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[Trepidation_Mom]

Random musings:

Strollers. Got a combi when the Trepidation Kid was born, because it had a fully reclining back and you could slap an infant car-seat into it. It was a great stroller - didn't look that small, but folded up narrowly enough to fit between a radiator and the wall of our hallway and weighed next to nothing. Turned on a dime. Anyhow, what with the Monster Kid (21 mo., 30+ pounds, 35 inches and extremely athletic) having become an escape artist (ripping out straps, wiggling the entire frame enough to let him slip out under the arm rest), the thing is sort of shot. So we got a little MacLaren. It's cute, looks smaller than the Combi when open, folds to about the same size, weighs noticeably more (though apparently not a lot, compared to most strollers) and turns like a pig. Sigh.

Big kids. Went to a local kid hangout with my spawn this weekend, and he and another little boy ran around together and tried to swap half-chewed food. His mother asked how old TK was and I said 21 months, she sort of looked at me blankly and said her kid was 3 1/2. TK had two inches and probably 10 pounds on him. Damn, he must have been one of those meth-babies y'all were talking about.

Kids' clothes. I have a sibling with closet space, who has become the repository of children's clothing for our extended family. This is extremely convenient. Unfortunately, my relations apparently have crappy taste in childrens' clothing, so I still have to supplement. Mostly with cool T-shirts, though. And, on a related topic, my sibling's kid (the eldest boy, therefore she picks out most of the boys clothing in the collection) is going to spend much of his childhood getting the crap beaten out of him by other kids. I am currently trying to save his sister (the eldest girl) from a lifetime of concealing all childhood photos. All that being said, eBay is totally the way to go. Both for getting rid of outgrown kids clothes and acquiring new crap they will immediately outgrow. (And for maternity clothes, which are obscenely expensive given how long you wear them.) This reminds me that my sister hasn't recycled back to me a 2T Kenneth Cole leather jacket I got her son - I got it 50% because the idea of a 2 year old having a Kenneth Cole leather jacket was just so wrong, and 50% because it was really cute - and my kid can wear it now. No fair. Just because her 3 year old is runty doesn't mean she should hoard the good stuff.

Kids' socks. I have way too much fun putting oddly colored socks on my kid to go the all-white route, but I have discovered that Old Navy socks are durable and may be purchased in bulk. Useful given the apparent inability of the local washeteria to keep socks in pairs. They also get bleach stains on my light towels, so I really need to find a better landromat. Fortunately, a kid wearing one red sock and one green one is pretty cute. (Except at the office "holiday party," I guess.)

Sick kids. Sick kids are Typhoid Mary. They should be quarantined. Away from their parents. I think just expelled my appendix through my nose.

Peanuts. Kids can't be protected from everything, even life-threatening environmental hazards. I'm not so naïve as to say parents should just deal, but anyone who tells me that my kid can't eat a PB&J because someone passing by might encounter a peanut molecule off his breath can stuff it. I strongly take Hank's point, and I suffered from a life-threatening childhood food allergy including dermal contact reactions (which was not outgrown, thank you). That said, even though it is an idiotic slippery slope, I think public schools should adopt anti-peanut policies, if only because bullshit lawsuits should not be paid out of my tax dollars. Parents of allergy-ridden students, however, should be told that the policies as a practical matter are unenforceable by the school, which can, at best, inform all parents of the policy and try to dispose of peanut products it becomes aware of. (Or, ultlimately, they need to just deal.)

Fucking old people. Visited the grandparents in their retirement Nirvana recently. What a friggin' nightmare. Nothing, NOTHING was childproofed. In fact, the whole house was "senior friendly," meaning that if you looked at a door it opened, if you touched a fawcet it gushed forth, and everything was low to the ground. There wasn't a sidewalk in the neighborhood, much less someplace to walk to. God knows the grandparents are not going to disrupt their house (or redesign it) to child-proof. God knows they aren't going to keep an eye on the bairn while "you kids" are present in the same state to do it. God knows they won't just feed the kid what we eat, but instead will insist on feeding him all sorts of horrendous "kid-meal" crap involving soda, fried mystery meat and french fries. God knows they must exercise their grandparently right to claim that Gummy Bears count as a fruit or vegetable. So we spent a week chasing a hyper, bored toddler with full access to the cleaning products in a house with no lock or latch on the door leading to the swimming pool. One night when he escaped from our room, he decided to open two supposedly latched doors to crawl into bed with another houseguest (who had arrived after his bedtime and therefore he had never met), who woke up and said "Um, hi there, shouldn't you go back to bed?" TK reportedly replied "OK!", got under her covers and promptly went right to sleep. She thought this was cute, but it was less cute when his panicked parents woke her up searching the house for him at 4:30 in the morning. I'm still exhausted.