Protective Parents?

Let us paint you a picture: sitting in a driveway is a black and white Mini Cooper. Through the large windows you see dad, in the drivers seat, mom in the back, sitting next to a small baby in a car seat. The car is running but still in park. You can’t hear what music might be on the radio but it appears as though mom and dad are enjoying a Gypsy Kings recording as they clap their hands above their heads…to the left side…and to the right. Upon closer inspection there doesn’t seem to be a rhythm to their movements and if you could hear inside the car, you’d hear mutterings from both parents beneath the sound of a baby wailing: “Did you get it? Oh! There’s another one! Hah! I smacked it! Die you disease-carrying bloodsucking mosquito!”

And another scenario: mom has her little baby in her Ergo carrier and is browsing through racks at a shop near Dupont Circle. A few feet away, a woman notices mom and babe and exclaims, “Oh! What a teeny baby! How old is she?” The complete stranger proceeds to fondle the baby’s exposed leg and pull back on the carrier to get a better look at the sleeping baby’s face. She says to her daughter, “Come look at this little baby!” At this point three thoughts or rather, scenarios go through the mother’s mind:

(A) Clutch the baby to your chest, locate the nearest exit and escape, now!
(B) Politely say to the woman: “May I offer you some hand sanitizer so that you may continue to paw at my newborn?”
(C) Securing the baby with one arm, roundhouse kick (see Chuck Norris) the woman while screaming, “get your hands off my baby!”

So, are we being overly protective? (Check all that apply.)
	No, babies are lunatic magnets.
	Yes, if you take a baby out, you have to expect the lunatics to come out.
	No, boy I could tell you some stories about some lunatics who wanted to hold my newborn.
	Yes, a little West Nile Virus will just make her hardier.
	No, in fact, you should probably consider moving out of that swamp they like to call our Nation’s Capital.
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D Cells C Cells, the AAA No More?

We thought we had seen the last of the D cell battery when our boom box left over from the 80’s finally gave up the ghost, bleeding green and crusted alkaline from it’s plastic innards.

I mean, come on, who uses D cell batteries anymore, right? When was the last time you used anything other than a AA, AAA, or even occasionally a C? For that matter, when was the last time you used a disposable battery at all?

It turns out that the D cell remains the primary power supply for childrens’ devices. We got a fancy new mobile for Penny, and it takes four D cell batteries. Not one, not two, not three, but four of the behemoths. A friend has a child that liked to sleep in an automatic swing – they went through hundreds of the venerable D cell. My iPod has run for more than two years on a rechargeable battery 1/100 the size of what is required by these basic motorized devices.

In the spirit of our investigative mandate, we checked into the D cell. It was invented in 1896 to power what was then the hippest fashion accessory, the flashlight (click here for a history of the flashlight). It’s immediate predecessor, the #6 battery, weighed in at around three pounds at six inches in height (click here for a history of the battery).

Think about it – the most cutting edge devices we use to educate and entertain our children employ technology created in 1896. Is there anything else we use in our everyday lives that has not changed much since 1896? Even the Constitution was last updated on May 5, 1992!

Couldn’t toy manufacturers use a little imagination and figure out how to juice up their devices with a little less power? After all, they’ve certainly figured out how to miniaturize the little screws that you have to get past just to change the battery (a story for another day – why do these devices require the smallest screwdriver possible to open the battery compartment? Fisher Price My First Nano-Technology?).

Maybe Hasbro et al. are just trying to "keep it real." Maybe it is all just a nod to the various vintage crazes that periodically sweep the nation. Maybe there is a deeply rooted conspiracy between toy and battery manufacturers to keep the D alive. Whatever the reason, if you long for the days when D cells ruled the world, become a new parent, and you’ll find yourself awash in your stubby, familiar friends.

Mommy Memory

This week’s entry is a slight departure from our typical focus on Penny and the trials and tribulations of both parents. But don’t worry, we’ll still include a cute photo of the baby.

During pregnancy, most women experience a slight lapse in mental functioning, typically manifesting in memory loss. The clinical term for this condition is “pregnancy stupids” —just kidding—and often sounds like the following. “Honey, do you know what happened to the…um…the stuff made of crushed nuts?” “Peanut butter?” “Yeah! That’s it!” Unfortunately, and much to the dismay of the woman’s partner, this condition continues postpartum.

One girlfriend offered a possible explanation. With the myriad concurrent thoughts vying for mom’s attention—e.g. baby, husband, dog, blog entries—there’s no way she can carry on a coherent conversation or put together a complete thought…unless she’s discussing her child’s medical history.

Since giving birth, I often have trouble completing a sentence, but after accompanying Penny to multiple doctor visits, I can give a detailed overview of Penny’s positioning issues. And when I speak with girlfriends about their pregnancies and births, these women sound like third year medical students.

So why do our hormones toy with us in such a bizarre fashion? I suppose this is again nature’s way of laying groundwork, preparing for the inevitable. Sooner or later mom will graduate from Mom academy and become “Dr. Mom,” the healer of colds, remover of splinters.

Test your Mommy Memory! Without looking, what was the first word of this blog entry?
	The
	This
	During
	...um...
	Aw, come on! I’m not pregnant and there’s still no way I’d remember that!
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What Not to Wear

One of the great things about being a new parent is dressing your baby. Penny received numerous adorable outfits from family and friends, many of which we’re anxious for her to get large enough to wear. We have many favorites, and the outfits complement her fine features and chubby physique. The onesies, dresses, jumpers, pajamas, sweaters, and little-widdle sockies all range from the ridiculously cute to the ridiculous.

For example, Tony’s sister handed down a pair of red and white stripped pants. They look like the bottom half of a sans-culottes or part of a costume some poor Pirates of the Caribbean ride operator would have to wear (see photos below). No adult would ever dream of wearing such an unflattering piece of clothing, but we love dressing her in the abominations. Her legs look even chubbier—her diaper clad butt, even bigger. And the best part is, she has no idea how silly she appears. Or maybe the point is, she could care less.

Penny only cares about sleeping, eating and being held. She enjoys staring at interesting patterns, especially the quilt her great aunt made her, and smiling at the silly faces mom and dad make. So maybe it’s not that we enjoy dressing her in embarrassing clothing but that we enjoy her lack of concern over such trivial matters.