Baby Proofing II

As I nursed the little one, the big one came over to me and handed me one of the outlet covers. Hmmmm -- more proof. 

Don't waste your vote

This morning on the news, I listened to a disgruntled Hillary Clinton supporter say that she may vote for John McCain or not vote at all because she has been so hurt by the Democratic party's process.  Look, I understand that she is upset that her candidate didn't get the nomination (this time), and I agree with her wholeheartedly that the DNC needs to overhaul its process so that we don't have such a long, drawn-out, divisive primary season in elections to come.  But she -- and any other HRC supporters out there considering the same -- have to listen to Hillary herself.  You have much more in common with Barack Obama than you have with John McCain and his ultra-conservative running mate Sarah Palin.  Unless you have suddenly become pro-life, pro-gun, pro-drilling in protected lands, anti-sex education, believe that the war in Iraq is God's work and want a president who has voted with George W. Bush 90% of the time, you have to support Barack Obama, just like Hillary does.  Don't you remember the last two elections and how close they were?  Hillary Clinton has urged you to make sure we put a Democrat in the White House this November, and I beg you to do the same by showing up to vote for the person the DNC has put forth as its candidate.  Get involved in the DNC. Write Howard Dean nasty letters about the process that upset you so.  But for goodness' sake, don't waste your vote.

Baby Proofing

Yeah, sure, we have the requisite outlet covers and baby gates to protect our little ones.  We even have some nifty cabinet locks, which keep them away from the nasty items under the kitchen sink which seem to work well and oven locks for the two doors of our 1956 Roper range -- oh wait, we haven't installed those yet.

Thankfully, Josephine didn't start out this lovely Wednesday by putting her head in the oven. Even Sylvia would want her to wait longer.  She did however, select as her first toy of the morning, a bottle of yellow food coloring.  Yep, you guessed it, the kitchen floor is yellow.  Josephine's jammies have yellow spots all over them.  Her hands and feet are yellow -- as are mine.  Lucy was spared, thankfully.  How would I ever explain two yellow-dyed babies?

You're probably thinking that this episode inspired me to close the pantry door and keep a closer eye on my young toddler.  Well, the pantry door is closed.  

Less than an hour later, while I nursed the little one, I see the big one playing with the tiny -- virtually useless -- drawer on an end table in our living room.  When I ask her to come to Mama, what do I pull from her mouth?  A screw.  Great.  She also has in her hands the rest of her bounty from the drawer:  two boxes of matches and a battery.  Since I've taken the screw away, the battery is the next best item on which to chew.  Mmmmm.  Yummy.   The matches?  They are nothing more than little rattles -- the little wood sticks make a great shaky noise in the cardboard box.

Why are these items randomly stored in this end table drawer?  Just the haphazardness of our pre-parenting days, I suppose.  Most of our dangerous items reside well out of the reach of little hands nowadays, even if it is a pain in the neck for us.  But baby proof?  The only real proof here is that children are never as safe as you'd like them to be, that something always lurks.  There is only so much control we can have -- we have to hold on loosely and guide as best we can, hoping that we've at least taken away the most hazardous hazards and that our children will learn how to keep themselves safe.  

For an interesting view on the idea of control and how it applies to parenting and politics, read my friend DoulaMomma's blog from yesterday.  And if you don't read her blog regularly, you should!

Tears

All of the family photo albums my parents made when my brother and I were little kids include classic shots of me in tears.  I guess it is pretty funny in retrospect, but it sure didn't seem so at the time.  Now seeing my daughter in tears makes me wonder about the frustration kids must feel so often growing up.  Trying new things -- failing -- sometimes succeeding -- it must be stressful.  Since I've been a mom, it seems clear to me that this frustration is why we don't remember being babies.  Learning to eat and walk, growing teeth, climbing stairs and furniture and falling on our butts or our heads -- the stakes are too high for it to not be monumentally frustrating.  So once we learn it, we forget it -- or the process of it, anyway.  

Some people say they don't remember the pain of childbirth.  Maybe this is a similar thing -- it is so meaningful that we don't want it to live in our memories negatively -- we want it to be filled with the tearful kisses and joy of holding that new life for the first time.

Can't we all just get along?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080826/ap_on_el_pr/cvn_clinton

Are we trying to lose this thing? Do we want another four years of what we've had the last eight?

Triumph!

I got out of the house today!  Ok, ok -- I know all of you who are not encumbered with two under two have no idea how BIG this is -- just humor me for a second.  My next door neighbor, who has a newborn and a 2 1/2 year old and I, with my newborn and my 14-month old, loaded up our double strollers and walked to Milo Borden Park.  The babies slept in their strollers and enjoyed the shade and the breeze.  The big girls got to swing and climb and slide and run around.  The mammas chased and spotted and gabbed.  Not a bad effort, I must say.  We even laughed as we panted our way up the hill that had been a pleasant downward roll on the way to the park.  It felt so good to be out in the sunshine and to stretch my legs. I feel like I've been sitting for months.  The kids looked adorable enjoying what might be one of the nicest days of the summer.  Pictures, you ask?  Oh, gimme a break!  I was lucky I remembered to bring the children.

It's never just black or white

Isn't it funny how some people are still afraid of the idea of having a black president?  Here is a  good read, written by a student in my dad's graduate opinion-writing course at De Paul University.  Check it out!