Keepin' Up with the Joneses

. . . takes a lot of extra storage space and a sociopathic disregard for your checking account balance. There is no shortage of items to acquire when you first find out that you are expecting. There are chains of warehouse sized stores out there to cater to your every whim, and plenty of awe-inspiring boutique stores, not to mention the shoppers-paradise known as the internet. And with all of that mind blowing merchandise comes an impressive array of blogs and critiques and lists and guidelines as to what you will need and more importantly, what you will want. But there are the basics: crib, stroller, carseat, highchair, rocking chair, feeding equipment (e.g. bottles or pump or whatever), and diapers. Everything else is lovely, but again, auxiliary. And having free reign to search and find and acquire all of these wonderful items is every pregnant woman's dream (and secret obsession - I swear this is how I wore out my trusty laptop, not with the hours I spent actually working on it).

Growing up in a yuppie, upper middle class city near a major metropolitan city imbued in me a certain set of morals and a certain level of taste which I'm not always proud to admit to having to others. But there it is - I like nice things. Let me qualify that though: I like nice things that are (1) functional, (2) practical, (3) aesthetically pleasing, and (4) adorable. Unfortunately, we have found in the course of our baby equipment buying experience (and registering for our wedding and furniture shopping and life in general) that all of those criteria have one trait in common: they are expensive. So it's probably no surprise, certainly none to anyone who knows me well, that we went for some of the most expensive items out there. Some I admit, were less practical than my justifications of their cost would like to suggest, while others are real lifesavers (well, at least timesavers, which is synonymous when you're a busy parent).

The fancy stroller (and less fancy, but just as desired back up stroller) that was supposed to last five years (see "Getting Baby from A to B") are both in storage. The Scandinavian, solid wood Svan brand high chair that blew away the competition and that I had to have has been taking up valuable kitchen floor space ever since we started eating at counter height and the chair was made for table height. The Baby Bjorn travel crib (which is really something, given it's five pound weight and the five second set-up) and the rolling carseat (to combine stroller and carseat into one neat package and to avoid disassembling our day-to-day fancy carseat from the car) are both real timesavers while traveling. But having a child who is not the world's best sleeper (to put it mildly) has kept our travels to a minimum. So both of those are also in storage.

That beautiful, organic crib set and blankets that I couldn't pass up? Well, turns out that (a) blankets are not safe for infants and (2) our baby turns sleeping into a decathalon, so keeping a blanket on would be laughable and (3) if you cosleep with your baby until she is 8 months old, the lowest crib setting that you have to use negates the ability to use the crib skirt and apparently (4) crib bumpers are also a safety hazard. Regardless, those monkey sheets are adorable and she loves to use the monkey blankets to tuck her baby dolls in to sleep.

Also, that must-have, new age, hippy baby hammock that helps lower SIDS and soothe colic and helps newborns sleep better? Not so great for a baby who prefers to sleep on her stomach (yes, she was placed on her back in her bed, but we swear she learned to roll over early expressly in order to sleep on her tummy). It worked great as a night time swing, but then, the mechanical swing that plugs in and requires no human effort worked just as well. Oh, and said mechanical swing was also the snazziest on the market - also used for a grand total of two months before our not-so-petite baby tried to crab walk and houdini herself out of it.

Other baby must-haves had greater staying power. The cosleeper lasted longer - mostly because it became a home for her stuffed animal collection and toy bin. The Inglesina portable high chair we bring with us to every restaurant, although she rarely stays strapped in for an entire meal. Her Britax Advocate carseat is a real monster in size, but works like a dream. And her Haiku diaper bag keeps me organized and curtails my over-packing tendencies with its modest size. And although this is not technically baby gear, we have become psychologically dependent upon our minivan. It is a member of the family (with a name and everything) and makes parenting really just that much easier. And on days when you are running solely on fumes, that makes a difference.

So after all of those hours of research and bargain hunting and installation, parenting has been stripped to the necessary minimum of accessories: carseat, diaper bag, portable high chair, minivan. And in all honesty, it's quite freeing and lovely to lighten up. So the Joneses can have their plethora of baby gear - we're going to the park!

If Women Ran the World . . .

We've been hearing about these "mommy wars" for sometime. The battle lines are drawn many different ways: stay-at-home moms versus working moms versus hybrid moms (who apparently run on electricity alone rather than coffee? :); "traditional" moms versus hippy-liberal-cloth-diapering moms; trendy moms versus super-couponing moms; and so forth and so on. Now, I'm not suggesting that dads do not also have their allegiances and alliances and there are just as many categories dividing up the spectrum of modern-would-breastfeed-if-he-could-dad to the deadbeat-sperm-donor-dad, but having only ever been a mom, I'll try to stick with what I know (at least other moms will just lambaste me with evil eyes and critical comments - dads may very well come out of their minivans at me with baseball bats and dusty beer bongs).

This is a difficult country for a mom. We were raised in the post-feminist world in an academic environment that encouraged autonomy and ambition for girls equal, or greater, than boys. But we were also raised with the expectation of the whole package - job, husband, baby, house, car, pets, hobbies, etc. Unfortunately, as any woman who has tried to attain this "work-life" balance will tell you, the day is about 18 hours too short to make all of that possible. And there are major stresses for all types of moms today: the working mom goes off every day with a significant guilty chip worried about losing her job and worried about losing her child's affections; the stay-at-home mom worries about family finances and the burden of juggling multiple responsibilities at alleviate the tasks for their working spouses; the hybrid moms get both the benefits and burdens of both types of moms; and the single moms have stresses both unique and common to all of the other types of moms. Each case is different, every mom unique, and yet the struggle to have it all, to be it all, remains universal.

Part of the problem remains that we have "evolved" into a different society and community over the last century and with it comes a subtle, subconscious break down of the family. In the past, households were intergenerational. Grandparents would help to raise grandchildren while the parents were off to work. Even in households where multiple generations did not coexist, most families remained local to the regions where they were born and raised. This meant a large support network of grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. It indeed used to take a village to raise the next generation of children . . . today, apparently it takes abundant coffee and a calendar that would make airport transit schedules look simple and a well-stocked minivan. Oh, and a healthy nest egg wouldn't hurt . . .

We live in times where a single, high-income family or a double middle-income family household will still struggle for the assets that supported the lifestyles of our grandparents or even our parents. The ability to buy a house and two cars and put your 2-4 children through college is difficult for many middle-class families and will become increasingly more difficult over time. The current estimates suggest that a child born in 2010 will require at least $125,000 at birth, invested over 18 years, or $1,300 per month, every year over 18 years, to afford the $600,000 college bill that will be required for four years of private or out-of-state education. These numbers assume unregulated tuition hikes that are consistent to current trends without increased rates of inflation.

Recent articles have suggested that women now make up a greater proportion of the population, not just in the general community, but in college and post-college education. However, the numbers continue to be grim for comparisons of salary and rank within companies and professions. Of all of the many causes that have been examined, one of the more disturbing remains the "mommy-track." Among the industrialized nations, the USA falls last with regards to maternity leave (and in fact, shares rankings with such illustrious countries as Swaziland, Lesotho, and Botswana. Maternity leave in the USA is unpaid, and may be up to 12 weeks, but only for employees of middle to large corporations. Small corporations and businesses with less than 50 employees are not obligated to follow these guidelines.

What does it say about a country to places so little investment in the future of its children? Many double-income households are double-income due to economic necessity. However, even after the maternity leave period, child care is rarely provided or subsidized by companies, and not at all by governments, state or federal. The average median female income barely pays for the cost of daycare for one child, let alone multiple children. Is it any surprise then that there exists a "brain drain" of female talent among many industries at the age where women should be most valued. The career of the thirty-something woman is a pivotal point. She has completed her education for the most part and early training opportunities. This is the decade where she can begin to produce real products and establish her trajectory for the rest of her career. What do we say as an industrialized nation when we present her with the unenviable position of choosing between a long sabbatical from her career or the guilt-ridden hours at a job where the take-home salary just covers childcare?

These are difficult times . . . maybe it would be nice to reach across the aisles of the "mommy wars" and address some of these common concerns and worry less about the cloth vs disposable battle or the formula vs breastfeeding debate or the numerous "sleep training" methodologies out there. It should not be the American Dream to be able to afford to house, clothe, and educate your child. Perhaps it is naive, but it would be nice if this was the inalienable right of all children living in the wealthiest nation on Earth: a place to learn, a doctor to keep you well, healthy foods to help you grow, and a place to call home.

Brain Rot

We had the best of intentions when we set about having a baby and planning how to raise said baby. One of those absolutes was "we're not going to have a couch-potato-baby who watches television nonstop." Well, we made it six months before breaking that particular ideal. It was a subtle, gentle slide into temptation . . .

At first, we told ourselves that it was educational. We were one of those families that shelled out the big bucks for the entire "Your Baby Can Read" series of DVDs and books. This may have been helped by lack of sleep and those last few remaining brain cells being susceptible to power of suggestion from successful telemarketing approaches, but we're pretty sure deep down we just wanted to impress our friends who are also parents with a 11-month old whiz who could order her own kid's meal off the menu. So we sent away for the set and promptly began showing Charlotte the 30-minute videos.

Next up was the DVD player in the car. Yes, you may very well question why we bought the new car with a DVD system in it post-baby if we were intending on a tv-abstinent childhood. There was definitely some subliminal programming going on at the car dealership - somehow the minivan just seemed not quite complete without the DVD system. But I digress . . . so next, it was "Your Baby Can Read" in the car. And I have to say, for all of the naysayers out there, I much prefer the sound of a baby chuckling and repeating words back to the DVD system than the previous environment of screaming, crying, wriggling and writhing, and launching of toys and sippy cups at my head while driving. Sure, tv may rot the brain, but I can attest to hard objects hitting my head being pretty harmful to MY brain.

And then, it was Veggie Tales, which were a baby shower gift, and then Classical Baby on recommendation from a friend, and finally . . . Sesame Street. Now, if "Your Baby Can Read" is like juice, then Veggies Tales was like coffee, Classical Baby equivalent to a good martini, and I swear, Elmo and friends are just pure crack cocaine to our child. It started innocently enough at home - she enjoyed them in the car, maybe she would like to watch a video now and then on the flat screen at home so that we could accomplish minor tasks like cook or clean or get a drink of water or use the restroom, you know, the luxuries of parenthood. Innocent enough, we thought.

But then one weekend we all had the same cold, and the lingering side effect of allowing your toddler to watch non-stop Sesame Street so that you can lay on the sofa and wish you were dead . . . is that now your toddler runs for that tv every day demanding "Elmo! Elmo! ELMO!!!" and you sit on the sofa watching endless Sesame street episodes, wishing you were dead. Upside of her learning to talk is that you can finally get real feed back, "honey, which Elmo do you want to watch," followed by "Doctor Elmo!" and instantly, you have your answer and peace reigns once again. The downside of someone who is just learning to talk without the years of decision-making skills behind her language development is that (1) she sometimes forgets words she knows and strings together sounds while looking at you hopefully, then with frustration, and then pure annoyance and rage; and (2) she's apt to change her mind, within seconds of preferred program being started, to another program that is almost identical, and then change it back again.

Now, if we were better parents, or at least more stalwart and far more deaf, we would figure out a way to turn off that darn tv once and for all and sit down to spend some quality time with our child and maybe teach her some really useful life skills like how to count or the alphabet or how to make mommy a really strong espresso. On the other hand, Sesame Street is doing a pretty good job at the first two, and that nifty DVD player in the car allows mommy to do the third at her friendly, neighborhood crack house (e.g. Starbucks) just fine. So for now, this blog was brought to you by a desperate and sheepish mom and the letter F and the number 10.