She Says… Flanabags Giveaway!

I feel very lucky to travel “the perfect amount” for work. Enough that I never feel trapped by my job or stuck behind a desk all the time, and not too much that it is a burden or I feel like I’m always leaving my family. Usually I’m heading to Chicago or New York, which are both easy to get to and two of my favorite cities to visit. About once a year I get to go to Europe, like last week’s trip to Paris. Combine that with the fact that I have to fly whenever I see my family, and once in awhile Benjamin, Owen and I go on a trip together, and that makes us pretty experienced flyers.

I’ve got the whole “laptop out of the bag, liquids in a ziploc, shoes off, boarding pass in hand” rigamarole down pat. When traveling alone, going through security is a breeze and doesn’t bother me at all. Going through with a baby or toddler, however, is a different story. Despite my best intentions and organization, I generally find myself throwing bags around, tossing things onto the conveyor belt, sweating from trying to hold the kid in one hand and fold up the stroller/carseat/whatever in the other hand and hopping around trying to get my shoes off all at the same time.

And then I found Flanabags, waterproof vinyl bags lined with cute fabrics and nice zippers. Unfortunately they can’t help fold up the stroller or hold the baby so I can take off my shoes, but they can help with the organization of liquids and toiletries and snacks and diapers and baby wipes that always seem to tumble out of my bag uncontrollably.

They come in a few different sizes, one of which (the AirQuart) is the perfect size for liquids going through airport security. The loop handle and smooth vinyl makes it easy to pull in and out of your bag in the security line. As someone often packing for and unpacking from one trip or another, that one is my favorite.

A close second favorite is the Quick Change Diaper Clutch, which is the perfect size and shape to hold up to 3 diapers, some wipes, a little butt cream, whatever you need for a quick diaper change on the go. The slim silhouette and wrist strap (like a wristlet/clutch) make it easy to have with you, even if you’re not traveling with your usual diaper bag. And, as a mother of a kid who gets carsick and has had some mayjuh diaper blowouts, I can tell you that the waterproof bag is AWESOME in case of an, err, emergency.

You can order the bags in a bunch of cute fabrics, which is also key when packing bags for the whole family. We have a different fabric for each family member (Owen has the green monkeys, shown above and I have a pink/turquoise/brown stripe), which makes it easy for me to find what I’m looking for quickly without opening all of the bags.

Linda Flanagan, creator of Flanabags and a friend of mine, has offered to give away an AirQuart or Quick Change Diaper Clutch to one lucky reader!

3 Possible Ways to Enter to Win:

1. Check out the Flanabags shop on Etsy and leave a comment here telling me which style/fabric you would like.

2. Tell other people about this giveaway! Tweet about it, put a link on Facebook, and/or blog about it. Leave me a comment letting me know each way you spread the word.

3. If you haven’t already, subscribe to This Place is Now a Home using the link on the right sidebar. Leave me a comment letting me know you did this, or if you already subscribe.

Entries will close at midnight on Sunday, April 1st and the winner will be announced Monday, April 2nd. Good luck!

She Says… J’Adore

Ahhh, the city of champagne. Err, I mean love. Though for me it was a bit more of the former.

My trip was lovely. The flights were on time and I thoroughly enjoyed flying solo. Both ways there was a toddler across the aisle from me (both of whom, thankfully, slept very soundly for almost the entire flight) which made me miss Owen a tiny bit, but mostly served as a reminder that traveling alone is waaaaaaaay easier than traveling with a wee one.

Luxembourg Gardens

Arc de Triomphe

Once in Paris I walked. I walked and walked and walked and took in the sights and sounds and smells and tastes (nutella crepes, anyone?). I opened my map, circled a spot and just… walked. Although traveling alone is a little anticlimactic (no one to share the loveliness with), it can be incredibly liberating and surprisingly calm. On the first day I arrived at 8:45am after getting about 1.5 hours of sleep on the plane (not taking a sleeping pill was a bad idea!) and I walked straight until my first work meeting at 4pm. Good thing I brought comfy shoes.

Place du Carrousel (in front of the Louvre)

The Louvre

And when I got hungry? I ate. Boy, did I eat. Everything tastes better in Paris. The bread, the cheese, the chocolate, the wine, the champagne. Oh yeah, and some of the vegetables too. But mostly the cheese.

Crepe in the Jardin des Tuileries

Eiffel Tower

I figured out the Metro, despite an embarrassing lack of knowledge of the French language. This accomplishment made me ridiculously more excited than I should have been. But hey, pretending to be a local is fun!

Approaching Sacre Coeur

Sacre Coeur

View from Sacre Coeur

I did my best to avoid the leering men. Seriously, some European men seem to have quite the radar for a young woman traveling alone. Some of my encounters were innocent enough (a young Frenchman who told me, while kissing my hand, “You must be from America — your smile is more beautiful than anyone in Paris!”), but some were downright creepy (the guy on the Metro who stood pressed up against me muttering in French and breathing down my neck).

Notre Dame

Pont Saint-Michel

I skyped with Benjamin and Owen every night before bed. I would be in my hotel room, warm and sleepy from the wine I had with dinner, or still enjoying my chocolate crepe from the walk home; they would be just getting home from daycare. The first time we chatted, Owen cried and reached for the screen like he was trying to hug me, whimpering, “Hold you, Mommy”. It just about broke my heart. But after that he realized that I was in the computer and by the last day he couldn’t have cared less that he was chatting with me. It was awesome, because it meant he was totally fine at home without me. Which he was.

Centre Pompidou

Street Crepes in the Latin Quarter

All in all a successful trip. J’adore Paris! Now to dig through the mountains of emails that amassed while I was away…

She Says… ‘Nuff Said

I’m leaving for Paris in less than 3 hours. (Yes, Paris! For work, which is not as cool as, you know, a vacation, but I’ll take it).

Owen was sent home from daycare this morning because he threw up. No other symptoms, but they are being cautious. And apparently the handbook says if a kid is sent home because they puked, they aren’t allowed to come back tomorrow either. So we have a super happy and healthy (as far as I can tell…) kid at home today making it very, very hard for me to get anything done.

I haven’t had time to shower. Or pack. Or review the Powerpoint presentation I am delivering later this week.

No time to blog. ‘Nuff said.

Please please please keep your fingers crossed that a) Owen’s puke was random and not illness-related (as a mother of a kid who had reflux and now gets motion sick, this is very, very likely), b) I get to my plane on time, and c) my heart doesn’t break from being away from Owen for the longest time yet.

She Says… New Rule

Last night I reached my limit of Owen’s screams of “No Daddy”. I just… couldn’t hear it anymore. And I didn’t even know how to react anymore. The behavior was making Benjamin sad, me angry and Owen throw tearful fits at something completely inevitable.

So I made a new rule. No more “No Daddy”ing.

Generally I’m all for putting emotions into words and Owen expressing himself and letting him dictate what he can during his day. But this Anti-Daddy campaign has gone on long enough. And now I fear that it is being used as a tool to get what he wants (me) ALL OF THE TIME.

I put my foot down.

Starting last night, no one in our house is allowed to say “No Daddy”. Last night after dinner I offered to do the dishes while Benjamin and Owen played upstairs together. Usually it’s the other way around, but I could tell that Benjamin needed some Owen time and Owen needed to see that he can’t just boss us around. And guess what… they had fun! Yes, Owen spent about half of the time whining for me, but when he realized I wasn’t coming every time he scrunched up his face and wailed, he settled.

Today is an all-Daddy day and I am at the office. This morning when Owen tried his first “No Daddy” I shut it down immediately, and from then on things seemed to be good. So maybe Owen just wanted to see how far he could push the Anti-Daddy Campaign before there were limits. Now that there are limits, I think we’re good.

Phew. Rough week. Let’s hope we’re back to normal starting tomorrow morning! We have a fun weekend planned starting with a breakfast date with Owen’s best buddies at school and an afternoon playground date with one of my mom group friends who I met when our babies were only 12 weeks old. I’ll tire the ‘tude out of Owen, if nothing else.

She Says… The Anti-Daddy Campaign

Have I told you yet that we’re going through a rough week? Yeah, we’re going through a rough week.

There are just SO. MANY. TEARS.

Over everything.

I’m beginning to hear a pretty convincing fake wail/cry in there too. The kid has quite a thespian streak in him. Gee, I don’t know WHERE he gets that! (Aka… from both parents). I know he’s not feeling good, but oh, the wailing. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. It cuts right through me. He has even been at daycare yesterday and today and still, my ears are ringing with the sound. Daycare is a blessing for us both, in so many ways.

It’s not all the time, though.

This morning when he woke up, I went in and rubbed his back for a few minutes while he woke up slowly. He sleepily rolled over and smiled and me and we chatted and I ran my fingers through his hair and he reached for me and buried his face in my shoulder while we opened the windows and talked about the cars going by and the statue in the neighbors garden. We read books. He’s already smart enough to pick the long ones when I say, “Ok, let’s read 2 books”.

The thing that set him off into whiny, sniffly, crocodile tear mode today was Daddy. The mere suggestion of him. I said, “Do you want to wake up Daddy?”. “Noooooooooo. ::Sniff, sniff, WAIL:: NO DADDY. Nooooooooo! NO DADDY!”. Ok, ok, I said, we’ll go downstairs and get some milk and feed the dog first.

When Daddy came downstairs to help us get Owen’s food packed for daycare, Owen screamed and cried and pushed him away. Last night, too, he didn’t even want Daddy in the room while we were getting ready for bed.

I’d be lying if I said this was the first time this has happened. Remember this post? Yeah. Generally the Anti-Daddy Campaign is on a very small scale. Owen chooses me to read him books instead of Daddy. He chooses my lap instead of Daddy’s. Not a big deal.

But today it reached a crescendo. A new high. Or low, depending on who you’re talking about.

Poor Daddy.

The funny thing is that Benjamin is home with Owen on Fridays while I go to the office. That’s a full day of uninterrupted Daddy time, and it’s never been a problem. When I am out of the house entirely, I think it goes away. But man, when I am there, it has become a battle of epic proportions.

As with everything else, I know this is a phase. This too shall pass. Hey, he could switch on us tomorrow and be anti-Mommy. Or maybe next week when I have to go away for 5 days (5 DAYS! TO PARIS!). Only time will tell.

In the meantime, I would like to give Daddy a bandaid for his heart. Because as of this morning, I think the Anti-Daddy Campaign is beginning to get to him.

She Says… Shake it Off

Whew, that little illness was a rough one. Somehow, my kid can be happy as a clam with pneumonia or on the verge of a 105 degree fever, but this particular “head cold plus molars” thing really got him down. Oh, the whining, crying, demands to be held. The pain he feels on the inside has been expressed via pinching, biting, smacking and violently throwing himself on the ground (hence, the biting incident, which, in retrospect, makes a lot more sense). I know the poor thing is not feeling great and I’m trying to be sympathetic and give him the snuggles he needs, but MAN, it is challenging when he’s being so emotionally volatile.

Shake it off, buddy. Shake it off. I’d like my sweet little go-with-the-flow guy back, please!

Owen’s daycare teachers have reported that he has been a bit “feistier” than normal at school, too. Pushing boundaries and reacting emotionally when little things upset him. I think we’re just going through a rough few days over here.

To be honest, I guess this is what other parents with more sensitive children go through all the time. I get it now. In general, I am spoiled by Owen’s good nature. I often think back to the part in “Happiest Baby on the Block” (my favorite parenting/baby book) where Dr. Karp describes temperament and how a baby’s future temperament is often evident even when they are newborns. When Owen was tiny, friends and family (and even complete strangers) would often comment on how “chill” he was. How smiley and social and laid back. How easy it was to make him laugh and how he seemed content to just “be”. (Believe me, as any of you will remember who were reading my blog back then, he wasn’t always perfect, but that was the general way about him when he wasn’t hungry, tired or screaming because of reflux and breastfeeding issues). He’s a textbook example of Karp’s “easy child”.

The Easy Child: About half of kids are easygoing — waking up on the “right side of the bed,” cheerful and ready for a new day, Karp says. They’re active, tolerate change, and basically like new people and situations. They don’t anger easily but aren’t pushovers, experts say. Parents need to just use common sense if this is their toddler’s personality.
– Happiest Baby on the Block

You know, the type who makes you want to have another baby immediately.

As Owen gets older (and especially these last few days of pain and illness), I see a little more of Karp’s “spirited child” temperament.

The Spirited (Wild) Child: About one in 10 toddlers is a strong-willed, challenging kid, experts say. “These roller-coaster kids have high highs and low lows,” Karp says. “Parents usually know they have a spirited child because they’re the ‘more’ kids.” More active. More impatient. More impulsive. More defiant. More intense. More sensitive. More rigid. The No. 1 recommendation to parents with this toddler personality type: Keep them active. Get them outside to play — a lot. These kids need to burn off their energy and work through their moods, experts say. They also need firm structure to keep them safe and stable — and lots of patience.
– Happiest Baby on the Block

In general I put Owen firmly in the “easy” camp. But I’m getting a taste of the wild child right now!

Did you have an easy, spirited or shy baby? Do you think they inherited that personality from you or your partner? Nature or nurture?

She Says… Snotfest

Last Friday we had a follow-up appointment with Owen’s pediatric pulmonologist (the lung specialist who we started seeing after Owen’s 3rd recurrent pneumonia and asthmatic tendencies). It was quick and painless. She took one look at this healthy, growing boy who hasn’t had a pneumonia since we started his daily asthma treatment 3+ months ago and we both agreed that what we are doing is working beautifully. I won’t go so far as to say that he’s healthy as a horse (and not even as healthy as your average non-daycare kid), but he’s doing awesome on the breathing treatments. He’s made it through a couple colds and 1 ear infection since December without any major issues or chest x-rays or multiple trips to the doctor. Happy Mama.

Then, of course, almost immediately after we left the doctor’s office, Owen started to seem “off” to me. I had noticed it a little last week: the clinginess and prevalence of “Hold you, Mommy”s. Being easily frustrated and quick to tears. Slightly watery eyes. Just a look about him that I could tell he wasn’t quite himself. Generally he was acting like his happy little self, which I’ve come to learn can be quite deceiving. He never lets on when he’s not feeling good. But usually I just know.

As the weekend went on, his crabby mood escalated and he collapsed into a puddle of tears at the tiniest little infraction. I took him to the pediatrician on Sunday just to rule out an ear infection (thankfully, and miraculously, they were both clear). Judging by the hand stuffed halfway down his throat all day and the river of drool coming out of his mouth, I’m going to call teething on this one. And the snot-sealed nose and increasingly awful-sounding cough is a pretty standard nasty cold.

Head cold + teething = sad baby.

This also makes me think that the biting incident may have been a result of feeling pain and not knowing how to tell someone. The kid may have a lot of words for his age, but some things (pain! anger! frustration! sadness!) aren’t able to be expressed in his vocabulary just yet.

So we’ve been doing a lot of this:

Still, today’s weather (nearly 70 degrees in March in New England?!) was too good to pass up. He stayed in his jammies, but we took a glorious 3 mile walk and we chatted about all of the cars and trucks and buses going by. And when we got home, he insisted on riding his little bike around our driveway and checking the mail about a million times (even though the mailman hadn’t come yet).

Here’s hoping a day home with Mama is enough to bring the little guy back to good health.

She Says… A Biter.

Rationally, I knew this day would come, in some form or fashion.

By the time they’re in preschool, most children have bitten someone at least once, as well as been on the receiving end of an unfriendly chomp.
– Babycenter.com

I mean, toddlers are toddlers. They get frustrated. They push and hit and… bite. And it’s not mean or aggressive or bullying. It’s just toddlers being toddlers.

But emotionally, when the day came (TODAY!), I was unprepared. I felt irrationally guilty (that MY child hurt someone else) and shocked (that my sweet little cuddler could lash out in such an aggressive way) and sad (both for him, that he was so frustrated he felt the urge to bite, and for the little person he chomped down on).

Owen’s teacher: Hi, Kate. I wanted to let you know we just had a little incident at school today.

Me: Ah, ok. Another one? (I was thinking we were talking about Owen jumping off of something or running into a counter and getting a big bruise or a bloody lip, like the calls I’ve gotten in the past. The kid is a bruiser.) What happened?

Teacher: Well, Owen bit one of his friends today.

Me: He did what?! He BIT them?! He has never bitten at home before. Umm, I’m so… sorry… what happened?

Teacher: Owen was playing in the play kitchen with a friend and he wanted to use the sink. He tried pushing the friend to move them out of the way, and when they didn’t move, he bit them.

Me: Oh my goodness! What do you do, in that situation?

Teacher: We treated it the same as if he had hit someone. We lovingly let him know that biting was not ok, and that he hurt his friend. We acknowledged what he wanted to be doing (“I see that you are frustrated because you want to use the sink”) and offered him words to explain his frustration, rather than actions. He comforted the friend with us and could tell they were sad because of what he had done. It’s completely developmentally appropriate and is something we will continue to work on with Owen and his friends.

We went on to discuss tactics we can use at home to curb this behavior and help him express his frustration with words rather than actions. Despite knowing how normal this is, man, I felt overwhelmingly guilty.

Huh.

So MY KID is the biter.

I didn’t really know how to react. When I called Benjamin after hanging up the phone with Owen’s teacher, I couldn’t stop laughing. I don’t know, maybe it’s like laughing at a funeral. I felt emotional about what had happened, but I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do. So I laughed.

I take comfort in Babycenter.com once again:

Many preschoolers bite once, get help with it, and never do it again.

This article has some great suggestions on how to react when your kid is the biter.

One thing I can definitely do immediately is stop “play biting” at home. When I’m putting Owen in his pajamas at night, I often play at biting his feet and “eating” him all up. He thinks it’s hilarious. He giggles until he can barely breathe. He’ll often ask for my elbow (he thinks elbows are hilarious too) and pretend to bite it. I pull it away, mostly out of fear that he might actually bite me, but it has turned into a game. And Lord knows he bites when we floss his teeth. But this article (and a particularly hilarious Modern Family episode) notes that even play biting can encourage kids to bite in other situations. See? Guilt. “I did this to him!”.

We’re going to work on it. While I know biting is not ok and is something to address with Owen in a variety of ways, I can also see, quite clearly, that it is just misplaced emotions. Here’s hoping we can get those emotions expressed in different ways, though. I don’t want to raise a bully!

Has your child acted aggressively toward another child? What did you do? What did the other child’s parent do? Generally I tend to be more in the “leave kids alone to figure out how to work things out” camp, instead of intervening at every turn. However, when hitting and biting are involved, I think I need to take a stronger approach.

She Says… Jessica Simpson Stole My Pose

Jessica Simpson posed naked in all her pregnant glory for the cover of Elle Magazine…

… just like I did a few weeks before Owen was born.

Photo credit: Katie Ring Images

Ok, let’s be honest here. Mine wasn’t going to make the cover of a fashion magazine. But still, seeing her photo this morning and reading her comments about how strong and empowered she felt reminded me of how amazing I felt when my big, pregnant, naked belly photo was taken. That pregnant belly is an awe-inspiring thing. Suddenly, nearly 40 pounds heavier than my normal self, I felt more beautiful than I ever had before.

And, shockingly (when you think about how gosh darn BIG it was), that belly is pretty much gone now. Not all the way, mind you. Hey, nobody’s perfect. But close enough.

Our bodies are astonishingly resilient.

The ease with which my body recovered (and I would argue even became stronger and healthier) post-baby makes me so excited about the opportunity to do it again someday.

SOMEDAY, PEOPLE. Don’t get ahead of yourselves.

She Says… The Runaway

Owen has a new “game” he likes to play. Want to learn it?

Here’s how you play: When Mommy says you have to do anything (i.e. change your diaper, put on shoes, put on a coat, get in the car, get in your carseat, get in the stroller, wash your hands, etc.), you get a HUGE grin on your face and run the other direction. As fast as possible. Sometimes, for extra fun, you yell, “Getchoo, Mama!” while doing so. It adds insult to injury. Even better… run and HIDE. She’ll find you. It’ll be awesome.

I put game in quotes because he’s the only one playing. I AM NOT PLAYING.

The first time this happened, it was cute. Even the hiding. I pretended to look for him (even though I knew exactly where he was), found him and tickled him and threw him over my shoulder. Apparently unknowingly reinforcing just how fun this awesome game is.

But now I’d like for it to stop.

And the thing is, I really don’t know how to make it stop.

I don’t always have time for a little hide-and-seek-slash-tag game before heading out the door. Yesterday we were running late and even though I was prepared for him to run away, it made me snap. I lost my temper and yelled, “DO YOU HEAR ME, OWEN? YOU CANNOT RUN AWAY FROM MOMMY WHEN I SAY IT’S TIME TO GO.” Shouting into a toddler’s face has to be one of the most humiliating things in the world. He grinned and laughed and his eyes sparkled with the realization that he had gotten a rise out of me. It wasn’t the way I hoped to react, or the way I usually do, but something snapped and I lost my cool. After yelling for a second I realized that a) this isn’t the emotional reaction I would like to teach him and b) it wasn’t doing any good.

New tactic.

Later that afternoon I prepared myself for the inevitable mad dash and I tried a new tactic. Waiting. I stood right at the door with his coat in hand and said, calmly and sweetly, “Owen. Come here please. It’s time to go. This is not a game. Please come put your coat on.” I could hear him giggling while hiding. After what felt like an eternity of me standing, silently, I heard his little footsteps coming back. As soon as he saw me waiting for him, he spun on his heels and ran away again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

After faking me out three times, he came over and happily put his coat on. I praised him for good listening and told him how happy it made me. Sounds good, right? But let’s be honest… I don’t always have 5 minutes to sit around and wait for him to come to me. Of course I want him to learn how to make the decision to come to me on his own, and while it works ok at home, I can’t let him dash away from me, out of my sight, in lots of situations.

For instance, he has started to play this game when we’re in our driveway and I say it’s time to get in the car too. He turns and runs away. And although we have a small front yard, and he doesn’t usually head for the street, he could. And that scares me. Since I know the game by now, I usually grab onto his hood or coat before saying, “Ok, let’s get in the car!” and then end up dragging/carrying him to the car. But again, that’s not really teaching him to not run away. It’s just teaching him that sometimes I am faster than he is. I want him to be in charge of his own body.

Any suggestions for curbing this behavior? Do you have a runaway? How do you “discipline” your toddler under 2 years old? We have not really instituted time outs or formal punishments. And I don’t really consider this something that need a time out; frankly, I think he’s just being 19 months old. He’s testing limits and seeing what happens and I totally get that. Behind my stern face, I think it’s kind of hilarious. But it does make getting out the door a bit of a challenge…