Strollerderby : the poop

Get Their Pee Away from Me

JeanneSager — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 19:30:00 GMT

I'm one of those parents who extols the virtues of "eau de kid." So I was all excited to read Peter Hartlaub's ode to the odors of kids in the Poop this week.

Until I got to section two. Cheerios and pee.

Really Peter, you had to lay that one out there for the child-free by choice folks to throw back at us? Maybe it's the mark of a mom who was beaten down by potty training, but where I agree with everything else on Hartlaub's list, his assertion that "the faint scent of toddler pee can actually be kind of pleasant." just made me want to retch.

Yes, I know he was kidding (sort of), but let me lay out my own list of reasons the Cheerios and pee smell has apparently been WAY overrated:

1. My daughter insists on sleeping with at least five to six books in her bed every night so she can "read" herself to sleep. As a sign of her love of literature, I couldn't be happier. As a sign of what's to be thrown out at 2 a.m. in case of that (rare, but still) bedwetting incident . . . ick. Nothing says read me like Goodnight Moon with urine dripping off of it.

2. Although perfectly able to use the "big" potty, the lure of the small potty is big in my house. Like most potties for kids, it lacks a flushing function. It makes up for it with a lid . . . which is usually left open. The only other thing you need to know? We have a dog. Nuff said.

3. Accidents happen (and if you watched Elmo's Potty Time as much as we did, you are now singing the song), but wet undies can always be whisked away to sit in the middle of a pile of laundry that needs to be done . . . right in the center of the pile, where heat and urine meet. Yum.

4. Ever been peed on by a potty training toddler? I don't think I need to say anymore!

But Hartlaub has good news for all of us. They graduate to the suntan lotion/peanut butter/Play-Doh/bananas smell . . . and it smells gooood!

Image: Green Baby Guide

Playdate: Would You Go "No Poo"?

JeanneSager — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 21:27:00 GMT

Here's one way to answer the carcinogens in your kids' bath products - Amy Graff at The Poop is going "no poo."

As in no shampoo. Not a drop of Johnson & Johnson. Not a palm of Head and Shoulders. Graff, who is one of my favorite columnists over at San Fran's main parenting blog, is making a leap that I have to admire. Or hold my nose about.

The "no poo" method has had its proponents for years, folks who say it's better to let the body's natural oils keep the scalp healthy and the hair "clean." As Graff explains in her "no poo" mission statement, the idea is that a few weeks of greasy hair must be endured. But when the body takes over, word has it luscious locks take over.

The sort of fringe movement is jumping from granola crunchy greenies to parenting mainstream as reports on parabens, phthalates and 1,4-dioxane make more of us realize there's a lot more to fear than a dirty kid. Take Graff - she's always thought the whole thing sounds kind of "icky" . . . but her kids' shampoo is on the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics' list of products loaded with carcinogens. For the sake of her kids, she's willing to give "no poo" a try.

I checked out the CSC list, and took heart that my daughter's shampoo isn't on there (although a bubble bath we once used an entire bottle of was - eek). If it was, I'd obviously change - to another shampoo. Although it's hard to trust the big companies, it's even harder to fathom not using something relatively heavy duty to rid my daughter's head of play-doh and play sand on a daily basis.

I'm going to follow Graff's experiment, but I'm not that brave. What about you?

Image: Boon

What They're Babbling About: Guilty Pleasures

JeanneSager — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 17:03:00 GMT

Turns out the "bad parents" of Babble aren't the only ones who love to talk taboos. We've all got our guilty pleasures, does anyone think becoming a parent means they go hide in some closet with that stained onesie they wore home from the hospital and we just can't bear to part with?

Dig in to the dirt with this week's What They're Babbling About:

Attention discount shoppers, Target's got a fan in San Francisco. The reason every parent should fall in line - their return policy lets you say "My toddler decided today she doesn't like it quite as much as yesterday and will now have nothing to do with it. For no reason." Like your kid hasn't done that. - The Poop

The CPSIA is the new law parents love to hate, but there's still a lot to be said about fighting the lead fight. Are we suddenly becoming complacent after years of indignation? The author of Toxic Truth offers an interesting look at lead's scary past. - Beacon Broadside

Are you as in love with the Mom in Chief as we are? The parents at Cookie Mag are - they've got Michelle Watch going on 24/7, as they follow the First Lady's first one hundred days in office - Cookie

I'd love to tell you I remember every second of every moment of my daughter's first one hundred days. Unfortunately, as Sabrina Weill points out, my momnesia's nothing new. At least that's what I think I remember her saying. - Parent Dish

Sometimes I can't remember what about my daughter has me up in arms either - sound familiar? Sounds like I'm not the only parent who can't hang on to her righteous indignation - ParentDish

Image: Cookie

Are You George Michael or Andrew Ridgely?

Kelly Mills — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 15:04:00 GMT

Peter Hartlaub at the Poop has a great post on the shakedown of competency when the going gets tough for parents. While I bet most couples would say they share the parental responsibilities equally one way or another, there's always that crisis moment--like two flu-struck kids projectile vomiting all over the place--when it becomes clear that one parent could have a very successful solo career while the other one might want to have car racing as a fallback option.

Thus the question: Are you the Andrew Ridgely parent? Or is your partner? Many of the commenters felt that each half of their union had George Michael moments (and by that I am not implying that anyone was arrested for sex in a public restroom, ahem.) A few single parents weighed in and claimed that they were probably Prince, doing every single thing on the album. As an amicably-divorcing mom, I'd say both my kid's dad and I probably saw ourselves as the George Michael, but more likely we were each just one half Milli Vanilli or something.

What about you? Feel free to come up with a band that best characterizes your parenting unit, or lack thereof. Oh c'mon, it's fun...

Balancing Work and Parenting...When You're the First Lady

Ten Songs You Never Want To Hear A Little Kid Singing

Should Parents Be Naked Around their Kids?

Rachael Brownell (Redsy) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 17:01:00 GMT

Most parents probably prefer not to be naked around their kids once said kids become verbal. The questions alone are highly deflating: "Why do you jiggle? What is that? How come you're so wrinkly?" to name a few.

Kelly MIlls' writes about the occasional nakedness that happens in her household and her feeling that many people are too uptight about the whole birthday suit situation.

I tend to agree (I also happen to know that if I looked like her, I probably wouldn't hide when my children come into the room after I shower). We are a culture that is so uptight about nakedness and perfection that our kids learn to diet by 10 and play with thong-wearing baby Bratz dolls.

Mill's refers to the common wisdom that says parents should cover up by the time kids turn 3. My personal rule is once they become critics of what they see, it's time to buy bigger towels and a bathroom door lock.

What do you think?

Granny Manual: 8 Things Grandma Needs to Know About Babies

Madeline Holler — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 18:01:00 GMT

I remember my first visit as a mother to the in-law's family compound. I was the only breastfeeder for generations and generations and not at all sure how that would pan out among a crowd that thinks the more time a baby is away from Mama the better. Our newborn napped on a bed; they only knew from bassinets and playpens. We didn't use pacifiers. We were careless about socks. I wasn't the first of my husband's siblings to bring them a grandchild. But I was the first one to be doing everything right. (Settle down, that's a joke.)

During that visit, it was finally my baby's great-grandmother's turn to change a diaper -- such a demand, I should have drafted a sign-up sheet -- and I overheard my mother-in-law stage-whispering, "No powder! They're not using powder!"

"But rashes! What about rashes," the elder wanted to know. Silence. I knew they were exchanging raised eyebrows, shrugged shoulders, and deep, deep doubt about the wisdom of unpowdered babies.

Powder isn't such a bad thing, but what I'm trying to illustrate is that things change. I'm sure you've gone a round or two with the prior generation, perhaps even with your own mother, about what you do differently as a parent. Poor grandma (and super poor grandpa! He's actually expected to participate this time!). What they need is a manual of things they should know about babies.

Let's whip one up for them. Feel free to add your own, but I'll start with these eight:

1. Breastmilk has it all, so don't refer to formula (or rice cereal, or strained peas) as "real food."

2. Two-week-olds who don't eat solids aren't starving.

3. Picking up a crying child won't spoil it. Rather, there's a good chance it'll shut him/her up (everybody's real goal, right?)

4. No, the baby won't fall out of the sling.

5. We know you didn't always use expensive, fancy, confusing restraint systems when we were babies, but cars back then were made out of steel, had lots of upholstery and, well, I'm the Mom. Sorry.

6. She'll be fine without a hat/sweater/blanket/stiff and outdated leather corrective shoes!

7. Not everything is related to tummy aches and gas.

8. I know you raised three kids without killing any of them, but let's not push your luck with mine.

Your turn.

Photo: Theyreourchildren.com

Pregcellent: And Now For Something Completely Different...Positive Birth Stories

Kelly Mills — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 14:32:00 GMT

All the pregnant ladies in the house who've been regaled with someone's birth horror story, raise your hands... Now look, I like hearing the dark truth about the havoc pregnancy and birth can wreak on your body. For me, it feels like smashing the myth that everything is gonna be bliss, bliss, bliss, and you'll be wearing your pre-pregnancy jeans in a week postpartum, not to mention the fact that I liked being prepped for certain things. However, this should not be confused with the practice of walking up to pregnant women and telling them all about your 72-hour labor where you almost died. I liked it when girlfriends said, "Um, I wanna warn you about the first bowel movement after delivery" and hated it when someone said, "Oh, and then I had tearing like you wouldn't believe and as they readied me for my blood transfusion..." But maybe it's a thin line.

Just in case, I'm gonna share with you this post from the Poop where people wrote in about their positive birth experiences. And some commenters had a good point: If your birth was less than agony, talking about it can sometimes invite dirty looks from those who had a rougher go of it. Personally I come from the school of thought that one person's good experience is unrelated to my bad experience, so it's wrong to haterate on someone as long as they haven't fallen into the righteous "I had a good time so you should do it my way" trap. And while it can be fun to compare battle scars after the fact, we don't have to scare the pregnant women with horrible tales of woe-births. One more thing: Even though there were things I found real hard about my own birth experience (which was my own, had extenuating circumstances that will in all likelihood not be the same as yours) it was in the end positive because I had a baby who is doing just fine, even six years later. Aw yeah.

Six Word Memoirs Totally Like Crack

Kelly Mills — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 12:33:00 GMT

The Poop has a nice post on Not Quite What I Was Planning, which features six-word memoirs from a number of writers, well-known and obscure. There's a few parenting ones, like Neal Pollock's "Eight thousand orgasms, only one baby" and Morgan Spurloch's "Carnivore and herbivore birth magical omnivore". It's a great trick, trying to come up with an evocative, or funny, or true, or all of the above parenting memoir in six little words.

The comments on the post have some great takes on parenting. My favorites include "Two under two sounded so efficient..." from hmb, "What? The first test was negative!" from hotmama, "I wipe someone else's bottom daily" from CarenRoma, and "There is no I in Mom" from spartic. By the time you read this, I'll probably have some new favorites as well, because they keep rolling in. And here's the thing: Once you start doing these, it's easy to get hooked. If you have something worthwhile, you can send it for submission, and of course I'd love to hear what you've got.

Kids Crushing on Kids

Karen Murphy — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 23:32:00 GMT

When my older son was in kindergarten, he let it slip at school that he was going to marry his little sister. "Ew, you can't do that!" shrieked his outraged friend, whose own sister probably just didn't pass his qualifications for relationship material.

"Can't I marry Serena?" my son asked me as we drove home from school one day, his face contorted with anxiety.

Sure that when the time came he'd likely change his mind about this, I assured him that he could marry whomever he wanted when he was ready to. He leaned back in his seat, satisfied. He was 6.

So what's the deal with kids and crushes?

SD's own Kelly Mills dishes on her own kid's serial monogamy this week over at The Poop. You need to read it. (I'll wait.)

There, you back already?

So...what's the deal on kid-crushes? I was baffled by other kids for the most part in early childhood, but developed some mild and benign worship-from-afar tendencies in about the 4th grade, finally ramping up into full-on obsession-from-afar in the 8th grade.

But plenty of kids are taking marriage plans in preschool. While I draw absolutely no correlation between kid-crushing and later relationship woes and/or awesomeness, I am curious as to how early crushing translates into later dating. Got any theories? Or stories?

Oh, and Serena? She probably won't marry anybody, not even her big brother, because at 8 she's determined to somehow become a boy.
But that's a whole other thing.

Bar-Hopping With Baby

Amy Kuras — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 15:33:00 GMT

Do you bring your baby to the bar?

Sounds like a ludicrous question, at first. But think about it – bars are often more than places to get lit. In a lot of neighborhoods, they serve as a gathering spot and the drinking is secondary.

This story from The Poop, the San Francisco Chronicle's parenting blog, discusses the writer's attempts to get into a bar/gallery/"space" with her little baby to see her husband speak at an event. She was denied, and questions why the rules have to be so strict at places that are not all that strictly defined.

I've got to agree. I mean, I have friends who play in a late-night hockey league and have their young kids with them at the smoke-filled bar for after-game beers until closing time (one of them is the same friend who implies I am a bad parent for not similarly keeping my kid out all hours and keeps telling us we need to teach her to stay up later — yes, we need to teach our baby to sleep less. No, he doesn't have kids yet and I can’t wait).

I think that's a bit inappropriate, but having your kid out before the whole smoky social scene commences, to meet a friend or have dinner or whatever? Fine with me. There's a local brewpub here that has half off food Monday nights and the place is rife with families from about 5-7:30 pm. If a place is smoke-free (we live in one of those rare places you can still smoke indoors), we figure it's fair game until the singles show up, which is past her bedtime anyway. Adults shouldn’t be limited to places with nothing stronger than chocolate milk on the menu.

I think the thing to remember here is once you become a parent, it's Not About You anymore. Your social life is going to change, and prowling the bars until closing time is probably best saved for babysitter nights. But exposing your kid to a wide variety of places, some of them where alcohol is served, sounds good to me.

Don't Say This Stuff To a Pregnant Woman

Kelly Mills — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 14:34:00 GMT

People like to go on and on about how pregnancy makes women crazy (knowing wink) but in fact, I think it must have some sort of impact on people in the vicinity of the burgeoning mama, perhaps a hormonal contact high of sorts. My evidence for this theory is the sheer number of dumbass things people say and do to pregnant women. It's like all social filters fall away and people feel real comfortable in commenting on things like weight and sex--not to mention the grabby manhandling of the belly. The Poop tackled some of the ways significant others can "open mouth, insert foot" but we all know strangers and family are equally guilty of the obnoxiousness.

Judging by the comments, weight and size remarks are among the most common of crimes (my fav: saying someone looked like she was carrying a litter) as are queries about conception and the amount of barfing taking place. Birth horror stories are also right up there, and probably should be outright banned, as should any advice about what a women should or should not consume during her baby-building time. Really, if you wouldn't say it to a women when she wasn't pregnant, it's probably wise to keep your yap shut, and then some. Just not a good time to think about future siblings, projected weight loss, or whether pregnant ladies should be designated drivers.

Share anything particularly heinous you heard as well.

Santa's an Overrated Stalker

Karen Murphy — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 23:55:00 GMT

I have mixed feelings about Santa. On the one hand, I love the magical aspect of this benevolent guy arriving who brings stuff like socks and underwear and who makes kids love it (kidding. He brings one smallish-but-cool thing usually), but on the other hand, I totally agree with some of what our own Kelly spouts about over at The Poop: Santa is a hypocritical stalker.

But Kelly takes it a step farther than I do. Crosses a line, really. Because she tells her kid that the parents are Santa.

(Sacrilege!)

So the stalker thing I get. I was never comfortable with the idea of "naughty or nice" and "if you're not good Santa won't come." Making the receipt of gifts contingent upon behavior is wrong unless the adults are going to treat one another that way as well. How does that feel? "Sorry, honey, but the sex was kind of meh this year so I didn't get you anything." Holding a year's worth of behavior over a kid's head during December just creates bitter adults. Which probably explains a lot if you ask me.

So the hypocritical thing I totally get. Santa doesn't come for poor kids? How do you explain that? Kids know this stuff. They know who has an iPod Nano, who has Wii, who has a plasma TV. Believe me. They know this stuff. And I know too that I for one can't come up with a plausible explanation as to why Santa treats some kids better than others.

But the parents-as-Santa thing makes me suck in my breath and cringe a little. I like the fact that there is magic in our house once a year. I like that there are surprises.

I'm actually in a bit of a quandary about this. My older son is 11; wouldn't he likely know what adults know about Santa by now? But what if he doesn't? I can't exactly wink and hope he knows what I know without actually saying anything can I? My older daughter found out at about 7 from some other kids but never made te connection between Santa and, say, the Tooth Fairy, and when I assumed she had it was distastrous. I'm not going through that again.

Damn. The more I write the more I think Kelly's path is the way to go: start young and come clean from the beginning.

What's the story on Santa at your house?

Pros and Cons of Raising an Only Child

Karen Murphy — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 12:03:00 GMT

For twelve years, I had an only child. Frankly? it was awesome. We did stuff together. We talked, A LOT (one of us, incessantly. Apparently kids need to learn the whole "your inner voice is actually silent and you don't need to provide a running commentary of everything you do" thing). But my ovaries began to tingle eventually and I had three more kids, which is of course wonderful too, but a little piece of me always wondered what life would have been like with just the one.

But Kelly knows alllll about it, and she talked up the pros (and cons) of having just one kid over at The Poop, and she mentions some points that are obvious when you think about them but I wouldn't have come up with on my own in a million years.

Like the hoarding. And the vocabulary. And the retaliation.

And the...oh hell. Kelly says it MUCH better.

And even though I love kids #2, 3, and 4 immensely, after reading Kelly's post I kinda want to be the mom of an only child again, but I settle for and absolutely relish the one-on-one time I do get. With each of them.

How Did We Survive? Unsafe Toys From Our Childhood

Karen Murphy — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 14:34:00 GMT

I'm pretty sure that if the safety rules we impose over the toys our kids play with were imposed on the toys we played with when we were little, we would have been playing with nothing but rocks. Wait. Scratch that. Not rocks. They're, you know, hard. Uh, cotton balls! Yeah. Nice, soft cotton balls. Wait, they're chokable aren't they? Never mind the cotton balls. What about ... uh ... blocks of wood? (splinters. nope.) Um...what, then?

Well, Kelly remembers the evil, dangerous toys we all had. It's a wonder any of us are still alive, having survived BB guns, Easy Bake ovens (I had a jewelry maker that melted plastic. Tell me THAT thing was safe), and the heartbreak of Sea Monkeys.

Go read her piece over at The Poop. She's funnier than me. Go on. Go!

Time Magazine's Hipster Parenting Article: The Blogosphere Reacts

Stefania Pomponi Butler (CityMama) — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 16:01:00 GMT

First, I know, I used the word "blogosphere." I apologize. Second, in case you haven't heard, James Poniewozick wrote an article for Time Magazine last week essentially saying that so-called "hipster parents" are, as Aidin Vaziri of The Poop puts it: "douche bags."

Because Poniewozick singled out Babble as "part of the problem," as it were, you best believe that we here at Strollerderby had something to say about it. Those of us connected with Babble/Strollerderby also chose to address the article on our personal blogs.

But other bloggers chimed in as well. Mo Comedy called Poniewozick out for failing to see the irony of being a ~~douche bag~~ hipster parent writing about how lame hipster parents are. CrunchyCarpets writes a blog post which I think supports Poniewozick's position, but I couldn't quite tell because she makes a big to-do about her husband bonding with her kid while playing XBox. (Isn't that a hipster parent rite of passage?) She claims that the ripe old age of 37, she's an "old fart Gen Xer/old nerd" who thinks sites like Babble aren't geared for her. (CrunchyCarpets, as a fellow 37-year-old "old fart Gen Xer," please accept my apologies for failing you.) Brian is kinda ambivalent. And, of course, the child free sites are having a field day with such an easy target. "Hardcore!"

If you've read the article and have something to say about it please let us know by commenting and/or linking your posts below. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take my kids to get new leg warmers right after they get their faux-hawks trimmed. Otherwise they'll look like complete fools at the Franz Ferdinand concert we're going to later. After we stop for sushi and colonics, of course.

The Sadistic (Or Stupid?) Parent: Slasher Films and B.B. Guns

Alisyn — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 21:19:00 GMT

Peter Hartlaub, over at one of my favorite pop culture/parenting blogs, The Poop, has an excellent post up today about the inappropriate "dates" some parents take their kids on. Peter reviews horror movies for the SF Chronicle, and has witnessed, on more than one occasion, kids whimpering in the aisles, being shushed by inattentive (and incredibly out of touch) parents, at films like "The Hitcher" and "The Devil's Rejects." I KNOW!! The previews for those films scared the shit out of me - and I'm old enough to know better. But a 4 or 5 year old? They're going to have to sleep with the lights on until they're 35.

What is it that compels parents to act like their kids are just one of their buddies? I saw a Dad - who was clearly on a third or fourth date gone horribly awry - growl at his preschool aged son for falling asleep at the dinner table, in a crowded French restaurant at 10:30 last Saturday night. I have also witnessed - I kid you not - a 4-year-old hunting squirrels with his father, and a loaded B.B. gun. Don't ask why. Because you don't want to know. And what about the Chinese woman, who took her 14-year-old son along for her gynocological exam? Or the moms who jumped in on their daughters' rumble - on the front lawn of their high school?

What's the deal with these parents? Are they stupid - or do they just not care?

Strollerderby : the poop

Get Their Pee Away from Me

Don't Call Her a Tomboy

Why Do Parents Cheat at the Easter Egg Hunt?

Everyone Poops: The Movie?