Breaking Down Gender Boundaries One Toy at a Time

We went to the Wee Cycle Children's Consignment Sale in Boone last weekend. It was a good one, it always is. We managed to avoid buying a bunch of stuff we don't need, which was great, and got some really cool stuff we did need, which is even better!

One thing we got, for the bargain price of $5, was a vehicle toy that Monkey can sit and on propel himself with his legs on either side, or he can stand behind and push it while he walks. He is in that phase of LOVING the push toys, and will soon figure out that he loves the sit-and-ride toys, so we snatched it up. It makes sounds and plays songs, and it was in very good shape. Jackpot!!

But here's the funny thing I didn't notice until we got it home and had it for a few days...this toy is not only totally unsure of what kind of vehicle it is (its sound effects/buttons are related to race car, fire truck, police car, antique car, and circus car), but it has all these "boy" buttons for things like fire engine sirens and revving engine noises, and then the 'windows' of the vehicle have a bunch of cartoon girls doing things like applying lipstick and brushing their hair. See below...

From a distance, looks pretty normal.

Odd hodge-podge of buttons...

And we have little girls and cute pets driving...?

Is the duck helping her comb her hair? Are they in love? Why is the vase of flowers in the car?

I think it's really great that this toy breaks down gender boundaries, and squashes the stereotype that girls won't like fire truck noises or boys won't comb their hair...but it still leaves me with a lot of questions...

A whole week with no kisses...

I got a cold sore. Ugh, they are the bane of my existence. They feel tender, then they swell and they feel awkward and tender. Then they burst and they sting like crazy for days and days, and it hurts to brush my teeth or eat a sandwich or sing an aria. Ok, well I don't do much of the singing thing anyway, but what if I wanted to?! It would hurt... Not to mention the fact that I look like a freak with this giant fleshy wound on my face. I look like I have cooties, which I do. And it sucks.

But that's not even the worst of it.

The worst part, the absolute evilest part, is that I can't give O any kisses. Yeah, just try and imagine THAT for a second. I probably kiss him a hundred times a day. I give him smooches on his chubby cheeks when he wakes up from naps. I blow raspberries on his tummy when we play on the floor. I kiss the back of his neck when I put him in the bathtub. I kiss the top of his head when he eats his snack or drinks his juice in my lap. I give a little mommy peck on his ouchies when he bang his fingers or smooshes his foot. I am forever giving him kisses! He loves it, I love it, it's great.

Well now I can't. God forbid I give my son cold sore herpes! Double trouble horrible if he managed to get it on his pee winkie!!! Jesus, I would never forgive myself. So I can't kiss him for fear he'll rub he kissed spot and then his eye or his mouth or other, more sensitive parts! And he is always trying to stick his fingers in my mouth, so none of that, either. (I didn't really enjoy that anyway...his tiny fingernails always slice my gums. Youch.)

It's awful, and I hate it. I want my smoochie baby back, damnit!

Oh yeah, and I also can't kiss Aron :( What did I do to deserve this?!? {sigh}

Another Trip to the ER with Aunt Alice

My little Monkey spiked a 103 degree fever today, so while Auntie Alice was visiting us for a fun filled day of sushi lunch and play time, we swooped into the Palmetto Baptist ER for a few hours of relaxation and entertainment.

Or....not so much.

Owen was in a good mood when we got there. You wouldn't have had a clue he was on fire. He waddled around the lobby, and the exam room. He played with the little baby pulse/ox lead they strapped to his toe. He flirted with the admitting nurse. He tried to turn over the trash can. All was well...

until...

the doctor came in. He was a nice doctor, very friendly, and he had a good baby bedside manner. Lots of cooing and smiling. But as soon as he put that otoscope in little pooper's ears, O screamed himself into a bright shade of purple and threw up on me. Then he asked to do a chest x-ray to make totally sure nothing was going on in his tiny lungs, and during the x-ray he was hysterical and inconsolable. He cried so hard he had big crocodile tears and a steady stream of tear-snot running down his face. So pitiful. Things got even worse when the ER nurse came in and tried to give him some Tylenol. Oh jeez. Oooooh jeez. It was less than fun.

I finally took Alice out in the hall and Daddy snuggled Owen with the lights off until he fell asleep, and we waited for the x-ray results in gender-segregated peace. It was actually pretty damn cute peeking in there and Monkey was sprawled on Aron's chest, his little diaper butt sticking up in the air and his chin on Aron's neck, drooling on his chest on the hospital bed. So adorable.

The chest x-ray showed what could possibly be early pneumonia, which is scary and uncool, so they're giving us antibiotics. It will be his first ever round of them, and while I wish we could have put them off for much longer, I think it's better safe than sorry when it comes to things like pneumonia.

Now the struggle is figuring out how to give him the medicine without it sounding like a torture chamber in my living room. So far the first dose did not go well. I tried to hide it in juice but he figured that out in two sips. We ended up pinning him down and squirting it in his mouth as a last resort and he cried so hard he puked on me again.

I am sensing a trend here...

Problem Solved...and Without Spending $35

I have been looking on Amazon for a good, high rated travel bottle warmer. We take lots of road trips, and it's so hard to deal with the little man's liquid needs. We either have to stop at a gas station and get some warm water that is approximately the right temperature (usually by mixing careful amounts of boiling coffee pot dispensed water and freezing soda fountain dispensed water), or we have to take the bottle warmer, which has water in it and gets spilled. So after another round of looking at them, reading the customer reviews, and being dissatisfied with the options, I found one that was rated really high. I read the product description for this 5 star $35 item. Know what it is?

A coffee thermos with a new use.

They tell you to put warm water in this "sterile flask" and it will stay warm for hours, so you just mix your formula with it while in the car, and viola! Presto! Happy baby bottle.

Well shit.

I a.) should have thought of that a year ago and b.) don't need to spend $35 on a coffee thermos when I can get one out of the cabinet and use it!

Problem solved.

One Mommy's Trash is Another Baby's Treasure

My Monkey is finicky. He won't eat foods that are warm, he only liked Garden Tomato flavored puffy snacks, he prefers warm baths to cool ones, he will only let Mommy wipe his snotty nose, and he likes to be rained on but doesn't enjoy a shower. He has some particular preferences.

So I find it very amusing when his favorite toys are an empty milk jug, a box from Amazon.com, a paper towel roll, and a plastic ramekin you get take-out mayo in (obviously this one has no mayo).

I like that he can amuse himself with things that don't beep, play stupid songs or have dangling shiny parts. I like that all of his playthings don't have to have batteries, or even cost anything. I think it's a sign of genius if a baby plays with trash. (I read that somewhere.)

So I guess I can keep giving him my trash for now. It's nice that it keeps it out of landfills for the time being.

NOW you want a pacifier?!? Really?

O has NEVER wanted a pacifier. We tried to give him one a few times when he was itty bitty and he rejected it about as quickly and with about the same vehemence as he rejected pureed green beans. I am pretty sure he thought we were trying to kill him, he was so displeased.

That was then. This is now.

He was reintroduced to a pacifier last week, immediately latched on (pun intended) to it, and has been faithfully attached to it ever since. He doesn't keep it in all the time, but every so often he plucks it from where it hangs and pops it in. He likes to go to sleep with it. He likes it in the car, and other boring times when Mommy and Daddy are not able to entertain him. And it is radically shifting his mood...

He had, I hate to say, become kind of a whiney baby. Lots of whimper/whine/grunt communication, all of which sounded like negative emotions being expressed, not positive ones, had come out of him in the last few months, and especially since he weaned himself in July. I am starting to think it was, at least to some degree, because he wanted something to suck on, he just didn't want to keep nursing.

Well sweetums, problem solved!

Water Baby

Owen officially loves the water. He loves the ocean, especially when Daddy splashes his back against oncoming waves. He loves the pool, both in the giant yellow floaty thing and cruising around in my arms. He loves the bath tub (but only when I let him stand up and plop down...hmm...). He loves standing under and playing in a shower stream. He loves puddles for stomping, sitting in, and slapping. He loves it all.

This is good, right?

Well, yes. It's good. It's great. My grandfather was a champion swimmer. My mom was a river rat. I grew up at the local pool/pond/river/yard sprinkler. Water is fun and fun is good.

Except now I keep having dreams that he drowns.

(sigh)

Is being a mother always this complicated?