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| Our daughter doesn't particularly like being swaddled, but these compact, easily stowable fabric wraps (4 for $42) are still a big hit in our house. Made of that material one associates with foreign countries and hot weather, the wraps double as lightweight blankets and breezy bassinet covers. The fabric is printed with excellently classy patterns (so says my wife, who has very good taste) and soaks up baby barf quite well. If you're a swaddler, the material is well-suited for tightly binding even the squirmiest babies — although if you're used to those specially cut wraps with Velcro fasteners on them, you may find these big squares of fabric intimidating. — Arthur Bradford |
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Everyone who saw the bulky Cuddle Sleeve ($50) asked us the same question: "What's that thing for?" The idea, as explained by the enthusiastic Arizona mother who invented it, is to provide a comfortable padded surface to cover the crook of your arm as you hold the baby — while protecting your child from those nasty germs which apparently can be transferred from people's arms and sleeves. The literature suggests that parents carry this puffy sleeve with them and, when strangers ask to hold the baby, make them wear the Cuddle Sleeve to keep things sterile. (Personally, I've found that it's awkward enough just asking people to wash their hands.) While the Cuddle Sleeve is actually quite comfortable once it's on, it's not practical for the quick pick-ups and transfers involved with typical baby care. The pastel material screams "suburban mom," so I'd imagine this product won't go over so well with style-conscious urbanites. . . then again, that's what I thought about those ubiquitous Boppy nursing pillows. — Arthur Bradford |
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| When I was six, I was forced to sit still for several million hours while a semi-talented local artist rendered me in oil pastels. The strangely haggard formal portrait resulting from these sessions bore a closer resemblance to Anne Frank than to me, and eventually ceded its place of honor to a gilt-framed likeness of my stepfather's Labrador retriever.
Mercifully, our experience with the Monkey Museum ran to the opposite extreme. The kids ran amok in the playground while I uploaded their school pictures to the museum's website, the first step in a process that can turn up to five family members, including pets, into monkeys (paintings start at $200, posters at $65). A few weeks later, the Fed Ex man delivered the gorgeous original painting you see to the left. Sticklers will note that they're not so much monkeys, as monkey suits. Like that matters! The artist has managed to capture something essential regarding both children's natures as well as their relationship to each other. A mother couldn't ask for more. — Ayun Halliday |
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My youngest daughter has always been curious about the potty, but her love affair began in earnest the first time she pushed the "flush" button on the mini-toilet that comes with Potty Monkey ($36) . And how could anyone resist? It's just big enough for the adorable monkey (who comes with a pair of big kid pants AND a diaper) to practice on. The set also includes a book with the usual encouraging messages about pee and poo, but it is ultimately the tiny toilet that won hearts in my house. All three girls (even the potty-trained) routinely fight over it: "No, give ME the monkey toilet! I said please!" As a parent who has experienced the joys of diaper changing well into the preschool years, I'm thrilled that Potty Monkey might save us from a similar fate with our 22-month-old. — Rachael Brownell |
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What drew us to the Prémaxx Baby-Bag Sling ($50) was its rugged good looks — my husband wanted to look less whipped than the other baby-bonding neighborhood dads. But what made us grow weirdly attached was the fact that it's a sleeping machine. Sure, we tried other slings, but they all required a lot of fussing and shifting, and could only still a squiggling baby for so long. Made by a Dutch company, this miracle sling has more in common with a knapsack, most happily the reasonable price. It has drawstrings that can be let out for a perfectly smooth crib transfer, and pockets big enough for a bottle, wallet or keys. But most importantly, putting the baby inside it is as good as flipping a sleep switch. And since no such switch exists, I guess that means it's better. Our lone criticism is that the back strap could be a little thicker — it bunches up when you adjust it — but it's a small tax to pay for a 100% cotton transitional womb. (Note: you can throw it in the washer, but don't. Babies find their own smell comforting.) People tell us how lucky we are all the time, that our baby got good sleeping genes and a calm temperament, and we nod knowingly. If they want to chalk it up to genetics, that's fine with us. — Deirdre Dolan |
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Pacifiers. Swaddles. Gin and tonics. Every so often, a new product comes along that makes raising a baby that much easier. Enter the latest: the DadGear Diaper Vest ($81). The self-contained, wearable diaper bag includes enough pockets to hold several bottles, a thousand diapers, burp cloths, cell phones — whatever you need for an outing with the little one. There's also an easily accessible "wipes pocket" and a hidden pouch in the back that contains a sleek, lightweight changing pad. And the best part is, the vest looks cool — it's indistinguishable from any REI or North Face vest out there, although it could get a little toasty on a summer day. Still, a recent outing with my baby and my new vest left me wanting for nothing. Except maybe a gin and tonic. — Mike Adamick |
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I bought a Svan chair ($250) for my youngest son almost 3 years ago, and I'm still convinced it is the coolest high chair out there: it gets the most compliments, keeps my son from climbing out of it or falling out by way of sliding through at the bottom, and most importantly, it is Not Made of Plastic. It comes to you in a flat box (much like some other stylish Scandinavian furniture), and if you can wield an Allen wrench, you can put together a Svan chair. The result is something that looks like furniture — retro-modern, Eames-type furniture — instead of something that screams "babies live here." It's also durable, cleanable and completely height-adjustable. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the Svan chair someday accompanies my son to college.— Karen Murphy |
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