On Babysitting

I'm watching our friend's daughter three days this week because of a big, drama-riffic snafu with their usual day care person. Can I just say that while I adore my child, and their little girl is really very easy, I could never be in full time work with children. Other people's kids are....not mine. Maybe that's the best way to put it.

Still, today we walked down to the park, the weather being a little sliver of unexpected heaven in the middle of June today. And of course the little girl (she's nearly 2, so a bit younger than the doodle, but walking well enough) saw the slides, ripped her hand out of mine, took off, made it three steps, and then tripped, managing to fall exactly so she could smack her forehead on the corner of the rail road ties they use to fence in the mulched playground.

Apparently I'm that babysitter.

She only cried for a minute before she was off again. Looking at it, if she was my kid, I would just let it be. So I texted her parents to let them know and we played. She's fine, less the purple-ish goose egg. But it figures that this happens when I'm watching her. Hopefully her parents will understand (they're good friends, so I'm not expecting a problem, but honestly, I just hate that she got hurt on my watch, you know?) I still feel kind of small.

All that aside though? Two kids is SO much easier than just one. They play! They encourage each other to eat! They help each other do things!

The doodle needs a sibling. Stat.

Because Nothing Is Ever Easy

Ever have those moments (ok, let's be serious, months and months on end) where it seems that nothing is going to go your way? That would be the kind of moment in which I'm currently stuck.

First up: 2 year molars. Good. Gosh. Who decided that this was the best way to have people get teeth? Cause I'm really questioning the intelligence of the whole process...why not just have them be there like the rest of the bones at birth? (Says the woman who never nursed, I know, I know.) Still, this poor kid is suffering mightily with these teeth and that is rolling downhill to mama and daddy also suffering mightily and nothing seems to make it better for anyone. We've tried Tylenol and Motrin and Ice and Ambesol Jr. (which I know you're not actually supposed to use according to the latest childhood experts, but desperate times...) and nothing seems to soothe. I would seriously love to figure out how to just reach in and pop them up and be done. Please tell me that any future teeth (cause there is at least one more set of molars, isn't there?) are not so terrible.

Next in line: the PhD. While I'm on the subject of questioning brilliant ideas...what on earth was I thinking? (Well, I know what I was thinking, but I would like to build a time machine and go back and shake some sense into myself.) I think that I may be able to start data collection in January. I do finally at least have all the official approvals I need...but in the time it took to get that sorted, the school where I teach (where I would also like to collect data) reorganized the departments so that the department chair I had on board to work with is no longer in charge of the classes I need to use. SO....I emailed the new department chairs (yes, chairs, plural, because there are three of them now) two days ago and have yet to hear anything. I would like to be able to say that I'm hopeful that things will work out, but that would be a complete lie.

Finally we have the whole hardly-eat-anything-exercise-like-there's-no-freaking-tomorrow-and-watch-the-scale-mock-you debacle. And really, there's not a whole lot more to add to that. Tim is trying to be supportive (and honestly, doing quite well) but it hard to get even something a benign as sympathy from a man who has gained 10 whole pounds since high school. (And those 10 pounds? Desperately needed.)

Sigh.

Wedding Woes

Tim's cousin is getting married this summer. Pushing aside the fact that I feel incredibly old for him to be old enough to get married, I find that we're facing several dilemmas. First, the wedding is reasonably close (maybe an hour, hour and a half drive) so...do we get a hotel room for four days (they want everyone to come on Thursday and leave on Sunday) or just drive up and back and probably miss some of the activities? I lean a little toward maybe only staying one of the nights (the actual wedding - since the reception is at the hotel and then we would see everyone off and come home the last day) but I figure that's probably going to be considered anti-social. Still, the kiddo doesn't do particularly well in hotels (granted we've had only one experience so far and he's older now and so forth but...I'm wary) so I think he might do better at home.

Next dilemma...and this is the one I'm struggling to not be annoyed at...apparently kids are not welcome at the ceremony or reception so they've provided a list of babysitters from their church that we can pay. Honestly, I had kids at my wedding and never thought twice about it. Parents took the kids out as necessary and no one cared. I don't really get the whole trend toward kids not being welcome at stuff like this - if the parents are doing their job then it shouldn't be an issue. And yet I realize that that last bit is the problem...parents don't do their jobs. But WE do. So I'm annoyed that we're being penalized with the rest of the riff raff who don't choose to parent their children.

Add in the fact that I'm hesitant to take someone else's word for the goodness of a baby sitter and the fact that I'm not really sure the kiddo would do well with someone he's never met before and, well, where is he going to be babysat? Our hotel room? So now we have some teenager we don't know in our hotel room alone with our child? I just have issues with that. In fact, I'd be willing to skip the wedding and reception and let Tim go and just hang with the kiddo myself if that's what needs to happen because of their ridiculous policy.

Am I overreacting? (And if you think I am, could you explain why? Cause I really don't get it.) What would you do?

Here Comes Santa Claus?

Today as the kiddo and I wandered the aisles of Toys R Us looking for, among other things, a gift for a woman who I'm not sure I could pick out of a line up who is due with her first child (a girl) and happens to be in my MOPS small group and thus must be gifted I found myself humming quietly under my breath. This is not, in and of itself, unusual - having a child has been a wonderful prop to offset the talking/singing/humming/whatevering to myself that used to go on while I was out and about. (I don't know if it's just because I live in my own little world or because I'm so self-conscious that I have to distract myself - maybe a combination of the two. Regardless, I have this running commentary where ever I go. At least now I can direct it to the kiddo. He's pretty verbal for his age I'm told.) But then it hit me...I was humming Christmas music.

It seems a tad early for them to be piping the Christmas music into the store but after a careful listen, it turns out that that is exactly what was going on. And thus the gift I finally settled on is a cute little Christmas-y outfit for the baby girl. I guess maybe subliminals aren't always bad.

This has, however, prompted more thought on the whole sticky wicket of Santa Claus. We are a bit divided (Tim and I) about how to handle said entity. I'm all for the straight, honest approach. This is how I was raised and I really like my mom's rationale for why they did it this way. Essentially, we always knew that Santa was not real - even though we got gifts "from Santa" as well as from members of the family. We even left cookies and milk out for him, knowing full well that daddy would eat them. I don't feel that my childhood was ever compromised in this way and mom later explained that she could never get behind all the lies that adults have to tell to try and "keep Santa real". I'm down with not lying to my children. Tim, on the other hand, is a little more pro-Santa, seeing it as a relatively harmless fiction...and I can also get behind the idea of not being the parent of the child who ruins it for everyone else (though I'm pretty sure that my sister and I were never the ones who did so for other kids since mom and dad were pretty open about how other people pretended he was real, etc. So that's fairly avoidable.)

Of all the dilemmas parenting presents this one seems rather trivial, but it still leaves me wondering what to do, because at the end of the day, I don't want Christmas to be about Santa and I'd just as soon leave him as much out of the whole shebang as possible and focus on Christ's birth. But even with that said, it seems like we have to make some kind of "Santa decision" - and probably soon - because he's popping up everywhere and the kiddo is starting to notice.

Musings From the Land of Stomach Flu

At 3 am on Thursday I woke up with that unmistakable gnawing at the pit of my stomach and tiptoed as quickly as I could downstairs to the main floor powder room to await the inevitable. (Why not use the master bath? Because Tim is a sympathetic vomiter and there is nothing worse than feeling that sick and knowing that because of how he woke up, you're likely still going to need to change the sheets in your bed even though you made it to the bowl in time.) And thus I spent most of Thursday asleep, alternating between freezing and broiling and making quick dashes for the toilet. But by the late afternoon I was feeling better and by Friday morning, I had convinced myself that it was food poisoning, because no one else was showing any signs of illness.

Going on that theory, Friday the doodle and I ran some errands and we had friends over for pizza and conversation in the evening. And as we were sitting and chatting the living room, we heard the thump, pitter patter pitter patter of the doodle getting out of bed, then an unmistakably miserable cry and some heaving. And our friends quickly excused themselves, gathered their kiddos, and ran for the hills. They most likely went home and bathed in hand sanitizer...in their place, I might have considered drinking some just to be sure.* And thus began round two of the longest night ever - though it's considerably worse when it's your child (your already underweight child, mind you...and trust me, when they're keeping nothing down, the fact that you can see their ribs on a good day is foremost in your mind as they puke yet again and you wonder how, exactly, you're going to catch up on the weight gain issue after this little setback.)

Saturday was a long day of puke and snuggles and laundry and carpet cleaning. (He's not yet 2 - the idea of running for a toilet does not even enter his mind. If you're lucky, he just gets you. If you're not, then it's all over you AND the carpet AND the couch.) But by mid-afternoon, he seemed to be well and we were hopeful. But he woke up puky again this morning and so we're back to square one. The hardest part though is that he is begging for milk in the most pathetic whimper but we're smart enough to know that you don't put dairy on an upset stomach. He will at least drink clear Pedialyte mixed with water (I know you're not supposed to dilute it, but he won't drink it otherwise and plain water doesn't stay down so...you do what you can.) And applesauce seems to be safe so far as well. We are adhering firmly to BRAT though.

So far Tim shows no signs of falling.

Some of the snuggles have been so incredibly cute that we've taken a picture or two and I had to wonder...is it wrong to photograph your sick kiddo? He just looks so sweet snuggled up and resting - and perhaps that's simply in contrast to the "I don't feel good" look that he has going on otherwise - but it just seemed like too sweet a picture to miss. He has to hate us for something when he's older...this might as well factor in, yes?

Beyond that, as I contemplated this post, I was wondering what word to use for vomit. Because I tend toward "vomit" myself, but Tim is a "spit up" guy (and honestly, that just doesn't work for me, because spit up is what babies do as a normal course of action and is completely different from vomit. Confronted with this analysis, Tim just rolls his eyes at me and says "Fine, puke. Happy?") So I guess runner up for him is puke. Then there's "throw up" and "barf", neither of which are my personal favorites, though perhaps they're less offensive? (Throw up seems perhaps a bit more refined, barf tends toward a bit more juvenile in my mind.) Is there a preferable word to use in public writing or is it just the mental image you're striving for?

And seriously, I know nobody actually spends this much time thinking about terminology for vomit, but when you're up to your elbows in it, it seems the thing to do.

*Please note: I do not actually in any way advocate the internal consumption of hand sanitizer - I'm fairly certain that's toxic and should not be undertaken.

Trying Not to Over Analyze

Yesterday we went to a MOPS playdate. This is essentially where ladies and kids from MOPS meet at a playground for a few hours and let the kids run. With a toddler like I have, it's all about chasing the kiddo around and waving absently to other moms as you run by. Still, he seemed to have a ton of fun.

However, here is where I start to chide myself about not over analyzing and just trying to roll with things. See, the common "get to know you" questions moms ask include start with "Is he your first" and then, upon the statement of "So far" (really, what else do you say? Yes, he's our first. Yes, we'd like at least one more. So...so far.) There are curious looks or exclamations of how they love having an only or how have multiple kids is great or whatever. Then of course comes the conversation about pregnancy and delivery to which I have nothing to add, so I usually say something along the lines of, "I was really lucky on that score, he was adopted."

And then conversation inevitably pauses and questions of "Oh, where from?" and "How long did it take?" and so forth, including anecdotes of people they know who've adopted etc. And this is all fine and natural. But yesterday I got the strangest comment that was then seconded by the other mom who was there and...I just don't know what to do with it.

On hearing that the doodle was adopted she said, "I have no problem with adoption." And the second lady piped up, "Oh, me either."

Um. Ok? Good to know? It's not exactly a ringing endorsement of the miracle and blessing that adoption is - but they haven't experienced it, so sure, maybe they don't understand. But the way it was stated was as if so many people do have a problem with it (which, ok, they do - but not usually in church groups) and that we were brave to have adopted. But there was no bravery on our part - our son's birthmother? She's the bravest young woman I've ever met and there aren't words for how much I admire her willingness to make the hardest decision I can imagine because it was best for her and this marvelous little boy.

So, I'm working on taking it as a good comment but at the back of my mind, I'm just kind of shaking my head cause...yeah.

Of course, a while later, conversation turned to birth control and monthly cycles and I had to scratch my head and wonder why on earth women feel the need to talk about this stuff. Seriously. It is what it is, obviously, but when you're at a public park with kids running around and people you don't really know sitting around with you, this just seems...unnecessary.

And that is why, as a rule, I've aways preferred the company of guys.

If I Ran The World...

People who run things and have websites would be forced to also list their prices on the website.

This way moms who are looking at possibly enrolling their little toddler boys in "mom and me gymnastics" (which is basically just the same stuff he does at home but with nicer mats and a few more things to climb on/jump off of) could decide if it's actually something that isn't cost prohibitive without having to try and get someone on the phone. I can see what times the classes are offered. I can see descriptions of the classes. I can see photos of little children enjoying the classes. But I can't for the life of me see how much you want to charge me for the privilege.

And thus I figure it's probably falling into the "if you have to ask, you can't afford it" category. But we'll never know now, will we?

Where Things Are

No, no, not the wild things. Maybe Zorak things. Or maybe just things. Regardless...a bullet list for your Thursday edification:

• I have tentative approval to do my doctoral study at the school where I teach - the IRB there says they have a 3-5 day turn around. I'm hoping for 3, as that would mean I should hear today or tomorrow. If not, next week for sure. Once I have that, then I can turn around and re-re-re, well you get the idea, submit to my school's IRB and then, maybe, if the stars align and the angels sing, I can actually, you know, DO THE STUDY.
• Mom's surgery yesterday went super well. The doctor feels he got all the visible tumors and some of what he thought were baby tumors (I think the technical word for these are "nodules" but I'm not positive, so don't quote me) were actually not. He biopsied it just to be certain but he's not pessimistic. That said, she'll still need to start chemo within the next 3 weeks. That won't be fun. But on the other hand, it's better than dying. (Well, I'm not positive she'd agree, honestly, as she's been saying "Come, Lord Jesus, Come" for the past several years whenever she thinks about the handbasket the culture is currently zipping along in. On the other hand, she does enjoy being around to see her grandchild.)
• They need to standardize money orders. I got 2 from the post office and they don't have to be signed. I got two from Safeway (Western Union?) and they, apparently, do. How do I know this? They (along with our applications) got sent back to our social worker by CPS. Now honestly, it's a money order. That's even better than cash, isn't it? So why could they not just sign it themselves and move on? I have no idea. Regardless, they've now been signed and resubmitted. Because I guess nothing should be easy.
• I un-friended my uncle on Facebook the other day because he allowed one of his racist friends to take over the comments on his status message but chastised me for being offended by it. His estimation of how it went down may differ, but as far as I'm concerned, anyone who believes that a person - any person - should be treated differently (positive or negative) because of their ethnicity is a racist. I'll probably refriend him at some point, assuming he'll agree to it, and then just not pay attention to his statuses. But honestly, it still just makes me so mad I could spit.
• No movement (other than the money order/CPS check debacle) on the latest adoption attempt. But that's to be expected. Honestly, I'm not expecting anything until the April/May time frame. That would be roughly equivalent with the timeframe for kiddo #1.
• Given mom's cancer, I'm going to talk seriously with my doctor the next time I'm in about the possibility of a prophylactic hysterectomy. Cause it's not like all that junk is doing me any good (one could argue that, given how screwed up my ovaries already are from a hormonal standpoint, they actually do more harm than good at this point). We'll see. It may be a hard sell, but I'm going to do some research and determine how hard I want to push, because honestly, I don't think I care to deal with ovarian cancer in the future and mom let slip the other day that there's actually a history that goes back at least one more generation (and on into cousins as well) - so it's not like this was just a random event.
• Apologies to any male readers whose heads just exploded.
• I bought the kiddo a pop up tent with two tunnels today. You'd think I got him his own personal amusement park. Never spent a better $30. (Kinda like this, but with 2 tunnels and another little "clubhouse" thing in addition to the tent.) I crawled through the tunnel and remembered why I avoid small spaces like that. Hello, claustrophobia! The dog is not particularly amused with the whole thing.

And there you have it.

Miscellanea

I'm still completely bummed about losing my diamond. I couldn't sleep last night so I went and tore the car apart again. No luck. I really thought there was a slim chance it might miraculously be there. But no.

Once I finally got to sleep I got about two hours before the kiddo woke (at 3am) and proceeded to be inconsolable until 5. No idea what caused it. But I did manage 2 hours of sleep (from 5 - 7) at that point. Woo - 4 hours of sleep!

I'm a little punchy today.

I watched two of my friend's three kids this morning while she went to the doctor. They're reasonably good kids, but they're much more...physical with each other (and Joshua) than most kids. I feel like I spent the whole time telling one of them not to dive bomb the other or rip the toy from the hand of the other, etc. I was glad when she got back.

Wendy's chicken nuggets are, hands down, Joshua's favorite.

And, is it wrong for me to be irritated by people calling him Josh? I don't call him this. Tim doesn't call him this (maybe occasionally - but it's rare). His name is Joshua. If, when he is older, he wants to shorten it, that's fine. But seriously, it's an extra two letters folks. (Grandparents are excepted from this irritation - because they're grandparents and I won the "what do we call the grandparents" argument, so I'll give them the "what do the grandparents call the kid" decision.) More irritating are those who spend the extra syllables (and more!) that would normally be in Joshua by sing-songing "Jooossshhhh". My friend's daughter is named Elizabeth. And they call her Elizabeth and it really seems that everyone does - I just wonder how she managed to win that battle or if it's uphill all the time for her, too.

I'm currently up to my ears in the following paperwork:

• IRB stuff for school
• An HOA approval request for a shed
• Homestudy application (we decided on the cheaper route...we'll see how that goes)
• Application for the attorneys

Happily there's a lot of overlap on the last two. On the other hand...there's a lot of overlap on those last two. And I really should get back to it.

Sleep Woes

The baby is regressing again and I am not coping well. The past four nights he has been up, screaming as if being brutally murdered, from 12 - 2. There is nothing wrong with him (no fever, no obvious injury, etc.) save molars and maybe a growth spurt. Not to downplay the pain of either (or both) of those things...but Motrin is all I've got and it's not helping.

Last night we tried everything and finally he would lay still when I crawled into bed with him. (No, you don't need to laugh yourself silly picturing me in his crib, there's a double bed in his room for just these occasions.) But not the first or even second time that I tried it. It took two hours. Then he slept fitfully, as did I, and he woke at 5:30 thinking that it was time to play.

5:30 is better than 3:45, which was Tuesday's wake time, but still.

Foil is going on the windows this weekend to see if blocking out the morning sun completely (vs. the mostly that the curtains and blinds provide) will help.

Add in that he's been resisting naps as if they were of the devil and it's been a fun week so far. I still wouldn't trade it for the world...but, well, I'd happily trade this part for my happy, well rested little boy.

This too shall pass, right?

See?

Child Proof?

This will be quick, because what I was going to blog about has fled my mind as I just saw the kiddo trot past the kitchen table holding the two parts of our under-sink cabinet child lock. You know, the one that's challenging for me to open? Apparently he's figured out the trick...maybe he can teach mommy.

Happily, we have secondary locks on that cupboard too, but really, they were just there because I'm paranoid.

Let's hear it for paranoid!

So Many Options!

So today, to kill some time before the morning nap (since we were all up and ready early for the fence folks - thinking that answering the door for them in jammies might not be the best of ideas, though they didn't actually even come to the door, so really that was a waste of getting up early), the kiddo and I headed out to see if we could find a sand and water table that could actually be purchased in person, despite everything online saying that they were only available online. (It's not that I distrust store websites as a matter of course, it's just that the WalMart website, for example, always says that what I want is unavailable at any store within 100 miles, but when I actually go to WalMart, there are six billion of the item sitting happily on the shelf waiting for me. So...I figure if I have the time, it's always good to check before paying shipping.)

I thought that Costco might have such an item. But alas, they did not. I did manage to get a new mattress pad for our bed (since between being stretched more than perhaps it was designed for to fit our deep mattress and our washer's propensity to eat anything remotely mesh-like there isn't a whole lot of elastic on our current one left) a six pack of Kleenex boxes and the first in Nora Roberts' new quartet. So it wasn't a complete waste of time.

Then, since Costco is right next to Toys R Us, we toddled over there. And we found options upon options upon options. Though none were the one I had basically decided I wanted when browsing online last night. Since we were there and they are all located next to eachother, I thought we would also pick up some sort of inflatable pool for splashing around in this summer. Holy cow. I didn't realize I would need to research inflatable pools!

They have the hard plastic tubs that you and I grew up with. They have the inflatable version of those. Then they have ones with slides and sprinklers and umbrellas and "ride on inflatable dolphins" and on and on and on! And that's just the pools. They also have the "splash mat" type things - that have maybe 3 or 4 inches of water in them and are more like a water park spinkle area - and a thousand varieties of those exist as well.

I'm leaning toward the latter given that Joshua is an active little boy and even in the tub is prone to want to stand and run around (don't worry, we don't let him stand or run around in the tub...but it's an ongoing struggle to get him to sit on his bottom and splash). So I think he'd have more fun in the splash mat environment than in the pool. But which one to get? How many bells and whistles does he need? (And, not unrelated, how much do I want to spend?)

I'm seriously tempted to just get a tarp and set the sprinkler in the middle of it and be done. It really shouldn't be this hard!

A Litte Thursday Random..Since That's All I Do Anymore

And a short random, at that.

Got an email from my advisor today (well, really, I was just cc'd on it) as he passed my proposal on to my committee. So...I'm taking that as a good sign that he liked it and that it should be approved here very soonishly. Or so I am hoping with fingers and toes crossed. (I'm ok with minor changes, but presumably it made the case for my idea so I'm set on that score.)

I've decided that the kiddo needs a sand and water table. I'm not sure that I'm ready for all the cleanup such an item will require (yes, it'll go outside, but still, he's gonna get filthy) but he enjoyed playing in our friends' so much that my guess is that he needs his own.

The kiddo has started sleeping about an hour later than he used to with only a 20ish minute bedtime increase. So now I'm getting more sleep than I used to and am more tired than ever. How does that work, exactly?

Interesting blogging to resume at some point. Really. No, really. I promise.

A Little Bit of Random for a Tuesday Afternoon

This morning we headed out early (well, early for us) to get to the second of five sign and sing classes. It was lots of fun, though honestly I'm not sure the kiddo cares one way or the other. Still, we're working the sign language thing with him and it is helping to cut down on some frustrated tantrums, so that's a positive benefit. I just enjoy hanging out with my friend at the class and watching the little ones run around.

Afterward we had lunch at Chick-Fil-A (though I skipped the milkshake...didn't want to, but figured it's one of those things I should probably ration) and went to the same friend's for a bit more playing. The kiddos ran around in the back yard and swung on the swings and played on the water and sand table and generally had a jolly old time. Right until they both hit overtired within about two minutes of one another. So I scooted, popping the little one in the car with a binky for the drive home while my friend toddled hers off for his nap as well.

I got home to an email from my school letting me know that while PhD students used to have the option not to do a dissertation defense as part of the process, they're now making it mandatory for all students who havent' finished completely by 1/1/10. Since my current schedule has me finishing my study on 12/20/09 I don't see any way to get around this new requirement. I'm bummed. It's not that I was sure I was going to opt out anyway...but it's not something I'm looking forward to...and it just seems like one more way they can screw me out of another semester of tuition. (Not sure how, but I'm sure if they can think of a way, they will.)

Meanwhile, the babysitting requirements for the school where I teach have increased and are starting to border on the ridiculous. Seriously, when you were in college (if, indeed, you went to college) did you ever have a professor call to personally inquire about why an assignment hadn't been turned in and beg/cajole/plead with you to please go ahead and get it in? Yeah, neither did I. In fact, I'm not sure I ever had a teacher in high school give me a second chance to get soemthing in. Either you did the work and got it in or you didn't. Period. Of course, this is still considerably less babysitting than was mandated when I taught in person in South Carolina...so there's that, I guess. I just hate the fact that people assume that retention is the end-all, be-all for higher education. When really, in my mind, it's the education part that should be the most important piece of it.

I've got my fingers crossed that there'll be a good snooze this afternoon. We had a rough night last night, for whatever reason (I have no idea why, but the kiddo was up from 1 - 2:30 last night, unhappy unless he was being held), and we're both tired today as a result.

With that...I think I'll do some of that babysitting while I have the kid-free chance and then maybe do a little reading for fun.

An Open Letter to Toddler Clothing Manufacturers

Dear Sirs:

(I say sirs because honestly, it's clear that you are neither women nor mothers - were you either of these things, the following letter would not be necessary.)

Is it so much to ask that you hold some sort of Baby/Toddler clothing manufacturer summit and decide on a single sizing standard? It is nothing short of insanely frustrating to arrive home with six outfits that, given the casual nature of your life and the size/age of your toddler, should last him throughout the summer, only to wash them and dress him in the first to realize that not only will they not last the summer, it's unlikely they'll make it through May.

The kiddo is coming up on 16 months old. He is in the 9th percentile for both height and weight - a size our doctor kindly terms "petite" (this is opposed to the "shrimpy" that I'm sure will come at some point from his schoolmates should he not have some sort of growth spurt before school age hits.) My point is that, given these circumstances, clothing labeled "18 months" should by all accounts be large on him today and last him well through the summer. Instead, this clothing is clearly designed to fit a 12 month old since if he did not wear diapers, he would have the mother of all wedgies.

Now, I understand that children grow at different rates (a concept that clearly eludes you) and so the age-based sizing is, perhaps, not the best choice. Instead, why not simply label things according to a height and weight range that the garment is intended to fit? And, if you are a single manufacturer who labels clothes under many other names, perhaps aim for some sort of consistency in your sizing. I find it laughable that I have jumpers from Carters and also from Just One Year and Child Of Mine (both of which are made by Carters) that are all the same size when you hold the garments next to each other but that each bear a different age-based label that ranges from 9 to 18 months.

Nearly every mother (or father, should he be the one taking the child to the doctor) knows the average height and weight of their child. A label that simply used those ranges would eliminate all the confusion and make me considerably less likely to try to avoid purchasing clothes of this brand again.

Of course, you would lose some sales since people wouldn't buy a seasonal wardrobe that they expect to fit only to find that you'd snookered them and they actually bought clothes that are one size too small. But all things considered the, "Ha ha, you moron" marketing plan doesn't seem like the best way to go.

Sincerely,
A mother who just thinks it's wrong that her 16 month old little boy's 18 month shorts are Daisy Dukes.

It's Like Turning Your Back On The Ocean

I got up to get a cup of coffee from playing with the snotty-nosed one on the floor. Came back not a minute later to find this:


I think it's some sort of growth that my first response was to laugh and get the camera.

Put Me In The Zoo

Friday, the doodle and I, along with some friends, headed to the zoo downtown. I haven't been to the zoo in a long while - I think we've been since we moved here, but I can't be positive. Most of this is because, by and large, I find zoos rather...cruel. The animals never look happy - they're usually just laying around and while I realize that they no longer have the hunt and general scrabble for food that would occupy their days in the wild...I just can't reconcile myself with zoos, no matter how hard they try.

Still, it is nice for kiddos to be able to see animals that they might never otherwise be able to see, and the doodle didn't disappoint. He seemed genuinely excited to see all of them, though of course they were all named "doggie."

One nice thing the zoo here does have is a petting zoo for kids. So we got to pet a goat. All the others were standing just far enough out of range that no one could touch them. Ah well.

Overall, it was a fun day and the weather was so gorgeous it would've been a crime to not do *something*...and the zoo was a good choice. We'll go again - I can get over any reservations I have to bring the kind of smiles the kiddo had. (Though if he wants to go in the s-n-a-k-e house, we'll have to bring daddy along.)

Tuesday Random

This post brought to you by a host of things that fall into the category of "Shall Not Be Blogged." So instead...I bring you randomness.

• I am making slow progress on my dissertation proposal. If I had a nickel for every time I've written, or thought about writing, that in a post, I could pay my tuition.
• The puppy had a dental cleaning today. She's doing fine but lost two teeth (not surprising, given how bad her breath was) and will be on soft food for at least two weeks. As this is her preferred food, that's not a hardship.
• Getting up before 7 stinks...especially when you're used to not having to.
• We are getting a fence put in. I would add finally here but honestly, we haven't really needed one before. We have/had an electronic fence that the dogs, by and large, had no issue with. But we can't really put a shock collar on the kiddo.
• Why is it that baby girls have all these cute clothes but baby boys only get rompers and overalls? I went to three stores looking for something that was "dressier" for Easter for the kiddo, finally settling on khakis and a polo from The Children's Place (which is having a huge sale right now, btw, for those who might care.) I also snagged a fleece jacket in the 24 month size for next year. It was $2.99. If it doesn't fit...well, I've wasted $3 in much worse ways before.
• My sister and brother-in-law are on vacation and having the trip from heck. They have finally, after 3 days, been reunited with their luggage. And quite pleased they were about that happenstance, as you might imagine. Hopefully things are on their way up now.

With that I'll go, because it sounds as if the kiddo has decided he's had enough of this "nap" - which really wasn't a nap so much as quiet time in his crib. I'll take it. Hopefully he got a little rest. We really need to figure out his new nap plan though!

Healthy, Wealthy, & Wise

I knew the day was coming. All the signs were there and pointing, vigorously at that, in this direction. And now...the day has come. The kiddo has dropped his morning nap, moving quite solidly into a middle of the day nap that is about 2 hours long. And I find myself with a conundrum.

Previously, I would sleep until he woke up around 7:15 and then he and I would hang in our jammies until the morning nap (usually around 9 or 9:30) at which time I would head upstairs to shower etc. while he slept. That clearly won't work any longer. (I'm all for staying in my jammies until noon or beyond on a random Saturday but not as an everyday thing. Just no.)

So, what to do?

He can self entertain a little - but really not to the point that I'd trust him in his play area alone while I did all that. And not even really to the point that I'd trust him in his room running free for that long. He's much too apt to try and climb his bookshelf or play splashy-splashy in his humidifier. Or both. And we'll not even mention the distressing tendency to whack the stand lamp against the wall and break the blub or see what cool things like books and binkies he can put into the diaper champ. I know all these things will have to be fixed/removed in the coming months but for now, other than the shower issue, he's just not alone and free in his room without supervision. And I don't see changing it for the shower problem when there's a simpler solution.

I have set myself an alarm. And unfortunately, given his early rising time of 7:15...my alarm is for 6:30.

I really had hoped to not see this side of 7:00 a.m. routinely for some time to come. But alas...we're back. Now Tim will tell me to stop whining, since he's up and on his way out the door by 5:30, but I've been there, done that and the kiddo was my ticket to sleep. On the other hand, since Tim has been having trouble making himself go to bed at an hour reasonable for one who gets up at 5:15, perhaps the fact that I'm going to need that earlier bedtime myself will come in handy.