1m2aSandbox

As Madeleine grows more and more independent (against my wishes, I need not add) we’ve been venturing further and further afar from home base for gradually longer periods of time.  I mean, we’ve flown with her several times and such, but for the most part we’ve kept to our routine whenever possible and tried to fit our life and the attendant errands around her naps and feedings.  It seemed simpler that way, and her daily happiness level has a direct relation to how predictable and “normal” her day is.  And of course, once you throw in the whole solid food thing, the effort feels almost Sisyphean; between nursing time, solids time, and nap time (including the cranky-but-not-ready-to-go-down pre-nap time), you have these little windows of about seven minutes where she’s in a good mood and ready for the unexpected.  It almost doesn’t seem worth it.
 
Sometimes, though, you’ve got no choice, so you just pack well, fasten your seatbelt, and hope for the best.

You know you’re a parent when you hear “Beluga” and don’t automatically think “caviar.”  My girlfriend Abby has a few thoughts on the subject of that baby-culture phenomenon/parental lifesaver known as Raffi – click to read more and enjoy!

Jennifer

When I was a child, I knew for a fact my parents were imbued with magical powers.  I recall one day when I was about 3 or 4 and my mother asked me to clean up my room; I did a swift pick-up, leaving dirty laundry lying on the floor, figuring what Mom didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.  I strolled into the kitchen confidently.  “Did you clean your room?”  My mother asked.  “Yep!”  I replied confidently.  “Did you pick up your underwear?”  She continued.  “No!  I didn’t!”  I replied, astonished that she knew.  (It did not occur to me at this age to bluff.)  I began badgering her; how did she know?  Was there a secret camera?  She just smiled mysteriously and sent me back to finish the job.  For me, that clinched it:  my parents were superheroes.

Christmas gifts have been put through the ringer, and there are some definite favorites shaping up.  Almost anything by Lamaze or Tiny Love is a sure-fire hit; her playmat by Tiny Love is still going strong, embellished by a couple add-on toys she got from Santa.  And Lamaze – what can I say?  They make excellent products.  Anything else in our house probably comes from One Step Ahead. 
 
And by the way, I know you’re probably not in any mood to shop for new gear, but you can tuck this info away for the next birthday or friend’s shower.  At any rate, here’s what’s taking the lead so far:

What’s black and white and fluffy all over?

If you guessed my cat, you’d be wrong.

Now, if the riddle had been, “What’s black and white and condescendingly envious of the baby and fluffy all over except for a few snatched-bald spots and some patches of caked-on sweet potato?” - then the answer would be my cat.

Yes, as Madeleine’s horizon’s have broadened, her eyes have lit upon Kitty.  And it’s love at first site.  On Maddie’s part, that is.  Kitty, the jury’s still out.

When Baby Girl was about 8 weeks old, I began reading ahead on the whole “helping your baby sleep” thing.  Being a chronic over-achiever, I’m much happier when I’ve got a firm plan of attack for anything I do, even if it’s just jotting down how an evening’s going to go (1.  Watch movie; 2.  Go to bed.) on a paper napkin.  So I wanted to have some sort of an idea about what our long-term goal – say, six months old - was for helping Maddie sleep at night.

When Baby Girl was about 8 weeks old, I began reading ahead on the whole “helping your baby sleep” thing.  Being a chronic over-achiever, I’m much happier when I’ve got a firm plan of attack for anything I do, even if it’s just jotting down how an evening’s going to go (1.  Watch movie; 2.  Go to bed.) on a paper napkin.  So I wanted to have some sort of an idea about what our long-term goal – say, six months old - was for helping Maddie sleep at night.