1 Mother 2 Another

A couple days ago I was cooking in the
kitchen with Cora playing around my feet. I stepped away for a few
moments to get something out of the pantry and came back around the
corner to a sight most every Mommy dreads at this age –


A baby, on her hands and knees, rocking back and forth.

When Maddie woke up the day after
Christmas, her first words were, “I want to go see if my
trampoline is still here!” The day after that, she said,
“Let’s go look at my trampoline!” Madeleine jumps
on that thing fifty times a day, and I rejoice every time she does
so.

Ok, Christmas morning with a toddler old
enough to understand what’s happening but still young enough
to be wide-eyed and untouched by commercial greed is one of the
coolest things I’ve ever done.


Maddie was dancing in her pjs as she went to bed the night before,
awed by all the happenings: Church at night! How cool is that??
Then there was the careful deliberation for Santa’s treats:
What sort of cookies would Santa want? (She went with the chocolate
crinkles.) And don’t forget carrots for the reindeer, and a
piece of cheese for Santa Mouse. Madeleine took a long time
choosing where the plate went, the right glass for the milk,
everything. We decorated Jesus’ birthday cake for dinner the
next night. We got out our stockings and hung them up. We turned
out the lights and quietly sang “Silent Night” by the
tree, just like we had done hours earlier at church by candlelight.
Then Maddie sped off in her new pjs, our caution ringing in her
ears: “Remember, Santa knows if you’re only pretending
to sleep!”

As we stare into tomorrow’s open
space on the calendar, I find myself wishing I was Maddie, full of
anticipation and glee. She’s been looking at the stack of
presents piling higher and higher and wishing desperately, I can
tell, that she knew how to read so she could check out those gift
tags.


I, on the other hand, find myself worn to the bone with getting
Christmas ready and dealing with our home life –house buying
and selling, packing, and so on. Add to that my littlest one, who
is again getting up every hour or two at night which leaves me
sobbing helplessly at 4 a.m., and I wish I had my own Santa to
grant me a few of the things on my list. And you know what? It
turns out I’m not the only mom to feel that way.


My girlfriend Sandra passed this mom’s letter to Santa on to
me – I can’t find the author anywhere so my apologies
for not crediting you, Mom! But whoever you are, you captured
pretty perfectly some of the things I wish for. So here it is for
everyone else – enjoy! I’ll call you from my crisper
later on.

In keeping with my effort to be deliberate
about our traditions and what they teach our kids, I’ve
started a new one this year based on the typical Advent calendar
– you know, those paper things with windows to open and
pictures to see which help you count down to Christmas.


Last year I knew I wanted to find a permanent Advent calendar we
could re-use every year, becoming part of our family traditions. I
wanted a religious one, rather than a “hang a new present on
the Christmas tree” type of calendar or toy. I finally found
one that fit the bill at Constructive Playthings; with my
cheapskate patience, I waited until after Christmas and bought it
on sale for this year.

Mommyhood seems to move through two speeds
simultaneously – too fast, and interminably slow. On the one
hand, your kids seem to grow up so quickly – they’re
the same for months on end, until suddenly you really look at them
and you realize they’re a completely different person. Just
as you get used to the fact that you’ve got a baby, your baby
is a toddler and you wonder where your baby went. Blink, and time
has flown.


On the other hand, daily motherhood creeps by at a snail’s
pace, and I have to confess that this is wearing me down right now.
Yesterday was not a particularly bad day; no major meltdowns from
Maddie, no extra finicky-ness from Cora. No one needed a trip to
the doctor or popped a tooth or threw up or any of those happenings
that make you consider (briefly) committing a crime and turning
yourself in so you would have a nice quiet cell to yourself. But
still, by the time we got out the door and to the park I was nearly
in tears and looking speculatively around for someone to mug. Just
a little.

Cora’s an official seven-month-old,
and I’m entering this month with much trepidation – I
remember vividly when Maddie reached this age.


By seven months Madeleine was pretty much sleeping through the
night, but right at that age she began waking once or twice a night
and needing me to help her back to sleep. This signaled a huge
surge in developmental growth which lasted for three months, much
to my exhausted dismay. I remember those three months in a blur of
new skills, weird tricks, and little habits that almost drove me to
drink.

When Maddie was six months old and
experienced her first Christmas, Brian and I enjoyed the excuse to
shower our pride and joy with gifts but knew it didn’t really
mean much to her. Last year, we knew Maddie would walk wide-eyed
and awestruck through the Christmas season, and I reveled in every
second of watching her see everything for the first time ever: a
tree in our house! Lights on the bushes! A sock hanging in front of
the television! The experience reminded me of my own wide-eyed
early Christmases, and I truly learned what it’s like to see
with a child’s fresh eyes. This year, though not new and
fresh, is almost more exciting than any of the previous, though,
because for the first time we’re seeing Maddie remember
traditions and anticipate experiencing them again.

I haven’t been as diligent on
reading up on developmental milestones with Cora as I was with
Maddie. I’m pretty confident I can recognize if Cora’s
“normal” or not, and know how to stimulate a kid, if I
do say so myself. But I do periodically pick up a baby book and
read up on where Cora “should” be developmentally,
usually much to my husband’s dismay.


Because as practical and level-headed as I am, that all goes out
the window with a child. I think Cora’s doing great and am
perfectly happy with her status when the doctor casually mentions
she’d like to see Cora pushing up a bit better, which is the
point at which I freak out and fall apart. These things crop up
periodically and I try to simply get through them quickly with the
least amount of embarrassment (my own).

Cora has always had a mighty fine set of
lungs on her, but she’s now concentrating on putting those
lungs to a good (or at least better) use than the screaming
she’s been known for up until now.


Around five and a half months I noticed Cora moved from that
newborn infant gurgle talk to true babbling; she’d lie on the
floor and string vowels and consonants together in an obvious and
frustrated effort to communicate. I’d hear her experiment
with different letter pairings, constantly searching for the
“right” one that would get her message across. I could
see she was interested and trying to imitate everyone around her,
which I heartily encouraged.


And then she discovered singing.

Yesterday was our annual pilgrimage to see
the “real” Santa at Macy’s Herald Square. Brian
and I have been trekking for a photo with the big guy for almost
two decades now, having started when we were in high school
together, and have an ever-growing string of photos to look at and
see ourselves grow old before our very eyes. As fun as that is,
though, Maddie’s become just as enamored of the tradition as
we are and was really looking forward to a chat with the Man In
Red.


After informing kiddo that we’d be going to see Santa after
her nap, we spent the rest of lunch listening to Maddie practice
what she’d say to Santa, discoursing on desired toys while
simultaneously reflecting (in a very self-aware way, I thought) on
the very real possibility that she’d be too shy to speak to
him.

With almost seven hours of sleep under my
belt, I felt invincible yesterday. I wasn’t even phased by
the fact that Maddie went down for a nap and Cora refused to at
all; I simply took it in stride and got busy.


Throwing a cranky Cora in the sling, I let her snooze as I made
phone calls to realtors and got bills paid. Thirty minutes later, a
contented Cora woke up and we headed to the living room. As Cora
rolled happily on the floor I started cleaning up our wreck of a
house. We moved to the kitchen (me standing, Cora in bouncy seat)
where I prepped dinner and began work on our Christmas fudge;
it’s become Maddie and I’s habit to do some holiday
baking after her nap, and fudge was on the agenda for the day so I
did all the “boring” work so Maddie could step on up
for the fun stuff when she awoke. Since Madeleine was still not up
from her nap and Cora continued to beam, I boldly moved back to the
living room and began doing a bit of holiday decorating, stringing
up lights and opening boxes with Cora underfoot trying her best to
crawl.

Yes, we looked directly into the face of
the Beast and are still standing.


Barely.


With Cora at a healthy six-and-a-half months and still getting up
every couple of hours or more to nurse at night (several times on
vacation I nursed her four times in five hours), she has clearly
been needing to nurse to get herself back to sleep. Which means
it’s been time to teach her how to get herself to sleep
without nursing. Because frankly, the things I’m thinking as
I get up all night are not the kindest, and Cora really needs to
start sleeping through the night so we can have a better
relationship.


So we planned for the weekend, when Brian wouldn’t need to be
up early to work. And we set up a slumber party at Gamma’s
house for Maddie both nights so she wouldn’t hear Cora
crying. The house was empty, the stage was set, and right on cue
–


The baby was crying.

Nearly every day I find myself jotting
down something Maddie’s said, not wanting to forget that she
used to call grasshoppers “grasspoppers” or that she
sings “Crinkle Little Star”. I don’t always post
them because as fascinating as my child’s every utterance is
to me, I know it grows old for other people.


But (and you knew there was a “but”) recently
Maddie’s said a few hum-dingers, so here you go.

Preparing for an outing with a toddler is
a bit like organizing a shuttle launch; you hit a certain point
where it’s “Go/No Go” and once you run down that
checklist and make the decision to move forward, there’s no
going back. At a certain point, your child understands exactly
where she’s going and has built up a “taste for
it” in her mind, and if you’re going to change those
plans it’d better be for something even more fun. You are
committed, and God help you if you don’t follow through.

I have to admit that I have not been as
good with guarding Cora’s routine as I was with
Maddie’s when she was this age; when you’ve got more
than one kid, you simply don’t have the luxury of planning
your entire day around their circadian rhythms. But I do try to
give Cora her thrice-daily naps in some form, especially since we
all suffer if she doesn’t get them. Thankfully, I’ve
got a few options.

We’ve finally escaped from Texas
after several vacation extensions, and we almost didn’t make
it out this time. Bad weather here in New York caused several
flights around ours to be canceled, and our own flight was delayed
a couple of hours. Both girls held up well; though our flight
finally took off several hours after Maddie’s regular nap
time, she didn’t melt down beforehand and dozed off pretty
quickly on the plane. The sight of my sweet girl exhausted in her
car seat, Silky clutched in one hand with the other arm wrapped
around Elmo’s neck, is one I won’t soon forget. The
night was clear and cloudless, so the sparkle of city lights
thousands of miles below us out her window gave her a faint
illumination. Truthfully, I sat and stared at her for a long
time.

If there’s one thing this extended
“vacation” has given us, it’s a chance for Maddie
to spend more time with her family. Madeleine’s always been a
social person – she loves to play with others on the
playground and will spot a new persons and say, “I wonder if
she’d want to play with me”- but she’s not had so
much time around so many kids who, frankly, find Madeleine almost
as fascinating as she finds herself.


Maddie’s the youngest of the twelve cousins (except for Cora,
of course), with the next nearest being a year older and the oldest
right around 19. And since she’s not around most of the year,
she’s fresh entertainment to the other kids, so they all love
hanging around with her. But as much as they enjoy her company,
Maddie is in ecstasy in theirs.

What began as a long week visiting family
for Thanksgiving has turned into almost two weeks of house-hunting
and hanging around Texas. And though we’ve got a suite hotel
room with a mini-kitchen and more space than most, there’s
beginning to be a, well, smell.


One of the best parts of going on vacation is being able to suspend
all the drudgery of your everyday life; bill-paying, housekeeping,
laundry are all put on hold for a few glorious days. Sure,
there’s a mound of dirty clothes and a stack of unpaid bills
waiting for you when you return, but for that brief bit of time
beforehand there’s no such thing as chores.

Have I mentioned I’m an organization
freak? I’ve got three dry-erase boards on my refrigerator
alone (meal planning and leftovers board, contents of freezer
board, and Cora’s solid foods tracking board if you’re
interested); I own and frequently use a label maker; I wrote
letters to Container Store for six years begging them to come to
New York City (Notice that they did. I met the owner once and may
have actually squealed). So I am all for anything that will help me
organize our family life.


I’ve seen a lot of “mommy organizers” out there,
and have bought none of them; many seem to have fun blanks to fill
in but end up requiring more work, not less. So when I stumbled
acrossErin
Condren’s website touting her calendar and family
planner, I was skeptical but gave it a look.

When you live in New York City, your kids
don’t get a lot of experience riding in the car. In general,
Maddie and Cora get in the car every Sunday to go to church and
perhaps once a week more – heading to the mall, the zoo, or a
specific errand. But by and large, my girls travel a less
industrial way: we walk. Maddie gets in the stroller while Cora
rides on my chest, or Maddie walks while Cora reclines in her
car-seat stroller.

Being on vacation means everything gets
done a bit differently; you’re not exactly in your comfort
zone surrounded by all your parental aids (read: distractions and
toys). For example, most meals we eat as a family at our dining
table, with Maddie in her booster seat and Cora happily flailing in
her bouncy seat on the floor next to me. The bouncy seat is a great
place for Cora, since it affords her a bit more of a vertical view
than sprawling on the floor while not over-taxing her
“sitting upright” muscles.


While on vacation, though we’ve brought the bouncy seat with
us, we don’t cart it around everywhere we go and so often end
up at a meal without it. Which means that Cora now spends meal
times surfing laps, sitting at the “big girl” table.


All of this to say that I am getting plenty of chances to witness
Cora’s lethal arm “thing”.

We got our big travel day for Thanksgiving
out of the way, and I’ve been simply too exhausted to post.
Partly because the travel was tiring, but mostly because of how the
day started.


We arranged to wake up a good two hours before our car picked us up
for the airport; I assumed that would be enough time to pack our
last-minute things, get the kids ready, and so on. And it would
have been except that:


Ninety minutes before the car arrived, our upstairs tenant of our
two-family house knocked to tell us there was no hot water. Brian
staggered to the basement to re-light the pilot, only to be greeted
by four inches and rising of water in a flooded basement. Yes, the
hot water heater broke.

So I did something today that I’m
not necessarily proud of, and as I sent off an email to my dad
filling him in it occurred to me that I might not be the only one
who does this sort of thing.


We’re heading out tomorrow for the Lone Star State, embarking
on our annual Thanksgiving pilgrimage. I’ve been organizing
and making lists and packing for the last two weeks trying to get
this behemoth of a show on the road, but you know how it is with
kids; 90% of the stuff can’t be packed until you’re
about to walk out the door, so often do you use it all.

This is a complete off-topic blog, so if you’re looking for cute Maddie stories you’re out of luck.

This time last year I spent the first night ever away from Maddie. She was almost eighteen months old, and the occasion was my grandmother’s funeral over Thanksgiving week. I was very close to her and felt the loss enormously, though I knew my grief was completely selfish; she’d been in a fair amount of pain for a while, and was completely ready to literally meet her maker. My grandmother was never famous, but her impact on this Earth and on the lives around her is incalculable, and attention must be paid.

So here I go.

Yesterday us three girls took a trip to
the ole doctor once again. Cora had her six-month checkup, while
Maddie simply needed a blood draw and a flu shot. Now, the last
time we went to the doctor all together, Maddie had several
vaccines and was very traumatized: she refused to take her clothes
off and get weighed and measured, and cried for a long time during
the exam. So you can imagine how excited I was to repeat this whole
thing, but by myself instead of with Brian’s help.

When Maddie was around ten months old,
she’d occasionally wake in the night still, crying. I’d
go in to comfort her and would stand, rocking her and singing,
until she calmed down and could be put back down to sleep. She came
to have a few favorite songs (though there was no telling why one
would catch her fancy) and I quickly established a “Greatest
Hits” list.


Now that Madeleine’s older and able to sing songs herself,
she will often request a specific song of me at odd times of the
day, which she’ll then focus on intensely as she tries to
memorize it herself. She’ll have her own name for a song and
I’ll have to figure out which one she means before I can
deliver.


All of this is well and good, except that my precocious child
isn’t content simply to listen to the music, or even to sing
along herself. She is now digging into the lyrics and wrestling
with the meanings, trying to understand what she’s hearing
about. No big deal, except when you’re singing whatever weird
song happened to capture her attention as a ten-month-old at 3
a.m.

For all you parents who are getting a
start on your holiday shopping, href="http://clickserve.cc-dt.com/link/tplclick?lid=41000000010845593&pubid=21000000000082989"
target="_blank">One Step Ahead is offering free shipping
for the rest of the month on orders over $85; just enter
“VIXEN” in the coupon code when you check out. We order
a lot from them, so I may try to take the time to pull our order
together and take advantage of it.


I’ve been doing a lot of product testing recently, so
I’m going to let you know about a couple things I’ve
come across that I really like in the next couple weeks. I’ll
also take some time to spell out great gift suggestions for
age-appropriate toys for babies through toddlers. I’m
definitely not trying to move away from talking about Maddie and
Cora, and no one pays me to mention their products in my blog
– I’m just trying to give fellow parents a bit of help
as the hectic holiday season gears up. So keep your eyes open over
the next few weeks!


And by the way, remember me mentioning yesterday that Cora
couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time every
night? Of course, as soon as I complained she slept last night
until 5 a.m. Unfortunately I didn’t get to bed until after
midnight, and was so used to getting up that I woke every 2 hours,
but it was still better than it had been. Here’s hoping that
continues and we’re over that bump.

Guess what’s on my mind.


Here’s Cora’s typical nighttime schedule right now:


9 p.m. Cora goes through her bedtime routine, with a nursing and
rocking to sleep. I usually escape around 9:45.

10:30 p.m. Cora wakes up and must eat again.

12:30 a.m. Cora wakes up and must eat again.

2:30 a.m. Cora wakes up and must eat again.

4:30 a.m. Cora wakes up and must eat again.

6:30 Cora wakes up and must eat again.

8:30 or 9 a.m. Cora gets up.

Yesterday we talked about traveling with
infants who are not yet mobile: babies who have not yet started
crawling, cruising, walking, etc.


In short, kids you can still muscle around and dominate relatively
easily.


Today we’re going to cover the munchkins who have, shall we
say, a will of their own and a way to go about exercising it.

With the holidays fast approaching
–especially that Family Gathering Marathon, Thanksgiving
– it’s time once more to start thinking about the
dreaded Holiday Traveling. Last year I wrote up some tips for
getting through it all and thought that they bear repeating, so
here they are. Much of this was passed on to me by my Mommy Focus
Group when I first started flying with Madeleine, but some of this
was learned the hard way. For the purposes of simplicity, I’m
splitting kids into two groups – babies who aren’t
mobile and toddlers who are. So I’d apply this article to
anyone just barely crawling or younger; tomorrow I’ll cover
getting around with mobile kids.


First, the good news. Traveling with a newborn, while daunting, is
actually easier than traveling with an older baby or toddler.
Newborns and young infants sleep a lot and you don’t have any
meal or snack planning to take into account.


The bad news, though, is that young infants are wildly
unpredictable, aren’t usually on a schedule yet that you can
plan around, and generally have the potential to make the trip a
nightmare for your whole family and a plane full of strangers.

One of the worst things about being
unemployed for so long (other than the obvious things, like the
possibility of losing your home) was how I had to curtail my
baking. I dearly love to heat up an oven and bake up a little
happiness, and Maddie has grown to really enjoy our times in the
kitchen as well; she’s probably the only two-year-old I know
who not only has all the ingredients for butter cake memorized, but
can identify Fiori di Sicilia by smell. So as the holiday season
started to rear its glittery, chocolate-filled head, I felt stabs
of longing even as I knew we wouldn’t be able to spend a lot
of money on my traditional whirlwind of baking and mailing out
boxes of holiday goodies.


Fortunately for me, my husband is gainfully employed and the
bakefest is back on. Scaled back, of course, as we recover from the
financial drain of eight months of no income. But back on it is.
With my recipe books piled high around the kitchen and my note
spiral open to my documentation of last year’s holiday baking
forays (yes, it’s sad but true), I’m now in hog
heaven.

As I mentioned yesterday, we’ve had
our house on the market for a while. We accepted an offer on it a
couple weeks ago and the reality of our leaving New York was
settling in for me that evening as we sat down to a delicious
dinner of leftovers.


“You ok?” Brian asked me.


“I’m just sad,” I replied softly. But apparently
not softly enough.


“What are you sad about, Mommy?” Maddie piped up.


Now, as I’ve said, I don’t believe in lying to our
kids, especially for convenience, but this was a burden I
wasn’t ready to share with her yet. We hadn’t even
discussed the possibility of her leaving the only life she knows
and never coming back yet. So I quickly scanned my mind for
something, and came up with what I thought was a harmless
answer.

As many of you know, my husband lost his
job the beginning of March, and we’ve spent the past eight
months in a desperate search for new work. Worrying about
unemployment and health benefits was no fun with a second baby on
the way, but it was even less fun five months later as our savings
dried up and we didn’t know what was going to happen next.
Realizing we were running out of money, we put our house on the
market with nowhere to go, trusting Brian would get a job somewhere
and reasoning it was better to sell our house than simply hand it
over to the bank.


So it is with great relief that I announce that Brian’s got a
new job. It’s for a company he’s interested in, and a
position he’s very excited about. Me, I’m very excited
about the whole paycheck thing.

We’ve had a luxuriously long Indian
summer here, with highs almost to 80 degrees just last week.
We’ll have a couple days of “cold” – maybe
55 or 60 for a high – before hanging around in the 70s again
a while. But these little forays into balmy weather are becoming
fewer and farther between, and as I look at our forecast with a
high of about 51 for the next week, I’m having to acknowledge
that the cold is settling in to stay.


Which means it’s time to get out the gear.

Yesterday Maddie went trick-or-treating for the first time ever, and spent several days beforehand in breathless anticipation. I’d picked up her costume a month ago and refused to let her see it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to refrain from begging to wear it and knowing that if she wore it she’d be bored with it by Halloween. But we’d talked about going trick-or-treating, and she was excited and keyed up when the big day arrived.

There are a couple reasons she was looking forward to it so much: first, my kid loves to dress up. We’ve got a big box of my old costumes in the playroom and she’ll dig into almost every day, dressing up herself and whoever else she can sucker into the game with her. Second, Maddie had never had candy and knew she was going to have some on Halloween. She didn’t know what it was, but had read about it enough in her Corduroy Halloween book to think she’d like it and couldn’t wait to try the stuff for herself.

Ever the bookworm, Maddie will get into a
rut for her bedtime readings; she’ll fixate on two specific
books and ask for them over and over and over again each time until
everyone except her is heartily sick of them. Sometimes
they’ll have nothing to do with each other –
they’ll simply be the two books she’s interested in
right now. Other times there will be a theme – both books
about birthdays, say, or two books with bunnies in them. But most
times they’ll be two books in the same series, such as the
Little Wombat books, or the Corduroy series.


Maddie’s Gamma brought home two new Corduroy books recently
– one about a beach trip, and one about Corduroy’s
Halloween party. Going into her typical obsession mode, Maddie
listened to them over and over and over until we all had them
memorized.


Including Maddie.

Cora’s now five and a half months,
and I think she’s pretty primed for solid foods.


She’s been eyeing family dinners for some time now, and is
moving from the silent observation to the begging stage. She
usually starts the meal out in her bouncy seat, where she keeps up
a persistent, nagging dialog until someone puts her on a lap. As
the meal goes on, her complaints become louder and more whiney
until she’s out-and-out stridently and piercingly saying,
“Feed me!” Ad that to the lunging towards the fork she
does every time it heads for my mouth, and I don’t need a
brick wall to fall on my head to figure out what’s going
on.

My girlfriend Renee surprised me with a
visit this weekend to help me celebrate a recent birthday.
Completely stunned, I saw my weekend go from one planned with
laundry and grocery shopping to a couple of days with brief little
stints running around the city shopping, gabbing, and eating good
food.


In the entire two days she was here, Brian only had to give Cora
one bottle – I was able to work my little forays into fun
around her schedule pretty well. But I clearly could not have done
all my fun stuff without a lot of sacrifice on the part of my mom
and husband, who both stepped up to the plate and generously
covered all childcare for the weekend. I felt rejuvenated,
refreshed, and recharged after a few simple fun outings and the
company of one of my best friends.


Which led me to think about how much my priorities have changed for
“downtime”. As Renee and I stood in Anthropologie
gleefully trying on delicate, pretty, dry-clean-only,
doesn’t-go-with-spit-up clothes, I tried to figure out the
last time I went fun shopping with a girlfriend. And other than a
few hectic trips to the outlet mall, either with Maddie in tow or
with a big belly, the last time I can come up with was another
shopping trip with Renee.


In 2003.

Cora’s over five months now and
still not sleeping all through the night: most nights she still
gets up at 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. for a nursing, rising finally around 9
a.m., though the past couple of nights she went until 4 or 5 a.m.
for her first feeding (which I much appreciated!).


It was right around this point that we sleep-trained Maddie, but
Cora’s clearly not ready for this. First and foremost,
Cora’s still being swaddled to sleep. I’m astonished
she still needs it; again, we started putting Maddie down
unswaddled before she was three months old. But Cora still flails
and startles quite a bit, which wakes her up at night unless
she’s wrapped.


A part of me has been impatient with the swaddling, wondering if
she really needs it; after all, I can’t convince myself to
sleep-train her until her hands are free to help her self-soothe,
and I’d like to get that show on the road soon. Plus, I worry
that she’ll become dependent on the swaddling and start to
need it to fall asleep, like a comfort object. So I decided to try
to wean her off the swaddling blanket, testing out the unwrapping
for nap times over the past few days.


The result? Disastrous.

I’ve always been the kind of girl
who enjoys her bedtime pampering; anytime I’d travel for a
show, you can bet my good down pillows were stuffed into my bags,
along with my down comforter if I could spare the space. Once
married, I quickly brought my husband around to my point of view
and now he’s as spoiled as I am, luxuriating in those
high-thread-count sheets that I score by religiously scouring the
clearance bins, and tucking himself under our yummy down blankets.


And I can already see Maddie following in the family footsteps. She
loves nothing more than to climb onto our big bed and snuggle
underneath the sheets, curling up on her side and stroking the
silky duvet cover. When she was younger, she’d happily pat
the fluffy, feather-filled bedding and you could see the
wistfulness in her eyes that one day she’d have a snuggly bed
like this herself.

Since I’ve been blogging for over
two years now, I often find myself stopping throughout the day and
writing a piece in my head. I’ll see Maddie do something cute
or use a favorite baby product and think, “I feel a blog
coming on!” And occasionally, I have a bad day.

There are levels to bad days, only one of
which is blogworthy. There are those mildly annoying happenings
which, if you blog about it, just sounds like whining. Then there
are those situations that are so horrific you can’t talk
about it: perhaps time and distance will enable you to put it down
on paper, but for right now it’s too much.

And then there are the bad days that are
not life-changing, but so much more than mildly annoying that you
find yourself reaching for the Haagen-Daz. And even as you’re
cracking open the spoon drawer, you know that at sometime in the
near future you’re going to laugh about this, and perhaps
even dine out on this story that, with distance, will become funny
and not hair-pullingly distressing.

Or maybe you’ll just blog about
it.

When Maddie first bonded with her Silky
and we saw how truly attached to that thing, I had a spurt of
foresight and ordered a second, “backup” Silky for her.
We try to keep them in regular rotation so they wear down at about
the same rate, rather than have one become tattered and ratty and
need to pull a shiny, pristine replacement out of the drawer.
We’ve gone to great pains to keep Maddie from seeing both
Silkies at once and have successfully kept up the illusion that
Silky is truly a one-of-a-kind.


One of the benefits of having two is that we can wash the thing,
and with all the “love” it gets showered on it, a
regular bath is very much in order. I try to swap them out every
couple of weeks, getting one clean and fresh and in the backup
drawer while she’s not looking. It’s important that
this is done somewhat frequently or the difference between
“clean” Silky and “dirty” Silky will be
very evident and the jig will be up.


Apparently.

Most people who know me would agree that
I’m borderline obsessive/compulsive. I use that term in the
cute way, as in “organizational freak” or “my
look at how well her spices are alphabetized” rather than in
the “I have to touch a doorknob five times before I can use
it” kind of way. The OCD tendencies I come by honestly in my
family – my grandmother frets when you don’t hand wash
a spoon the “right” way. And I’ve always
considered a little OCD to be a good thing in a mommy; Lord knows
you’re sunk without some method of organizing your life to
get through the multi-tasking days.


But I would never wish the real thing on anyone, much less my kids,
so I’m careful to never let my compulsions (like having to
count the stairs as I go down them. Always.) show in front of the
girls. Unfortunately, I’ve seen some signs in Maddie that at
the very least, she’s got a touch of the obsessive in
her.

Cora’s nearly five months now, and I
can’t believe the time’s gone so fast. I remember that
at this point with Maddie I felt as if I’d had her forever,
but right now it seems as though Cora just came home with us.


Part of this, I know, is that I’m not a new mom and
haven’t had to adjust to such a different life –
Cora’s sort of slipped into the family stream more easily
than Maddie, mostly because adjusting to two kids is way easier
than adjusting to having one in the first place. So we travel down
our day-to-day road enjoying each other, when suddenly I look up
and she’s not a newborn anymore!

Seems like this is the time of year when
the germs are back in force; Maddie has already had two colds this
year, one a summer cold picked up at a birthday party and one
simply from playing at our playground. This wouldn’t be such
a big deal, except that means that my baby Cora has also had two
colds. And she’s only 4 ½ months old. Contrast that
with Maddie, who had her first illness at almost fourteen months,
and you can get the gist of my frustration.


There’s a lot of misinformation out there on the Internet, as
well as some old wives’ tales that are simply incorrect. So
to save us all some precious sick days this season, here’s
some info on kids and germs – use it (to stay) in good
health!

Ever the reflecting pool that shines the
unvarnished face of my parenting skills back at me, my daughter has
come up with a new game – Elmo Disobeys.


A few days ago Maddie was happily putting Elmo to sleep in my room
– she often uses Cora’s bassinet for Elmo when
it’s empty, and will entertain herself for quite some time
getting his blanket, monitor, and so on, just right. I’d
already whispered night-night to Elmo and tiptoed out, even though
he was still awake and only to the pajama stage of the ritual; I
needed to use this time to get some things done in the kitchen and
figured Maddie could handle the rest on her own.


Suddenly, I hear: “No! No, Elmo! It’s time to go to
bed, RIGHT NOW!” And then, “Mommy! Elmo’s
disobeying!” floats down the hall at me.


This I’ve got to see.

A few weeks after Cora was born, Maddie
started waking up crying. Since she had just hit two years old, I
thought perhaps nightmares were beginning. But she wasn’t
waking up screaming – just crying, almost moaning. We’d
go in and talk to her and she’d tell us she was scared of the
monsters in her room. I chalked it up to the change of having a new
baby in the house – perhaps Cora’s cries were waking
her. So we consoled her and talked about it a bit, but didn’t
worry too much.

Cora’s nearly five months (!) now,
and as she becomes increasingly alert and aware of her
surroundings, it’s become increasingly difficult to get her
to concentrate on her meal.


I remember witnessing this stage for the first time with a friend
of mine: she brought her 4 ½ month-old over for a playdate
with then-8-week-old Maddie, and we chatted while the girls stared
at each other on the carpet. When Lily got hungry, my friend began
nursing. After only a few seconds into it, Lily began pulling off,
looking around and smiling at everyone; only when my friend put a
pillow up to block the baby’s view did she get down to eating
in earnestness. Since I had a 2-month-old who at as if she’d
never had breastmilk before and thought it was the best meal EVER,
I couldn’t imagine competing for her attention.


Then, of course, Maddie hit around 4 months and began acting the
same way, and now it’s Cora’s turn.

The second time around with pregnancy, you
think you’re prepared. You know what’s going to happen
afterwards – the fact that you’ll still look six months
pregnant even after the kid comes out, the fact that your ankles
will still be swollen a couple days later. You have a good idea of
how long it’ll take you to lose that post-partum weight, and
have already vowed not to cry when you’re wearing your
“fat pants” still four months later (I type as I eat a
Newman's Own Ginger-O's. Hey, they're organic!).


All of this experience and knowledge is a good thing, but
let’s face it – we still freak out. And for me,
it’s all about the hair.

Ok. So Maddie’s been at the terrible
two’s for a while now, and I felt pretty confident that
I’ve got the hang of it. I am patient. I am kind. I am
loving. I am firm. I demonstrate love and forgiveness, while giving
her boundaries and consequences.


And I am this close sometimes to knocking her skinny hiney
into next Tuesday.

Maddie has taken pretend mothering to a
whole new level, and I’m not sure where all this will end.


In addition to all the other things she does for Elmo, Maddie now
has an exact replica of her own nighttime routine that she
steadfastly performs for him. I mean, she’s always put her
dolls and Elmos to bed, in a sort of, “Here you go Elmo! Time
to get in your cradle! Here’s the covers! Night Night!”
kind of way. But over the past few days she’s been intensely
interested in making it as exactly like her own routine as
possible

A few days ago I was working in the
kitchen. Cora was grooving in the bouncy seat while Maddie
“cooked” in her own kitchen, and after several moments
Cora became restless and started whimpering. In the midst of
cutting up raw chicken, I opted not to touch her and began singing
soothingly to her, a trick that sometimes works. Hearing the music,
Maddie came into the kitchen to investigate.


“Why are you singing like that, Mom?” she asked.
We’re a big music household so there’s often someone
singing, but she was curious why I was singing a lullaby softly.


“Well kiddo, sometimes when Cora gets fussy, she feels better
if someone sings a soft song to her. Babies can often calm down
with a quiet, pretty tune.” Satisfied with the answer, Maddie
went back to her own play.

Cora is four and a half months now, and is
driving me crazy with the sleep thing.


I know that every kid is different, and you should never compare,
but Maddie was sleeping nine or ten hours at a stretch by this
time, nursing, and going back to sleep for another three.
She’d go through these phases when she hit developmental
growth spurts where she’d wake up a couple times a night for
a month or so, then settle back down again.


Cora, on the other hand, has yet to sleep through the night.

Maddie’s in the midst of a bad patch
discipline-wise; she seems to have a mini- (or maxi-) meltdown
several times a day. We’ve got a “routine” down
for handling the blowups, which is good, since we get plenty of
opportunities to practice it. I think the world’s a tough
place for her right now: she’s incredibly bright and is
learning at an astonishing pace, and sometimes it’s hard to
keep up with everything she’s being bombarded with. Feelings,
emotions, the appropriate way to express them, are all hard to get
under her own control and channel responsibly. I can’t
imagine what it must be like to be learning how to handle yourself
and function in society while still trying to make sense of your
own tiny day-to-day world.


But Maddie’s in luck – she’s not the only one
learning something valuable through all of this. Mommy and Daddy
are having to work something new into their emotional repertoire,
as well – instant forgiveness.

One of the benefits of blogging is that
it’s an easy way for family members to keep up with you;
rather than having to find time for a decent phone chat while kids
clamor for your attention, you can simply keep relatives updated
via the Internet on your child’s daily life. And for their
part, relatives are allowed a daily glimpse into a long-distance
life of a loved one, permitting them to feel that they’re not
totally missing out on everything.


So it’s no surprise to me that many of Maddie and
Cora’s grandparents read this daily (hi, y’all). And
last week one set of grandparents enjoyed my story of Maddie riding
her “borrowed” tricycle in Target so much that they
were moved to action.

Since the US Department of Health and
Human Services has declared October 1 to be “National Child
Health Day”, I thought I’d take the day to mention one
of my favorite websites – href="http://healthychild.org">Healthy Child Healthy
World.


Let’s face it – we’re not living in the same
world we grew up in. I’m not one of those people that long
for the good ole days when we didn’t have to use seatbelts,
much less car seats. Kids today stand a better chance of surviving
a car crash, avoiding SIDS, and skipping the lead paint snacks. At
the same time, our environment is more crowded with pollutants and
toxins than ever before; new plastics and chemicals not tested on
kids are making their way into our mainstream life in the shape of
toys, cleaners, and even furniture; and even as we come up with
anti-bacterial soap, bacteria come up with a way to be resistant to
it.

Maddie’s long had an independent
streak in her: as soon as she could walk, it was her preferred
method of transportation, and she’d eschew the stroller
whenever possible, her chubby little 14-month-old legs doing the
two-mile-roundtrip walk to the park with determination. I barely
had to show her how to hold a spoon before she was completely
feeding herself, so it’s no surprise that she hates to have
someone else brush her teeth for her, even though she still
hasn’t gotten it quite right.


I’ve long admired this independence (can’t imagine
where she gets it) and have even encouraged it, since the more she
does the less Mommy has to do. Hi, I’m Jennifer and I’m
lazy – remember me? But the more refined her motor skills
get, the more tasks she wants to take upon herself, and the longer
these tasks take.


Which makes Mommy’s life, um, less easy.

Maddie and I ran errands yesterday and
ended up at one of Maddie’s favorite places of all time
– Target.


Keep in mind that I’m not one of those moms who buys her kid
a toy every time they enter a store; Maddie has no guaranteed
“new thing” to look forward to each time she hits a
Toys R Us or anything. My kid simply likes to shop, whether
it’s perusing all the catalogs that come for her every day
(“Did I get any mail? Any catalogs? Oooh!” she squeals
at mail call each day) or running through a store. She’s got
a vivid imagination and loves playing with all the
“new” toys, and is (mostly) content to leave them on
the shelves when she heads home (a few memorable meltdowns not
withstanding).


Let me also say that I’m not one of those moms who allows her
kids to take all the toys off the shelves, create a huge mess, and
leave it for some poor teenager making five bucks an hour. But I do
let Maddie fondle the stuffed animals, poke at the displays through
a toy’s box, and in general explore in a tidy fashion.

Maddie’s in the midst of those
terrible twos, and has several meltdowns a day, almost as if
she’s got an allotment of them and feels obligated to use
them all. I’ve got the formula for dealing with them down
pat, but Maddie’s recently thrown a little wrench into my
pattern, the clever little monkey.


First, there’s me making every effort to avoid a meltdown.
I’ve learned she does really well with plenty of warning when
a transition’s coming up, so I run through a list of upcoming
events several times: “Maddie, we’re going to eat our
lunch, play for a few minutes, then read books and take a
nap.” The more foreknowledge she has the less she reacts as
if I’ve sprung something grossly unfair on her, so I’m
happy to oblige in this.

Have you seen the new TV show, “Kid
Nation”? The reality show takes forty children aged 8 to 15
and drops them in the middle of a ghost town in Nevada, with
instructions that they’re to form themselves into a working
society. They do all the cooking, cleaning, governing,
store-running, and so on. Adults are strictly taboo and the
children are left to figure things out (like how to boil water on a
wood-burning stove) by themselves.


I’ve only seen the first episode, but it’s enough for
me. I spent the whole time vacillating between trying to imagine a
set of circumstances wherein I’d allow Madeleine to go sleep
in the desert unsupervised for a month at 8 years old, and worrying
about the kids that I’m watching. They show the children
pulling wooden wagons down two miles of dirt road to their new
home, and I’m wondering if someone made them put on
sunscreen. I watch three boys blow off steam chasing a jackrabbit
through the desert brush and I worry aloud that the producers
didn’t clear the brush of rattlesnakes ahead of time. I
notice that, in a town with only ONE outhouse for forty kids, there
seems to be a conspicuous lack of places (and motivation) to brush
your teeth.

I took Cora in last week for her
four-month checkup, and I have to confess I was actually looking
forward to it. Being out and about in the city with only one child
– and the one who didn’t complain or whine or beg, at
that – felt positively vacation-like. Going through the
well-baby visits the second time around are much easier: you know
what you’re doing this time (ish) and your list of questions
is much shorter. So I cruised in, smugly anticipating smooth
sailing and a quick trip home.


The check-up went well for the most part – Cora’s in
perfect health, and is growing well, eating well, yadda yadda
yadda. But then the doctor started looking at Cora’s motor
skills, checking for the four-month milestones. She put Cora on her
tummy, helped her pull up to sitting, tried to encourage her to
standing, and so on.

If you’re a parent you’ve
probably noticed that all kids’ songs have one of two tunes
– the ABC tune (also Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Ba Ba Black
Sheep, and so on) and the Thumbkin tune (also known as Frere
Jacques). This can cause no small amount of confusion to a
2-year-old.


Maddie’s had a pretty easy time with the first tune –
she can belt her way through the ABCs ten times, then segue into
Twinkle Twinkle with no problem. But she’s having a harder
time understanding that the second tune goes with more than one
song, and it’s making for a very interesting chanson.

I’ve just realized that a few weeks
ago I promised you a third installment on what to expect when your
second child arrives, so here (belatedly) it is. This installment
is the truth behind the reality of life with two kids.


First off, your memory is gone. G-O-N-E, gone. As in, I was
supposed to write this third installment two weeks ago. Seriously,
I know mommies are supposed to be pros at the whole multitasking
thing, but it gets too much even for us. You forget which one just
got changed, you forget if your child already watched a video, you
forget all your crap all over the city. One good friend of mine
(admittedly, a dad, but still) has lost all of the following since
having a second child: a diaper bag, the family camera, and the
stroller. Yes, the stroller. As in, I pulled up to the minivan,
unloaded the kids from the stroller into the car, and drove off.
Without the stroller. Which was not, of course, still there five
minutes later when I went back to look for it.


I love that story. Makes me feel a positively mnemonic genius in
comparison.

Since Maddie turned 2 a few months ago
we’ve eased up on the sugar restriction – up to that
point, she’d never had dessert as we tried to develop in her
a love for all things growing and vitamin-laden. But not wanting to
make our child into the one who hides in her closet at midnight
eating Twinkies, we started introducing her to treats a few times a
month. Maddie definitely loves cookies and ice cream but
doesn’t yet ask for them daily, which is great.


Unfortunately, the fact that she now eats sweets has serious
ramifications for Mommy. One of our favorite things to do together
on a rainy day is bake: Maddie can spoon and level flour and sugar
like nobody’s business, and recognizes a stick of unsalted
butter from across the room. If she even hears the clink of the
measuring spoons she comes running to see what’s up, and any
sighting of ingredients will lead her to start dragging her
“helper” stool out of the corner so she can climb up
and work properly. And since ninety percent of my recipes start
with the words “Cream the butter and sugar together”,
she can pretty much tell at a glance how far into the recipe
I’ve gotten without her.


In the past I could bake to my heart’s content and simply
hide the cookies away to eat later, after she’d gone to bed.
Since she’d never tasted cookies or cupcakes, she
didn’t really care what happened to them after the fun of
baking was over.


Now, though, Maddie cares deeply.

Cora is in the midst of the most horrible
stage right now – for whatever reason, the kid can’t
sleep. Which means neither can I.


When we went for our two-month visit, I proudly told the doctor
Cora was often sleeping 10-5 uninterrupted. She was suitably
impressed, and I thought there was nowhere to go but up. As babies
get older, their sleep naturally deepens, and I foresaw a full
night’s sleep in the very near future.


Alas for me, Cora didn’t get the memo.

Continuing Maddie’s obsession with
all things Elmo, Brian and I downloaded (legally!) a CD of
Elmo’s greatest hits. Maddie and I have spent several
enjoyable (for one of us) hours dancing around to such
chart-toppers as “Elmo You Can Drive My Car” and
“Imagination”. Maddie loves to watch Sesame Street and
see the actual song performed live in front of her as she sings
along with gusto.


Not all of Elmo’s songs are on the CD (darn it), and one of
Maddie’s favorites that didn’t make the cut is
“Riding My Tricycle”. Fortunately, they seem to show
that “video” every other day on Sesame Street, so
we’ve got it Tivo’d for posterity and Maddie has tried
hard to memorize it in short spurts.

I knew going into our recent vacation that
a) it wasn’t going to be much of a vacation for Mommy; and b)
the amount of gear required would rival an Everest expedition. I
thought I was mentally prepared for that.


Alas, you can never really be prepared for that.


Here is a (partial!) list of what we brought with us for our
three-day vacation. Keep in mind that we were in a friend’s
house, so we had her toddler’s toys at our disposal but had
to fend for ourselves meal-wise:

Hi everyone – I’m back!


We went for a few days in a friend’s house on the Jersey
shore – family vacation, cheap style. I’d meant to warn
you all of this, and in fact wrote a blog right before I hopped in
the car to head out, figuring I could post once I got there. But I
arrived to find I had no way of posting, and so was out of touch
for a few days. Thanks to those who wrote making sure the girls
were ok – we were all getting some quality family time!


So coming up is what you should have read on Monday –
I’ll fill you in on how it went tomorrow.

A couple days ago I posted about how our
whole family gives Cora a bath. Since then, I’ve gotten a ton
of Google hits from new parents looking for help bathing a newborn.
So I thought I’d write a few tips here that you may not find
elsewhere.


I’m assuming you’ve got a baby book that’s told
you the basics – don’t ever leave baby alone, always
have a hand on him, don’t submerge baby until the
cord’s fallen off, that sort of stuff. If not, go out and
pick up a book like href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/redirect?link_code=ur2&tag=1mother2anoth-20&camp=1789&creative=9325&path=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fgp%2Fproduct%2F1889392200%2Fqid%3D1139195724%2Fsr%3D2-1%2Fref%3Dpd_bbs_b_2_1%3Fs%3Dbooks%26v%3Dglance%26n%3D283155">
Baby 411 or href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/redirect?link_code=ur2&tag=1mother2anoth-20&camp=1789&creative=9325&path=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fgp%2Fproduct%2F0316778001%2Fqid%3D1139195980%2Fsr%3D2-1%2Fref%3Dpd_bbs_b_2_1%3Fs%3Dbooks%26v%3Dglance%26n%3D283155">
The Baby Book; you’re going to need it for
lots of stuff.

A couple weeks ago, Maddie and I were
playing one of our usual games in the park: Bake Stuff. Maddie
fills a cup with water from the sprinkler, then heads to the grassy
area to put in “ingredients” like grass, rocks, and
bark. She’ll stir it up and declare it a cupcake or banana
bread, pour it out, and start again. This particular day, I asked
Maddie what she was making. “Lemonade,” she
replied.

As I’m sure I’ve mentioned
before, Maddie loves to help take care of Baby Sister. Feeding,
burping, dressing, rocking, all are special fun things to do in
Maddie’s mind. Nothing, however, is quite so fun as giving
Cora a bath.

I have a feeling this is one of the
entries that will get me in a lot of trouble when my
daughter’s old enough to be embarrassed –


All babies have gas; it’s a fact of life. As our pediatrician
says, “All that air babies swallow is going to come out one
end or the other!” I remember Maddie was a pretty decent
pooter, and we got so used to it that we hardly noticed when it
happened, until of course she let loose in public and all the
non-parents looked at us, startled and mortified.


But Cora is in another class altogether.

I think I’ve confessed before that I
didn’t really watch Sesame Street growing up; between
parental controls on television-watching and endless hours of
ballet class, I pretty much missed all the kids’ shows,
making me culturally illiterate around my friends. However,
I’ve been making up for lost time with my daughter.

When you’re unemployed and stuck
inside on a string of rainy summer days, desperation gives way to
inspiration –


A few weeks ago I noticed Maddie was having fun with a
“new” toy in the church nursery: a bowling set.
Consisting of several pins and a bowling ball, the toy was set up
by a fellow parent; he was gravely instructing his daughter on the
finer points of “knocking ‘em down” and
graciously expanded his tutelage to include Maddie. She was
fascinated by the concept of knocking things over with a
ball; at home we strove to avoid that. I noticed Maddie was drawn
to the toy several Sundays in a row.

Cora’s entering that entertaining
stage where she is starting to try to communicate,
“ooh”ing and “aah”ing for all she’s
worth. She’s been doing it for a couple weeks now, mostly
just to me during quiet moments together. But she’s been
gradually coming out of her shell and now speaks to a variety of
people.

Maddie’s a big swinger at the park
– some days she’ll get in the toddler swing and fall
into a near-trance, staying on it as long as I’ll let her.
For some time now, she’s been casting her eye towards the
“big-girl” swings – the regular seats as opposed
to the higher, hard-plastic toddler seats – and I see how
it’s teaching her some valuable lessons.

Last Friday we talked about target="_blank"
href="http://www.1mother2another.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=624&Itemid=46">
how to get ready for a second baby – all the
things to think about or do in advance that wouldn’t
necessarily come instinctively. Today, I’ll share tips I was
given (or learned the hard way) on how to handle it once
you’ve Brought Baby Home.


First, the hospital. A girlfriend of mine had her second child two
years after her first. When her firstborn walked into the hospital
room to meet his new sibling for the first time, he saw the new
baby in the arms of mommy – HIS mommy, HIS arms – and
promptly burst into tears. She said you could see the hurt and
betrayal on his face.


So ok, not the best way to do it. I hadn’t really thought
about it, but my girlfriend Abby suggested a carefully
choreographed first meeting, and it went like a charm.

So now that Cora’s officially 3
months old, I’m expecting her to get it together a bit in the
old sleep department. As soon as a kid turns that magic number,
everyone starts asking you – “Is she sleeping through
the night yet?” And I want to scream, “No! Leave me
alone! It’s not my fault!” You feel as if you’ve
got a defective kid, as all around you smug older parents are
telling you how their kid started sleeping through the night at 8
days old and never looked back.


They’re lying, by the way.


At any rate, Cora started sleeping for longer stretches a couple
weeks ago, going five or six hours at a time, and I thought
we’d have it easier with this one. But she’s begun
making life miserable for me and I’m about at my wit’s
end.

When I first became pregnant with Maddie,
I had women coming out of the woodwork with advice. What to eat,
what not to eat, where to shop, whether or not to breastfeed, you
name it and there was a person with an opinion. Most topics I
expected, but I was astonished at how many women felt the need to
give me “body preservation” advice.


One client immediately wrote down the address of a store that sells
circulation hose; she advised me to start wearing them “RIGHT
AWAY” so I wouldn’t get varicose veins. Another client
was kind enough to feel my boobs and tell me to “kiss their
perkiness goodbye” unless I started sleeping in a jog bra
every night. But this paled in the number and ferocity of comments
I got about stretch marks. Every single woman I met had the
“perfect” solution for avoiding stretch marks. Being
the obsessive researcher I am, I hit the internet and got the
low-down. Want to know the most sure-fire way to avoid stretch
marks when pregnant? Here it is:

Maddie’s hit this stage where she
hears pretty much everything we say. How do I know this? She
parrots phrases she’s heard three hours ago – from a
different room – said under my breath. So we have to be
careful what we talk about around her, which means we often put off
important conversations indefinitely.


Since this is not always an option, we’ve taken to trying to
slide conversations past her. We’ll either use a polysyllabic
vocabulary and hope she doesn’t know the definitions (though
this is probably giving her a polysyllabic vocabulary!) or
we’ll try to talk fast and quietly, knowing she won’t
understand everything.


She may not know exactly what’s going on, but Maddie suspects
something’s being done and so my kiddo’s taking her own
steps to correct it.

Many of you have probably seen baby
bottles and sippy cups in the news recently; several studies have
come out questioning the safety of BPA, a chemical used to make the
polycarbonate plastic that makes up several major bottles and sippy
cups. Last week a medical journal published a study done by 38
scientists who believe BPA poses a “significant” health
risk.


As well, a federal panel of the National Institute of Health
recently said there is “some concern” the chemical
could cause behavioral and neurological problems in young
children.

My girlfriend Deb is expecting her second
child soon and had confessed in a recent email that she’s
nervous about how she’s going to handle an additional child.
I’ve been composing a reply to her in my head for the past
few weeks (usually at 2 a.m. in the morning while nursing)
that’s full of suggestions and encouragement, and it occurred
to me there may be more of you interested in this topic so here it
is. This is a two-parter – this week’s entry is about
preparing for the second child, and next week’s covers some
tips to help once the new baby arrives. And as always, this is
partly what I’ve learned and mostly great tips my girlfriends
passed on to me.

I spent some of yesterday morning playing
with Cora on her playmat; she’s in such a good mood in the
mornings and is beginning to love trying to kick and bat at the
hanging toys. Maddie and I got ready to hit the park and left Cora
having a good time as Daddy finished putting the breakfast dishes
away in the next room.


A scant sixty seconds later, I get a call on my cell phone from
Brian: “Did you leave Cora on her stomach on the
playmat?” “Of course not,” I replied indignantly.
(What am I, an amateur???) Safety concerns aside, I’d never
leave Cora on her stomach: she’s not, shall we say, a fan of
tummy time and I despair of getting in enough of it.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Maddie must be buttering me up for something really big.

Madeleine’s always been keenly interested in everything I do; first it was simply to make sure that the “things I do” included enough “pay attention to Maddie” times. But the older she got the more I realized I’m her biggest textbook for life: around nine or ten months Maddie started trying to pick things up with her feet, which, indeed, I do (and you would to if you could – it totally saves your back). Add in how I eat, drink, sit, open a door – the list is endless- and it’s a pretty heavy responsibility.

Lately, though, Maddie’s taken this imitation thing to even greater heights than before. I know part of it’s simply her age, as she starts learning how to fit into society. Part of it, too, is seeing a new dimension to her life as she watches me take care of a baby. There’s even a teeny sliver in there that’s simply her being a girl, and doing girly things.

But part of it’s simply my kid. And for that uniqueness, all I can say is, Thank God for video cameras, and I hope I get her to sign a waiver before she can read.

Last fall, a girlfriend of mine gave birth
to an adorable little girl. When O was about ten weeks old, my
friend emailed me in a panic: “She doesn’t have any
routine I can figure out! Should I start trying to make her stick
to a schedule? What am I going to do about her sleep
habits???” From my non-sleep-deprived position, I could
clearly see that this was all part of new babyness and nothing to
worry about; I emailed her back with an encouraging pep talk,
reminding her that O was going to grow into a routine soon enough
and nothing she was doing now would ruin that.


Then about a week ago I started to have that same panic –
it’s been over two months! When is this screaming machine
going to settle down and be predictable! What can I do! I’m
ruining her for life by not forcing a schedule! I can’t stop
talking in exclamation points! And I swear, I almost emailed this
exact same girlfriend for advice. Because it’s all about
distance: the further back you are, the easier it is for you to see
what’s going on and stay calm.

A few things that are important to
understand about me and the world of infant clothing:


First, I loved baby clothes. Think they’re really cute. And,
compared to adult clothes, really cheap. And, since they outgrow
them so fast, I always have an excuse to go shopping.


Second, I think that clothing giving is a tricky thing. You have to
not only have good taste, but similar taste to the person to whom
you’re giving the gift. And if you’re giving someone
baby clothes, I think the clothing should be not only cute, but
well-made enough to last more than two washings.

Yes, we’re sick. And I’m tired
of it.


A few days ago Maddie and I went to a playdate with several other
kids. Apparently one mother brought her toddler along, even though
he was sick with a cold, because he didn’t want to miss it.
When did I find this out? Was it after he took a drink out of my
daughter’s water and I didn’t wipe it because I
didn’t want to seem petty? Nope.


I received this news from another friend, as I complained about
Maddie and I having a cold and not being able to figure out where
we’d picked it up.

Proving once more that she’s
definitely my daughter (as if the c-section scar isn’t proof
enough), Maddie has reached new heights with her lack of tact
concerning her opinions.


As I’ve mentioned before, Madeleine is quick to speak up if
someone’s talents are not up to standard. And by
“someone”, I usually mean me. Many times in the past
we’ve put on music for some Song and Dance time (listen, you
gotta make your own fun), and I’d start dancing around the
room. After a few moments of watching me, Maddie would speak up and
say, “Mama no dance.” It took all my control to not
point out to my then-1-year-old that lots of people used to pay 100
bucks a ticket to see mommy dance, but I tried not to take it
personally. Likewise, we’d start singing songs, and
she’d simply shake her head and say, “Mama, no.”
I’d run through my whole repertoire and nothing was good
enough for this critic.

Just in case you hadn’t heard,
Fisher-Price is recalling over a million toys for containing
lead-laced paint. The toys, all made in China, were made between
April and August of 2007, and include characters from Sesame
Street, Dora, Diego, and more. This is considered serious, and you
are urged to take any toys on the list away from your child
immediately.


The recall has been issued in conjunction with the CPSC. Click
href="http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml07/07257.html">here
to read the official CPSC recall, including a list of all recalled
toys, and get more information. You can also call
Fisher-Price’s hotline (800-916-4498) or visit their target="_blank"
href="http://service.mattel.com/us/recall/default.asp?recall_id=52430">
website. And just as a reminder, you can sign up for
automatic notification of any child-related recalls via email
– simply click href="http://www.cpsc.gov/cpsclist.asp">here to find out
more.

Yes, Brian’s home and the house is
still standing. More important, everyone’s still alive and I
haven’t run screaming. How did we fare? You be the judge:

So Brian’s heading off for a long
weekend and I’ve been freaking out for, oh, a few months now.
He’s best man for a wedding and with us moving into month 5
of unemployment, tickets for everyone just wasn’t in the
cards.


Which means Mommy’s home alone.

Ladies and Gentlemen, not all sunscreens
are created equal.


The Environmental Working Group recently release a comprehensive
study of hundreds of brands of sunscreen, testing for
effectiveness, how well they live up to claims, how safe they are
for children, and more.

File this under How Cute Is My Kid:

Dear John:


Somehow, the fact that my brother is about to take his family
vacation via MINIVAN escaped me until just yesterday. I thought
you’d be spending a couple hours in-flight, then having a
good time visiting our cheesehead family.


I now know this is not the case, and thought I might pass on some
wisdom to you about traveling with infants. Yes, I know
you’ve done a few hours already, and yes, I know I’ve
never done a cross-country trip myself. But you see, there’s
a reason for that.


IT’S INSANITY.


However, I’m guessing it’s too late to talk you out of
it, so here are some suggestions. I am, after all, your sister, and
nothing if not opinionated.

I am allergic to poison ivy. I mean,
really allergic. I mean, a shot of cortisone allergic.


Lucky me, we’ve got a thoughtful back-yard neighbor who has
trained it to grow over our back wall and it cascades luxuriantly
down, intermingling coyly with our English ivy. This year’s
crop is especially lush, spanning a good ten feet and sporting
roots as thick as Brian’s forearm.


I try to avoid the stuff, but since a few years ago when I had to
get two cortisone shots in four months and my dermatologist tersely
ordered me to not get within 20 feet of that $#@# (his word) wall,
I really try to avoid it. Mostly I just stare and seethe.


But since Maddie’s become mobile that poison bouquet just
taunts me. I’m paranoid a stray leaf will blow towards the
lawn and my baby will be miserable for weeks. And now that
we’ve got two kids and a wading pool, I decided enough was
enough. It was gonna be me, or that stupid poison ivy.


And by me, I mean my husband.

Madeleine was born with very little hair, which then took a really long time to grow in. I mean, really long time. First she had to have that dark brown newborn hair fall out, which took several months; right around three months old she was sporting a sort of Paul Giamatti bald fringe thing due to her awkward newborn hair combining with the unfortunate bald spot she was rubbing into the back of her head.

While surfing the internet a few months
ago in search of the latest and greatest products for us moms, I
came across something I’d never seen before – a product
called Momspit. Intrigued, I delved deeper and discovered
it’s brand spanking new and very unique. After a few emails
back and forth with the inventor (a mom- of course!) I decided to
give it a try and see what exactly this thing is.


Intrigued yet? Check this out –

A couple days ago we did something that
was either incredibly inspired or incredibly stupid.


We took both girls for well-baby visits at the same time.


Maddie was due for her 2-year check-up, so we scheduled it to
coincide with Cora’s 2-month visit. We had it all planned:
first Cora and I would go into the room, and I’d nurse Cora
after her shots to comfort her. Then Maddie and Daddy would come
in, and home we’d go. How did it go?


Guess.

With a slightly-less-than-two-year span between Madeleine and Cora, Brian and I felt pretty confident that we wouldn’t need to double up on a lot of gear. All the toys Cora would want, Maddie has already grown out of. Ditto for clothing and gear like bouncy seats and swings. Sure, we’d need to solve the stroller dilemma, but we’re basically covered.

Our one big problem is the crib. Madeleine wasn’t quite old enough to move out of it before Cora was born, and obviously bringing in a newborn while simultaneously kicking a kid out of her crib and giving it to the usurper wasn’t quite the most sensitive thing to do. We also knew that even if we did push Madeleine to move out of her crib right before Cora was born, chances were high that she’d regress and want to go right back to the crib after a baby showed up: all our friends warned of regression in the early days and encouraged us to not waste our time pushing anything new like sleeping arrangements or potty training.

One of Maddie’s favorite books is You Can’t Take A Balloon Into the Metropolitan Museum. It follows, among other things, a girl through her visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. We’ve been to the museum before but hadn’t gone for a while, so one day last week Maddie and I decided to make a spontaneous day of it and headed into the city, with the clear goal of following in the character’s footsteps. And in case you’re worrying about my newborn, she was safely at home with Daddy. Unemployment has its advantages.

Since Maddie’s over two and
definitely developing a will of her own, we’re working on
consistent discipline with Maddie and sometimes it seems the
“punishment” is harder on the parent than on the
kiddo.

Cora’s almost two months now, and for the first time since she was born, Madeleine’s having to compete for my attention.

Sure, I’ve been taking care of Cora and lovingly tending to her needs this whole time. But there’s been a bit of “housekeeper-ness” to the whole thing: play with Maddie while holding a sleeping baby. Feed and talk to Madeleine while keeping Cora’s pacifier in her mouth. Read Maddie a book while nursing Cora. Cora’s been in the potted plant stage thus far – carry it around and water it and it’ll live. Not a lot of interaction needed. Some of it’s been simply the way it is, and some of it’s been deliberate – trying to ease Cora into the household with the minimum of hurt feelings and abandonment issues.

Keeping breastfeeding in the national eye,
a Maine woman just received a settlement from Fossil Inc. after
they banned her from breastfeeding on their New York showroom
floor. They offered the woman $3,600 to avoid a lawsuit they would
most certainly have lost, since New York laws protect a
woman’s right to breastfeed “in any location, public or
private, where the mother is otherwise authorized to be."
Apparently they’d removed her from the showroom where she was
meeting with a salesperson when she began to nurse, refused to
allow her to return to the showroom, and cautioned her when she
scheduled a later return trip that breastfeeding was forbidden.

What’s that, you say? You mean
there’s more to simply praying to God that the screaming
beast falls asleep, or waiting her out for four hours until she
falls into an exhausted doze?


Well, yes and no.

If there’s any benefit to having a
husband who’s unemployed and a new baby at the same time,
it’s that I’ve been able to ease into the job of having
two kids instead of one. Brian’s almost always around and
it’s rare that I’ve been the sole caregiver for both
girls at once; he’s usually there to lend a hand or to play
tag team, with both of us taking one kid. Sure he’s had
interviews and meetings, but in general it’s been a
two-parent baby-raising experience.

The day started off completely ordinary,
with no hint of the extraordinary event that would indelibly mark
my child’s memories, scar her psyche, for the rest of her
life. Here on out, my daughter’s life will be split –
the Pre and Post-Apocalypse clearly delineated in her mind.

When you’re in the midst of
babyhood, you become an expert on whatever situation is most
present in your life. For example, if your child’s about to
start crawling, you’re a walking Consumer Reports issue of
all the best babyproofing gear. When you introduce solid foods, you
can reel off the list of high-allergy foods and when to introduce
them in your sleep. And during baby’s first bout with
constipation? You’re a virtual medical encyclopedia of home
remedies.

Cora is now seven weeks old, and according
to the sleep “experts”, she’s slept through the
night several times.


According to the people in the trenches (a.k.a. Mommy and Daddy),
those experts are not so well acquainted with the English language,
and what “sleeping through the night” means.

At the park recently, Maddie and I were
waiting for our turn at the water fountain – also known as
the water balloon-maker. Maddie always wants to make several water
balloons, then simply carry them around in her hands for the sheer
delight of the way they feel. On days when the water
fountain’s in high demand, I’ll make one water balloon,
then have Maddie step to the back of the line and let others have
their turn. This keeps the other kids from becoming antsy, teaches
Maddie patience and makes her be sure she really needs six
balloons.


On this particular day, we were waiting behind one little girl who
made a battalion of balloons. Maddie was patient and had just begun
to step up for her turn when a little boy ran up, cutting her off.
“Excuse me,” I said to him politely, “But
we’ve been waiting and I think we’re next.”

As Madeleine grows up she becomes more and
more adept at seeing a person’s face and figuring out what
they’re feeling. Whenever we sit down and read books we spend
almost as much time talking about the pictures as we do reading the
text. No longer content to simply have a story spun for her, she
wants to understand what she’s seeing, and asks copious
questions to that end.

With Cora safely across the six-week
threshold, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we’ve
seen the worst of the newborn behavior, though of course
she’s cried for several hours today. But setting today aside,
she’s been doing pretty well and I’ve been enjoying my
“refresher course” in Newborns 101. Here are just a few
interesting tidbits I forgot (sometimes as a survival mechanism, I
think!) about newborn babies:

So Ingrid and I were in the park last week
watching our girls play, as we do every day. We noticed a small
film crew in the corner but didn’t think much of it.
Ingrid’s daughter Naomi wandered over to the rainbow
fountain, which was turned off due to cool weather, and began
happily banging on it with her Dora doll while Maddie ran around
collecting rocks for her stroller (don’t ask).


Ingrid and I were busily gabbing –er, exchanging mothering
tips – and had half an eye on what the girls were doing. When
Naomi began banging Ingrid’s back was to her, but I saw a
production assistant from the film crew run over, grab Naomi by the
arm, and start hissing, “No no no, little girl. You
can’t do that right now.” And without thinking of the
consequences, I blurted out, “Oh, no she DIDN’T just do
that to Naomi!”

I don't usually post over the weekend,
but thought this warranted a news bulletin. Several of you have
written to me to make sure I'd seen this recent news story, which
tells me I'm not the only mommy out there who would be interested
in this.


Veggie Booty Snack Foods has issued a voluntary recall of all size
packages of Veggie Booty due to concerns of salmonella poisoning.
51 cases in 17 states have been reported so far of salmonella,
though none have been directly linked to Veggie Booty. The company
offered a voluntary recall after the CDC notified them that several
infected persons had eaten the snack food. So while it's not a
proven link, it's best to go ahead and be cautious and throw your
supplies out.


The company is offering a reimbursement for any food you have to
throw away - call 1-800-626-7557 to find out more.

Thanks to all the parents who made sure I had the scoop! Click
href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19489593/ ">here to
read the whole story -

With warmer weather here, parents are
spending more and more time outdoors. I’m always one for
traveling light, and since I live in an urban setting I walk
everywhere. That means that the stroller is our primary mode of
transport for errand-running and park-playing, and that I try
really hard not to carry a diaper bag.


Every day before we hit the park, I get the stroller out and pack
it up. As I gather snacks, etc., for the day, Maddie unpacks all my
“regular” items – a helpful little “see
what you’ve got” sort of thing, I guess – and
then repacks them for me. I’m amazed at the amount of gear
I’m able to keep as a “permanent collection” in
my stroller and wonder if I’m the only one like this. Curious
how the obsessive-compulsive mom packs heavy yet travels light?
Here’s the breakdown:

To give Gamma a big thank-you for how much
she’s been helping out recently, Maddie and I decided to
surprise her at work yesterday with a plate of cookies.


In most cities, that’d be pretty easy – hop in car,
park at work, give cookies, go home. But in New York City, such an
endeavor is either time-consuming and involving several modes of
public transportation, or costly as you pay $40 to park for an
hour. Being unemployed, we chose time-consuming.

Maddie’s been practicing her Jedi
Mind Tricks on people again – a trick she used to use before
she actually spoke English. Back in the babble days, she’d
stare intently into your eyes and wave her hands before you while
speaking hypnotically, as if willing you to understand and obey.
These days, with a common language between her and the other half
of the conversation, she’s become much more direct.

When I was pregnant with Madeleine,
everyone told us, “The first two weeks are the hardest. If
you can survive the first two weeks, you can survive
anything.”


Everyone lied.


I’m not sure where this myth got started – probably
some first-time, sleep-deprived parent who couldn’t imagine
it could get worse. But the truth is, the first two weeks are
relatively easy. Newborns are in this intense sleep/eat mode, an
almost hibernation, for the first couple of weeks, and are pretty
basic in their needs. Yes, there’s the “how do I change
a diaper” crisis, and yes, the whole
nursing-for-the-first-time thing is very traumatic and yes, as a
first-time parent, the sleep deprivation is a huge shock those
first two weeks. But you know what’s worse?


Week three. When baby becomes more alert and colic kicks in.

Madeleine takes her role as Big Sister
very seriously. I think she hovers around Cora more than I do, and
would probably inadvertently smother the poor kid if I didn’t
hold her affection back sometimes. I see Maddie mimic me whenever
Cora needs tending to: if Cora starts crying and needs to be picked
up, for example, I’ll start pacing with her and gently
bouncing her only to notice Maddie’s rushed to her doll
cradle, picked up a dolly, and placed the dolly over her own thin
shoulder, energetically patting it on the back and saying,
“It’s ok, dolly.” She’ll watch me closely
and follow me around until Cora’s once again calm, at which
point Dolly’s miraculously better and back in her own cradle.


Maddie still loves holding Cora and begs for a chance several times
a day. She also helps give Cora a bottle any time I’m out and
Daddy’s on duty, and will solemnly hold the bottle firmly in
Cora’s mouth until the bottle’s bone dry. But by far
the cutest Big Sister job Maddie’s selected for herself is
Pacifier Duty.

You know how, when you have a second child, you think about how much money you’ll save because you’ll be able to use all your old stuff again?

Ok, set that thought aside for a second and think about this: remember how, when you stopped nursing your first child, you swore you’d gleefully burn all your nursing bras, so much did you hate those stretched-out, fugly, sour milk-stained things?

See where I’m going with this?

First, a little back story:


We decided to follow the AAP’s recommendations for toddlers
and keep Madeleine from watching any television before age 2. My
husband, raised on Sesame Street, has been straining at the leash
to introduce Maddie to some of his favorite childhood memories, and
her second birthday presents included more than one DVD.


Now that she’s over the magic age, we are slowly allowing her
to watch select programs. And at this point, I have to confess that
I didn’t watch much Sesame Street growing up: I was in ballet
class after school from a pretty early age and missed the whole
“kid t.v.” thing. And since one of our television rules
is that a parent has to sit and watch with Maddie rather than using
the t.v. as a babysitter, I’m getting exposed to Sesame
Street for the first time as well.

When planning Maddie’s recent
birthday party at the zoo, I had one big worry: what to do with
baby Cora. She’s still in the “potted palm”
stage, meaning that all you have to do is carry her around and
water her periodically – she’s not a huge attention
drain. But my concern was being outdoors for such a long period of
time, and how I’d deal with her sun exposure. I did a recent
href="http://www.1mother2another.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=564&Itemid=46">
blog on sunscreen and bug repellent for toddlers, but as
many of us know, sunscreen is not recommended for babies under six
months due to the fragility of their newborn skin. I guess too many
chemicals seep directly into the bloodstream, or something. So I
was left worrying about how I’d keep her from burning for
several hours.

Let me start with the one thing I DIDN’T forget about nursing: at first, it hurts. And all those books that talk about the joy and peace and easiness of nursing forget to mention that fact. I’d even go so far as to say that most of those books actually make it sound like you’re doing something wrong if it hurts. And sure, there’s lots that can go wrong that causes nursing to be painful. But I have yet to meet a woman who didn’t go through a week of sore, cracked nipples with a newborn, proper latch or not.

So believe me, I was prepared for the pain, since I’d vowed the first time around to never forget that tidbit. But there was plenty about nursing I didn’t remember, including:

For everyone who’s been reading my blogs which rhapsodize endlessly on Maddie’s love affair with her sister and who have been wondering when the other shoe would drop, I think I see it falling from the sky.

Madeleine’s starting to realize that, while Baby Sister is a fun toy and good for a snuggle, she’s also a potential rival for Parent Time or, even worse, a Lap Usurper. Madeleine’s beginning to see the downside to having a sister, and wondering if she’s going to regret this life change.

When Maddie was born, the hospital sent us home with a new-parent packet that included a handy little sheet for recording feedings and diaper changes for the first week. We were instructed to fill it out in detail and bring it to our one-week check-up. In addition to space for noting feedings and changings, it helpfully described what the poop should look like each day (black tarry, brown tarry, yellow seedy, etc.) and how many wet and poopys we should have that first week.

When those seven days were up, I continued using the sheet of paper, making notes in the margins for feedings and changes. I found the written log to be not only comforting (look! I am keeping her alive!) but helpful in my sleep-deprivation; I couldn’t remember from one feeding to the next what time I’d started or which breast was used first. I also found solace in seeing my life laid out on that timetable: there was actual proof as to why I was so exhausted all the time, and even a rough pattern emerging.

Since Madeleine was a c-section, the whole vaginal-birth-and-recovery thing was totally new to me. And just as I mentioned in a recent labor blog, I definitely learned a few new things:

Maddie’s second birthday is over and
done, and has left a field of wrapping paper and AA battery-laden
debris in its wake.

I have to tell you, I really enjoyed
Madeleine’s first birthday, but it didn’t even compare
to her Birthday Weekend Extravaganza that we just witnessed.

Madeleine’s second birthday is
coming up and we’re celebrating this weekend with a few
friends at – where else – the zoo. Nana and Papa are
flying into town and it’s going to be a big shindig, I
guarantee it.


I remember how I felt last year at this time: weepy, nostalgic, not
wanting to see my baby grow into a toddler. I was digging in my
heels and being dragged kicking and screaming into Maddie’s
toddlerhood. This time around I stand in disbelief: where has this
year gone?

Since Madeleine was a c-section, I went into Cora’s birth as a first time laborer. I took a Lamaze class with Maddie, a refresher class geared specifically towards VBACs with Cora, and read all my books. I’d coached my girlfriend Abby through both of her births, and felt confident I knew what was in store though I’d never experienced it.

What can I say? I learned a few things. As much as you know that there’s a difference between reading about something and experiencing it first-hand, you don’t really get it until you go through it. Here are some of the fun facts I discovered I’d missed in all my research:

As I mentioned in an earlier blog,
Maddie’s first meeting with Cora was an unqualified success.
This didn’t happen by accident, though: we spent a lot of
time talking to friends about what worked with new siblings, and
getting advice on how to help Maddie transition during the
pregnancy. I now pass this advice along to you!


First, a recap of the pregnancy –

A heads-up for everyone out there who has
nothing better to do on Sunday evening – I’m going to
be on the radio again!


This time I’ll be the guest speaker for the online radio show
for href="http://www.preschoolrockmoms.com">Preschool Rock
Moms. Their discussion this week is on playground
etiquette, and they came across the article series I did on it last
fall and contacted me to give my two cents worth. Here’s the
scoop:


This Sunday, June 3, at 7 p.m. Eastern Standard Time

If you want to listen live, just go to href="http://www.preschoolrockmoms.com">Preschool Rock
Moms and click on the “listen” button.
They’ll redirect you straight to the show, and give
instructions on how you can call in to participate if you should
choose. If you’re not able to listen live, you can go to
their “archives” section and hear the program back at
your leisure.


So tune in and cheer me on! And of course, cheer on Brian,
who’s watching both kids by himself while I do this unless we
can rope Gamma into hanging out then.