Our first potty training success

To my friends without kids, go ahead and skip this entry. Please.

Tonight, after I'd stripped her clothes off and started running her bath, Z ran up to me holding her crotch shouting "My 'gina, my 'gina!" I asked her what was wrong and she said "Pee's ready to come out." I jumped into action, placing the potty seat on the toilet and offering her a choice between that and her potty chair. She chose the chair, but nothing happened. "I want a diaper," she said, but she agreed to hop in the tub instead.

As soon as her feet hit the warm water, she insisted "I need a diaper," and her body language definitely indicated a major need to go. I popped her back on the potty chair and went into cheerleader mode saying "Pee-pee wants to come out! Pee-pee's ready to come out of your body! I'm so sure you can do it I'm going to run downstairs and grab an M&M for you."

I raced down, and as I was coming back up, taking the steps 2 and 3 at a time, I heard her say, "Mommy, I made water!"

She was thrilled to flush her pee away and call Daddy to share the good news. I'm sure she won't be truly potty trained for a few months at least, but now she knows she can go in the potty instead of a diaper.

Bookshelf

I just finished Joshilyn Jackson's Gods in Alabama, and I truly enjoyed it. Couldn't put it down, really.

There are so many twists and turns I don't want to preview the plot at all. Just read it and know that is isn't going where you think it's going. But once you get there, it all makes sense.

Your daily funny: My Box in a Box

Some unknown singer has created a video response to the SNL/YouTube phenomenon that was JT's Christmas Box.

Brilliant

I've got a bad case of I-wish-I'd-thought-of-that. Advertising for Peanuts commends O&M Mumbai for this brilliant Kleenex ad. A teen magazine's agony column...printed on Kleenex tissue. "This new school of advertising is smart but it's also relevant, it's true, it actually sells the product and best of all it's not really even advertising."

From the mouth of a babe

And now for the part of my blog that will haunt my daughter's preteen and teenage years. The part where I capture some of the adorable-yet-terribly-embarrassing things that come out of her mouth. Gems like...

"Baby Reid has a penis." (She said this to his mother, who was sitting for us last night. Julie apparently replied with, "Yes. Yes, he does."

"Hey Daddy! I had a big poopy! It was big and messy. It was all in my, in my 'gina! When I get bigger 'n bigger I go poopy in the potty!" (This was said to Josh after Z and I returned from a diaper change in the Crate & Barrel bathroom. She illustrated with gestures.)

And, when we were talking about the baby in Mama's tummy...

"Hi baby! Baby boy gonna have a penis?"
"Yes, if it's a boy, he will have a penis."
"Let's pull him out?"
"No, the baby is going to stay in Mama's tummy for a long time."

Your daily funny

Once again I'm behind the curve posting this Smirnoff ad/parody video, which I first saw at the office a few months back. It still cracks me up, though.

Global warming

It's been an unseasonably warm January in Chicago. Rain instead of snow and sleet. Fall jackets instead of down coats, hats and mittens. And everyone I talk to seems to agree. This is not normal. This must be global warming. And while few Chicagoans will complain about a mild winter, it's also kind of freaking us out (me and those I've talked to at least).

But you want to know what really freaks me out? Reading about places where global warming is destroying whole communities.

5 babies in 12 months

Check out this unbelievable story about a family of 8 in England that had spontaneous twins and triplets within a single year.

Good Samaritan update

So around 9pm last night, the cell phone I'd found on the sidewalk near Quaker Tower rang again. This time the called ID said "Linda T-" and the caller was Linda, the phone's real owner. She works right around the corner from where I found the phone and I gave her instructions for picking it up at my office. I also offered to mail it to her, but she said she didn't think she could survive that long without her telephone.

She called me a couple of times this morning, once inviting me to join her and her friends at Klay Oven, an Indian restaurant around the corner from my building. Eventually, around noon, she called again and I met her downstairs in the building lobby. She was a little heavy and frumpy and probably 40ish, which isn't surprising as Lindas tend to belong to a single generation.

She asked for my business card, which I gave her. My boss thinks she'll send me a thank you note or gift, but I'm just glad the mystery is solved, a happy woman has her phone back, and I've made my contribution to karma.

13 week belly

Just trying to be a good Samaritan

It was pouring rain when I left my client's office downtown around 5pm this evening. I had only walked a block or two when I spotted a mobile phone lying on the pavement. I've lost my phone twice, only to call it and arrange to retrieve it from a good Samaritan. So I grabbed the phone and continued on to my CTA stop.

As soon as I got home and changed out of my sopping wet clothes, I scrolled through the phone's address book. None of the numbers were labeled "home" or "ICE," so I clicked on "Mom & Dad" and hit connect.

The next 10 minutes were excruciating as the woman who answered the phone seemed to think it was her own phone that had gone missing. I said, "But this phone has your number listed as Mom & Dad--do you maybe have a child who might have lost a phone?" She continued to mutter about how in the world her phone could have ended up downtown, and she seemed absolutely baffled by my description of the phone and the carrier (Verizon).

But she insisted it was hers and said she'd send her husband to pick it up. I spent a few minutes trying to give her my work address, but she either couldn't hear well or was too flustered to understand a word I was saying. With Josh yelling that dinner was ready and Z clamoring to play with the phone herself, I finally got her husband on the phone and said, "I work at the Apparel Center. 11th floor." I gave the name of my company and said "Ask the receptionist for Alma. If you have any difficulties, call your lost phone and I'll answer."

I had serious doubts about either of them really coming to claim the phone when, about 20 minutes later, the found phone rang. I answered it and heard, "Linda?"

"I'm not Linda," I said. "I found this phone today and I'm trying to locate its owner."

"This is the woman you called earlier...I figured out that you found my daughter's cell phone. She lives downtown. We'll still come pick it up tomorrow at your office."

Now, I'm glad to be repaying the good lost cell phone karma I've benefited from in the past, but how can these people be so completely, frustratingly clueless? Are they old, doddering fools? Did she think I was some kind of criminal trying to scam her? I'd like to think that if someone called my mom at home and said, "Hey, I found this cell phone and you're number was programmed in as 'Mom,'" she'd figure out pretty quick that I (or perhaps my sister) lost my phone. And she'd give the caller an alternate number for me or call me and tell me to call my phone, it had been found.

To be continued tomorrow...

No hablo

I don't speak a lick of Spanish. I stupidly took French and German classes in high school and college, and I really, really regret not learning the number two language of our nation.

My regret deepened this morning as I dropped of Z. As predicted, her beloved Adriana gave birth on December 26th, and since she reopened her day care on January 2nd, she's been relying on her mother to fill in a great deal. Which means that the two women in charge of the kids probably know 20 words of English between them.

More importantly, Z is not about to accept Adriana's mom as an Adriana replacement, and Z clung desperately to me the minute we arrived. Adriana's mother, whom I think is named Ramona (pronounced "Ya-Mona"), asked Z a series of long, complicated-sounding questions in Spanish as she whimpered against me. And to each one, Z said "No" and buried her head in my lap. Finally, I mentioned Adriana and Baby Adrian and Ramona asked Z if she'd like to go up for a visit. (I'm guessing here, because I couldn't understand a word outside of the names and "tu.") Z raised her arms to Ramona to be picked up and they headed upstairs without protest.

I'm so glad Z understands Spanish, and I hope she doesn't lose it when she enters preschool. I do plan to enroll her in a Spanish immersion program at our local elementary school when the time comes.

Baby does doppler

I had my midwife appointment last night, and while they kept me waiting for over an hour, I forgave them the minute Gayle handed Z the doppler machine and invited her to "help find the baby's heartbeat."

Due to the extremely unskilled technician (aka my 2 year old), it took a few seconds to locate the heartbeat. But it was strong and loud.

This is news?

Apparently Pennsylvania governor Ed Rendell made a run for the border with the CEO of Taco Bell at a Philadelphia area fast food restaurant, thus reinforcing that the food is "safe to eat." I don't know who the PR agency is for Yum! Brands, but this takes the cake.

Go Wal-Mart

When a company as big, powerful and successful as Wal-Mart gets behind something, you know it's going to move the needle. So more power to them as they push Americans to adopt compact florescent light bulbs.

We're committed to the bulbs, and we've been swapping them into our light fixtures as the old-fashioned kind burn out.

It's official: I'm knocked up!

We're 12 weeks along and I just told my boss at work, so it's time to broadcast the happy news to the world. Baby #2 is due in mid-July! I couldn't be happier or more terrified of the sleepless nights to come.

I'll post belly pics and ultrasounds in the near future. And I've got an appointment with my midwife this evening, so here's to hoping the heartbeat is loud and strong.

Food

I've avoided blogging about Z's eating habits largely because I've made a conscious decision not to make food an issue with her. She ate everything I put in front of her from 6 months to a year of age, but since she turned one she's the Arbitrary Princess of Picky...at least with us. She's slightly less particular at day care, but even Adriana can't get her to eat fruit.

Yes, you heard that right. My toddler refuses to eat fresh or canned fruit. Only dried or dehydrated fruit will do. And bananas, rarely, or applesauce, if she's in the right mood. Vegetables are allowable, but only in soup or hidden in sauces. And usually only in Adriana's food, but corn and ketchup are always acceptable. She likes cheese, but only if it is yellow and cut up. Unless it is a free sample from Whole Foods, in which case anything goes.

But here's the rub, and the reason I try not to get too bent out of shape about my daughter's diet. The foods she'll always eat aren't all that bad for her. She requests Weetabix and warm Grape-Nuts by name, gobbles peanut butter by the spoonful, and snacks on peanut butter and jam or honey sandwiches on whole wheat bread. She loves spaghetti, lasagna, pizza, bagels, and macaroni and cheese. And less you think she only eats carbs, get this: she eats hummus straight up. No cracker or pita required.

So that's the good news. Here's the bad news. Z thinks she's entitled to a snack every time she's in her car seat or the stroller. And dry Cheerios will no longer do. "I want sumpin' else," she says. She usually demands "a bar" (meaning a cereal bar), and while they aren't entirely nutritionally void, they're pretty close to junk in my book. So we're working on reducing our on-the-go snacking along with getting her back on Dr. Weissbluth's sleep schedule.

I tell myself she won't starve, but I was reminded again today how slim she really is. Both my neighbor's 14-month old and my friend's 6-month old boy weigh the same as Z.

Homemade marshmallows

Yeah, it sounds crazy. And it is a bit of a sticky mess, but I was so inspired by this posting on Slashfood that I whipped up a batch of homemade marshmallows, which I'm sharing with friends.

And yes, they are that good.

Happy New Year

Wishing all my readers a safe and happy New Year. We rang in 2007 12 hours early with a playgroup New Year's Brunch and a countdown to noon. Check out the pictures from today and our travels earlier this week here.

We're back

It wasn't quite a vacation, but our trip back East to visit friends and family was pretty successful. We're exhausted, yes, but it was nice to catch up in person with so many of our favorite people. And seeing our daughter connect with her relatives is even more rewarding.

That said, I have a few resolutions for next time.

1) Naps are holy. Honor and keep them like an observant Jew on the Sabbath. If you push the nap too far, it won't happen at all and an over-tired child means a cranky parent. Did I mention Z took a nap only 2 days out of 6?
2) You can never pack enough snacks. Especially those "special treat" snacks that your toddler loves more than anything. A little fruit leather on the teeth is well worth the peace and quiet. Especially after you've listened to whining for an hour straight. And subjected strangers to it too.
3) Each parent deserves a little me-time. A break from all the jolly togetherness and chaos involved in organizing an outing for multiple generations. We didn't figure this out until the very end of our trip. I sent Josh off to the movies and he came back a much happier, more patient man. I'll be sure to squeeze in a massage or just some quiet time on the beach with a book during our upcoming vacation in Akumal.
4) Eat at least a couple pieces of fresh fruit every day. With travel and eating out, I sometimes find my diet becomes a little too carb, meat and sodium-heavy. I feel so much better when there's a bowl of fruit available for snacking.
5) And keep that portable DVD player charged!

More people!

We've packed the past couple of days with friends and relatives, and Z's continued to astonish us with her capacity for recalling people's names. We spent the 25th in Harrisburg with Josh's aunt and uncle. In addition to us and Josh's parents and sister, his cousin Penny was there with her husband and three kids (one 3 1/2 year old boy and twin 3 month old girls). It was a typical Jewish Christmas in that we ate Chinese takeout. Unfortunately we'd already had Chinese food the night before in a typical Jewish Christmas Eve.

On the 26th we took Amtrak from Wilmington to Union Station in D.C. Z loved the train--no surprise there, but I was disappointed that our "reserved coach seats" were essentially meaningless. We walked the length of the train looking for two seats together, but every seat we passed had someone stretched out asleep on it. We finally found empty seats in the quiet car, figuring that if the conductor tried to throw us out, we'd make him find us seats together.

Since arriving in D.C., we've visited with my Grandma Marge, Rick's daughters (my Mom's boyfriend's college-age daughters) and Josh's Grandpa Reuben as well as his Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Gary and their family. The latter we met (along with my in-laws) in a private party room at Maggiano's, the perfect location for lunch when the invitees include an untamed 2-year-old, a frail 94-year-old and an autistic 14-year-old.

Old friends

Well technically they're all Josh's old friends, but having known my husband's high school buddies for about 10 years myself, I'm honored to call them my old friends as well.

We started this morning with a brief tour of the model trains at the Brandywine River Museum. Then Josh, Z and I headed into Center City to have lunch with his high school friend Erica, her husband and their adorable 1 1/2 year old daughter (and they've got another one on the way). Z was delighted to get to play with someone her own size, and she wasted no time helping herself to Adair's toy collection and sippy cups.

We headed back to West Chester for a late nap, which I took--even if Z didn't. And shortly after I woke up, Beth and twin brothers Courtney and Brandon dropped by. In spite of having plowed through two days without an afternoon nap, Z was in fine form, performing all of her tricks and generally charming the crowd. She hadn't seen Beth for about a year, but she instantly reconnected with her very first babysitter.

West Chester

We arrived safe and mostly sane in Philadelphia around 5:30pm today. Z never did take her nap, so it wasn't too hard to put her to bed once we finally got to my in-laws and had dinner. The Philadelphia airport was an absolute zoo. I don't think we've ever had to wait so long to retreive our luggage--at least from a domestic flight!

The quote of the trip: I had taken Z to the ladies' room at Midway Airport for a pre-flight diaper change. As I was packing up the bag, I set her down on the floor next to me. She turned right around and peered through the cracks in the bathroom stalls and shouts, "I see a lady peeing!"

I told her it wasn't polite to look and when the woman came out she said to my curious kid, "You're totally busted." Thank goodness she was a mother herself.

Planes, trains and automobiles

And a 2 year old. That part makes it extra fun. I've spent the last couple of days weighing the must-brings against the nice-to-haves and the maybe-we'll-miss-it-but-it-just-won't-fits. It's easy to pack for a newborn. A couple of tiny sleepers, a handful of tiny diapers and my boobs, which I'd be hard pressed to forget. Maybe a sling or Baby Bjorn so I can keep my hands free for magazines or a smoothie.

With a toddler, the clothes are bigger, the diapers are bigger and the snacks and sippy cups could fill a carry-on. Plus there's the enormous car seat, the baby backpack or stroller and the toddler entertainment: crayons, stickers and paper. Books. And the portable DVD player, which is worth every penny and ever moment of guilt I've spent on it.

And because hope springs eternal, Josh and I pack books and magazines for ourselves. Hahahah.

But in spite of the controlled chaos that is air travel with a 2 year old, I'm looking forward to this trip. We're going to see four generations of relatives and meet Josh's cousins' kids and my Mom's boyfriend's daughters for the first time.

Eleanor, this is for you

Why every parent should blog. I'm giving you until mid-May.

Instant commercial, just add water

Dove just launched a promotion inviting consumers (women, presumably) to create a commercial for Dove Cream Oil Body Wash...an ad that could run on the Oscars broadcast. They've provided an iMovie-like video editing program complete with stock photos, stock videos and stock music. And they're open to you uploading and using your own original music, video, photos and voice-overs.

Seems like a really fun--if time-consuming project. I wonder how many consumers will take the time and effort required to participate. I'm consider doing it myself, but as an Oglivy/OgilvyAction employee, I'm not eligible.

From the mouth of a babe

Notable quotables from 25-month-old Z:

"I don't wanna share my book. Because it's mine."
[After wiggling her plastic ladybug at me] "Don't be scared, Mama. It's just a ladybug."
"I want Weetabix wif peanut butter an' milk. Just like Mama."
"I want Grape-Nuts. Not hot. Warm."
[In the bathtub] "I'm a dolphin! I'm swimming around in da sea. I'm in da aquarium. I'm a man!"
[Shouted through a funnel, megaphone-style] "Don' touch Dada! Don' touch Dada! Don'! Touch! Dada!...Don' touch da candles!"
[To Daddy, while wriggling half-naked on the living room carpet] "I'm rolling around on the floor, Dada! Mama upstairs gonna get me a diaper... I need a wipe too, Mama!"
[After having a taste of Dijon chicken and spitting it out on my lap] "It's not yummy. It's yucky!"
[As Z and I were leaving for daycare this morning] "Bye-bye Dada! I wuv you! Don't come wif us Dada! Say home! Don't come outside wif us!"

And finally, her favorite phrase of all...delivered with a sneaky, naughty look:

"I wanna see it. Show me his belly button!"

How popular is your birthday?

The NY Times story To-Do List: Wrap Gifts. Have Baby. is particularly topical given that Z's daycare provider will be induced on Friday. She's due next week, but her doctor doesn't want her giving birth on Christmas, when fewer doctors and staff will be around. I thought it was interesting that births spike around (but not on) major holidays and that a statistically significant proportion of babies arrive before the New Year, particularly among those upper income parents who best stand to benefit from an income tax break baby.

There's also a sidebar where you can see how your birthday and your children's birthdays stack up in terms of popularity. Lots of June, July and (most strikingly) September babies. I guess the cold weather and holiday merry-making put couples in a family way.

Here's why quotes don't work

I saw what I think was a Honda Element branded with Supermaid Cleaning Service today. The slogan on the side read "A more 'personal' kind of house cleaning." Now, maybe my mind's in the gutter, but when I see a word like "personal" called out in quotes, I start wondering if perhaps the Supermaid employees clean in the nude.

Judging from their website, I don't think the emphasis on personal was intentional.

SNL's Christmas Box

I know, I'm the last person on Earth to see this video. But the combination of JT and actual humor on SNL made my day.

Yummy Mummy?

If there was ever a trend I felt ambivalent about, it's this one. Chick lit gets married, knocked up and turns into Bugaboo-pushing Mom lit. I can see it now, pink book jackets with stilettos and strollers, Prada and pacifiers.

Yeah, I'm the basically the target (if a little younger and poorer than the late-30s lawyer-turned-SAHM with a preschool admissions complex), but I find something so icky about a bunch of publishers chasing a trend and a bunch of author-mommies cranking out cliched manuscripts while their beloved babies nap.

But here's where my ambivalence crops up again. Women have written about motherhood for generations. I loved Toni Morrison's Beloved and I click over to Dooce.com daily. Motherhood is a shared experience and rich territory for writing. What I don't like is the entitled, spoiled-brat tone Mom lit owes to its chick lit predecessor.

Happy Chanukah!

We hosted our Chavurah Chanukah party yesterday in the Temple youth lounge (read: basement). It was perfect for the event since the kids had lots of room to run around and plenty of communal toys to play with. And there was a kitchen, so we could keep the piles and piles of latkes warm.

We're lucky to have found such a great group of people within our congregation. And Z's perfectly positioned among the kids. There are four children older than her, one the same age, and five younger (including two 6 month old boys born on the same day!).

The Office

The best part of last night's hour-long episode of The Office (titled "A Benihana Christmas")? When tool Andy orders a "Nagasaki" at Benihana...an eggnog and saki cocktail. I almost wet myself.

My baby's not alone

"More Americans were born in 2004 than in any years except 1960 and 1990." This fact and many more are summarized in this NY Times article on the Census Bureau's 2007 Statistical Abstract of the United States.

Angel baby returns

Z put up 10 minutes of fuss before retiring last night, but she slept solidly from 7:45pm to 6:00am. And she didn't wake me and Josh up until 6:20, opting to play with her aquarium (which, by the way, she has loved since she was 2 months old). When she finally shouted "Ma-Ma!" it was because, "I went poopy in my diaper. Poopy and pee-pee."

Hallelujah!

I deserve a sleep refund

Last night was one of those nights. You know, one of those nights you think you're done with when your kid turns 6 or 7 months old and you've read Dr. Weissbluth cover to cover and done the sleep training thing and--by G-d--it worked?!?

Yeah? Well, last night our angelic 25 month old channeled her inner 2 month old, waking up every hour or so. Only, instead of whimpering for boobie, she would call out--in clear, increasingly loud tones, "Mommy! Ma-Ma! Ma-Maaaaaaaa! I wanna cuddle in the chair with Ma-Ma! I wanna cuddle in the dark! Da-Da! Daddymommy! Mommmmmeeeeeee!"

Overcome with exhaustion by 4:30am, I gave in and brought her to our bed, first eliciting a promise that she would "sleep quietly with no talking." A promise so quickly broken. I was poked and prodded. My hair was pulled and twisted. My pillow was stolen and returned damp with drool.

And then the cat went apeshit, tearing around the bedroom like there was a bonafide mouse in the house (which there wasn't). And so went any lingering hopes of getting Z to sleep. Josh was an angel, though. He took Z downstairs for some early morning PBS Kids so that I could sleep from 5:30 to 6:20.

Lucky Adriana. I'm sure Z will be a real treat at day care this morning.

Babble delivers

I'm happy to report that the new web journal for parents Babble is as good as I'd hoped. It's intelligently written, insightful and frequently funny. And it's really content-heavy; there's a ton to read. For starters, check out their essay on The Breastfeeding Conspiracy. It's a balanced piece by a mom who, like me, breastfed for a year, but still understands that the Boob Nazis from La Leche League need to be taken to task for guilt-tripping women for whom breastfeeding is impossible, physically or emotionally.

Babble's Health & Development section summarizes all of the experts on every imaginable topic, including hot button topics like cloth vs. disposable diapers, tummy vs. back sleeping and natural vs. epidural childbirth, and cleverly charts on a continuum from one extreme to the other.

For my sisters

At the risk of turning this blog into the all-cheese-all-the-time diary, I have to mention that my sister Eleanor and sister-in-law Bethany share my love for a good bowl of macaroni and cheese . And with Eleanor in Australia and Bethany in England, I'm afraid their access to Annie's Homegrown Shells & Cheese (not to mention my homemade stuff) is severely limited. So for them, I present the UK's foremost macaroni and cheese review blog.

Babble is one day away

I've got high hopes for Babble, a new online magazine for parents that launches tomorrow. It's from the people behind Nerve, the sex and culture magazine that arrived to much hoopla a few years ago. Anyway, I guess all that sex talk did the trick, because now all the Nerve editors are blessed with babies. Anyway, they're promising an antidote to the all-pastel, moms-only, too-serious word of parenting pubs.

More cheese, please

Years and years ago, when I was a vegetarian, I would hear from pro-vegan/vegetarian sources that adult humans weren't meant to drink milk. I've always had a weak spot for cheese and dairy products in general, so this kind of convention wisdom made me feel guilty for diverting some poor calf's sole form of nourishment into cottage cheese, yogurt and brie.

But now I don't have so guilty. The NY Times has an interesting article on how four different human groups independently evolved the ability to digest milk. Swedes and the Dutch are uniformly lactose tolerant, but the new news is the discovery of pastoral groups in Africa who also developed lactose tolerance.

"Genetic evidence shows that the mutations conferred an enormous selective advantage on their owners, enabling them to leave almost 10 times as many descendants as people without them...The survival advantage was so powerful perhaps because those with the mutations not only gained extra energy from lactose but also, in drought conditions, would have benefited from the water in milk."

Happy 59th Birthday, Mom

We knew Rick was showing you a good time in Gettysburg, so we helped celebrate Ania's 3rd birthday here in Oak Park. Click here to see a few photos from the party.