Vote for my mom!

As a writer, one thing I really love is readers. Woah Baby began as a private blog, then it was for friends and family, and now I’ve got many readers from all over the place. I’d love more – and one place readers find me is at Top Baby Blogs. TBB ranks great mom and baby blogs by a simple voting system – there’s a badge on the right side of my page you can click that will let you say “I like this blog, and I think others would too!” A few times a year, they ‘reset’ to keep their rankings fresh. If my usual readers would throw a vote my way by clicking the badge, it will help other moms find Woah Baby!

We had no problems at all flying with Del. I admit, my kid is the Best Baby In The World, so possibly I have it easy.  A few tips gleaned after  our experience:

The most interesting baby in the world: “I don’t always fly, but when I do, I fly with Dis Mommie.”

1) Take direct flights if at all possible. Ours required flying out of an airport a bit farther than usual, but it was worth it to avoid the whole connection bruhaha.

2) TSA allowed me to leave Del in the Moby wrap both times through security. Possibly because it was a soft/fabric wrap vs a structured carrier? Some things I read said they would make me take him out but that was not the case, and it was VERY helpful to be able to leave him slung on. Zach managed all the rest of the security nonsense, right down to putting my shoes on the floor for me to slip them back on.

3) Using the Moby on the plane was really helpful too. Del was snugly in my lap. I had my hands more or less free. It was not hard to go from wrapped to unwrapped for nursing, and back to wrapped.

4) We gave ourselves oodles of extra time getting to the airport so that when we got to the gate, we had time to sit down, let Del play on a blanket on the floor, and change diaper for boarding. Having that time also helped me feel relaxed and in control. Just leave too early – it’s worth it.

5) Rental car infant seats are terrible. We had decided to leave the car seat/stroller behind to avoid the charges (turns out, a lot of airlines don’t charge to check your stroller plane-side). And we added an infant seat to our car rental. First off the seat was really too big for an infant. Secondly, it took us almost 40 minutes to figure out how to install it (even with the help of the rental agent) which was NOT fun at 1 am with a baby who, after sleeping like a, well, baby, during the flight, was now WIDE awake, in need of a diaper change, and had two very cranky parents. Once the horrific thing was installed, I had to put my child in it. It sat up too far so his head fell forward if he fell asleep, it had no head protection on the sides, no padding on the straps so they left red marks on his neck. Every time I put him in it, I apologized that he had to ride in this seat. Next time we’ll definitely take our own car seat.

Overall, things went smoothly. And to the woman in front of me on our departing flight, who said loudly into her cell phone as the plane was boarding, “Oh my god, I’m surrounded by screaming children.” (Yes, four babies on a prop jet. And not one was or ever did scream, cry or even talk too loudly…), you are old, and not that far away from incontinence, soft foods and a caretaker. I suggest you rethink your outlook on babies. And lower your voice.

from Hallmark with love

“Happy Mother’s Day,” a friend greeted me with at church on the 13^th.  “Oh, right. Yeah. Thanks,” I replied. Then I added, “I almost forgot. … I have mixed feelings about Mother’s Day.” (Full disclosure:  I have mixed feelings about many holidays.) The day to honor mom this year has already passed, but it’s still May and as this is a mother-oriented blog, I assume it might still be on some readers’ minds.

Why the mixed feelings? Or, more aptly, wariness? I can’t help but view Mother’s Day through the lenses of personal experience: life as a child of a mother, my time trying to become a biological motherhood, and life as a mother.

As a little girl, Mother’s Day was pretty easy. I didn’t have to remember the date. Inevitably, in school we’d make some sort of craft involving flowers to take home to Mom. Dad would take us shopping for cards and on Sunday, Mom would get a corsage to wear. As I got older and the burden of Mother’s Day fell on my shoulders, it began to feel a little bit like Mommy-Valentine’s day. Recognition not requested by own mother, but an obligation required by card-makers, florists and jewelers. I deeply resent being guilted by society in purchasing anything and I detest being told by vendors that the best way to express my love and appreciation for someone is to buy their product. Who is Madison Avenue to tell me I’m a good or bad daughter? Still, I always get my mother a card, usually late, though not this year. Thankfully, Mom loves me and kindly overlooks my tardiness.

Without going into personal details, I’ll just say that it took several years for us to achieve parenthood. Because Mother’s Day had never really been on my aspirational emotional radar (see above), during those trying years, the second Sunday in May would come and go with little notice from me. I really didn’t care. However, surfing the Internet during those days, it was apparent that Mother’s Day weekend was a rough one for many, many women who were trying so hard to make babies. Forums would light up with sad comments and comforting well-wishes that next year the poster would be spending Mother’s Day with her very own child. And those are just the women who feel freer talking about their feelings. There are no doubt women of child-rearing age who are not yet mothers, but want to be, but whose life situations – reproduction hurdles aside – haven’t yet allowed for parenthood. Now, each year as Mother’s Day nears, I can’t help but think of the women who aren’t mothers, but want to be and wonder what this day means to them. I want to hug the women who feel like they’re outside in the cold, looking in at a banquet. A banquet that looks like a mocking bauble “brought to you by Hallmark.”

Finally, my ambivalence towards Mother’s Day is colored by my experience as a mother. It’s kind of insulting that we set aside one day a year to honor mothers and their gifts to their families and communities. For 364 days a year, mothers of all stripes struggle to keep their children – and often the children of others’ – fed, clothed, clean, educated, entertained and functioning politely. In return, America offers them brunch, a bouquet, a card, and possibly a tennis bracelet. The next day, mom slips back into being another common tool in the drawer that we use without notice that gets us through our lives. Kind of like how no one takes notice of our military veterans until November 11 and then we go back to ignoring them on November 12. And, much like Mother’s Day, any thanks they get on that day seems to be driven more by a sense of obligation than heartfelt gratitude. (However, arguably mothers get the better end of the “acknowledgement” stick since their holiday is powered by consumer culture and Veterans’ Day is powered by sheer social duty.)

Here is where I, admittedly, take a turn for the hypocritical. I will take the one single day, if it is offered. It is better than zero days of social recognition. I’m not much one for gifts, so all I asked for was a nap. Our Mother’s Day itself was hectic and filled with visiting family, so I didn’t get it then, but I did get two hours of a silent house the day before, when my husband took the girls with him to run errands. It was just me and the dog. I was so giddy for the silence, it took me a long time to fall asleep. It was the best gift. And best of all, it’s one that I know won’t be relegated to one day a year as a paltry, guilt-prodded thanks. It’s one that will be given again and again (particularly as the baby becomes more independent) and I will be always grateful.

Like many new parents, we are teaching our child to use sign language to communicate with us.  And, like many new babies, our daughter is teaching us her own version of that sign language so that we can better understand her needs and desires (which, by the way, are one and the same to her).

The best example of this is her sign for pancakes.  Actually, it’s not a sign so much as it is an interpretive dance.

It seems when I first gave her a pancake, I acted out this elaborate pantomime that included shaking my head from side to side while blowing on the pancake and saying the word “hot” over and over.

Can you now guess what my child does EVERY time she wants a pancake?

And this kid wants pancakes all the time.  My husband makes large batches of toddler-sized oval pancakes a few times a month and freezes them in zip lock bags.  He makes blueberry and oatmeal ones for her breakfast and sweet potato ones for dinner.   I’ve included the recipe for the sweet potato pancake below.  The blueberry oatmeal is something that he throws together with Bisquick, blueberries and rolled oats.

But, before you worry that my child’s diet is as limited as her vocabulary (she says both hi and hot).  Let me assure you she eats many things, but none so enthusiastically as her pancakes.  And, if her violent head-shaking, near hyper-ventilating blowing and repetition of “HOT” over and over don’t get her that much-needed pancake fast enough – well, our little Einstein will go through the litany of signs (More? Eat? Bird? Hat?) until a pancake is placed in her out reached hand and she begins cramming it into her mouth.

Maybe we should learn the sign for pancake?

Sweet Potato Pancake Recipe

1 T butter (melted)

½ C Cooked Sweet Potatoes (mashed)

1 egg

1/3 C Flour

½ t baking powder

¼ C milk

Mix sweet potatoes with egg.  Stir in flour and baking powder.  Add the milk and the butter.  Cook on a buttered skillet over medium heat.

Please share or tweet this link so United knows parents are not happy about this: http://wp.me/p19Kv8-lt

image from www.sheknows.com, selected for the hand-knit outfit this adorable kid is wearing.

We have made one trip since Del was born, an overnight stay in New York City (that included a visit with our friends Amanda and Jordan, who were expecting then, and now are at home with their beautiful daughter Alison!) We took the train, which was heavenly. Del was about three months old then, and we took turns holding him in our laps or in the sling. He slept most of the way. We used our fantastic hybrid diapers with the disposable inserts. Del slept with us in the bed at the hotel. I carried him in the sling everywhere we went because NYC’s subways have no elevators. I don’t know how mamas there do it. Three cheers for DC’s metro.

Today though, I’m preparing for a four-hour flight and four days away, in a hotel. I think we’ve got the main things covered: hybrid diapers ready to go with a new bag of disposable inserts that arrived this week from Green Baby Elephant. (I don’t mind saying I feel icky about having to use them, along with throw-away wipes… I pretty much love our cloths.) I’m also taking cloth doublers for the nights. We’re using slings again this time since checking the carseat/stroller base is so pricey. We will have a car seat in the rental car, and we’ll do without the stroller.  I’ve got a couple of baby blankets, mostly for playing on the floor, and a few toys.

In the diaper bag/carry on: hybrid diapers and wipes, extra onesie, pacifier (I am terrified of losing this), second sling, a couple of board  books and the goofy silicone tea ball he’s been loving to chew on lately.

No bottles! no formula! Breastfeeding for the win!

The two best tips I’ve found on Babble so far are to breastfeed during take off and landing – helps babies deal with the pressure changes in their ears – and bring along the Sleep Sheep in case of hotel noise. Good tips. I found some other helpful tips here.

We’ve got a late flight, so I am hoping Del will be drowsy, cuddly, nurs-y and will settle down in the sling for the most part. He is used to being in it, and usually falls asleep easily. Here’s hoping.

Finally, a word of advice if storing your baby in the overhead bin during travel: Be careful opening the overhead bins as items may shit in transit.

I should probably be writing about something of great importance like children’s nutrition, or searching for a preschool for my two-year-old or finding the right questions to ask my pediatrician at regular check-ups. But no. Today, I just want to gush about our latest gear purchase:  a DadGear backpack diaper bag.

DadGear backpack diaper bag

Swoon!

Once I was well into my second trimester, it occurred to me that I would probably need to upgrade from our diaper bag. It was a neoprene diaper bag from BuiltNY, and I don’t think they make it any more. It was excellent for us with just one kid, but I suspected two children’s items would crowd the bag relatively quickly. It fought valiantly to accommodate the needs of a toddler and a quickly-growing infant, but alas, my suspicion was correct and by March we were on the hunt for a diaper bag to satisfy two kids.

I decided pretty quickly that I wanted a backpack. Shoulder bags are fine with one kid, but it’s hard to carry a baby on a hip, a bag over a shoulder and manage a free hand to offer a two-year-old to grasp. Plus, with chronic lower back pain and low-grade scoliosis, evenly distributed weight appealed to me. I also wanted a backpack that had a sufficient number of compartments and preferably didn’t look like a diaper bag, but also didn’t look like a hardcore accessory off the racks of REI.

I seriously considered the JuJuBe Packabe. I’d read glowing mom reviews of it. A woman I’d bought a cloth diaper from was selling hers and after I got to take a good first-hand look at it and liked what I saw. However, they retail new for around $140 and that was about $50 – $90 more than I was hoping to pay. I watched several on eBay, but ultimately decided to let them go based on two things:  1) the designs are a little too girly for me (and certainly for my husband); even the solid color ones just seemed overtly feminine and 2) the backpack straps looked too thin due to the fact that they convert to a single hanging strap.

My gaze then fell to the DadGear Backpack. DadGear is a diaper bag company aimed at a male audience (who knew?!) whose popularity, I assume is eclipsed by Diaper Dude, as many dads I know have a Diaper Dude bag. I mulled the purchase over for a few weeks. Did I really need a backpack that was built with parenting in mind or could I just go buy a cheapie backpack at Target and fill it with kid detritus? I went for it, and boy am I glad I did!

I’ll begin with aesthetics:  DadGear offers a wide variety of colors and designs for their bags, even pink. Most, if not all, of these lack any feminine or infant appeal to them. With the exception of pink, most of the standard colors and designs look like they came straight from the Coleman camping company. Their graphic designs appear created with the intent of luring every dad who prefers to tap his toe from Nine Inch Nails to Neko Case to Nickelback. (Yeah, Nickelback.) Next, their compartments: There are nine – count them, 9 – separate compartments in this puppy. Including a “wet wipe window” and a separate “diaper hammock.” I’ll let you sit with that for a while. … Feels good, doesn’t it? Two of these compartments are bottle compartments zippered on the sides of the bag, positioned nicely behind mesh bottle holders, themselves. Not only is this a backpack, it knows you might need a break from it for a while, so it includes stroller straps that stow away very easily in one of the 9 compartments. And it comes equipped with a diaper-changing pad. It’s not fancy, but it keeps your kid’s tuchus from having to touch those icky public restroom changing tables.

I’m pretty pleased with all that I can fit in mine. In the diaper hammock, I fit 2 – 3 disposable diapers and pull-ups per child, plus one all-in-one cloth diaper. In one bottle compartment/sleeve, I can fit an 8-ounce baby bottle and a toddler cup in the other. There is almost no protrusion from those sleeves, so in front of them, I can fit my own water bottles. In the main compartment, I can fit a large Ziploc bag with two full changes of clothes for the kids, plus an extra onesie for Luna and a t-shirt for Cliodne. I also fit my nursing cover, my Baby K’tan wrap, a small receiving blanket, a light sweater for Clio, a couple of tubes of sunscreen, two small toys for Luna, a small pad of construction paper and washable crayons for Clio, and a snack-pack. I could still fit more, but I don’t want to go crazy. It’s really roomy! Moving toward the front, the next compartment holds the changing pad that came with bag (though sometimes I include the BuiltNY one we have), a pair of gallon-sized Ziploc bags I use as wetbags, a collapsible potty seat folded up and stored in its plastic zip bag, and a single bib that could be used for either girl. In the next compartment, we keep a Little Golden Book, hand sanitizer, hand lotion, a pair of toddler flatware, a bib for each girl and my wallet and cell phone. The last compartment is the wipes window, and that’s all you’ll get out of it, but that’s all you need. With all that I’ve been able to fit in, I still feel like I could probably fit more, if needed. It doesn’t feel over-loaded, or even to capacity.

My only complaint thus far with this bag is that it has a tendency to be front-heavy; when set on the ground, it sometimes topples forward instead of sitting erect. However, I’ve found that filling the main compartment to 2/3 capacity or more seems to alleviate that. My favorite aspect of this bag is that even when fully loaded, it doesn’t feel weighted down. In fact, it feels surprisingly light. As one who loves to carry backpacks, I’ve become accustomed to a loaded backpack pulling my shoulders down and adding strain to my hips. Not so with this one. At least not so far. I had a strong positive hunch about this bag, and I’m happy to discover that I was right to follow it!

Click to view slideshow.

because otherwise i would

have no excuses.

Willie the Wiggleworm

Willie was instantly loved, for his squishy softness, for the chewability of his lopsided antennae, and for his floppy arms. He was a tasty friend.

Del and Willie: love at first sight.

Last Friday, Willie joined Del and I for a trip into the city. It was a snuggly metro ride for the two friends… little did we know that this was Willie’s way of saying…

goodbye.

Somewhere between 17th and 22st Streets, on L or maybe K, Willie slipped free from the stroller and made a break for it. As soon as I noticed Willie was gone, I retraced our steps. For naught. Willie had broken out of the proverbial cocoon and flown free. I guess he didn’t like the suburbs either.

Farewell, Willie. We hope you’re being a good worm, keeping some homeless person or Occupier company. May your lopsided antennae guide you and your stuffing never go flat.

Love, Del and Mama