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If your definition of a good stroller is one that rides well and pushes like a dream, the Uppababy Vista ($599) may be for you. Its high-set adjustable handlebar and raised axel mean it's comfortable no matter who's pushing — and you won't find yourself kicking the bottom, no matter how long your stride. I love its tight turning radius, extra large storage basket and slick design. It was also incredibly easy to put together; all the pieces just snap on and off. My girls love sitting high up off the ground (no more dogs at eye level, or close proximity to street trash) in a cushy seat that's armchair-cozy. But if portability, convenience and affordability are what matter most to you, you'll probably want to pass on the Vista. The giant, heavy frame is difficult to manage with both hands and impossible with one (which is often all I have to spare); the wide-set wheels that make the ride so smooth are a tight squeeze through standard doorways; and yet the stroller barely accommodates my older girl, who fits easily into a Maclaren. When folded down for storage, it occupies every inch of my car's trunk (where would an urban dweller store this monster?). For a hefty $599, I expected to be blown away by the Uppababy, but I just wasn't.— Alisyn Cobb |
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Ah, the brave new world of the diaper bag! Yet another consumer niche that struck me as patently absurd until we had our first baby and came to realize just how much kids defecate. (A lot.) The problem: there are really only so many ways you can design a portable changing table. The folks at O Yikes! have gone with the SUV approach: big and spacious, with a large mat and enough room for, say, 400 diapers, just in case you get stranded in, say, the Mojave Desert. The two models also include a nifty holder for bottles, which I'm sure the relevant literature describes as something like an insulated food storage receptacle.
Honestly, we were more taken with the Skip*Hop, which follows the Mini Cooper route. It's the size of a small purse — done up in denim, no less — and unfolds ingeniously to reveal a flowered changing pad, along with all the necessary pockets for diapers, wipes, lubes and so forth. It's the ultimate non-schlep baby bag. We test drove the Skip*Hop on our first flight across the country and are happy to report that it works just fine in airplane lavatories, just so long as you keep one hand on the kid's belly during turbulence. The "pronto pillow" (a padded area for the soft baby head) proved a godsend, as our child often expresses her excitement during changings by channeling her inner metalhead (meaning: she bangs).
Actually, we took the O Yikes! model on the trip, as well. My wife is now using it as an auxiliary purse, and quite happily. When she wants to head out on a longer trip with the baby, she sticks the Skip*Hop inside the O Yikes! and quietly prays nobody forces her to say the names of both products ten times fast. — Steve Almond |
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"Cute!" my four-year-old exclaimed as I unpacked these new dishes ($30 for a five-piece set). "Look, Mamma! It's a fried egg! Cuuuuuute!" The squealing went on for several more minutes. OOTS!, the innovative design company that introduced the world to terry cloth sleeved "bbibs," has applied its design savvy to another culinary necessity, children's dishware. Created by a ceramicist in New Mexico, the dishes' uncommon contours are reflective of high design and seem more like fine china than children's dishware. But the design is actually where I had a slight problem. The diameter of the base of the plate (which is more of a pasta bowl) and bowl are very small, meaning that if little diners try to stab at food towards the edges of the dish, they have a tendency to tip. My four-year-old did fine, but my two-year-old tipped her bowl several times. (Thank goodness we were eating smashed potatoes and not Rice Krispies.) Overall, the richness and vibrancy of the dishware combined with the fresh, modern design make this set a winner, and I can recommend it for older diners. I'd stick with IKEA for the younger set. — Stefania Pomponi Butler |
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The WubbaNub ($25 for 2) is a terrific idea, one that I'm quite sure soothes and fascinates any number of babies who are not my daughter. The basic gimmick is this: pacifier (medical grade silicone, natch) attached to small plush toy. Nice. We figured Josie would love the thing. At four months, she's both a binky-holic and a big toy grabber. Alas, this last fact proved the rub: Jos kept grabbing at the toy and thereby ripping the Nub out of her mouth. The Nub itself is uncontoured, which did not help matters. (My wife pointed out that the Nub also tends to collect cat hair, a fact I feel cannot be held against the product, and should be blamed, instead, on her cat, who sheds excessively.) Josie wound up treating the WubbaNub like just another toy, and we went back to stuffing a contoured pacifier in her insatiable craw. — Steve Almond |
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I can walk 3 miles in 15 minutes — if the Strollometer ($40) is to be believed. A Bugaboo can also reach baby-rattling speeds of 25 mph. Who knew? I swear I installed the stroller speedometer correctly, attaching a tiny magnet sensor to a rear wheel and strapping a digital display to the handlebar. I even used the handy cheat sheet to calibrate the device, but I still can't make it work properly. The wheel sensor flops around and the speed gauge fluctuates wildly, letting me know I'm going 4 mph even when standing still. Huh? The idea is to time workouts and let you know exactly how far you've traveled — but if you're like me, you'll break a sweat simply cursing at thing. — Mike Adamick |
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The "happy hour play date" fad could make these strips ($20 for six) as popular as those bar-room Breathalyzers, but the developers have a loftier goal:
to encourage women to breastfeed longer by showing them that drinking and nursing aren't mutually exclusive. I tested my milk at 30-, 45- and 60-minute intervals after drinking a Corona, but the strip, which is supposed to turn blue or green or grey within two minutes if there's alcohol present, remained cream-colored. The next night, I drank three glasses of white wine in the course of a dinner party and tested my milk about an hour later. Nada. I thought I was throwing such caution to the wind with my dinner-party drinking, but now I know I'm really disgustingly responsible. Clearly, Milkscreen is just a great big frat-house-y dare: how far will you go to be declared unfit to nurse your child by a strip of plastic? — Ada Calhoun |
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