Never judge a mother by her search history…
So much about me has changed since I became a mother. I am now responsible for keeping another human being alive.
I am now responsible for keeping another human being alive.
Let’s unpack that statement a bit: Another person is depending on my dubious abilities to feed, (mostly) clothe, and occasionally bathe him. That little person wakes me up in the middle of the night, expecting a response other than me shutting him in the laundry room (as I’m wont to do with our sometimes noisy dogs). I get up with this child, change his appalling diapers, allow my (much abused) breasts to perform essentially the same function as a Holstein, then gently rock him back to sleep and creep quietly from his room like a breastmilk-soaked ninja.
In response to all of this new pressure, so many things are different. My wardrobe has changed (all things stretchy), my go-to hairstyle has changed (hello, ponytail every. single. day.), my dedication to wearing makeup and brushing my teeth on a consistent basis has changed (understatement of the year).
However, one change overshadows all the rest: my Google search history. Continue reading “Motherhood: Google It”
Toddlers and iPads and showers, oh my!
One of the marvels about young toddlers is that they can’t speak intelligibly or recognize when they’re pooping on themselves, but they can operate an advanced piece of technology with more ease than most adults.
My son regularly purchases shows, installs apps, changes settings, and generally wreaks such havoc with our electronics that we’re considering going off the grid just to keep ourselves safe from him. I’ve seen him bypass the lock screen on my iPhone so many times, it has ceased to surprise me. A few days ago, my husband was shocked when his tablet started loudly narrating everything he was doing, thanks to some feature that Ben had thoughtfully activated while he was at work. I picked up the baby monitor yesterday to see a cheerful Spanish greeting staring back at me, and no, we aren’t bilingual, in case you were wondering. It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to fix that one, considering the number of Spanish classes I took in school.
To make matters worse, we recently decided to repurpose my husband’s old iPad for him (for the purpose of entertaining him on a long flight and to further encourage his chaos-creating tech skills). Y’all, this thing is so old, we can’t even download Netflix because the software is too out of date. It can handle simple toddler-themed apps, however, so we downloaded some puzzles, flashcards, alphabet and animal games, etc. (you know, the kind where you don’t feel like you’re TOTALLY rotting your child’s tiny brain). I took off anything with financial info or purchasing ability then sorted all the non-baby stuff into its own separate folder. Finally, I turned on Airplane mode, because I basically treat him like a black hat hacker on probation; no internet access, no problem.
You can’t uninstall the camera. Continue reading “Misadventures in Toddler Tech Use”
All the feelings that come after finding lice on your kids’ heads.
by Marcia Kester Doyle
There are few things in this world that send a shiver down a parent’s spine more than the dreaded words, “Your child has head lice.” You never think it will happen to your children since you keep a clean home and even cleaner kids. Lice only happen to people who don’t bathe regularly, right?
Wrong. No one is immune to these infectious parasites. They live on the human scalp and feed on blood to survive. The female lice lay 8-10 eggs daily, which mature in less than two weeks and have the capability of living up to 30 days on the scalp. I learned the hard way that not only do lice travel at the speed of light through an elementary school classroom, they can also invade the cleanest heads and have the agility of an Olympic pole vaulter.
My experience with head lice can be summed up in five phases similar to Kubler-Ross’ five stages of grief: Denial and anger, followed by bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Continue reading “The 5 Stages of Head Lice: From Denial to Depression”
Wondering how to convince your toddler to eat his peas? Check out our handy Toddler Marketing course!
Class, welcome to Toddler Marketing 101. I’m so glad you’ve elected to take this course, and I can say with some confidence that you will find the information we will cover this semester invaluable within the next 10 to 15 years. In fact, I would go so far as to recommend you hold onto your notes. While other marketing positions require someone to actually hire you, Toddler Marketing only requires one night of unfettered passion to become a survival skill more valuable than making fire.
As I’m sure most of you learned in fifth-grade science, the name of the Tyrannosaurus Rex is derived from the Greek words meaning “tyrant” and “lizard” and the Latin word for “king.” While that was probably the same year you learned that Pluto was a planet, this information is actually still correct. Now, a lesser known piece of trivia is the origin of the word toddler. The name is from the Greek word meaning “tiny” and the Latin word meaning “tyrant,” and there has rarely been a more accurate name for anything that roams the earth. Personally, I’d rather meet a hungry T-Rex than a toddler on the warpath. Continue reading “Toddler Marketing 101”
Not sure if you should call your child’s doctor for that minor injury or illness? Me neither!
Recently, my 10-month old son dropped a metal mixing bowl on his finger, resulting in a subungual hematoma. That’s fancy speak for a bunch of blood pooling under his fingernail. He was understandably upset, but after several bottles of milk and some baby Tylenol, he finally settled down. My husband and I decided that no medical intervention was necessary (that’s fancy speak for “it’s after hours and I don’t think it’s worth calling the doctor, so let’s put him to bed and hope for the best”). He slept fine and seemed normal when he woke up, so I figured that was that. From my understanding, the only reason to treat a subungual hematoma is if the pressure under the nail becomes very painful, and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.
However, I had some lingering concerns about long-term damage to his nail since the bowl landed directly on his cuticle, so I found myself headed down the same path I always go down whenever my son has a minor medical concern. Here’s the general thought timeline: Continue reading “Should I call the doctor?”
Ever noticed the uncanny similarities between your toddler and your favorite feline?
I have two cats and one toddler (and a dog, but she’s the most easy-going creature in this house, including my husband and myself; as such, she is not the subject of this post). Recently, I’ve realized there are a startling number of similarities between the toddler and the cats.
I love my kid, and in general, I love my cats, but these similarities are not particularly endearing and not great selling points for anyone considering becoming a parent or adopting a cat. If you’re one of those people and don’t want to be discouraged, I suggest you stop reading here. If you’ve already got kids and/or cats, feel free to keep going; you’re probably just jaded enough to appreciate my observations. Continue reading “5 Things Toddlers & Cats Have in Common”
Just another day in baby land…
0600: Strange noises coming from baby’s room. Remain motionless and hope that husband gets out of bed first. Crack one eye to see that husband is actually in the shower (damn). Stumble, bleary-eyed, out of bed. Further investigation confirms suspicion that baby has indeed awoken. Instantly regret last night’s decision to watch “one more episode” of Game of Thrones and consequently staying up until midnight. Remember that I am not 20 years old anymore and vow to never repeat this mistake again. Attempt to not fall down the stairs while going to make a bottle.
0630: Baby falls back asleep after his bottle. Gently (oh so gently) lay him back down in crib and creep out of nursery like a ninja. Send fervent thanks up to all the gods while stumbling back to bed and grab a sock to drape over my eyes. Wonder for the hundredth morning in a row why the sun must be so infernally bright. Continue reading “Dispatches from the Baby Zone”