Cribbed

Our new baby is a little crazy.  By this I mean that she is not at all like her older brother: not very cuddly, not very mellow, and very high energy.  This is not a problem exactly, but it has led us to a weird problem I don't know how to solve.  Every night we put her down in her crib (around 715pm, a complete victory, thanks very much), and she goes to sleep pretty easily.  But... she thrashes around constantly, and wakes herself up a couple times a night by getting her legs caught in the crib slats.  When this happens she shrieks like she's a missionary being prepared for the pot, and we run in to save her from the hungry cannibals.  Sometimes this is not so easy, as little crazy has inherited her parents' thighs, and she wedges these chunky members pretty tightly between the slats.  So what do we do?  We removed the crib bumper when she started to move around, because she once stuck her head between the crib wall and the bumper.  I can't think of what else I can do to protect her legs and feet from the slats without endangering her with something she'll pull off and stick into her mouth.  Do I set up a hammock and ditch the crib?  That sounds like a recipe for disaster when she figures out how to roll out of it.  Do we ditch the crib and put her on the floor?  Buy a dog crate?  

Clearly, I have not one single practical idea.  Do you?

Dwelling

To dwell, or not to dwell, that is the question.  Some advocate not dwelling, on the theory that dwelling doesn't fix anything, and one should just soldier on.  Some can't help but dwell.  And then there is I, who is both a dweller, and amused by how dwell has ceased to have any meaning now that I've repeated it 7 times.  Let's review the list of items that has inspired this less than elevated soliloquy:

1. Child gets hit in face by wooden bat.  Shrieks, tears and dismay ensue.  Septum turns out not to be deviated.

2. Having no money to take a family vacation during kid's spring break, kid stays home with the nanny and baby sister. In boredom, kid plays with lock on garage door, eventually leaving it locked so that catastrophic buckling ensues when Dad attempts to open garage door with auto-opener.  Garage door must be replaced.

3. Luxury yacht market hits the skids, causing much unhilarity.

4. Leave work two hours early to take kid to appointment on Friday.  Amazing awful traffic causes lateness not just for appt, but for school pickup ($20 fee, yowza).  

4b. Driving from doctor's office to cub scout meeting, get hit by random kid driving a suburban.  Small fender bender with no injuries, but sneaking suspicion erupts that my own personal dark cloud is following me around.

5.  Cooking uninspired dinner on Sunday night, rice steamer short circuits and sends out flame.  Lucky me, didn't start rice before leaving house to run errands, so we were home for the incident and could unplug flaming machine.

6.  Lovely son was eager to go to kungfu and show off his new yellow belt, and jumped out of car so he could run into class.  Sadly, he slammed his hand in the car door.  Needless to say, no kungfu class today.

I have two theories and 1 attempt to not dwell:

1. Bad luck is dogging my family, and little stupid things keep happening.

2. Good luck is protecting my family, and incidents that could be terrible pass with minor irritation.

2b. I don't really believe in luck, and all this is coicidence... but I am a little superstitious and don't want to tempt Providence so will let the two theories stand.

I don't know which of these it is.  I also am thinking that the child-related incidents should be separated from the rest.  Bat to the face, smashed fingers, garage door catastrophe- these are all connected to curious little boy exploring the world and being careless with his safety.

But I really think it is item #3 that is fueling the dwelling and brooding on every little thing.  I'm trying to turn my frown upside down, turn that dwell into a swell, but it an exhausting effort.  Blech.

Good Drinks

When I was pregnant last year, I bored my friends to tears complaining about the lack of mocktails in this town.  I enjoy going out, I don't care for soda that much, the tap water in Annapolis tastes and smells like an armpit that's been sprayed with chlorine and sulfur, and iced tea has caffeine, which I didn't want to drink too much of.  For all of these reasons, I would frequently ask bartenders for non-alcoholic cocktails, with the caveat that neither daiquiris, coladas, nor tomato juice were acceptable.  At least 4 out of 5 times, they would have nothing to offer.  I suspect this is because most bartenders around here are the equivalent of short-order cooks.  They know how to make popular drinks in a semi-competent fashion, and aspire to nothing more.  They do not savor fine rye whiskey, they don't wonder if anything can be done with Frangelico, and they have no clue that the original James Bond martini, the Vesper, had both gin and vodka (and Lillet Blanc.  Lovely, spicy Lillet).  Out of the remaining 20% of bartenders, the ones who might honestly (and pretentiously) call themselves mixologists, probably half were not interested in making something for me.  It's hard to blame them: mixing non-alcoholic drinks is like cooking without meat.  You can do it, but it's hard to do it well off the cuff.  

After this experience, I determined to write a book of nonalchoholic cocktail recipes.  I thought it would have appeal to a wide audience of non-drinkers: pregnant women, sober alcoholics and medicated people.  I'm semi-happy to say that yesterday I found that I have been beaten to the presses, and at least two such books already exist.  Read all about them.  This article in the WaPost considers mocktails as drinks for kids, which I had never thought of.  That in itself is a little strange, because we've had a neigborhood tradition of "special water" for some years.  This started as a special treat for the kids during adult happy hour, and we would get different flavors of seltzer for them.  Since soda is a restricted substance in some of our houses, the kids were deliriously excited about the stuff.  Anyway, Hunter is quite excited by the idea of something new, and we have set Friday as the date for our first making of mocktails.  We're going to try the Dark Invader, and he's going to help "cook."  I'm quite looking forward to it, because I think we've explored every permutation of fruit juice and seltzer, and he was getting a little bored.  This should perk things right up.  Once he goes to bed, I'll work on variations of the theme, either with rum or vodka.  I don't usually drink rum, but pineapple juice almost demands it, don't you think?  The challenge will be getting the husband to try a sip and render judgement.  I married a wild drinker with a sailing problem, but he doesn't really drink anymore.  He's as sober as a responsible father of two with a job and a station wagon.  For example.

House Proofing

The baby's getting older and is almost mobile, so we've started to think of safety-proofing the house again.  We kind of remember what to do: cabinet doors, electrical outlets, etc.  I don't think though, that any person or book told me about the garage door.  Neither did anyone mention that kid-proofing is an ongoing process and should get attention even when a kid is older, like 8.

Just a note to my friends with young children: if you have an automatic garage door opener, please disable the manual lock on the door.  If you do not disable the lock, your child might entertain himself by playing with it, doubtless on one of those days when he's been tossed outside and told not to come back for a while.  Then when you come home and click the doohickey in your car, already anticipating going inside and shedding your crummy work day at the door, you'll have the pleasure of watching the garage door buckle as the opener attempts to lift it against the latch.  Then you'll wonder what the hell happened and if a truck or something might have hit your house to knock the door off track.  Then you'll discover in casual conversation with your kid that he found out the handle on the garage door turns with a great thunking sound.  Finally, you'll discover that the cheapest installation of the cheapest door will cost around $1000.  That might not be fun.  For instance.  Just saying, don't let this outlandish example be you.

As I think of more examples of safety-proofing against the older child, I'll be sure to share them.