Last week our oldest daughter perfected the rapid crib escape. It's not the first time she has managed to flee her coop, but it was becoming more common. She takes a Maguyver like approach and climbs the impossible. Her crib is a bit more fancy than a standard rectangle. We were too flush with hormones and baby bliss when we registered for it to see how practical a simple crib would eventually be. We picked out one with a high swooping back and a low scoop front...a mistake we now will pay for dearly.
The first time she climbed out of her crib was one winter evening after I tucked her and her sister in their respective cribs. They were making more noise than I felt was appropriate for 8:30 pm and I decided to go check out the situation. I opened the door to their dimly lit nursery to be greeted by my 2 year old sit calmly and happily in my cushy glider. She had a book open and I swear she looked like she was reading to her little sister. I promptly busted up that party and put her back in bed. After a bit of discussion, my husband and I agreed it must have been the low scoop front that allowed her to escape. She didn't have to get her leg up too far and she could be free. We formulated a plan and turned her crib around the next day. Now the high swooping back faced forward. We thought for sure that would solve the problem. Granted we now struggled to get her in and out of the crib smoothly over the high swooping part, but as long as she stayed put we would deal with the side effects.
Our solution lasted a while. We struggled daily to put her to bed without blatantly dropping her in her crib. Rhu tried the beaver approach for a while-if she couldn't climb out she'd chew her way out. After serious damage to the sides of the expensive crib we installed rubber mats...also another way to make it difficult to get out.
But alas, all good things must come to an end. Last week Rhu finally became able to climb out of her crib at will. I think the last straw was when I was getting ready for work and I saw on the baby monitor that she not only climbed out of her crib, but she climbed into her sister's. The two girls laughed and played like college freshman at a frat party. There was laughing, tickling and throwing of personal possessions overboard. That was it...she had to be stopped. Once again my husband and I discussed the situation. We agreed on the solution quickly. It was going to be drastic, but if we were going to keep our babies safe we had to do it.
That night we purchased a crib tent. It's a giant size version of one you would see at a picnic keeping the food safe from bugs. This contraption looks hysterical. A mesh tent that completely cover the crib and all side so no matter how clever the kid is, they aren't getting out...I hope.
We didn't know how she would react to being confined like a zoo animal, so we told her it was her tower. She has developed a serious infatuation with all things Rapunzel, so we hoped the spin doctoring would help the reception.
The first night went well until I heard her howl at 3am. Instantly I woke up sure we were doing psychological damage by caging her in!! I rushed into her room and rescued her from her prison. A few minutes of rocking and singing and she was ready to go back to her magical tower. It didn't take long before she figured out that smashing her face in the mesh would be funny. Since then she has taken to her new crib tent very well.
Now, every night she goes in her tent and says a happy, "Night" and she's off to dreamland. I wonder how long before she figures out how to break free...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Bubble Gum
Growing up my eldest brother always moaned that I got to chew gum in the womb. It was a frequent complaint that was meant to illustrate the unfairness of life as the oldest sibling. He always had to wait for privileges like gum chewing and curfews while I enjoyed them at a much quicker rate.
These comments throughout my childhood were as commonplace as cartoons on Saturday mornings and freeze tag in the playground. I never gave them a lot of thought other than oh well, sucked to be you until I had a child. Scratch that...until I had the second child. I find myself obsessing over being fair to both children. I try to look at situations from each child's prospective. It would be an understatement if I said this latest compulsion that consumes my life.
Growing up the attitudes of RHIP (rank has its privileges) and first up-best dressed ruled our large family. My parents and older brothers firmly believed in the pecking order. For a while as a child I thought my oldest brother was a third parent. I'm pretty sure he felt that way too until I was well into my twenties. It seemed he had as much to say when it came to raising me as my parents did. Looking back, he was doing his job as the oldest. A job he took seriously from the day I was brought home from the hospital and he placed a football helmet on my head for protection. I always thought I appreciated his efforts. I never realized how difficult a job he was dealt just for being the first fastest swimmer in our family. Until now that is... I look at my oldest child everyday and pray she takes her job just as seriously.
It was a hot summer day when we learned Rhu would become an older sister. She was barely 6 months old when we began to tell her about the baby growing in my belly. She often laid on my stomach and as it grew I purposefully told her that she was going to be a big sister and that it was a very important job. Her first assignment as a big sister was to announce the news to the grandparents. She took to this job very well...a sure sign she was up to the task of being the oldest. At six months she babbled very well and even spoke some words, but to say a sentence was a bit much to ask of her. We made a sign that said, "I'm Going to be a Big Sister" and attached it to her shirt. God forbid stores made Big Sister shirts in a size below 4T. Rhu performed her task with enthusiasm and the crowd loved it.
As the months passed and she made the word BABY a sort of mantra, I felt more and more confident she would be able to handle the transition. Finally the time came when RaRa made her debut in this world. I went into labor just as it was Rhu's bath time, but being the practical person I am I bathed my child and put her to bed without letting her know what was about to happen...why alarm a 14 month old? After many hours of contractions and pain our second child was born and so was and elder sibling-figuratively.
The timing could not have been better. RaRa and I were ready to receive visitors mid morning when Rhu would be at her best. I'll never forget hearing the sound of new baby shoes on the maternity ward floor getting louder as she got closer to our room. The cheerful giggle as she walked in and the word "Baby" shouted in delight as Rhu saw her baby sister for the first time. There was no mistaking. This kid was made to be a big sister. Her loving curiosity pulled at the heartstrings and the first hug she ever offered her little sister came from a place of pure love that only children know of. She confirmed my belief that she would be the best loving and protective older sibling in 29 years. I believe if she had a football helmet she would have placed it on RaRa's head for protection just like her uncle.
I'm sure in years to come Rhu will feel her life is unfair since she had to wait to play with crayons until she was 20 months old and RaRa did it at 10 months. Or perhaps her curfews will be harder than any subsequent children. I hope she always takes her job as oldest just as seriously. Life is not fair and we will try to do the best we can.
These comments throughout my childhood were as commonplace as cartoons on Saturday mornings and freeze tag in the playground. I never gave them a lot of thought other than oh well, sucked to be you until I had a child. Scratch that...until I had the second child. I find myself obsessing over being fair to both children. I try to look at situations from each child's prospective. It would be an understatement if I said this latest compulsion that consumes my life.
Growing up the attitudes of RHIP (rank has its privileges) and first up-best dressed ruled our large family. My parents and older brothers firmly believed in the pecking order. For a while as a child I thought my oldest brother was a third parent. I'm pretty sure he felt that way too until I was well into my twenties. It seemed he had as much to say when it came to raising me as my parents did. Looking back, he was doing his job as the oldest. A job he took seriously from the day I was brought home from the hospital and he placed a football helmet on my head for protection. I always thought I appreciated his efforts. I never realized how difficult a job he was dealt just for being the first fastest swimmer in our family. Until now that is... I look at my oldest child everyday and pray she takes her job just as seriously.
It was a hot summer day when we learned Rhu would become an older sister. She was barely 6 months old when we began to tell her about the baby growing in my belly. She often laid on my stomach and as it grew I purposefully told her that she was going to be a big sister and that it was a very important job. Her first assignment as a big sister was to announce the news to the grandparents. She took to this job very well...a sure sign she was up to the task of being the oldest. At six months she babbled very well and even spoke some words, but to say a sentence was a bit much to ask of her. We made a sign that said, "I'm Going to be a Big Sister" and attached it to her shirt. God forbid stores made Big Sister shirts in a size below 4T. Rhu performed her task with enthusiasm and the crowd loved it.
As the months passed and she made the word BABY a sort of mantra, I felt more and more confident she would be able to handle the transition. Finally the time came when RaRa made her debut in this world. I went into labor just as it was Rhu's bath time, but being the practical person I am I bathed my child and put her to bed without letting her know what was about to happen...why alarm a 14 month old? After many hours of contractions and pain our second child was born and so was and elder sibling-figuratively.
The timing could not have been better. RaRa and I were ready to receive visitors mid morning when Rhu would be at her best. I'll never forget hearing the sound of new baby shoes on the maternity ward floor getting louder as she got closer to our room. The cheerful giggle as she walked in and the word "Baby" shouted in delight as Rhu saw her baby sister for the first time. There was no mistaking. This kid was made to be a big sister. Her loving curiosity pulled at the heartstrings and the first hug she ever offered her little sister came from a place of pure love that only children know of. She confirmed my belief that she would be the best loving and protective older sibling in 29 years. I believe if she had a football helmet she would have placed it on RaRa's head for protection just like her uncle.
I'm sure in years to come Rhu will feel her life is unfair since she had to wait to play with crayons until she was 20 months old and RaRa did it at 10 months. Or perhaps her curfews will be harder than any subsequent children. I hope she always takes her job as oldest just as seriously. Life is not fair and we will try to do the best we can.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Fairy Tales and Fantasy
Unless you live under a rock, you know that in the last week Kate Middleton made every little girl's fairy tale dream come true...she married Prince William. It is the first time in over 300 years a commoner married the heir to the British throne. The world watched as she gracefully stepped out of her car and into a life of royalty. She will live a life all little girls dream about. If I were being totally honest, I must admit I watched the wedding with interest.
I love a wedding. I enjoy the romance and the dress. I enjoy being swept away by two people starting a new life completely in love. I can't help but wonder from where this part of my personality comes. My parents are probably two of the least nosiest people I know. They could care less about the royals and wouldn't watch A Wedding Story on TLC if you paid them. I wondered just long enough before it caught my attention-my two year old mesmerized by her 57th viewing of Disney's Tangled. There she was, my little Rhu being indoctrinated by a seemingly harmless movie. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks!!! This is where it starts. All the fairy tale movies and stories we force down our children's throats.
I was particularly struck by the moment in the movie where Rapunzel saves Flynn. Sorry if you have not seen the movie and I spoiled the ending, but come on-it's Disney. What did you expect to happen? In this particular scene we, the audience, is led to believe that true love is enough to save Flynn from certain death. The true love Rapunzel has in her heart can overcome the stab through the heart Flynn just suffered. Come on really? A tear drop from your true love will make gaping hole through vital organs just magically heal...oh come on!!
But, that's not even the part that made my right eyebrow jump up in amazement. It was the part where Rapunzel realizes Flynn is saved and he says a suave line like, "Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?" Then they embraces in the hug/sit on his lap move followed by a romantic kiss. It was the exact moment I saw my two year old try to reenact that scene that I realized we have a problem. My poor baby only 26 months on this earth and she has been brainwashed to believe that's how life works. What are we setting her up for-a life time of unrealistic fanatical expectations?
Take Sleeping Beauty for example. What woman thinks it's a good life plan to move in with seven messy short men and be their maid? I've known some desperate single women, but is this really the best plan to trap a man?? Being a maid? And speaking of maids, do we really think Prince William would have married Kate Middleton if she was forced to clean up after Pippa on a regular basis like Cinderella?
What are we reading our children? The classics?? No wonder we are a society of dysfunctional individuals. We've been told since we were born that if we put on funny outfits like glass slippers or dresses made by mice and go dance around our Prince Charming will come. Yea...maybe to see us at the strip club, but definitely not to sweep us off our feet and bring us to live in a palace happily ever after.
Fairy tales and fantasy are what we pump our kids full of when they are young then look at them like they are crazy when they are in their mid-20's and still waiting for their Prince Charming. Maybe it's not such a bad thing to believe in the possibility of a dream. After all, without dreams, what do we have? Without fantasy, childhood is very boring. Some of the best times spent with my girls are when we are playing dress up and dreaming. So, congratulations Kate Middleton and all the girls who find their Prince Charmings. Someday I hope my girls will find themselves living happily ever after...just not too soon. I better not find them behind any couches kissing boys when they are in grade school!!
I love a wedding. I enjoy the romance and the dress. I enjoy being swept away by two people starting a new life completely in love. I can't help but wonder from where this part of my personality comes. My parents are probably two of the least nosiest people I know. They could care less about the royals and wouldn't watch A Wedding Story on TLC if you paid them. I wondered just long enough before it caught my attention-my two year old mesmerized by her 57th viewing of Disney's Tangled. There she was, my little Rhu being indoctrinated by a seemingly harmless movie. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks!!! This is where it starts. All the fairy tale movies and stories we force down our children's throats.
I was particularly struck by the moment in the movie where Rapunzel saves Flynn. Sorry if you have not seen the movie and I spoiled the ending, but come on-it's Disney. What did you expect to happen? In this particular scene we, the audience, is led to believe that true love is enough to save Flynn from certain death. The true love Rapunzel has in her heart can overcome the stab through the heart Flynn just suffered. Come on really? A tear drop from your true love will make gaping hole through vital organs just magically heal...oh come on!!
But, that's not even the part that made my right eyebrow jump up in amazement. It was the part where Rapunzel realizes Flynn is saved and he says a suave line like, "Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?" Then they embraces in the hug/sit on his lap move followed by a romantic kiss. It was the exact moment I saw my two year old try to reenact that scene that I realized we have a problem. My poor baby only 26 months on this earth and she has been brainwashed to believe that's how life works. What are we setting her up for-a life time of unrealistic fanatical expectations?
Take Sleeping Beauty for example. What woman thinks it's a good life plan to move in with seven messy short men and be their maid? I've known some desperate single women, but is this really the best plan to trap a man?? Being a maid? And speaking of maids, do we really think Prince William would have married Kate Middleton if she was forced to clean up after Pippa on a regular basis like Cinderella?
What are we reading our children? The classics?? No wonder we are a society of dysfunctional individuals. We've been told since we were born that if we put on funny outfits like glass slippers or dresses made by mice and go dance around our Prince Charming will come. Yea...maybe to see us at the strip club, but definitely not to sweep us off our feet and bring us to live in a palace happily ever after.
Fairy tales and fantasy are what we pump our kids full of when they are young then look at them like they are crazy when they are in their mid-20's and still waiting for their Prince Charming. Maybe it's not such a bad thing to believe in the possibility of a dream. After all, without dreams, what do we have? Without fantasy, childhood is very boring. Some of the best times spent with my girls are when we are playing dress up and dreaming. So, congratulations Kate Middleton and all the girls who find their Prince Charmings. Someday I hope my girls will find themselves living happily ever after...just not too soon. I better not find them behind any couches kissing boys when they are in grade school!!
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