Stuff I Love (Retro edition): Fisher-Price Papasan Cradle Swing

This one is for you, A... One of my dearest cousins is with child and getting excited about the imminent arrival of her baby. Or at least shopping for her baby. She asked me what stuff she needs to have. So I'm going back to the newborn days to write up on this LIFE-SAVING baby gizmo.

What I Love: Fisher-Price Papasan Cradle Swing (prices vary depending on design, Nature's Touch model, $139 USD). We have lent ours to at least 4 other sets of parents and they have all thanked us for saving their lives and the lives of their babies (whom they would have thrown out the window after the 5th hour of colicky wailing).

Why I Love It: Have I already mentioned that it's a life-saver? First of all, sooooo cute! There are multiple designs available now: the Nature's Touch model (neutral colors with leaves and birds and bugs on the mobile), the Starlight model (pastel colored stars), and who knows what other designs by now. And the seat is extremely soft and plush. Many a day I watched my kids snuggled in the swing and wished they made a grown-up version.

Before I go further, every expectant parent needs to know this about newborns: they like to be rocked/swung. They all like it, trust me. I haven't met a baby that didn't enjoy the gentle lull of a swinging motion. My son liked being rocked side to side. My daughter liked being rocked back and forth. But they all love being rocked. Which brings me to reason #2 to love this swing: it goes both back and forth AND side to side. You won't know which way your baby likes to be rocked until s/he comes out, so hedge your bets with a swing that goes both ways.

Reason #3: it has diversions. Some have lights on the top. Some have a mirror. They all have a mobile and music. Some can be plugged into a wall outlet (highly recommend this because it can chew up batteries). Some let you download MP3's (mmm, because you always thought your iPod is too small and you need a bigger device for playing your favorite tunes?).

A tip for you: pick the model with the features you like. Definitely do NOT pick the model based on whether it matches the nursery decor and such (it won't go there, it will end up wherever you spend the most time and will probably get pretty worn). Pick the model based on which of the gadgety-goos drive you the least crazy. Baby won't know the difference one way or another, but if the sound of toucans and monkeys makes you go bonkers, you best not get the jungle design. Right, this was me hating the sound of crickets and chirping birds, yet I picked the Nature's Touch model which featured... you guessed it, crickets and chirping birds.

Other caveats: there is another Fisher-Price Swing that goes in both directions; it's not a papasan swing, but rather one with a more upright seat. This is NOT the swing to get because it is harder for baby to sleep in this one due to its sitting angle and the molded doo-hickey that goes between the legs to keep the baby in. And inducing sleep is a key function of a swing, no?

And lastly, the swing has a large footprint. Yes, the legs can fold together, but more for moving it around than storing. But you should just clear out the space you need now, because you will love this swing if you get it.

Tales of the High Seas, or the Perils of Cruising with Small Children, Call It What You Want, Just Don't Call It Vacation

There are times when things go so inexplicably awry that there is no point in trying to assign blame or divine the underlying root cause. You just chalk it up to the universe telling you that it is your turn to - in the words of a close friend - serve as a cautionary tale to others.

So it was with our recent holiday vacation cruising in the Caribbean. Now you say, "Shut up! You're on a cruise in the Caribbean. I so do not weep for you." OK, save your tears for the end of this post.

Let us begin by reviewing that darling son E and adorable daughter V are ages three years and nineteen months, respectively. The cruise was my mother's idea, because she had already planned to cruise with my aunts and uncles and she "couldn't bear to be away from the grandchildren on Christmas." So she bought our cruise tickets back in March.

Fast forward to the week before we leave. My cousin, who lives down the street and shall remain nameless, had agreed to dog sit for us back at Thanksgiving. Lo and behold, on the Monday night before we leave, his mother calls to say he can no longer do it. Excuse me? The reason: a much better offer to go snow-boarding with his buddies. I call back and as politely as I can, light into my aunt about responsibility and giving enough notice and what are you teaching your son when you don't even make him call his own cousin back and tell her in person that you are bailing at the last minute. Thus begins the frantic search for dog-sitters. Calls are made to kennels, friends, other relatives. But let's face it, it's the week before Christmas and our friends have plans and the kennels are already booked. Then fate intervenes: a friend from our Furry Friends volunteer group offers to have the dogs stay with her. The day before we leave, we get a Christmas miracle. The dogs ended up having a wonderful time staying with their buddy Rosie.

We are duped into thinking that the dog-sitting miracle and the extremely well-behaved children on the flight out to Florida are signs that the cruise is going to be fun. I even jokingly tell my husband, "The flight out is going to be the highlight of this whole trip." Little did I know...

It would be wrong to say that the whole trip was miserable. We had some really fun moments (zip-lining in Costa Rica, hanging out with my family, shopping in Cozumel) insterspersed between:

E getting a rash over his entire body for the first week of this 12-day adventure. We never figured out what caused it, but he was itchy and grumpy. We had to restrict his diet (due to his numerous food allergies) in a vain attempt to stem the red bumps and the incessant scratching. E looked at me like I was the second coming of Hitler when I had to tell him no more Fruit Loops for breakfast or bread sticks at dinner (due to his mild wheat allergy).

In addition to the rash, E also got a yeast infection. Yes, there. Poor guy. He couldn't even walk in the Grand Cayman because it hurt so much. He strolled around in V's stroller. On Christmas Eve, I took him to the ship's doctor, who prescribed Vagisil and oral antibiotics. Total cost of visit: $100 - the most expensive tube of Vagisil I've ever bought.

E's health issues did not end there. He got food poisoning in Costa Rica (as did I and a few others), and ended up puking that night.

We tried to take E to the ship's children's program, the "Fun Factory", which had craft stations, video games, board games, a wading pool, a ball pit, slides, and a stage and costumes for pretend play. But E, being shy and adverse to trying new things, did not like it. We tried to entice him to go many times the first few days until he finally told me matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I don't like the Fun Factory. It's not fun for me, it's not my kind of fun." Well, how could I make him go back after he told me that? But don't think it wasn't the looming threat every time he acted out. One night, he was throwing a tantrum at dinner. A girl at another table also had a screaming fit, and we saw her father storm out of the dining room with the girl kicking and screaming over his shoulder. "See that? He's taking her to the Fun Factory because she's not listening to her Mommy and Daddy! Maybe we should take you, too!"

Not to be outdone by her big brother, V had issues of her own. Like screaming at the top of her lungs every night at about 3am. Sometimes for a long time. Once, she cried so long that neighboring cabins complained to Guest Services. At 4:30am I got a call from the concierge asking if we could do something about our baby. "Please pick her up or something," the lady on the other end of the phone said. Oh, picking her up? Was that the secret to making her stop? We fed her, changed her, rocked her, walked her, shushed her, sang to her, gave her her monkey buddy and turned on her music box - all we needed to do was pick her up? You can imagine how we received that feedback after dealing with her screaming for 90 minutes.

V also refused to sit in her high chair at meal times. She would take all that fancy silverware and fling it. Or scream. She's good at screaming because she gets lots of practice. My husband and I ended up having to take turns eating while the other held darling daughter, lest she throw a colossal tantrum. (The Fun Factory threat did not work on her, as they do not take kids who are not potty-trained.)

Among the things both children protested: being forced to dress up for dinner; having to eat dinner at 6:00pm, at which time they are not actually hungry; having fruit juice restricted from their diet after day 8, when we realized that the crash from a sugar high made all the aforementioned worse; having only one channel to watch on the stateroom TV (Cartoon Network - en Espanol! "Mommy, what are they saying?!"); having to wake up by a certain time to get to breakfast; and generally, having to spend all day and night with Mommy and Daddy (I heard, "Mommy, I don't love you. Go away! I want Grandma!" more times than any mother should have to hear in her life). Actually, I'm with you on that one, kids!

Where was Grandma in all of this, you may ask? The mastermind behind all of this was there, caving in to every request (candy canes and ice cream for dinner? Why not - it's Christmas time!) and winding the kids up to a frenzy so that they could be returned to us in a hyper and truculent state. She did baby sit for us, for which we were very grateful, but most of the time, she was hanging with my family (Mah Jong rules!) or going out on excursions.

Ironically, on Christmas day, my parents booked dinner at the specialty (read: fancy-pants and not suitable for kids) restaurant on-board, and we spent Christmas dinner on our own. It was a formal dinner, which the kids hated being dressed for, and I can't say that I was thrilled with dressing up either, seeing as how the clasp on V's shoes got caught on my cocktail dress and ruined it.

But I can't even blame my mom, because she really thought we would all have fun. And she paid for the tickets. I just have to look back on it and try to laugh. We laugh because if we don't, we'll cry.

So if you are thinking of going on a cruise with children under four, you may want to think twice. As for us, no more cruising until the kids are at least five. I think next time, I'd rather go stay with Rosie and the dogs. That sounds more relaxing.

Fevers and Cold Sweats

When E was five weeks old, we had to send him to the hospital due to a high fever (over 103). My poor baby spent three days in the hospital, where he was hooked up to an IV, got round-the-clock Tylenol dosage, and three spinal taps. I heard he was really good about the taps; I don't know, I could not bear to be there so hubby had to accompany him.

What we've learned since is that E just gets fevers. His little body simply runs hot whenever he gets a cold. He has adapted, as have we. He can run a fever up to 101.5, and if you never touched him, you wouldn't think he was hot. He can carry on a conversation, play, and dance while he is running hot. And if he is anything under 101, we don't even bother to call the doctor; we just wait a few days for the fever to pass.

But when he gets a persistent fever that lasts for a week or more, I get the cold sweats. I know there is a reasonable explanation. But it doesn't assuage me. I start worrying that he has lymphoma or a brain tumor or the worst possible disease I can google.

Right now, he has had a fever for a week. We went to the doctor today, and she told me to bring him back if he hasn't broken the fever in two more days. Then it's back to the battery of tests: blood test, urine culture, chest x-ray. None of those tests have ever told me anything about what causes the fevers, which is enormously frustrating. The only consolation is that they confirm he doesn't have lymphoma.

Cross your fingers for E that he breaks his fever in the next 48 hours. And if that doesn't happen, cross your fingers that the blood tests don't come back indicating lymphoma.

Goodbye, Jerrianne

I posted earlier about my friends' sweet yellow lab, Jerrianne, and her battle with cancer. I am heartbroken to say that Jerrianne passed away a week ago. I was so overcome by the news that I broke down in tears at work when I read the e-mail.

Although she was not my dog, and I only saw her once a month, she brought me (and my dogs) an immeasurable amount of joy with her gentle and loving personality. Goodbye, Jerrianne. I miss you.

If you have a dog (or any other pet), give him/her a hug to remind yourself that every day with your furry friend is precious.

My Last Word on Prop 8, I Promise!

I have never been much of a political person, but this election year, in the midst of the presidential race and the economic crisis, I have found myself speaking out passionately against Proposition 8, which was the proposition on the California ballot to re-define marriage as between a man and woman, effectively invalidating all same-sex marriages. The proposition passed by such a narrow margin that the votes are still being tallied.

I have been surprised and saddened at how many of my friends and colleagues were undecided or in favor of this proposition, because this is 2008, and I thought that we were at a point where we could all recognize discrimination and take a stand to oppose it.

Every person has a right to express his or her opinion about gay marriage, but we don't have a right to impose our opinion into the constitution and thereby infringe on the rights of others.

So I am compelled to make one more appeal to anyone who supports inserting a discriminatory declaration in our state constitution, because it is never too late to speak up to repeal the proposition.

I ask how anyone can teach one's children that everyone is equal in the eyes of the Lord, that everyone deserves a fair shot, that prejudice is wrong, and to do unto others as you would have them treat you, and still support something that legally prohibits two people from declaring their love for one another.

I ask those who would never call an African-American a "nigger", a Chinese person a "chink", or a woman a "whore", why you think this small issue of semantics is not deeply hurtful.

I remind anyone whose spouse is not of the same race, that only a little more than 40 years ago, your love and relationship was not considered the norm and outlawed in almost half of the country.

Finally, I quote from the text upon which this great nation was built:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it...."

And I ask what greater pursuit of happiness there is than the right to marry whom one loves. How do we honestly say that we live by the tenets that forged this country if we are willing to deny someone his or her inalienable rights, simply because we don't fully understand their love. It is love, nevertheless.