'm particularly sleep-deprived, and the baby's hit a fussy spot, and I've got no one else at the house to rely on, I wonder how on earth we could possibly manage a second little one in the house. How did you decide how many kids to have (or not have)? Do you wish you'd done something different? Monday April 21, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:02PM CST on April 21, 2008
That's what my mom said to me as I was eating my salad in a rare two-hands-free moment. She and I had gone to Geneva, Ill., for a wedding shower on Saturday. We had a happy baby along for the day, and he was playing in a little activity center thing-y right behind me.
My mom had turned around to look at him and his eyes were all red and he had that pursed-lip look we've come to associate with a poop. I put down my fork and pulled him out of the seat. There was poop on the blanket behind him, and oozing up out of his pants, covering the back of his little outfit. "I'm going to need some help here, Mom," I said. She took one look at the baby's backside and got up to come along. Diaper bag in hand, we made it to the women's restroom and -- no changing table. We stood the baby up on the counter (with help... he's only 5 1/2 months, so no standing on his own) and started stripping him down. Pants, socks, onesie, diaper cover, diaper. Everything went into a plastic bag, and the baby went into one of the two sinks. My mom ran water in the other sink, getting it ready for an impromptu bath. At this point, that was the only way he was getting clean. I popped him in and scrubbed him off, turning the water a lovely shade of mustard yellow. Then, out he came, and back into the other sink for a good rinse. We dried him off with a flannel receiving blanket and then moved over to a padded bench for the re-dressing. Diaper, diaper cover, one-piece outfit, and he's ready to go. By the time I got back, the salad plates were gone, and I had a covered plate of chicken and pasta left at my place. We've had a few memorable explosions. Usually, the diaper ones happen at home. I think this is the first real disaster we've had while out and about. What's the worst outing disaster you've had? How did you deal with it? Thursday April 3, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:57PM CST on April 3, 2008
Last week I asked for tips about breastfeeding my little guy at Miller Park. I got all kinds of responses, from the go-ahead-and-do-it-anywhere crowd, to those who thought it would be best for us to find a private place to take care of meal time. There were even some who thought that wasn't the proper place to bring an almost-5-month-old. When Saturday rolled around, we bundled the baby up in a nice warm jacket, packed a bag with all the necessities (cloth diapers, an extra cover, some disposables, two changes of clothing, a book and a few toys and our brand new baby carrier), and headed to the ballpark. We got into the park as they were announcing the line-ups. We got to our seats quickly, and settled in for some baseball. The baby was great. He was happy and engaged, looking around at all the new stuff. The one diaper change we needed to do went smoothly. Miller Park's got great baby changing tables. They're metal, easy to clean, big enough to set your diaper bag on, and have raised edges on all three sides, so the risk of baby rolling off is quite small. After that, it was time for him to eat. We had seats on the aisle, and I wore a nursing shirt. I don't think anyone other than my husband had any idea that I was feeding the baby, though his feet did stick out into the aisle just a little bit. If we hadn't had the aisle seats, there's no way I would have been able to nurse him in our seats. His feet would have been in someone's lap. But it was nice. I actually got to pay attention to the game for the 10 minutes he was eating. Afterwards, he conked out. We decided to leave after the sixth inning. It took a little while to get everything ready to go and the little guy fussed for a tiny bit while we were strapping him onto Dad's back for the first time. Once he was secure, though, the baby loved being in the carrier. Especially when Dad gave little jumps. It was quite the giggly walk. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Though it'll be harder to cough up the money for full price tickets. We won't be sitting in the first deck again for a long time.
Friday March 28, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:23PM CST on March 28, 2008
We've got our first big family outing slated for Saturday. We're packing up the peanut and heading to Miller Park for an exhibition game against the KC Royals. A little baseball, some hot dogs, roasted nuts. And with $10 tickets, even if the kiddo starts screaming, we haven't really wasted much money. Granted, we haven't been much for the stay-home school of parenting. I was hauling him to cafes and coffee shops the first month we were home. While he often slept through the whole thing, there were times I had to feed him. Once, in a booth at Culver's, after he woke up screaming 20 minutes into a 70-minute car ride. Since he's a breastfed baby, I had to get comfortable with quick-and-discreet nursing. I've been doing pretty well with it, but I've also had the luxury of pretty roomy accommodations. Even the booth wasn't that bad. I'm a bit nervous about the baseball game, though. The stands are pretty tight quarters, and while I'm a pretty fearless nurser, I also try to be considerate of the people around me. I doubt that any stranger really wants to be six inches away from my breastfeeding baby. What would you do? How do you take care of baby business in a big public place? Monday March 24, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:08AM CST on March 24, 2008
We started calling our kiddo Peanut in the hospital. My mom jokes that he's now deserving an upgrade, to Walnut, since he's gotten so big. Droolface is a new one, inspired by his constantly leaking mouth. Messmaker is a rarity, but sometimes incredibly appropriate, due to the volume of stuff coming from one end or the other. I'm sure there will be more nicknames coming from grandparents, friends and aunts and uncles as the years go by. It's so much fun to hear the cute names people give the little guy. What nicknames do your children have? Who gave it to them? Friday March 21, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:36AM CST on March 21, 2008
Scott and I both had the day off yesterday, and we managed to squeeze coffee with a friend in the long to-do list. Afterwards, she sent us an e-mail saying a bunch of really great things about how we seem calm, relaxed and happy, that the baby seems happy and loved, and that we're doing a nice job. We're lucky. We've got friends and family who have been incredibly supportive of us as parents. Though we have our share of people who have looked at us strangely when they hear we use cloth diapers, that I was taking the baby on a plane at 6 weeks, that we didn't get rid of our two cats before the baby was born, and that he still sleeps in our room. My sister is due with her first baby in about two months. I will be there to support her - not criticize her - as she and her husband make it through those hard first weeks and months. I wish we could all, as parents, make a promise to support each other. No one else really knows what it's like to be a parent, and if we can't look to our parenting colleagues for help, where else can we turn? Sunday March 16, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 7:30PM CST on March 16, 2008
Before our little one was born, we got a sling and a Baby Bjorn. I used the Bjorn a lot when he was first born and hated to be put down, but the sling made me a bit nervous, because he seemed so scrunched up that I was afraid he couldn't breathe. Now that he's four months old, holding his head up well, and weighing in at more than 15 pounds, I'm finding the Baby Bjorn puts too much pressure on my neck and shoulders if I wear him while I'm standing up. I'm able to use the sling a bit more now, because he can sit up and support himself a bit. But I don't like wearing either if I'll be moving around too much: They're just not comfortable for me. In two weeks we're bringing the little guy to his first baseball game, and we'll have to carry him into the stadium from the car. We like to camp in the summer, and trails aren't always stroller friendly. And, we've got a family trip planned to Glacier National Park this summer, and I know we'll be wanting a hands-free way to carry him around then. My sister is having a baby in May, and she discovered the Ergo Baby Carrier, which is like a backpack for a baby. It's got a sort of pouchy seat, padded straps, a waist belt and chest strap. While searching for more information about that, I came across the Beco Baby carrier, which is similar, but seems to keep the baby held in closer to you. I also really like the old-school simplicity of the Mei Tei style carriers, like the Kozy Carrier, but I worry that it won't be as supportive or comfortable as the more backpack-y ones. Unfortunately, these carriers seem to be hard to find. I've never seen a Beco or Kozy in person, and have only seen the Ergo at this one shop in Madison. I don't know anyone who owns one of these carriers. With steep price tags ($80-$130), I'm unwilling to shell out for a new one without a bit more info. I'd love to be able to see them in person and get a chance to pop the kiddo in for a few minutes to see how they fit, but I'd settle for some good old-fashioned information from experienced users. Any baby wearers out there who can offer advice? (Side note: I expect to share baby wearing duties with my husband, who's about 8 inches taller than I am.) Tuesday March 11, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 4:25PM CST on March 11, 2008
Our 4-month-old is just getting to the point where he's shoving everything into his mouth. His hands. Our hands. His sleeves. Our clothes. Every toy we give him. Books. He's also drooling like crazy. Slobber everywhere, all the time. Some people seem to think this means he's cutting teeth. His doctor said it's a big part of the way babies explore their world. Either way, I'm now paying a lot more attention to what's going into his mouth. So far, the only food he's had is breast milk, but he's starting to show some interest in my plate when I hold him on my lap while I'm eating. I planned to breastfeed exclusively for the first six months, and so far I've been able to keep up with his demands. I have to admit, I'm a little nervous about introducing solids. I don't know what to start with or when to start it. My mom advocates giving a bottle of cereal at bedtime, to get him to "sleep through the night," whatever that means. (Side note: He's already a pretty good sleeper, and goes for 4-6 hours the first time he's put down. I'm not particularly sleep-deprived anymore.) One of the things I like about breastfeeding is the control I have over what food the kiddo is getting. I know where it comes from, and what it's made out of. That's going to change as he gets older, but I'm not sure I'm ready to give him Gerber just yet. I'm entertaining thoughts about making as much of his baby food as I can, but don't know where to begin. Any advice from you moms out there? Wednesday March 5, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 2:20PM CST on March 5, 2008
In the hospital, just after my son was born, we marveled at his tiny body and giant hands. My husband, a guitar player, looked at those long fingers and saw them plucking strings and spanning frets. I saw them reaching across octaves on a piano keyboard. Before he was even born, my husband's uncle had visions of the little guy on hockey skates. A friend who has seen me perform in several plays asked if our son would be taking the stage. Three are so many things to share with him - all the activities my husband and I love - and it gets me thinking about how my parents guided my development. There were things they made me do, things they let me do because I wanted to, and things we both thought were good ideas. I learned to swim, to ice skate, to ride a bike and play piano. I took gymnastics, swam competitively, auditioned for plays, took up the French horn, sang in choir and chose dance as my double-major in college. My parents rarely said no when I expressed interest in some new thing. Looking back, I realize how great a gift that was. I don't know if they had any specific dreams or desires for me - if they wanted me to be a teacher, an engineer or an artist, for example - but they always encouraged me to explore and learn. My husband and I joke about how our little guy really needs to play the drums so we can have a house band, what we really want is to provide him the safety and support to find his own path. What dreams or desires do you have for your children? How do you support them as they grow? Wednesday February 20, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:38AM CST on February 20, 2008
We hear it all the time: Every child is different. But yet, there are so many "helpful" developmental milestone guidelines. It's been fun to watch him discover things about the world around him and himself (ooh! I've got hands!), but it's also hard not to compare him with those lists... or other children. What are some of the milestones you remember? The first time your child smiled at you? How old was she when she rolled over or crawled? Did you worry about when he would reach them? Due to technical issues we had to repost this blog entry. People's initial posts are pasted below: (5) Comments Posted by: HSmom on February 20, 2008 10:47AM EST When I had my first child, I was anxious for him to learn to sit up by himself. He had just turned 7 months old and I was thinking he was a little late reaching this milestone, when he finally did sit up. That very afternoon, I went to get him up after his nap and he was STANDING up in his crib!! I guess sitting was WAY too boring for him. After that, he seemed to be early with everything. The little guy I am caring for now is a week away from being 7 months old. He crawls all around, can sit, can go from sitting to crawling and then back to sitting, can stand and even walk around if I hold on to his hands. He waves and babbles. If you saw my blog the other day, he pulled himself up for the first time last week. My niece, however, had leg braces on for a few months, so she didn't crawl or even sit until she was more like 8-9 months old. Posted by: Cheers on February 20, 2008 10:57AM EST I wouldn't say I was 'worried' really. but sometimes I wonder if she (now 3) is where she should be. But it does seem to go in spurts like the other poster described. So, I dont think it makes any sense to worry. I just know that once my daughter could sit...she was MUCH happier and the "colic" seemed to disappear. :) Posted by: cyndi on February 20, 2008 11:10AM EST My 16 year old dd was a 33 week preemie, so I always 1/2 wondered if she would be a little slower in her development.... I got a little nervous when she turned 1 and wasn't walking, but the girl spent soooo much time in her sling and I suppose she figured "why bother?" After a while I started to get the impression that she was purposely not walking 'cause she didn't want to (who wouldn't like being carried around all day?), and sure enough, at 13 months, she forgot herself one afternoon and jumped up and ran after a group of kids she wanted to play with and then stopped suddenly, knowing that I was watching and the jig was up-- she walked *perfectly* after that. Stinker! She's been pulling little tricks out of her hat ever since;-) Posted by: Stinky on February 20, 2008 11:22AM EST As a father who's kids are now in high school let me say that you need not worry about whether you child develops at the same pace as the "guidelines" for other kids. My wife started walking at a remarkably early age. That didn't make her better/smarter/healthier/stronger than other babies her age. MY MIL still brags about how early she walked but I can't see how it makes any difference at all. Now that my wife is 43 nobody has ever come up to her and remarked what a great walker she is. :) My son never did crawl. He just rolled everywhere he wanted to go until he started to walk. That didn't hinder him at all in his development, he is now 6'5" and 250lbs and seems to get around just fine. Enjoy every moment of his development and discoveries. Don't place too much importance on whether he is on pace or not. Even if he is a bit late, he will catch up and never be able to tell the difference. My suggestion- if you havn't already done so. Buy a journal and write all of those little things down. When my kids were small, a friend and I would talk a couple of times a week about the funny things our kids did/said and laugh at all the stories. I wish to God that I could remember those stories but I can't. I would love to go back and refresh my memory and pass the stories along to my kids but I can't. So I tell every new parent that I encounter not to make that same mistake. Posted by: HSmom on February 20, 2008 11:31AM EST That's a great idea, Stinky. I'm sure you've heard this many times before and will continue to hear it many more times - but seriously, they grow up SO fast - you really have to savor every moment and enjoy it for what it is. The mother of the little guy I'm caring for now was complaining a little about how squirmy he is when she is trying to change his diaper and just trying to hold him or put him into his car seat. I reminded her of how it wasn't very long ago that we were all looking forward to when he would be able to roll over and then learn to crawl - we have to remember to be happy and enjoy this time when he is able to squirm around - to be able to crawl and be more independent, even though it can make caring for him more of a challenge at times. This is why some people choose to call the Terrible 2's the Terrific 2's - it is all the way you choose to look at it. The kids become more independent which is wonderful, but it just makes our jobs as caregivers that much more difficult. :) Wednesday February 13, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:32PM CST on February 13, 2008
Two nights ago, the baby gave me a great gift: He slept from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. Straight through, no wake-ups for diaper changes, nursing or lost pacifiers. Last night I so wanted the same thing. We went out for an early dinner after work, then headed home. By 7 p.m., he was ready to eat. I fed him, we played for an hour, and then he fell asleep. 8 o'clock. Baby's asleep and I'm ready to watch some television. Within 20 minutes, I'm asleep, too. I wake up about midnight, when my husband comes back in from shoveling snow. He helps me get the bassinet ready: preparing the swaddling blanket and making sure there's a pacifier or two at the ready. I lay the baby down gently, so he doesn't wake up with the position change. I swaddle him up, and he's still sleeping, eyes closed, what a sweetie. Still sleeping. And then... pop! Up go the eyelids. His blue eyes scan the room, focusing on us. But instead of a cry, a whimper or squirm, his face breaks into the biggest grin possible. I walk up, replace the pacifier, stroke his face between his eyes, and back away again. Another grin. And another. And another. I look at my husband. At least he's not crying. I go pick him up, and bring him back to the living room, where after five minutes of snuggling, he's fast asleep again. This time, the transfer from arms to bassinet goes perfectly. We have a sleeping peanut, sweetly breathing in and out in the dark room. Two hours later, I realized I made a mistake. I should have fed the little guy when he woke up at midnight. 2:30 a.m., and he's soaked, hungry and screaming. I change him, feed him and he's back asleep. I, however, am wide awake, and it's after 4 when I finally get back to bed. One night, tons of sleep. The next night, not so much. But I wouldn't have traded the sleep for the smiles. Wednesday February 6, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:34PM CST on February 6, 2008
Three months ago, when my husband was going back to work, I was overwhelmed with the constant duties of caring for our newborn son. In some ways, I envied his return to work. He didn't have a crying baby, the demands of almost-constant feeding, total sleep deprivation or baby poop to deal with. There were days when it was all I could do to manage to eat one meal and take a shower between 9 a.m. when my husband left for work and 5 p.m. when he came home. All I wanted when he came home was a few minutes without a kid attached to me. Now, I’m the one heading to work in the morning, leaving the boys home alone. I’m glad we’re able to have this extra month of full-time, at-home care for the baby. It’s made returning to work a bit easier. I get to see that our son can survive without me, at least for eight hours a day. Next month, I’ll get to see that he can survive day care. Leaving the house last Monday morning was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. And I was leaving an 11-week-old baby with his dad while I went to work 10 minutes away from home. That day, as I drove into work, my heart went out to every mother who’s ever had to leave their baby, especially those who have had to do it so much earlier. Now that I’ve been back at work for a week-and-a-half, it’s getting easier. Scheduling is harder, and I’m less likely to stretch a day out into the 10-hour range just to get something done. That kiddo is calling me, and I want to rush home to hold him close. Moms (and dads, too), how do you deal with going to work when you’ve got kids that need full-time care? Wednesday January 30, 2008
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 1:12PM CST on January 30, 2008
Between Nov. 8 and Jan. 27 I really had no schedule. Whatever the baby wanted, I did. Time to eat? Ok. Time for a diaper change? Got that covered, too. Time to sleep? No problem. Now that I'm back at work, I can't figure out where the day goes. I get up with the baby's last night-time feeding, take a shower, get dressed, make sure I've got all the supplies I need for the day at work, and then head in. Inevitably, I'm a bit behind. Today, I didn't have time to eat breakfast before rushing out the door. I had two slices of pumpkin bread at my desk, but I forgot to take them with me when I had to brave the cold to get to the courthouse. My mid-day break has been a combination of rushing, back to the office, eat some lunch, return the phone call from my husband telling me how things are going with the kiddo, write a Mommy Talk, and make it back to court by 1:30. I wasn't always the world's most organized person, but I had a pretty good handle on how much time things were going to take. Now, I have no idea. When I was home, that didn't matter. I just did what was necessary, when it was necessary. Since my day was all about the baby, that wasn't a problem. Now I'm trying to squeeze pumping sessions in between work duties, and manage to get out of here on time, so I can get home and snuggle the little guy. Any tips from you experienced moms as to how to get my time management skills back under control? Wednesday October 31, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:47AM CST on October 31, 2007
With a baby coming in about a week, we're starting to think about how to make the trips (both short and long) that come with the holiday season. We'll have a three-week-old baby for Thanksgiving, and we're planning an overnight stay with family for that one. There's far away (read: New Jersey) family that we'd like to bring the baby to visit within the first few months, and then there's the family frenzy of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Anyone have any tips on what to bring, what not to bring, and how to make car and airplane travel easy with a newborn? Monday October 22, 2007
Posted by: eyoung at 11:38AM CST on October 22, 2007
Call me crazy, but I love to make my daughters’ Halloween costumes. I realize you can buy perfectly good costumes for $20, and less, at just about every store in the city. My friends point this out to me every year (undoubtedly annoyed by my ridiculous resolve). But this is my annual foray into craftiness, the one time a year I pull out my sewing machine. And I tell my daughters they can be anything they want to be. ... (more)Friday October 19, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 3:33PM CST on October 19, 2007
So we're about two weeks away from having this baby, and it's time to start putting together the bags we're bringing to the hospital. I'm expecting a total hospital stay of about four days, from the start of labor through discharge with the baby. I know I'm going to want some books to read and some music to listen to. I should also bring some snacks, I think, just to make sure that I'm not completely at the whim of food service. So I'm looking for advice. What are the most important things to bring to a hospital when you're having a baby? How come? Wednesday October 10, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:48AM CST on October 10, 2007
With about a month to go before the little one shows up, it's time to get things ready. Over the past two weeks we have assembled a stroller, bouncy seat, crib and Pack n Play and washed three loads of baby clothes, baby blankets and crib sheets. There's still stuff we need to get (like the cloth diapers we're using), but we've got a little bit of time, and two showers left to go. One of the biggest tasks we needed to tackle was getting the car seat installed. I knew that the Safe Kids Coalition was having a car seat clinic today (that's Wednesday, Oct. 10), so I decided to call and see if they'd let me come in a day early to get mine checked out. Then, I'd write about it in the paper, and promote the clinic. You can read the story here, if you're interested. It took an hour and several tries before we were satisfied that we'd done things correctly enough for me to take the car in for the inspection. We hadn't made any giant mistakes in installing the seat (it was buckled in tightly, facing the right way, and the proper kind of seat for an infant), but there were things we could have done better. For instance, we used a rolled up towel to boost the seat up and give it the proper recline. That's what the seat's manual said to do. But Erin Donaldson, coordinator of the local Safe Kids Coalition, said towels can compress over time and may actually make the seat less safe than if you use a cut-up foam noodle, like the ones sold as pool toys. Donaldson gave some tips for car seat installation: * Check your car’s manual and the safety seat manual to find out how to install the seat. * The two most important things for car seat safety are to get the seat installed properly, and make sure the child is in the seat tightly. * Check the straps. You shouldn’t be able to pinch any of the strap’s fabric once it is fastened over the child’s body. Make sure children can’t lean forward. If the child’s back can come off the seat, the straps are too loose. * Don’t add things to the seat. After-market products that go between the baby and the infant seat, or the infant seat and the car’s seat, can make the seats less safe. That includes snowsuits and puffy jackets which can compress during a crash, making room between the baby and the harness straps. If it’s cold outside, put insulating layers, like blankets, on top of the seat, over the strapped-in baby. * Don’t use an expired seat or one that has been involved in a serious crash. If you don’t know a seat’s history, don’t use it If you have a car seat and want to have it checked out, the clinic is from 1-4 p.m. today (Wednesday, Oct. 10), at the Family Medicine Center on the St. Luke's campus, 1320 Wisconsin Ave. in Racine. If you can't make the clinic, but still want to get your seat checked out, these agencies do checks by appointment: Safe Kids Coalition, (262) 687-3366 Caledonia Mount Pleasant Health Department, (262) 835-6431 City of Racine Health Department, (262) 636-9201 Western Racine County Health Department, (262) 763-4930 If you don't live in those areas, contact your local health department to see if they know of anyone in the area that does the checks. In some communities firefighters are certified to check seats, and some hospitals provide the service as well. Thursday October 4, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:02AM CST on October 4, 2007
Newspapers all over the country picked up on a story that came out yesterday saying that pregnant and nursing women should eat more fish. That's right, more fish. I know when I went to my doctor early in my pregnancy, one of the things they gave me was a list of safe and unsafe fish, and limits on how much to eat each week. Fish can be high in mercury, and exposure to mercury can permanently impair some brain functions. Click here to see a 2004 Harvard School of Public Health press release about mercury. Now, a maternal nutrition group is recommending women eat at least 12 ounces of fish each week to promote brain development in their babies. Specifically, they recommend women eat salmon, tuna, sardines and mackeral, and say that a diet that includes those fish can result in children with better brain, motor and behavior skills. Click here to go to a page where you can find details on the group's recommendation and supporting research. I'm now planning to stop the cutbacks on seafood in my diet. I won't eat fish every day, but I'm not going to feel guilty about my tuna fish sandwiches or broiled salmon anymore. It's yet another case where there's conflicting research on what expectant and nursing mothers should do to give their kids the best outlook possible. How do you make decisions for your children when you hear about research like this? Friday September 28, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:34PM CST on September 28, 2007
One of the funniest things people say to my husband and I now that we're expecting is "That baby's going to change your life." Well, duh. Since we're first-time parents, there are a lot of specifics that we don't know. I don't know exactly how many diapers we'll go through each day. Or how many hours he'll sleep at a time. I don't know how loud he'll cry, or if the swing we've got in a corner is going to soothe him. But we do know that having a baby means change. Just being pregnant has meant change. I've never slept this much, eaten so much pizza, been kicked from the inside, had a belly so big it blocked my view of my feet. My friends who have children have been great, giving us a glimpse at the kind of changes that expand your heart. The love you feel for your child, and the joy of watching them grow. But there's this segment of the population who seem obsessed with informing us that NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. That's kind of the point. If we had wanted things to stay the same, we wouldn't have been interested in having a baby to begin with. We're looking at it as an adventure. We get to explore this new person, and watch as he explores the world. To us it may look like change, but for him, it's laying the foundation for the rest of his life. What changes did your children bring to your life? Wednesday September 19, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 4:04PM CST on September 19, 2007
This isn't really about parenting. It's about a pregnancy quirk. Namely, about cravings. I haven't gotten any weird ones, but, when I want something, I really want it. For the first three months, all I wanted to eat was macaroni and cheese, pizza and soup. I blame that on the nausea. Now, it's more likely to be a hot fudge sundae, fresh peaches or a hamburger and fries. Today, it's Dang! Butterscotch Root Beer. I was at lunch and saw one of the trucks drive down Main Street. Then I saw it stop on Sixth Street for quite some time. I stopped in at the three nearby businesses to see where they'd delivered some of that butterscotchy goodness, but no luck! The very nice bartender at McAuliffe's on the Square said that the other McAuliffe's (on Taylor and Meachem) had regular Dang! in the soda gun, but it's just not the same. I'm going to have to start calling around to find this stuff. Anyone know if it's stocked locally? Wednesday September 12, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 12:45PM CST on September 12, 2007
I was talking with someone about pregnancy today, and he said he could see a future where a scheduled C-section is the norm. That's scary. It got me thinking about a story I read late last month on how the maternal death rate has risen over the past several years. (You can read the full story here.) In 2004 an average of 13 women died out of every 100,000 live births. That's still a really small number, but the story went on to say that 2003's rate of 12 deaths per 100,000 was the first time the rate had climbed above 10 since 1977. That same article said an increased use of C-sections may have a lot to do with the rise in maternal deaths. C-sections now account for 29 percent of all births. That seems phenomenally high to me. Now, I'm not against C-sections. They save lives. But as a soon-to-be-delivering mother, it concerns me that the medical community could be pushing for unnecessary C-sections or just listening to women who want them for a non-medical reason. Ultimately, I pay my doctor lots of money to help me make informed medical decisions. Comfort and convenience rank far lower than health and safety. I hope that the medical staff with me the day I go into labor sees things the same way. But if they don't, I want to be prepared to ask for the kinds of things I want, and informed enough to know whether there's another option. Wednesday September 5, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 10:30AM CST on September 5, 2007
I was researching some baby product or other on the babybargains.com message boards over the weekend. I don't remember what the product was anymore, but I ended up clicking on the "Kid Food" topic. The top entry on it was an alert that the authors have withdrawn their recommendations for a whole mess of baby bottles because they contain Bisphenol A. They listed their reasoning here, along with some information for concerned parents. The baby bottles I had planned on using were on their bad list, so I went into search mode, trying to find something that didn't have that chemical in it. Some companies make bottles with a different plastic, but the bottles are super expensive -- like $10 per bottle. Glass bottles are safe, until you drop them and they shatter. I ultimately found another alternative that's affordable and seems to be well-liked. There are so many things that can hurt a child. House plants, cleaning supplies, the stove. There is no rule, no one thing I can do to keep a little one safe. I don't want to be the kind of parent that tries to remove all potential threats from the environment. But I also see no reason to knowingly expose a baby to something that could harm them. It seems like you can find research that says just about everything will harm a child. From pesticides to lead-painted toys to baby bottles, there's a threat everywhere. And, there's usually a study that says the exact opposite, too. I know these threats won't go away as the baby grows up. Then, I'll have a child who wants to climb trees like I did or smack flaming tennis balls with a hockey stick like my husband. What are some of the things that you did to keep your kids safe? What things did they do that made you nuts, once you found out what they had been up to? Wednesday August 22, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:18AM CST on August 22, 2007
I was talking about child care options with my mom the other night. She stayed home with me and my sisters for 12 years - until the youngest of us was in first grade. She said she doesn't regret her "12 year maternity leave." I don't think I could do that. Sometimes, just thinking about my 12 week maternity leave gets me nervous. I like the idea of a stay-at-home parent; I just don't want to do it. My husband, on the other hand, thinks it would be great. He says he'd love being home all day. And I believe him. Over the years I've seen several friends decide to have the father stay home. Now that I think about it, of the families I know where one parent stayed home, dads make up the bulk of the at-home parents. There are so many new household jobs that a child brings with it - diaper changes, feedings, bathtime, bedtime, extra laundry and a whole new scheduling problem for all the chores that keep the place running. How do you figure out who does what around the house? Is it an equal balance, or is one parent picking up the bulk of the work? Wednesday August 8, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 11:18AM CST on August 8, 2007
A year or two ago I read a newspaper article about how there's something about babies and small children that draw adults' attention. They're fascinating, these little humans, with their gurgles and cries and finger-grabbing. Who wouldn't want to just watch them? New parents walk into the room, carrying the infant, and everyone focuses on the baby. Pregnancy is giving me a little taste of that. I'm creeping up on the six month mark, and my belly has become a topic of conversation. I mean, it's getting pretty hard to miss. ... (more) Wednesday August 1, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 8:50AM CST on August 1, 2007
I'm now a bit more than five months pregnant, and I can now feel the baby moving several times, every day. That's an incredibly concrete reminder that, for now, I am this baby's entire world. I'm also the baby's filter. Everything I encounter passes through to the baby. What I eat nourishes both of us. The things I feel, and their corresponding chemical responses, get passed on, too. My heartbeat and blood flowing past are the loudest sounds around, and the baby hears my voice whenever I talk. In a few months, the baby will be out in the world. No more mom filter. It will be amazing to watch this little one learn about the world: touching, tasting, smelling, moving, seeing, hearing. Babies are like little scientists. Just about everything they do is testing the world around them. They test us, by crying when they need something. If we respond by helping them, they learn that their needs will be met. They drop things, and for them, that's exciting. Why wouldn't it be? No one has told them about gravity yet. They get to discover that on their own. In the process, they'll learn that mom and dad, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, will retrieve dropped things ad inifinitum. What a fun game! They'll learn to blow kisses, to play peek-a-boo, to sit up, roll over, crawl and walk. Soon, I'll be able to watch my own little one make discoveries and learn things. I won't be the baby's entire world any more, but that's OK. I'll get to watch the process of a new person discovering exactly what this world holds. Monday July 2, 2007
Posted by: Scott Anderson at 12:08PM CST on July 2, 2007
I was a lucky kid. I knew five of my great-grandparents. I have
wonderful memories of things I did with all of them – walking on the
beach in Massachusetts with Nana and Grandpa, playing in the garden at
Granddad and Great-Grandma Jones’ place, visiting my great-grandma
Dudick when I was 5. I also knew all four of my grandparents. My mom’s parents lived on the east coast. We usually saw them a few times a year, either when they would take a trip to Wisconsin to see us, or when we would pile in the car and drive east for a summer visit. My dad’s parents lived in Illinois, only 30 minutes from where I grew up. We saw them at least once a month when I was young, and after my grandma died, we had dinner with Grandpa every Sunday night. ... (more) Wednesday June 27, 2007
Posted by: Janine Anderson at 2:36PM CST on June 27, 2007
Last week, the Wall Street Journal ran a gigantic story on baby naming, and how it's become big business. The article starts out like this: "What's in a name? Stress. Sociologists and name researchers say they are seeing unprecedented levels of angst among parents trying to choose names for their children." I know it's a big responsibility, picking out the name that your little one will carry with them for years and years and years (unless, like Kentucky attorney Natty Bumppo you abandon your given name of John Dean at age 34. I'm not kidding.). ... (more) Wednesday June 13, 2007
Posted by: Rob at 10:00AM CST on June 13, 2007
I think “We’re having a baby” is code for “Please, sell us stuff we don’t need.” |
About This Blog
Mommy Talk Blog
  6 rating(s)
Categories
Older Posts
Current Entries
November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007
Latest Entries
Loading...
 |
Leave a Message
Leave a Comment
Request a Friend