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You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide.
Pre-order from:
- Simon & Schuster
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You'll Laugh, You'll Cry
I don't usually go for the "we're all in this together, girls" sort of humor that characterizes many books about being a mother. The laughs always seem too easy and if I really want to chuckle about poop, I'd prefer to do it on my own because chances are, whatever happened during the wee-hours diaper change is indeed funnier, but also more disgusting than what I'll find in easy laughs books.
BUT. But my sister-in-law gave me (somewhat at the bidding of Felix, who wandered into a store that was heavily promoting it) a book that really is funny. Part of the hilarity, I think, is that it holds no single target for its barbs, everyone is suspect, from the spoiled urban mother to the placenta-burying type, to the women who inexplicably married idiot men. And all of these types are happily skewered in charming photographs of adorable anthropomorphized chicks (as in the bird) with savage captions.
At any rate, if you're looking for a present for a mother or impending mother who isn't overly sensitive, or for someone who is but who also has a good sense of humor, you may want to check out Hatched by Sloane Tanen.
On darker fronts, I tormented myself by reading a Salon interview with Susan Gregory Thomas, author of Buy Buy Baby about the obnoxious and unfortunately aggressive marketing campaigns that are visited upon the toddler set. It takes considerable amounts of energy to fight this system, and I'm not sure it is even possible to be successful.
One suspects one is ahead of the game if one manages to encourage skepticism.
posted by Elise at 8:02 AM
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Standing in the shade at the Central Park Zoo this morning, watching my husband and Felix enjoy the sea lion feeding (11:30, 2:00, and 4:00 daily, in case you're interested), I had a chance to think about how so many people-- notably the ones who don't have small children handy-- seem to be so much more fascinated by infants than toddlers.
Why was I not up in front, watching the sea lion swan diving antics? I'll tell you why. I was carrying a sleeping Sebastian in a sling and I was worried that he would get too much sun. I was being responsible, but sorry to be out of the action. Infants tend to keep you out of it a little bit, at least until they can hold their heads up independently, which leaves me always feeling torn.
So it is confusing to me why, when I walked into a diner with both boys, Sebastian (sleeping but grunting) got all sorts of interest ("what a marvelous creature" someone said-- a marvelous creature with cradle cap and weird blotches, but a compliment is a compliment), while Felix got the more standard nod and smile.
I'm sure there are just as many infants a toddlers hanging around so it can't really be novelty and for my money, a toddler is substantially more entertaining. (Sebastian is great but he has a small mostly digestion-based skill set right now that holds few surprises- and the few that do crop up are unwelcome- for his parents). I can be just about to jump out the window when the Felix, that sly fox who has been making me crazy, will suddenly switch gears and break into a tuneless rendition of a song, the title of which is unknown to me but the only lyric I can understand is: "Mom-my, I love you!" And even my black little heart softens a bit.
They're insane little terrorists, but for entertainment toddlers have more than a leg up over infants, so why does the 5-week old get the lion's share of public comment?
posted by Elise at 12:12 PM
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Missing Something? vol.1
Witness the first in this season's catalog of misplaced items.
This story may have a happy ending (if you're the Polyanna sort who thinks Shane lives, or that Thelma and Louise landed on an enormous trampoline): days later it was no longer dangling from the scaffolding.
posted by Elise at 12:26 PM
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Learning
One of the problems with the vast array of educational philosophies for preschoolers, apart from the fact that they all seem to be in hostile conflict with each other, is that, to someone uninitiated (and I'm thinking here of myself), they all seem equally good (or questionable) and deciding which pedagogical philosophy to hitch one's kid to when he or she is just starting to talk is a weird endeavor. One might have as much luck with the Magic 8 Ball school of decision-making.
- What say, should I go with a Steiner school?
-My sources say no.
- How about a Reggio Emilia based preschool?
- Answer hazy. Try again.
So it was with interest that I read Emily Bazelon's piece in Slate about Montessori education. I have to admit that I have been rather Montessori-resistant. Maybe it was the smugness of a toy store that favors Montessori toys. I have a love/fear relationship with this place because the toys are so beautiful, but I feel completely inadequate and unworthy to shop there because my kids also have the weird plastic representational toys. I don't know if this comes from the fact that I am, at bottom, a contrarian. I have a hard time subscribing to a philosophy of rug cleaning, let alone something more emotionally fraught.
Anyway, Bazelon offers a really good description of how Montessori schools work and what they're all about. Of course, many Montessori schools, here in New York at least, don't strictly adhere to the protocols, but it gives you a good sense of how things work. And it sounds as if they work incredibly well. Often.
I am not sending my son to a Montessori school for a number of reasons, some of which have to do with educational style, but given Bazelon's experience I do wonder a little how heavily I weighted my own tastes in the whole school choice process. I also wonder if that is necessarily a bad thing, given how little information I have handy about Felix's learning style, and how I will also be a participant in the school and it won't do if I can't convincingly talk the talk.
posted by Elise at 7:10 AM
1 Comments
Need a Distraction?
Games, particularly those of the online variety, aren't quite my bag, but my husband not only loves them, he loves to pursue them. He seeks out games in all styles and genres and has been rather annoyed with how feeble the online games and educational materials for toddlers have been.
And then one day some weeks ago, new dulcet tunes burbled out of my husband's computer speakers and I met "Boowa" and "Kwala" for the first time. My husband had discovered Up To Ten, a website that has games and projects (in English and French and, if you're a premium member, even more languages) for children starting around toddler-age and going until they are, yep, about ten. The Felix has become addicted in a way that is quite unprecedented. His abiding passion for the San Diego Zoo DVD took a couple of viewings to ignite, but the obsession with this think was instant and immutable. An offer of a visit with "Boowa" and "Kwala" the two main characters is enough to short circuit most bouts of baby sibling induced clinginess and fits of temper.
(No, I am absolutely not above trying to distract Felix from the horror of the permanence of his sibling. In general this transition has been going along without too much difficulty, but there have been moments. Remind me at some point to elaborate on the Button Incident.)
I can't quite tell, because I have decided that my husband will be the designated "keeper of Boowa and Kwala" and I don't really study the site, exactly how educational the games Felix currently plays are, but there is all sorts of opportunity in there and the site has no ads and nothing particularly annoying.
Even the music is sort of all right though perhaps I say this because the tunes and lyrics are about as complicated as the little songs I make up to entertain myself as I walk the dog or prepare some kind of meal.
I'm sure we are late to the party, as usual, and that the general population of parents is well aware of Up to Ten, but if you aren't, allow me to offer it to you as a happy option for the toddler set.
posted by Elise at 8:41 AM
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Mother's Day Pastoral
Cheers to all, whether you're mother to a human, canine, feline, reptilian, avian, fishy, or creature from any other family, genus or species.
For my part, I've never been part of a family that makes much of a deal for Mother's Day (though this lovely collection of blossoms arrived from a secret source I have reason to strongly suspect was my in-laws), but if my feeble will power fades, I may try to work the chocolate angle.
posted by Elise at 5:15 AM
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Are You Trying to Tell Me Something?
When I had Felix, I wrote here about how the pride of receiving his birth certificate (which really did make the triumph of having him seem tangible to me), was mildly tempered by the huge volume of SIDS and "Don't Shake Your Baby" literature that came stuffed in the envelope with this precious document.
This time around, the concerns of the governments and businesses that are aware of my having had a child are rather different.
When I was around six months gone, my insurance company called to ask a series of questions, many of which were about whether or not I was depressed and if so how depressed I might actually be. The conversation also contained a quiz about whether or not I was a victim of domestic abuse. Curious, I thought.
At a pre-birth hospital visit, where I had to give a little blood and answer a few questions, I was again asked if I was subject to abuse at home. Suddenly it became clear why the little office had no room to accommodate partners in it and there was only a solitary chair outside the office. My husband was, actually, lurking outside and even as I assured the woman who was taking my blood and quizzing me that my home life is great, I was conjuring TV movie-of-the-week scenarios wherein I would have to lean in to her and speak Pig Latin or something to make her aware of the danger I was really in, behind my bright smiles.
And then yesterday, a big questionnaire arrived from my insurance company, this time about post partum depression. Their concern is extraordinary, really, as are the PPD risk factors, which include: "chronic yeast infections," "poor nutrition," "severe morning sickness," "first baby over the age of 30" (?!?) "problems in your marriage" (from the No Mystery department), "breastfeeding stopped too soon after delivery," and "poor relationship with your mother."
I respect public initiatives to prevent bad things from happening and general misery from setting in, but I am interested in this shift from the messages of 2 years ago which were, as I said, much more infant-centric.
Having said that, Sebastian's birth certificate did come with the "Don't Shake" and SIDS cautions.
posted by Elise at 8:45 AM
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A Smattering
It has been a little hard to focus lately, in part because just staying awake and remembering to buy more paper towels is a feat onto itself, but also I find I'm hyperaware and a bit worried about how my parenting has a new audience. The Felix, who was once only the recipient of my strategies, is now something of a critic, and since he has all sorts of newly discovered language skills, he is making his opinions and general ruminations known.
I have been quite concerned about his reactions to his new sibling, who doesn't do much yet, but I have tried to let them get to know each other. This is all right, I suppose and I was charmed when, Felix announced, in the middle of one of those tricky newborn crying/wailing jags that Sebastian had gotten on, that his brother "Sounds like a sheep." Indeed, he did and it was a funny thing to say that made the unhappy infant less problematic for me.
But now Felix has taken to poking gently at his sibling and saying, "I want to make the baby cry."
I fear this is somehow my doing, either for being so amused at Felix's comment or for unconsciously creating a situation where he would be so cranky for attention that he feels he must prod his brother.
Of course, of course, if this is the worst that happens, I'm in good shape, I know, but remember, all of my cylinders aren't really firing.
But enough of my navel gazing (and yes, it is still MUCH TOO EASY for me to gaze at it, but such is the effect of lots of malted milk balls).
Something of some interest, because I hadn't really thought about it, is this interview with writer Liza Mundy that Salon just ran. Mundy has a book out now called Everything Conceivable: How Assisted Reproduction is Changing Men Women and the World, and I was a bit surprised at some of the negative things she had to say about assisted reproduction. Generally I'm more than happy to embrace thoughts of evil corporations, but am less sanguine when it comes to contemplating the downside of assisted reproduction from the point of view of the people who want so badly to become parents. It is so difficult not to feel horrible when reading Mundy's very logical discussion of the problems of assisted reproduction when one knows so many people who have been made immeasurably happy as a result of it.
But then, I haven't read the book and given the backlog of material I need to get through that I've been shoving under the bed, it is unlikely I'll manage it.
posted by Elise at 1:24 PM
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Things I Had Forgotten
The old saw that people trot out when you're knocked up with any child that isn't your first is that nature makes you forget the savage pain of childbirth, the misery of the early months and all the difficult parts of having an infant because this amnesia is necessary for the survival of the species.
Perhaps this is the case. I write this from behind a migraine haze surely triggered by not sleeping enough. I do remember what this was like, though. I have not forgotten. It is absolutely easy for me to recall the absolute dread I had of evenings when the Felix was very young. Just contemplating bedtime made me want to weep since I knew the night would just stretch on and on and I'd catch naps between these bouts of dealing with an impatient seemingly unpleasable kid.
The song remains the same and I have a new infant who also suffers from the nighttime cranks. I only wish I had figured out decent coping mechanisms because what I do these days is completely not useful. On Friday I stumbled into a pharmacy and bought "Gripe Water" in spite of the fact that my kid isn't gassy or colicky. I have eaten my (quite substantial in this postpartum moment) weight in malted milk balls and Good n' Plenty because that's the kind of cuisine I turn to when things get this way.
Please don't tell me to embrace complex carbohydrates, my candy fetish, as guilty as it makes me feel, is one of the few pleasures I'm permitted right now (I'm still under the post-baby 6-week fun moratorium).
So while I absolutely remember the panicky haze of this exhaustion, what I can't recall is how long it lasts.
Please remind me. Surely it can't persist through the summer. Surely this kid will get his days and nights straight. Surely I'm not deluding myself with this hope.
posted by Elise at 4:58 AM
4 Comments
Look Ma, No See-Saws!
So I can't profess to having researched this extensively but where are all the see-saws that used to populate the City's playgrounds? I hadn't noticed their absence until repeated readings of Spot Goes to School, in which the title character at recess goes so high on a see-saw he is obscured by a tree, made me think that I hadn't seen one in a while.
Have they just gone out of style? Are they just so incredibly dangerous that there is no way of salvaging the fun of the ride, because of the mortal danger it offers? Is there more pleasure to be found in other ways?
There is quite a lot of thought being devoted these days to playground design in New York City. Several months ago, the New York Times published an interesting piece a few months ago about a new proposed downtown playground to be designed by David Rockwell, who has done some pretty interesting work lately.
But where are the see-saws? What has become of them? Is this just a New York extinction or is the extinction more widespread?
posted by Elise at 5:17 AM
3 Comments
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