hey nineteen or, the quickening

Bwbelly

Couldn't resist another Steely Dan reference on this blog. Sorry. Suddenly I'm 19 weeks along in my gestation. And Wednesday afternoon, after coming home an hour early from work because I felt poorly all day long, as I lay resting on our bed, I'm 90% sure I felt the baby move. Sort of felt like gas, but there was no expulsion. It felt sort of schroomy or flutey or some such. Whooshy, maybe.  Sweet Chaletgirl told me to be patient, that she didn't feel anything until week 20.

Came at a good time, actually, because between feeling poorly, wanting to sideswipe the asshole in the mustang who didn't understand the concept or practical aspects of the Yield sign directed at him, and experiencing chronic frustration with rescheduling my level 2 ultrasound, I needed comforting on some level. And just the day prior I confided to Ian that I thought something was wrong because I had not felt the baby move.  Who said that pregnancy was fun? I'm not having a fabulous time. But it's not the worst thing in the world, either. I'm just pregnant. That's all. Taking it one new symptom at a time.

Was reading an article about labor induction at mothering.com mostly because I fear it and want to take the necessary steps to avoid it at all costs, when I came across the word quickening. Seems I'd known it at one point, but had forgotten it's real meaning, and that it could some day apply to me.

I haven't read any of the pregnancy, labor & delivery books that I bought. I mostly use them as reference guides for when/if I have a question about something specific. Frankly, I feel like I've absorbed a lot of information about the process  over the years and don't need to steep myself in it. Plus, Ian finds it healthier for my mental state if I avoid most writings about my condition because then I grow obsessed and frantic, and that's not healthy for any of us. Otherwise, I probably would have been all up on quickening and encouraging myself with "Quick, quick, quick" every other step.

Complained to LLA yesterday about how my bump doesn't look like a Hollywood bump. I STILL have a waistline. Eventually things should come together in the middle. But I'm still not wearing any tight shirts that showcase what I'm carrying. Still just appear frumpy and lumpy, not cute and obviously pregnant. I took the photo above last week thinking that I'd submit something for Self Portrait Challenge, it being nude/naked month. But then that urge passed. JC told me there were two other preggy pictures, so at least there was someone there to represent, if it wasn't me. About the photo: I had to puff out my tummy to make it look like that. Seems like I could do that naturally in a non-pregnant state anyway; I'm just that talented. But holding it to take a photo was something else. Whew. Anyway, there are tons more interesting nude pregnancy photos online than mine.

When folks ask me how I feel, I usually tell them: Tired, suffering from heartburn, backache, a little sciatic pain down my left leg. I've always been pretty literal when answering those kinds of questions.

Sort of depressing last night to go through my clothing. Stupidly imagined I'd be able to squeeze into most of my normally generously-cut dresses and tops. But no. Am winnowing them out. Would love to completely empty my closet and drawers of all things that won't fit, but that seem like a large chore that I'm not up to. And the thought of buying more maternity clothing just bothers me. It's too expensive, and mostly ugly, or geared toward pregnant teenagers whose personal style flirts too much with hoochieness. Most of my thoughts turn to sewing a few dresses, skirts, and tops that might see me through the next four months.

Luckily found enough things that will fit to take to Florida in Two days, possibly One. Ian should get home from work this evening, but I have to work at least half a day tomorrow, and then we can leave, drive halfway, and then arrive at Daytona on Saturday afternoon rather than late that evening.

June18 011

Already thinking how much I'll miss my dogs. Feel out of sorts without them. But honestly, I'm looking forward to having a break.  Roxy is still such a mess. She's so wild and energetic and gets cranked up at the oddest times. I've called her down repeatedly the past few days to no avail. She's the strangest dog I've ever known. Half the time she'll stay close to me, but then she takes spells where she retreats to the den to snuggle on the couch alone while the other two are very near my side.

Ironically, she's so possessive, especially when she and I are on the den couch, or when I'm eating. I wonder whether I'll ever understand her. She's not cuddly like either of my spaniels. But when she wants attention or needs fresh water or to go outside, you can't push her away. She climbs up my chest, sticks her nose in my face, and commences to licking and being all sorts of annoying.

those people

You know those people you unintentionally get behind in line and they end up tying up the register for hours? That was us Sunday. I hate being those people. It really wasn't our fault. We ordered baby furniture at BRU. Some sheet containing SKN #s was missing. The fellow helping us couldn't find it. He called the Knoxville store. They would call him back. This is after we waited about 50 minutes. And we were at the furniture desk in the back of the store, so no problem as far as making other people wait with that.

We went home to collect our hard cash. BRU gives a 10% discount--which essentially covers the cost of taxes in the state of Tennessee--if you open a charge account with them. That 10% applies to everything you buy that day. Only, the amount of quick credit they extended to me was a pittance. It might have covered a third of our costs, and the sheet is clear about the 10% only being applicable to credit card purchases. I called Chase on our drive back to the store to see if they would up the credit limit, but basically it would take several working days to hear their decision, at which time, I could no longer get the 10% discount. I know, 10% isn't much. And most times I feel that discounts aren't worth the trouble you have to go through to get them. But we were invested. We were bound and determined to get what we could from BRU.

Ian asked if I preferred to wait in the car. I said no. He could tell that I was growing ticked off and could possibly snap at any moment and morph into the Incredible Sulk. Our order was ready to go when we reached the desk. They printed off our receipt and said we could pay up front. Ian sought out the manager while to talk to him about the store honoring the 10% off everything we bought that day, and manager okayed it, so hurray for him, and us.

Then Ian and I debated over which mattress to buy. I wanted the $114 one, one of the cheapest in the store, mostly because it was cheap and I think that spending ridiculous amounts on baby mattresses is foolish. Regardless that I read a few weeks ago about how harmful most baby mattresses were to babies because of the off-gassing of PCV and other noxious fumes from the inner foam and outer covering and flame retardants it is treated with. That article compared "green" baby mattresses ranging in price from $400-$1200; totally not within our range. Article also said that you could buy the harmful baby mattress and cover it with a wool mattress pad which would prevent the harmful fumes from bothering baby. Ian's concern also was about getting something hypo-allergenic since I have such problems with allergies and asthma. He thinks our kid is doomed from the get go with my genes. But, I'm betting that this baby will have great early immunity that I never did because it will be breastfed and I was not.

I was fine with buying the harmful mattress and ready to whip up my own wool mattress pad if I couldn't find one for purchase. But Ian convinced me to get the $179.99 Serta Perfect Balance Organic Crib and Toddler mattress:

provides anti-bacterial and anti-microbial protection and is made with organic cotton layers. Vinyl cover is made without Phthalates. Continuous Innerspring coil provides maximum strength and flex-edge clips for the ultimate in mattress side edge support. Top inside layer is Serta Fireblocker, providing gentle sleeping and safety using exclusive material.

I was adamant about saving that $60. But in the end, what is $60? Ian suggested it was 3 meals, and with that in perspective, we bough the most expense mattress they had, though not the vibrating one, which rather freaked me out a bit; made me think of seedy motels with their coin-operated vibrating beds. And why'd I want to start baby out on something like a vibrating bed when the possibilities of continuing that practice as baby transitions to full sized bed is nil. After all, are vibrating beds available to civilians?

Finally we arrived at the register. And since we had a special order, the clerk had some problems keying in our bill. She locked up the first computer/register at customer service. Then the manager came by and had her go through the same process again, whereby she locked up the second register. In the end, we were at the store a full 2 hours, not counting the 20-30 minute break we had driving back home and back to store.

I had to sit because I grew dizzy. The manager called numerous people i hopes of troubleshooting the computer/register problem and apologized for the inconvenience. The clerk found a coupon for 15% that she gave Ian. And the manager gave us another $40 off the mattress, so in the end, it ended up being about as expensive as the $114 one I originally wanted.

The upshot is that everything is ordered. The problem now is that we still owe some $300 and weren't given our %10 discount. I'm supposed to follow up with some other manager who can make everything right. While we had a wretched experience, at least I can say that the people who work at BRU were kind and professional and very apologetic to us. So it wasn't as nasty an experience as I could have been.

Still, we became those people, who tied up the register. Those people that everyone regrets having picked to stand behind. Hope not to be those people again too soon.

plackety-plack

June23 001

In thrilling knitting news, I'm zipping along on Mick's Placket Neck Sweater that I began in January and decided to finish up/off before heading on vacation Saturday (counting down the days, now!). Intended to work on it while vacationing, but I've touched it too many times and knitted randomly on it enough that hey, it's 60-80% done. Plus, working on this pattern is such a no-brainer, I couldn't resist. With the EZ February cardi, I have to pay too close attention to my yos and ktogs and ssks. Perhaps that would be more suitable for poolside knitting.

Finished up the first sleeve last night and have a bit more to go on the second. But I can see having this one done by the end of this week, possibly, if I feel too puny to do any actual work around the house each evening.  Simple pattern, love the moss, or is it seed--I can never tell the difference--stitch, and can totally see me making one or two more of these, at least.

Am having a difficult time deciding what to knit for our baby. Haven't started the first thing, though there are at least 6 or 8 baby patterns in my Ravelry queue. Dare I knit up 4 or 5 things while baby is in the N-5 months stage/size? Or should I work on 10-12 months patterns now for baby next fall/winter? Decisions, decisions! I understand that they grow quickly and I don't want to waste time/energy/yarn on thing that baby will wear briefly.

thankful blessing benefit

June18 008

Those are all words used in defining boon. And how quickly my boon came? Wow, within a week. A few posts ago I mentioned winning the Apartment Therapy/Ohdeedoh contest that day which was a set of utensils for feeding baby. Box awaited me on the front porch and when I didn't recognize the return address I wondered what it could be. Twas a boon of utenstils, it twas. The note said they were out of Catch Bowls currently, but would ship one to me separately once they're available again.

sweetie pie dad

Yesterday it tickled me to learn that my dad carries the ultrasound photo of his grandchild around in his wallet. And then, while welcoming everyone to church (he's a preacher) he mentioned how nice having his daughters and grandchild there was. He's a sweetie. Made me blush, kinda.

Ian got the same father-to-be card from his parents and my dad and step-mom. When I got to work this morning I looked at the father's day cards I bought for him and saw that I'd gotten that same one for him as well. But luckily on Saturday I found an even better card for him and he opened it this morning when he arrived home from Ky.

Sunday at lunch I learned that had my sister been a boy, he would be called Eric Martin. But my step-mom let me make the final decision to call her Jessica rather than Rachel. Jessica filled me in on her friend Amanda, who is seven months pregnant. She's terribly swollen and has gained 50 pounds so far. But she only weighed 100 to start. And she knows she's having a boy. That generation! Got to have instant gratification. And Jessica even admonished me about not learning the sex. Said it would make her shopping easier if she knew what I was having. But then I reminded her that green is both our favorite colors, and she settled down a bit.

She and I dug through two plastic grocery sacks filled with onesies and other baby/toddler clothes that my step-mom passed on to me from one of her friends whose grandchild had outgrown the clothes. I so hope that I'll be able to resist spending obscene amounts of money on clothing for my child. Surely it will be easier if it is a boy. Just not enough cute baby boy clothes out there.

And step-mom gave me a classical music CD for baby to listen to: Classic Baby. It's supposed to "help foster the brain patterns essential for language and music development." But hey, I'm thinking that listening to America's Greatest Hits will put baby way ahead of the others, too.

I especially like going to my dad's church on Mother's (very rare) and Father's Day because he intersperses scripture with anecdotes about my grandparents. Like Sunday, I learned about my grandfather's integrity. How when selling potatoes, he learned the price that other farmers sold theirs at, then lowered his a bit. And he piled his bushels high when his competition kept their potatoes level with the basket's rim. He said if they paid for a bushel, they would get a full bushel from him. Never knew that my grandfather sold produce. Always knew that he was a pool shark, then later worked for Southern Potteries, and then in his retirement worked as a church custodian.

pulling together nursery

Manhattan

Last week I shared our dismay at learning that the crib we selected, but had not ordered, was recalled. We found a substitute. Only, we couldn't order it, or decided not to order it now, because one of the pieces isn't available to order until 22 June. Also chose one of those gliding rockers with custom fabric and finish. It takes 10-12 weeks to deliver, but we'll wait and order all our nursery furnishings at the same time.

Safari

We preferred a black or white furniture finish, but ended up going with a mahogany. Of the sets on the floor at BRU, this was our favorite. Ian even liked the Wendy Bellisimo Safari bed set theme they had it tricked out in. I promise I'm not going all theme-roomy, but I can see having a few items from this collection, like the sheet, the night light, and the changing pad cover.

The crib/bed is a 4 in 1 that transitions with the child as she/he grows. It makes sense for us. Vicki Iovine in her Girlfriend's Guide to Baby Gear: What to Buy, What to Borrow, and What to Blow Off! poo-poos the transitional crib for two reasons. First thing is due to uncertainty: Where will you be living in 2 or 3 years and will you have the space to enlarge the bed to its full size whilst living in your NYC loft? And second thing is due to the inevitability of baby number two. Her reasoning is that Girlfriend, you'll need that crib for baby number two. And forget about just letting it sleep in a pack 'n' play. Some of the book I've found helpful, and other parts just don't apply to me. It's been a month or so since I read it, so I can't say exactly what was good and bad about the book, although she gives an abbreviated and helpful list of things to take along for baby when you check into the hospital for L&D.

I think I'll make one of those hanging diaper bags. It wouldn't be difficult at all. So may feature flouncy ruffles that I simply could not abide, though the one in the Safari collection has simple lines and construction.

preggy karma

Beginning my 17th week as a human incubator comes with some problems. You see, I'd read and heard, but can't recall ever seeing, swollen, puffy, water-retaining pregnant women. Naively I imagined that wouldn't be me, that I'd be able to wear my wedding and engagement rings up through my ninth month.

Wrong.

June12 006

The other morning I noted how swollen my left ring finger was after turning on the shower. I gasped while trying to remove my rings. Finger was seriously puffed up like some kind of water-logged rice treat. Not until I had the help of soap and water did I manage to slip those rings from my fingers. I'm pretty sad about that. But, I'm wearing a substitute wedding ring now. One that I used to wear on my right middle finger regularly. And while it's fairly loose on my left ring finger, I think it may work there a few more months.

Sure, there is some sentimentality attached to my rings. I've worn one or both of them for ten plus years at this point, so I surely miss them. I'm not worried that folks may think that I'm an unwed mother if I go about bare-fingered. It's mostly a tactile thing. My body, my brain, is used to feeling them on that finger. If it's bare, I'll see that something is missing. If I'm not looking, I'll feel that something is missing, something is wrong. It's along the same lines as how naked I feel on days I forget to put in earrings. Or if I leave the house without brushing my teeth in the morning just because I've spaced out. Before you worry about me going through the say with fiber-feeling teeth, I have a toothbrush and paste in my desk drawer at work, deodorant, too, for those uberpsacey mornings.

And Tuesday we stopped by Target to get shaving cream for Ian; he won't use my womanly shaving cream, must have his own. Entering the store ahead of us was a very pregnant woman sporting bleached blonde dreadlocks. She walked peculiarly. I commented to Ian, "Look at how she's walking. It's like there's a broomstick shoved up her butt." His reply? "Sometimes you walk like that even when you're not pregnant."

"Oh, I do not," I said. And his was essentially repeating that I did. "I. Do. Not," I said. And quickly followed that up with the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" bit. Then reminded him that he, and everyone else, really ought to watch what they say to a pregnant woman. Because these hormone fluctuations? Well, they're turning me into a person who is easily upset, cries, and rages at things that normally would roll off her back.

Then the preggy goddesses got me back. In my back. Yesterday my back hurt a bit. Then it ached a lot. It ached tremendously so. So much that I getting in and out of the car was slow and careful. And walking? Oh, imagine exactly who I looked like? Right, so I learned my lesson about making fun, or rather, noticing things aloud, about pregnant women. I won't likely do it again. And my back still aches today, but not so much.

Also last night, after removing my standard summer shoes, a pair of Dansko sandals (mine are green & i got them for $30 at a seconds shoe store), I noticed how swollen my ankles were. Almost looked like somehow, while I wasn't paying attention, someone slipped billiard balls underneath my skin where my ankle bones should be. Also noticed marks around my ankles from the strap on my sandals. They're not tight. At least, they weren't. I slip them over my feet without unbuckling the straps. So today instead of straps around my ankles, I'm sporting my standard before-there-were-Dankso-sandals summer footwear, the Arizona. My Zurichs and Bostons will likely see a lot of play this summer and fall, since it's likely my feet will never be the same.

Suddenly, while bemoaning my swollen feet to Ian last night I remembered that in lots of cases, pregnant women's feet never return to their original size. How will I cope if this tragedy befalls me? I'll be like Cinderella's greedy step-sisters, trying to force my feet into all my pairs of shoes that no longer work for me.

I suppose that's not too much to complain about. I only have one more thing, other than heartburn and constipation. Several women with whom I work remark about how I'm aglow. Seriously, I want to have them check their eyes. I'm not glowing. My complexion, which was above average pre-pregnancy, sucks. I'm wan and spotty. My acne is worse than it's ever been. It's not fair. My hair isn't thick and lustrous, either, any more than usual.

Keep waiting and waiting for all these good times, positive aspects to being pregnant, and so far, the only plus that I can think of, and pardon me if you think this is simply TMI, is that I'm blessedly without menstrual cycle.

hoot and boon

Hooray, I'm a winner. I look at Apartment Therapy's Ohdeedoh blog regularly. They showcase all the latest baby/child paraphernalia, and I usually enter their contests. I won Thursday's giveaway which consists of a set of Boon's new feeding line. I'm already feeling the name because Daniel Boone is/was my 7th great-granduncle and before the last name had an e on the end, it was the same as this company's name. Silly, I know. Oh well. Any connection at all is a good connection, right?

Squirt_main

Love its colors, orange and light blue. Wonder what we'll get?

rubber baby buggy bumpers

Pamela Paul calls it the anxiety of underspending. She's referring to the cold sweats that parents experience when they don't spend enough on their children. Like, maybe, as parents, we aren't providing our children enough opportunities to develop into the potential uberchild and eventual super-achieving teen/adult that they can and should be. Paul's book Parenting, Inc: How We Rare Sold on $800 Strollers, Fetal Education, Baby Sign Language, Sleeping Coaches, Toddler Couture, and Diaper Wipe Warmers--and What It Means for Our Children was quite interesting and addressed the reason for the anxiety I experience each time I enter a baby superstore.

65c881b0c8a02ef5e9169110.L

Basically her book critiques the manufacturers of baby products and the marketing of their products to new parents. Marketing efforts prey upon our insecurities, as well as our need to give our children all the advantages that we can purchase. Then too, there's the keeping up with the Jones's aspect of buying bigger and better baby buggies, $35 onesies, and exclusive membership to baby country clubs.

Paul describes this new type of parenthood where "what we choose to register for comes to symbolize the type of parent we want to be and the way in which we want to raise our children." Of course, this ultimately backfires because children learn from parental observance that their identity is tied up in what they own, or what they buy, or what kind of style/taste they display from their consumer purchases, and that's ultimately rather sad and false. Somehow parents "throw out their healthy skepticism when it comes to shopping for their children because such decisions are deeply emotional," and Paul goes on to write that when we're wrapped up in nurturing our children, often logical thinking flies straight out the window. That's how come we end up with far too much stuff.

Why are parents so anxious? Paul writes that many new parents live far away from their families and thus have no regular and ready support system to turn to when baby won't latch on or sleep through the night. And most children of my generation (X, that is) were not breastfed because formula was pushed so heavily in the 1960s and 1970s. Not until 1982 did breastfeeding make a comeback. My mom won't be a resource for any breastfeeding issues I may have because she bottle-fed me formula. Should I experience problems, I'll need to hire a lactation consultant, which probably isn't a big deal and won't be a great expense, but still, I wish I could solely rely upon my mother's wisdom. And yet, I have several friends, as well as my SIL, who can advise me about dicey breastfeeding problems as they occur.

Apparently the pressure to have an early-achieving child is immense. From what I read of Paul's book though, it seems more geared toward urban parents. Getting their child into the "right" pre-school is key to baby getting into the "right" private school, ad infinitum. Since I live somewhere that there are few options, I'm not worried about whether my child will be accepted at a pretentious preschool, though I've long bemoaned the absence of a Montessori school (and possibly Waldorf, though it is not something that I have any familiarity with). And while I'm terribly skeptical of the current effectiveness of public schools, given the No Child Left Behind debacle, as a product of public schools, I have to say that I did okay, that Ian did okay, that we are both college graduates who can support ourselves, and thus public schools are where my child will grow and flourish. Ideally, I always hoped to homeschool. But the financial realities don't allow for that.

So there's a push for pre-natal education from the manufacturer's of baby products. Crazy, I know. And there's no research to support any claims that pre-natal education really works miracles. And there's a push for all children's play and activities to be educational, to be serving an objective. Parents push their children to read before they are ready, and learn their numbers and colors, too, all by age one, believe it or not. Because, apparently, it's a status thing to boast to the other mommies and daddies that your baby einstein is so far ahead of the others. All of this over-education robs children of their childhood and their time at play. Toys and play are supposed to be for fun, not to reach certain objectives by a certain month.

Much of of the under two or three years old's education, or edutainment, as Paul refers to it, comes via TV, or educational DVDs. Somehow popping a child in front of an "educational" DVD is preferable to popping baby in a playpen while parent showers or tends to dinner. The playpen option is what I was raised on. That's how my mom made time to do all that she needed, unhindered by me. But somehow playpens don't appeal to today's parents. They liken them to jail and cannot imagine any useful purpose to playpens. And so that explains the popularity of baby in front of educational DVD. I'll take the playpen, thanks. Our household currently doesn't revolve around the TV, and I may be exceptionally naive, but I don't expect for it ever to. Edutainment DVDs were originally marketed toward parents as a way for them to have a short break from baby. But now, they're marketed differently. Baby and parent are supposed to watch together, learn together, interact together. And most early childhood development experts say that it's ridiculous to learn about a flower from a TV set. That the logical thing to do is for baby and parent to explore those things together in real life.

Paul also suggests that new parents' anxiety stems from their lack of experience around babies and children. While that is not the case for me, a whole generation of women, and men, didn't babysit, or didn't spend time taking care of younger siblings. And so the inexperienced impulse is to over-comfort baby, to want to be our child's friend, which then leads to real issues with boundaries and authority. The over-comforting of baby goes hand in hand with wanting to create a perfect environment for our child, one in which she/he knows no pain, no germs, no failure.

And quite without having read Paul's book, I felt that wasn't the right path to take. Sure, parents wish to protect their children, but Ian and are are firm believers in the School of Hard Knocks. It worked for us. We both had working mothers who didn't coddle us. Neither of us were happy all the time, for various and different reasons. Paul writes that trying to shield children from discomfort shouldn't be a goal because it's as if we've forgotten the essence of human experience. If we solve all our children's problems for them, how will they learn to self-soothe? How will they learn to solve problems for themselves? It seems that the new parenting is actually creating a generation of completely lost children. And that's scary. Paul mentions "problem-solving deficit disorder" which describes this generation of children who enter school without critical thinking skills or even the desire to problem solve. Children are easily frustrated when asked to work on projects alone because they are so used to having their parent do it for them. We actually see a lot of this at my university with Millennials who want we librarians to essentially complete their assignments for them. Coincidentally, Paul quotes from another source that Millennials have near zero-resistence to consumerism.

Expectant mothers are targeted for a glut of marketing materials from the start. Last week I bought a maternity top and two of those belly bands at a maternity shop. I received a starter pack from the cashier which contained samples of lotions, etc., as well as a Playtex bottle; our first. When she ran my credit card through her register/computer, she asked for confirmation of my mailing address. Creepy that it was already in the system. Now I expect to receive tons of crap in the mail targeting me and my baby as future consumers of unnecessary products. Basically, it seems, that companies use a hard sell and try to frighten parents into buying their products, otherwise they are not being the best parents or giving their children the best foot forward. Companies also rely on brand loyalty and are expanding their products to grow alongside baby.

One of the positive aspects of this boon of baby products is that mompreneurs are starting businesses that fill a need. And I'm all for mom's going into business for themselves to make things easier for subsequent generations of parents. Often, they fill a need, a niche, that the mega-companies overlook. That's how Baby Einstein (sold to Disney for $25 million) and Giggle developed.

Surely, the thing I liked best about the book is that Paul affirmed my thoughts about the necessity of toys, DVD, animatronic devices, etc. for the development of baby's skills. There is no research proving that any of these thing help babies grow into smart beans. In fact, most media are detrimental to baby's development. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommended that children under two not be exposed to TV, computers, or video games.

Here are two reasons why TV and babies don't mix: "Studies show that high levels of television viewing before age three are associated with subsequent bullying, impaired reading and mathematical proficiency. A 2006 study in Pediatrics found that the more television children under five watch, the less likely they are to engage in curative play."

And then this: "Early exposure to TV and video games conditions the developing brain to expect very high, unnatural level of input. Real life by comparison becomes boring."

Perhaps its my Gen X skepticism at work, or something else, but honestly, what was good enough for me, is good enough for my children. In fact, Paul says that children get more out of playing with ordinary household (but safe!) objects than with all those expensive, expendable plastic gadgets with all their bells and whistles. So many parents are guilty about working too much or not spending enough time with their children that they buy buy buy. The average American child receives seventy new toys each year. How excessive is that? Companies rely upon parental feelings of guilt and manipulate parents into spending outrageous amounts on their children.

Yeah, I feel like I'll be one of those nazi parents. Don't let my child watch tv. Don't buy my child plastic toys. Don't over-protect my child from germs and falls and spills and such. And none of those cheesey singing animatronic holiday toys, either. I hope I won't be too unbearable. No sugar, either! Haven't even explored the issues around feeding baby.

In closing, I highly recommend this book. While Paul doesn't necessarily offer solutions to warding off the problems she describes, awareness of them is the first step. Librarian that I am, I found the lack of bibliography disappointing. But she mentions books throughout its pages, and if you note them as you read, you're all set. Paul does include several pages of notes documenting her sources, and that was reassuring. And by the way, the book was so well-written as well. Very easy to read.

Naturally I fed off the author's vibe because I agreed with her assessments of the burgeoning baby market. Every other paragraph I was "Right on!" after reading "Parents who discuss the content of traditional books while reading to their children promoted early literacy, while electronic books encourages a slightly coercive parent-child interaction and were not as effective. The researchers described parents and children reading electronic books together as a severely truncated experience.

Two of the areas Paul wrote about that I didn't address in this very lengthy post are the outsourcing of parenting and celebrity baby culture. Paul describes the plethora of services that baby and mom can take at upscale centers that include spa and cafe for parents and courses in which to enroll baby. Such centers seems as much an avenue for ending the isolation of new mothers as true educational opportunities for babies. Since the media focuses such extreme attention on celebrity babies, an entire luxury market opened up to serve them, thus $800 imported baby buggies and designer baby duds by Escada and Marc Jacobs.

Here's a list of books from which Paul drew many of her statements:

Anxious Parents: A History of Modern Childrearing in America

The Hurried Child: : Growing Up Too Fast, Too Soon

Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety

Born to Buy: The Commercialized Child and the New Consumer Culture

The Scientist in the Crib: What Early Learning Tells Us About the Mind

The Better Brain Book

What Kids Really Want Money Can't Buy: Tips For Parenting in a Commercial World

The Price of Privilege: How Parental Pressure and material Advantage Are Creating a Generation of Disconnected and Unhappy Kids

blue is the color of my true love's lair

Paintchips
aqua rapids, Niagara mist, java sea, Amsterdam

Trying to decide between four shades of blue for baby's room. It's currently purple. When I selected the color and painted the room, I really liked it. I still do, actually. Sometimes when I consider the color choices I've made for my home I end up feeling like I'm living in the Rainbow Connection. Each room is a different color, though two are very different shades of green.

Surely it's jarring, the lack of connectedness between rooms, to some visitors. I just love color. I like a rich hue, none of those wimpy neutrals; khaki or ecru walls for me, though I often really appreciate how you can use brilliant fabrics within the confines of neutrally-painted rooms, like the rooms I see in House & Garden or Domino and the like.

Blue seems somehow more gender neutral than purple. Why is that? Girls can get away with wearing boys clothing to a greater extent than boys get away with wearing clothes meant for girls?

The fact is, all these shades of blue are quite similar. I may be best off simply closing my eyes, shuffling them around, and picking one at random. Will likely ask Ian's input to see if he has a preference or a good reason to lobby for one at the expense of the others.

Yeah, so he expressed no preference. He said no the the most green of the four, Niagara mist, then changed his mind and said it didn't matter to him. My mom offered to paint, or help at least, when I asked her for her painter's name. I'd rather pay someone to do it. And I'll have to steer clear of the house all day and possibly re-open the windows to let the fresh air circulate that paint odor on outside. Yeah, a day or two ago we closed up our house to outdoor air. So long fresh air and sounds of birdsong awaking me prior to 6 a.m. But the highs, record high temperatures are in the low 90s these past two days and it was time.

Oh, and when it comes to furnishing our nursery, guess what? The crib we picked out was recalled. We were so bummed. Stopped by Babies R Us the other day to inquire about how long it takes between ordering and receiving the set we wanted and the woman working the furniture section informed us that it was recalled. Naturally, we're glad we didn't buy it yet, but still so disappointed. We selected it without help from anyone in the store and found out after talking to the lady that it is made in Vietnam and has very little solid wood, which was strange to us since it seemed perfectly sturdy. The recall has to do with broken slats.

Told Mom about that and she shared that her co-worker C was ordering her set from Pottery Barn. Had not even considered that since shipping is so much and there's no store nearby. But now, I'll at least go and check out their website, see if I can find anything similar to what we liked. JCPenney's appears to have a wide selection, too. That's probably more in our price range. The set we chose had a black finish. We'll likely go with black or white. Wish somebody sold red cribs, I'd be all for that! But most wood finishes don't appeal to us because then we have to worry about matching the parquet flooring and the moldings and window frames. Yuck.

Also am not planning to go with any of those elaborate bedding sets with comforter, sheets, dust ruffle, matching diaper bag and the like, and am especially leery of bumpers. Even the most neural sets seem more boyish than girlish to me. I like simple, classic, plain, almost. And most nursery bedding I've seen in stores is so over the top. Though, I do go all weak in the knees around Classic Pooh stuff. No doubt this babe will inherit my Eeyore collection, though there are one or two I may be unable to part with, likewise with the classic Piglets I have.

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