We lied. We claimed this site was solely for humor, and that you wouldn't find helpful advice anywhere on errant parent. Well, sometimes you just come across a product that takes your parenting role up a notch -- you know, from servant to gofer. Here's where we feature things that might make your life as a caregiver a little easier. Or at least funner.
12 THINGS AS THE MOTHER OF A NEWBORN I PROBABLY COULD, BUT PREFER NOT TO, LIVE WITHOUT
In a recent issue of Elle Decor, Gwyneth Paltrow (mother of one piece of fruit and one prophet) listed 12 things she decidedly could NOT live without. One of the things Gwyneth just HAD TO HAVE was hand-painted wallpaper.
I don't know about you, but as the mother of a newborn -- and after four hours of sleep over the course of four days -- licking coffee grounds out of the disposal is way more important to me than flowered PAPER.
Anyhow, it all got me thinking about my dozen must-haves. The following choices may not be particularly chic, but hopefully they're more realistic to a new parent than a collection of Clothbound Penguin Classics. Or, as Gwyneth put it: "[Books that are] the ultimate cure for sore muscles."
Oh, shove it. If you can read anything longer than the Family Circus without falling asleep, you're obviously a robot. And we all know the ultimate cure for sore muscles is a Bengay martini.
Now. Where was I?
Oh...
The 12 Things As The Mother Of A Newborn I Probably Could, But Prefer Not To, Live Without:
1. Huggies Overnites.
Small children have bladders the size of pontoon boats. These diapers hold about 12 hours of urine and keep your child surprisingly dry. Which means you may still be getting up in the night to feed your baby, or rock your baby, or eat an entire cherry pie without being interrupted, but you won't be getting up because your baby has wet through his diaper, pajamas, sleep sack, sheet, mattress pad, mattress, and your sanity. Also good for road trips and plane travel. Or days when you just feel like changing a diaper twice.
Jeez. Just Kidding!
Maybe.
2. The Nosefrida Snotsucker.
Babies have twice as many boogers as everyone else. Problem is, they can't blow their noses. What you need is to SUCK your kid's boogers out. And once you do, you'll want to do it all day long. Highly addictive. Highly recommended.
3. A Video Monitor.
It doesn't matter what kind, just trust me: it's much better to SEE your kid make a weird sound than to just HEAR him make a weird sound. A video monitor will prevent you from unnecessarily getting out of bed. He may sound like Chewbacca, but you can clearly see, from your cozy bed, that he's only yawning. Not being tied in a knot and eaten alive.
4. Zippers.
Go. Right now. Return every piece of infant clothing that has buttons or snaps. You'll add decades to your life if you just deal in zippers until your child is old enough to manage a button on his own. Carter's makes zippy PJs that your child can live in. I mean, you wear your pajamas to the grocery. Why can't he?
5. Soy Formula.
I'm not going to give a tutorial on breastfeeding. But if you're not going to exclusively nurse for 12 months, you're going to have to use formula at some point. After lots of milk- and lactose-related screaming in this household, we've figured out soy is GOLDEN. My non-doctor opinion: If you're going off of -- or never used -- the boob, stay away from cow products. Your baby may get slightly constipated (and if so, use these beauties), but he won't be screeching for 12 hours a day like he's giving birth, unmedicated, to himself. Because who would do that?
Probably only an idiot who doesn't request the epidural in time, that's who.
6. A Keurig.
You will need, want, demand, and live for coffee. This puppy is somewhat expensive, but there is probably someone out there who will want to buy you a nice baby present. This is it. It's not for the baby, but who cares? The baby only wants someone who's AWAKE enough to care for it. This is the easiest way to have fresh, hot, coffee on demand. And you can make it with one hand!!
7. A Minivan
If you're interested in a semblance of coolness, skip this suggestion. Just keep on trying to convince yourself that your SUV/sedan/station wagon makes more sense/actually makes you look hip. Never mind that you're totally wrong and misguided and hanging all your hopes on a completely dysfunctional automobile choice. A minivan is the smartest, ugliest, uncoolest, sanest (AND TEMPORARY MIND YOU) option there is.
8. A good sitter
After five years of searching for Jesus' sister, last summer we discovered Ashley. A sweet, cute, 24-year-old, Lego-and-Star Wars knowledgeable, Early Education major who has her certification in CPR and First Aid, is a part-time lifeguard when she isn't babysitting her older brother's four kids under the age of five, and who ends every babysitting gig by cleaning up and saying: "Yes Ma'am; Thank You, Ma'am." These saints exist, people!!!! They are incredibly hard to find, but they are worth searching for. You only need a sitter this good for about a decade of your parenting journey, but she's worth selling all of your major organs for.
Children, meet Ashley. Kidneys, meet ice.
9. Convenience food
Apples, bananas, granola bars, peanut butter, raisins, frozen burritos, microwave popcorn, peanuts, baby carrots, cheese cubes, beer, wine in a box, yogurt in a tube, filet mignon on a stick. Buy this stuff. You won't want to cook or clean up for at least two years, but you will have to eat.
10. A smart phone
You already have this, right? But any device that offers excellent camera skills, a video camera, Internet access, texting, phone, games, baby distractions, and more -- all in one place -- is crucial. It's everything you need except Purell and Jager.
11. Concealer
I wasn't much of a makeup person until I got some after-pregnancy zits that demanded a generous slathering of concealer. Concealer that, on a whim, I just began plastering willy-nilly all over my face. HOLY GENIUS! Did you know that if you take a pencil concealer, such as the very lovely Urban Decay 24/7, and just start filling in from the forehead-down like your face is a freaking coloring book, you'll never look better or be happier? HOLY SMOKES. DO THIS NOW. Men included.
12. Alcohol and Comedy
I'm kind of out of suggestions by this point. But I'm pretty sure if you end everything with a big glass of wine and some Louis CK, you'll be pretty darn content.
WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE, WE DIDN'T HAVE HELMETS!
Some of my fondest childhood memories include: trips to Baskin-Robbins for chocolate chip milkshakes; riding my red Schwinn around wearing nothing but underwear (we lived in the country, OK, not a neighborhood!); and getting the living daylights beat out of me by my older brother. So, you can imagine my delight when I discovered Daniel Wilson's new book, Bro-Jitsu: The Martial Art of Sibling Smackdown (Bloomsbury). Every home-cooked method of offense and defense is outlined in this fabulous little treasury of takedowns. It'll certainly take today's parents on a pleasant trip down memory lane -- and it might even get you to take off your own kids' helmets and kneepads and that foamy stuff prompted by lawsuits that goes around sharp coffee table edges. We sure as hell didn't grow up with THAT! And we have the chest hair to prove it. Hi-YAH! (Below, you'll find a little author Q&A.)
errant parent: What propelled you to write Bro-Jitsu?
Daniel Wilson: My little brother inspired me to write Bro-Jitsu. Somehow, he and I are now in our early 30s with kids of our own. But we "fight" on every Christmas and Thanksgiving and family camping trip (and every other time we're within three feet of each other). But as anyone with a sibling knows, "fight" isn't the right word. Ritualistic combat is probably more like it. For lack of a better term, I call it Bro-Jitsu. One day, we tried to think of every move that we'd ever used on each other, and I realized how interesting and complex Bro-Jitsu was. Since siblings can't really hurt each other, most of the moves are very psychological. And with parents always hanging around, most moves involve nuanced elements of not getting caught. But my own experiences only represent a small slice of a vibrant ecosystem of sibling battle. So, I set out to catalogue every move I could get my hands on for this book.
Q: When was the last time you performed Bro-Jitsu on your brother?
A: My brother is four inches taller than me and about 30 pounds heavier. Even so, I'm two years older than he is. That makes me the big brother. This technicality isn't worth much. During the limited time in which I was literally the big brother, I gleefully fulfilled my torture duties. Perhaps overzealously. These days, the shoe is on the other foot. And the foot is between my shoulder blades. And this of course happens every time I see my brother.
Q: What is your favorite move?
A: "Hairy Mon" is probably my favorite move for its simplicity and grossness. Basically, you pin your sibling on her back and then bury the top of your head in her face, rubbing back and forth. If you're wearing Dep hair gel, the way we were back in 1990, then you've got a pretty nasty move on your hands. Or face, I guess. In the book, however, "Pull My Finger" is the funniest-written move (in my opinion). It literally makes me laugh out loud every single time I read it. Trouser bomb. What a wonderful pair of words. It's as if someone wrote this book just for me.
Q: As a parent, I think "The Possum" could be highly effective in avoiding annoying children and parental duties. Can you tell us more about this tactic?
A: "The Possum" is really more of a default move. It's when you run away from your brother and climb under the blankets and pretend to be dead. (In the heat of the moment, you can also just drop to the ground and pull your shirt over your head.) Then you hope that your sibling will just get tired of beating on your limp body. It is true that "The Possum" really comes into play when parents (or parental referees, as I call them) have become too jaded to care about kids' physical or mental well-being. Honestly though, it's probably the kids' fault for doing too much "Telling" or "Pre-emptive Crying" or "Squealing" (all moves in their own right).
Q: What sorts of injuries have you sustained over the years?
A: I've never suffered a permanent physical injury, although I still get a tingle when someone stands behind me and my back is exposed. As a 32-year-old man, I should know that my dentist is probably not going to punch me in the kidneys. That's why I count this reaction as a psychological scar.
Q: As a child, I was a frequent victim of "The Typewriter" move. I think this inevitably made handling rejection as a writer much easier. How does Bro-Jitsu prepare children for the rigors of the real world?
A: Limits. Having brothers and sisters expose our physical and mental limits is invaluable. Because if you try this stuff in the real world, they call it "assault." And you go to jail. But by wrestling and jostling and taunting your siblings in the safety of that hose-water filled hole you dug in your own backyard, we can figure out how far to go before somebody gets mad enough to start punching, or how mean we can be before we really hurt somebody's feelings and make them cry. Better to figure it out at home than at work or school.
Q: What is your Ph.D. in? How do you feel about ending a sentence with a preposition?
A: My Ph.D. is in Robotics. I chose to study robots for more than half a decade of my life because I think robots are neat. Yes, I am just a big kid at heart. A big kid who doesn't care much about what position a preposition happens to be in. (My editor on the other hand...)
Q: Do you think robots will take over the world?
A: They already have. We depend on robotics technology to maintain a functioning society. However, I don't believe robots are going to kill us all. Human beings are too damned scrappy and determined to live.
Q: What are your other books?
A: In the past five years (since I finished grad school), I have miraculously avoided getting a real job. Instead, I have written a bunch of books that feature funny premises but real science. They are: How to Survive a Robot Uprising, Where's My Jetpack!?, How to Build a Robot Army, and The Mad Scientist Hall of Fame. I've started writing fiction now, and early next year, Bloomsbury will release my young adult novel A Boy and His Bot. Next summer, Doubleday will release my first adult fiction novel Robopocalypse, which is just what it sounds like.
Q: How can we buy them?
A: At Amazon, B&N.com, and at bookstores everywhere.
Q: Thanks, Daniel! Wait...that wasn't a question. Don't answer that.
Daniel H. Wilson is a roboticist, author, and contributing editor to Popular Mechanics magazine. He lives in Portland, Oregon. Visit his site: www.danielhwilson.com.
YOU'LL BE SO ORGANIZED YOU MIGHT PULL A DUGGAR
Few things are more difficult than being a new parent, and, until The Baby File, the only thing that has made caring for a newborn any easier is the fact that babies (usually) are cute. Well, thanks to Amanda Dobbins's organizational masterpiece, you can breathe easy if your newborn pops out homely; this invaluable resource will make caregiving so simple, so stress-free, and so sane, you might think about pulling a Bob and Michelle Duggar. Below is our Q&A with mom-author-parenting maven Amanda Dobbins.
errant parent: What inspired you to write The Baby File?
Amanda Dobbins: A feeling of not being prepared and -- despite having parenting books up to my eyeballs -- having to dig for every little nugget of information. After I found what I was after, I wrote things down on envelopes and Post-its. I wanted to spare other new parents a similar fate so, in The Baby File, I give them some of my handiest tips, as well as a place to keep track of all their baby details.
Q: In your opinion, what's the hardest part about being a new parent? What helps ease that particular transition?
A: The hardest part is the sleeplessness, the shift in the relationship with your spouse, the realization that caring for a baby is more demanding than you ever imagined (but you're not sure why since babies sleep so much). That was more than one part, wasn't it? To ease these transitions, you have to talk about what you're feeling with those you love. You have to try to rest. And especially, be patient. You are evolving and adapting.
Q: What's the best parenting advice you've ever received?
A: Nothing lasts. Meaning that the best stages and the most trying are all ephemeral. If you can get in touch with that, you can better enjoy the truly exquisite moments and you can rest easier in the tough ones knowing that your child will not get stuck on his back like a turtle and need to be righted throughout the night for all time.
Q: What do you think today's parents place too much importance on?
A: Gear.
Q: What is something today's parents place too little importance on?
A: Focus. Fifteen minutes without checking email, answering the phone, or (insert any other media-based distraction) can seem like an eternity but we hold it in our power to just leave it be for a few minutes and tune in to what our child is doing or saying. A good evening with my kids is when I manage to do this at least once.
Q: Something I have heard you mention before is a "command center." Tell us a little more about that.
A: Nobody tells you when you decide to breastfeed that initially that is ALL you will do. So, the hours slip by and you find yourself making quite an impression on that couch. You've got your nursing pillow, maybe a burp cloth, maybe a good book. Don't forget tons of water, some snacks and, just to contradict what I already said, a phone. Instead of feeling trapped on the couch, you are now in command.
Q: I'm getting ready to travel with my child. Do you think he will fit in the overhead compartment?
A: No and neither will the two tons of #*%@ you toted with you so you could recreate your baby's complete experience wherever you're going. I am guilty of this so I feel OK about saying it. I used to travel with a recording of a bathtub running because that was the only way I could get a frequent night-waker to go back to sleep. Now, that may sound crazy to many but not to those who have been up every hour for a year.
Q: Oh. Then how do you recommend getting more than 3.4 ounces of liquid (gin, specifically) through security?
A: Tell them it's antipsychotics -- oops, I mean antibiotics -- and you're just following doctor's orders. If you say it's for the baby, you're probably home free. I was recently asked when going through security if my bottled water was "for the baby." I said yes and was forced to point to my 4-year-old. Let it be a lesson to you: if you want to travel with gin, make sure you have a baby with you. No, strike that; reverse it.
Q: Do you babysit?
A: Never. I wasn't even that kind of teen. But I think my daughter will be and she's almost there. You can call her in a pinch.
Q: What do you know about back-alley tummy tucks?
A: I thought I potentially needed one of those, but then we had several rounds of strep in the house this winter. Prolonged illness -- and the lack of appetite that goes along with it -- is actually as transformative as surgery. But I wouldn't recommend ingesting back-alley strep. It has been rough.
Q: How can we buy your book?
A: Amazon, B&N.com. If you buy it and it serves you well, please review it. (Click here to buy The Baby File.)
Amanda lives near Boston with her husband and two kids. Amanda created The Baby File because organization was a challenge for her as a new mom. She also felt like there was so much she wanted to know right away. To find answers to these many new questions, she consulted experts from doulas to daycare providers. Ultimately, she wanted to share the insight she gathered. Looking back on her first few years as a parent, she sees that getting organized was only part of the picture, and that she was also looking for the confidence and wisdom that come with experience. She hopes The Baby File offers new parents a bit of both.
Contact Amanda at: amandadobbins@gmail.com.
For more about the book, including links to Amanda's superb worksheets: www.babyfilebook.com.
AS IF A RABBIT AND COLORED EGGS WEREN'T WEIRD ENOUGH
Nothing better heralds a new season than a trippy Rankin/Bass stop-motion television special. And with that in mind, if Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus is Comin' to Town get you in the mood for the birth of Christ, then hold onto your hats and gear up for His resurrection by dropping some acid and watching the lesser-known but 10-times-more-delightful Here Comes Peter Cottontail.
Even if you don't celebrate Easter, you might as well pop this beaut in the DVD player. What else are you going to watch this equinox? What? Imagination Movers on the Disney Channel? Four hirsute men who should have lost their virginity by now but instead are desperately seeking Warehouse Mouse? Please. Those guys need to stop terrorizing children and go back to work at Valvoline. Rankin/Bass, my friends, is the reason for the season. Mescaline-induced 1970's brilliance is where it's at.
So, what -- you may ask -- is all the huff about? Good question. All I know is that something's been huffed, and something's been puffed, because this is the craziest way to explain Easter I've ever seen. (A close second goes to David Sedaris's essay: "Jesus Shaves.")
Anyway, the story begins, much like Rudolph does, with a kindly narrator. This time around it's not snowman Burl Ives, but red-headed Seymour S. Sassafras, voiced by Danny Kaye, who's suspiciously jittery and a dead-ringer for Conan O'Brien. He tells how Peter Cottontail has been appointed by April Valley's chief rabbit to be the new Easter Bunny, even though Peter has much to learn about dependability and honesty.
Sounds like pretty normal kid TV fare thus far, huh?
Well, enter the villian, Irontail, an evil rabbit who's lost his cute little cottontail in a roller-skating incident and now wears a prosthetic and who's determined to undermine Peter's rise to fame. Irontail wears a patent leather suit and a Colonel Sander's string tie. Irontail rides a giant bat, named Montresor, that sports a Western saddle. And Irontail begins his sabotage of Easter by clogging Peter's rooster alarm clock with corn-flavored bubblegum. Best of all? Irontail is voiced by Vincent Price. Oh, and Casey Kasem voices Peter Cottontail.
Here's where the producers' mushrooms must have kicked in. En route to Easter past, the time machine is attacked by Irontail's rocket-riding spider mechanic, and ultimately is forced to crash through giant calendar pages and land in every single holiday of the year. Peter then attempts to give away Easter eggs on Mother's Day, the Fourth of July, Halloween, etc., all while fending off Irontail and rescuing a lady's bonnet and dressing like George Washington and befriending a witch named Madame Esmerelda and figure skating with some chick named Donna. Also, there's a caterpillar sex scene.
I don't think I really need to say anymore. Except that I found the DVD at Rite Aid for a pretty good deal. If you like seeing your kids all slack-jawed and silent in front of a flickering TV, don't waste another minute. Oh, and pick up some absinthe on the way home, why don't you? Happy Easter!
EVEN BETTER THAN BLOODY DINOSAURS
Sometimes you read a kids' book that is so dang good, you want to buy a copy specifically for the grown-up bookshelf. This happened to me yesterday, at the library, when I came across Let's Do Nothing! I'd been in the children's section for about an hour with my son (who'd requested a trip specifically to find picture books detailing the gruesome, meteor-related demise of the dinosaurs) when Tony Fucile's gem caught my eye. (By the way, just like celebrity mags, I always judge children's books by their covers.)
My son was unimpressed by the jacket, but I insisted that if he was going to check out five books on brimstone and suffocation, he also had to check out one like "this" ("this" meaning "literary"). And by bedtime, he'd had such a fill of apocalyptic illustrations, he agreed to let me read Let's Do Nothing! What a hit! Not since the episode where SpongeBob repeatedly blows out the crotch of his pants, have we laughed such genuine belly laughs.
The premise is simple: after "doing something" all day, Frankie and Sal try to "do nothing" only to quickly fail. The hilarious illustrations are spot-on; every quirk and twitch and bead of sweat show just how hard it is for a boy, particularly, to sit still. Not to mention, the disparity between the two characters is fabulous -- lanky and demanding versus squatty and earnest. It was enough to make my son forget about the triceratops whose eyeballs got sucked out by the sonic boom. And enough to make me order a copy for myself.
MAKE MINE A DOUBLE
So it snows. And it snows. And it snows. Last week, 49 of the 50 United States had snow on the ground. Hawaii -- surprise, surprise -- was the holdout. And (out of respect, not bitterness) we'll refrain from making cheap jokes here about how Hawaii (that hussy) is always getting lei'd.
Anyway. The rest of us fish-belly pale citizens are cold.
And sick.
And tired.
Tired, particularly, of our kids not going to school. I mean, parents can only watch a kid make so many Play-Doh face-fossils before they suggest the kid go back to trying to Scotch tape his nose to the back of his head.
Flash cards? No.
Nick Jr? Yawn.
A round of indoor baseball with my wadded up pantyhose and a fireplace poker? Gee, Mom! Yes! You're awesome!!
No, I'm not. (Blush.) Really, I'm not. I'm just over here enjoying myself a hot toddy. You go on now. Scooty patootie! Mommy's going to throw back some tea.
As you should.
Here's the recipe:
1 cup of hot tea (Earl Grey is best, dishwater will do.)
1 tablespoon of honey (Organic clover is best, Splenda will do.)
2 ounces of bourbon (Woodford Reserve is best, lighter fluid will do.)
1/4 of a lemon squeezed (A succinct blast of Pledge will suffice.)
and finally...a cinnamon stick (This is darling, but we're not going for darling here, are we? I mean, you're not going to drink this and watch Olympic Ice Dancing, right? You're going to hold your nose, shoot back a couple of these, hand the kids some paint ball guns, and turn on Anchorman, aren't you? Oh, thank goodness. You had me worried.)
THE TAMING OF THE SLEW
At our house, we have a slew of Legos. Most days, we wade through them, tiptoe around them, or pretend they don't bother us because, at least, they're a "brain toy." But after rendering ourselves lame on one too many primary-colored land mines, we knew some sort of order was in order.
After a visit (or, should I say, pilgrimage) to the Lego store in Orlando, we got smart and started sorting our Legos by color. That's how it was done in the store, and, if you notice (which I hadn't before), that's what the Lego kit directions always suggest. Our next problem was what to put the colored-sorted Legos in. We tried Tupperware, but the containers were too deep -- meaning to play with the Legos, or to find a specific Lego, our son was forced to dump the contents. And if you're like us, the sound of a big-ass container of toys being dumped (usually when you're only two sips into your morning coffee) is akin to talons on a blackboard.
After lots of Internet research, we found what we hoped was the solution. Enter the Sterilite 7-Drawer Craft Cart. Made of sturdy plastic and with seven shallow drawers that don't require dumping, it also has casters for rolling ease and lids for each container. We bought two -- 14 drawers for 10 Lego colors, Lego kit directions, and some miscellany. We're in love! Never mind that the sort of plastic this savior is made out of probably gives off toxic fumes, when you need something this bad (think: epidural) you don't care if you start to sprout a tail a few years down the road.
These $30-ish guys ar
e available pretty much everywhere that requires a schlep across town -- Target, Walmart, etc. And they are probably pretty handy for girls' toys, too. We don't have a Polly Pocket in this house, but we hear they come with lots and lots of teeny tiny tidbits. Think of this as Polly's condo.