A/V Club

Scholarship #5: finding stuff (future detective/investigator/snoopy neighbor)

A friend of ours (and mother of two) took a preview of our gift registry back in February and changed the audio baby monitor to a video one. Always a fan of austerity and frugality, I protested, but she stopped me mid-sentence and said: “Trust me.”

Lo and behold, she was right. Not only does the video monitor let me know that Little Bug is awake, even if she is not making any noise, but it also provides minutes (oh, okay, hours) of entertainment. Wait, did I clarify that I am not the only one who is entertained? Observe:

Advertisements

Bib, schmib.

Well, well, well. Lookie who’s on solids now. I know where you can pick up a tarp and rubber gloves, but where does one obtain a full-body hazmat suit? Or clear (non)colored baby food? Or an instant sucker-upper like the one at the dentist’s office? So glad we just bought new furniture. So glad.

The Problem with Hand-me-downs

As your baby gets older, her clothes will become more sophisticated. She will wear more than just a diaper and a tube with arms (aka nightgown). Her wardrobe will slowly resemble that of a full-grown human’s. If you are fortunate enough to have friends whose kids are just a few months older than yours, you will have a bountiful supply of second-hand clothes. Though very economical, it does create a certain unfamiliarity that wouldn’t be the case if you were to pick out your own kid’s clothing. All will seem to go well until one day you pull out what you think is a fuzzy pair of pajamas… and it turns out to be a winter snowsuit. Ah, but you’ve already put it on, so one night won’t hurt anything, right?

Night night.
Night night.

Oh, Muffy. You can’t be serious.

At a recent trip to Brooks Brothers, I found a little gem called True Prep by Lisa Birnbach.  This book is a tounge-in-cheek guide to all things Old School: sailing, philanthropic causes, penny loafers, and the like.

Excerpt from the book

As a homage to Mama K’s very classy upbringing, we tried our darnedest to adhere to the Preppy Handbook these past few days. Without further ado, here is an account of what we learned about prep decorum.

The difference 35 years makes

Hi Mom.
Hi.

What was the first thing you thought when we told you we were trying to get pregnant?
Well… it was kind of like: “they just told me they didn’t want a baby; they wanted a toddler. I hope they’re sure this time.”

We changed our minds. What were you doing when we first told you?
Talking to you on the phone. Looking at your dad going [does best Home Alone impression].

Is that when you found out that we were pregnant or just trying?
Trying.

And when we told you we were pregnant?
Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!

So, we told you before we were supposed to (as Mama K reminds me). Did you tell anyone else?
No, just your father.

That’s not true.
…and the waitress at the Mexican restaurant.

Okay, what is the biggest difference between raising a baby in the 1980’s and now?
*sighs* Cool stuff. We never had Nosefreida. And our bouncy seats were foot operated. We sure didn’t have nanny cams. But babies are still the same.

You know that’s a baby monitor, right?
Yes, I do. Put that down– that I knew that.

What do you think has changed about the environment?
The environment, environment?

No.
In the home, dads are more involved with the younger ones nowadays.

I’ll let Lucie know about that one.
[attempting to change the subject] There’s a store at the mall called Lucy, but they spelled it wrong.

Um, okay. What are your three favorite things about Lucie?
Her face and her expressions.

Is that number one and two or…
It’s together. And her smile.

Wait. Is her smile number two?
I guess.

Focus, please. Can you think of a third thing?
I love her little neck.

That’s a little creepy.
I know, I can’t help it.

Do you have any words of wisdom for Lucie?
What you think is more important than what others think.

Except for her mamas.
Sometimes even your mamas.

What about Grandma?
Grandma loves you.

If you could kidnap Lucie for a week, what would you do?
Take her to Michigan to see her great grandparents and a couple of other people.

Is that because you think she would benefit from meeting them, or because you like showing her off?
I think they would love to see her.

Is that the real answer?
Yes, yes, yes. If I wanted to show her off, I wouldn’t stop there.

What do you think is going to be our biggest challenge of raising a kid in this day and age?
Probably pretty much everyone’s biggest challenge: patience. Think before you speak and think before you act.

Was that your biggest hurdle?
Oh yeah, big time. If I knew then what I knew now…

What was your source of information for raising me?
Family, friends and books. I read Doctor Dobson’s The Strong Willed Child.

I see. Did that help?
To the extent that I knew that other parents had the same problem.

Oh, boy. Did you ever have access to parenting classes or parenting groups?
We had an informal group where we traded babysitting and talked once a month. You and I together did a child development program that was a pre-school for you and a study/observation for me.

Okay… Anything else?
You better put in that I would take Lucie to see her Great Aunt Sheila, too, or I will get into trouble.

Life as Lucie (guest blog featuring LRR)

Hello again. It’s been five months or so since I’ve written and man has it been a whirlwind. Let’s see, I grew 3 inches longer and gained a few pounds, but I don’t really like to talk about that. Tom, the corky (corpi? corgi?) likes to watch where I am at all times. Sometimes he pretends like he’s not looking but I know he’s keeping tabs. I can now roll both ways, so I wish the mamas would take down that embarrassing video of me getting stuck on my belly. If this is how it is going to be, I can tell we’ve got a long road ahead of us.

Anyway, I’m learning some Spanish, hand/eye coordination and basic stock market indicators. At least it’s not the 1980’s when Mama C yells into a large, radioactive “mobile” phone to “Buy! Buy! Sell! Sell!”

Well, this is not a typical day, but here is what happened this Saturday:

Mama C picked me up and changed me, and then she put me down with Mama K (complete with a wall of pillows in case I tried to turn over) while she walked the dogs.

Parking Space
Parking Space

We dropped Mama C off so that she could volunteer for a few hours. Mama K and I then went for a run at the Nike World Headquarters in Beaverton. Suffice it to say they have a great running track. Mama K stole Mama C’s running shirt and shorts, despite having a whole stack of clothes of her own. (Mama C made me write that.)

After the run, during which I admittedly fell asleep, we came back so I could eat. Mama K watches some strange videos on YouTube, like music videos and clips of Jimmy Fallon. I would be okay with just a circle that changed color once in a while, but I guess the current selection is alright.

Back in my car seat! It’s time to meet Mama C and some friends for lunch. Tie food. I’m okay with just zippers and snaps for now. The strangers take turns holding me and I get to yank on some new heads of hair. How fun.

Monkeying about. No, that doesn't sound right. Who cares, we're having a lot of fun.
Monkeying about. No, that doesn’t sound right. Who cares, we’re having a lot of fun.

Oh, this heat! I napped for a solid three hours after my day out and about. Then Mama C fed me and I was cool until a coughing spell… that turned into projectile spit up all over Mama C. Who is Linda Blair? Mama C keeps calling me that.

Time for a shower! I’m kind of slippery when I’m wet, so it’s a good thing Mama C took a shower this morning. She can get clean by proxy since she has only figured out how to wash me while keeping me safe. You know something? I really don’t mind showers.

All is going well, until I spit up again. Horizontally. Six inches out. I don’t have a fever, though, and I’m still kind of smiley, so it must just be a fluke. Oh, wait. I wasn’t done. A little more now that Mama K is holding me. I can’t be showing favoritism, right?

Full circle
Full circle

Ahhhh… another day as a five-month old. Happy birthday to my Grandma Ro. I don’t think I’m allowed to say how old she is, but it’s a nice round number that rhymes with sixty. Wait, did I get the rhyme right? Well, either way, she can’t get mad at me because I’m really little and cute.