Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts

Saturday, May 29, 2010

I was determined to give Harry a very special cake for his second birthday, and since his favorite movie for the majority of the last year was The Beatles' Yellow Submarine, I knew what I had to do. I also knew that actually decorating a cake with icing was not my area of expertise, so I decided to make a yellow submarine cookie to place atop a store-bought cake.

And now, to make a long story short. . .

Make a cookie two weeks ahead of time. Wrap carefully in waxed paper, place in zippered freezer bag, and store carefully in freezer. Now you're ahead of the game!
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Remove from freezer the afternoon before the party. Oh, $#^!, right?

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Convince 2-year-old that it would be really fun to make cookies with you. With extra dough, go that extra step and make your own Beatles.

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Place strategically on store-bought cake.

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Demand that your 2-year-old identify each Beatle for guests.

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Fin.
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Saturday, May 02, 2009

Baby Hairy

Don't assume that the weak mohawk you style as a joke with the extra sunscreen will easily brush out of the baby's hair.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Trapped In My Office

I just reread my last post and thought, "When was I so positive? That's not like me at all!"

I'm feeling much more like my old negative self right now. Kevin has been sick for three weeks, Harry had a fever of 102 last night, and I can hardly swallow because now I'm coming down with their crud.

I've been typing like a madwoman all evening because I had a sick baby to take care of all day who would not take a nap anywhere but on my lap, and I just typed a report on a patient, a young mom with three kids: bless her.

I thought the doctor gave her some truly excellent advice: walk outside 15 minutes every evening while her husband watches the kids and cleans up after dinner. The doctor, who I am loving more and more, said something to the effect of, "She essentially cannot get away from her job. I think she needs to find herself again, and maybe this will allow her to begin to heal." Amen, Doctor.

Monday, December 01, 2008

"I Don't Make Monkeys, I Just Train 'Em"

First off, kudos if you recognize that quotation from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. Second, I don't actually train monkeys. What I do train, apparently, is Harry: I am the proud mother of a "trained night crier" and a "trained night feeder," according to the pediatrician.

Today was our 6-month visit. Harry weighed in at a healthy 17 pounds, 4 ounces and is 26.5 inches tall. This puts him on pace to be 5'6" or maybe even 5'7", which is more than my diminutive self and likewise Kevin could have ever dreamed, but that's projecting an infant's adult height based on a few measurements, so I'm not holding my breath that Harry will be able to get things off the tallest shelf for me in 15 years.

Anyways, back to training monkeys. I mean, babies. The pediatrician was sympathetic when I explained the sleep situation at our house. She promptly xeroxed and handed me three pages. As I read them after dinner, I found that I was guilty of the following:
  1. Nursing the baby until he is asleep.
  2. Feeding often during the day.
  3. Holding or rocking the baby until he is asleep.
Apparently any one of these is enough to train a baby to cry upon waking instead of soothing himself back to sleep. So what did I do? All three! The only one I'm not guilty of is putting Harry to bed with a bottle, but if we were using formula, I'd probably have that one on my rap sheet, too. Kevin and I are particularly fond of #3. It's been our standby for basically Harry's entire time here on Earth. And now we are so busted.

So, tonight we got serious. We started a bedtime routine tonight: lotion, pajamas, rocking with me and his blue puppy, and a story (okay, three) from Kevin before Harry was put in his crib awake. We checked on him every five minutes while he cried his little heart out, taking turns so he would know that Mama and Daddy were both still around. It took half an hour, but he's been asleep for almost 20 minutes now. I'm expecting a long night of broken sleep and no REM cycles, but the xeroxed advice proclaims that "if you try the following recommendations, your child's behavior will probably improve within 2 weeks."

Update in two weeks, Dear Reader. Wish me luck.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Why Aren't Undershirts More Popular?

I had a doctor's appointment today. I've seen this doctor once before and liked him a lot. He's friendly without being casual and talks in layman's terms, but not to the point where I question whether he knows the actual medical terms. He really seems to know his stuff, and he listens to and validates my concerns. Aside from wishing he wouldn't leave me in an exam room alone for 20 minutes (both times!) I have only one piece of advice:

Wear a freakin' undershirt! I don't require my physicians to dress up. Button-down shirt and silk tie not required, and I have nothing against a private practice doctor in scrubs. I do, however, object to seeing abundant chest hair trying to escape an unfortunately deep V-neck. Doctor, we are both too old for Teen Wolf, okay?

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

What I Learned On My Summer Vacation

Since Harry was born almost three (!) months ago, I've picked up a few tricks and thought I'd share them here, in case there are any other new mamas out there.

1. Nothing gets baby poop out like Shout Advanced spray. (Thanks, Kristi!)

2. Unlike poop, baby spit up is relatively easy to clean: normal laundry routine should suffice. This, of course, only applies to a breastfeeding infant, NOT a solid-food eating toddler. I do not as of yet have any clue what takes out green beans or sweet potatoes.

3. Baby clothes are expensive. Yeah, I know, they seem cheap when you look at the tag and it says $7.99, but realize that a baby will only wear something five to 10 times before growing out of it. My plan is to buy on the clearance rack, which sounds obvious. However, summer clothes go on sale towards the end of summer, so buying Harry shorts in size 3 months, (his current size), doesn't do me a lot of good since the warm weather is coming to an end soon. What I do is buy summer clothes in sizes 12 and 18 months, which is likely the size Harry will be next summer.

4. Be extra nice to friends who have children a year older than yours. I have THREE boxes of clothes in sizes 6 months all the way up to 3T, all from two friends with little boys who are both about two years older than Harry.

5. Buy large items at garage sales. Kevin and I went "shopping" for a high chair this spring before Harry was even born. You have to get out early to find baby stuff, because I'm definitely not the only one with this idea, but spending $20 instead of $80 makes it worthwhile.

6. If you're in the market for a new car once the baby arrives, I totally recommend the Kia Sportage. Kevin and I bought one Fourth of July weekend and love it. The trunk has tons of space: we fit a playpen, two suitcases, two canvas chairs, a ridiculously large stroller, and a fishing pole in with room to spare. The passenger seat folds down and has a hard plastic back, making it the best, most convenient place to change a diaper when away from home. We drove it to a family reunion out of state, so instead of schlepping Harry in his car seat into random McDonald's bathrooms and rest areas, many of which, unbelievably, don't have baby-changing tables, we changed him right where we parked.

See below for obligatory picture of Harry.