We like this post from DadJam about how to save money when you have a newborn.
In a nutshell, Head Jammer says:
1) Breastfeed for the first 6 months because the food is free. We'd add that you can breastfeed for a year exclusively and have the healthiest baby (and wallet) on the block. And keep breastfeeding for as long as you'd like. Two of our three breastfed for more than four years.
2) Get a used crib. We bought one and used it for three kids, now it's on loan to a friend who just had their first. Despite being 10 years old, it's in really good shape. We always borrowed those cradle thingies. Or you can skip the crib completely, use a drawer with a blankie in it the old-fashioned way, and have you baby sleep in your bed.
3) Get hand-me-downs! It's shocking how NICE used clothes from cousins can be.
4) Use cloth diapers. Absolutely! And instead of buying wipes and adding them to the landfill, use washcloths and warm water. One family we know has white ones for wiping tushies and colored ones for hands and faces.
5) Forget toys. Well, that's not exactly what Head Jam says but we're paraphrasing and misrepresenting to further our own anti-materialist agenda here.
6) Don't have a car. He doesn't. If you do, though, invest in the safest and most expensive car seat you can. Not the kind that pop out (carry your baby close to your chest. It's good for both of you) but a steel reinforced good one. Car accidents kill too many babies a year.
7) Suck it up that you'll be spending a lot of money on coffee.
We have a few more suggestions:
1) Ask well-meaning friends and relatives to bring FOOD after the birth, especially things that can be frozen, instead of gifts. The baby doesn't need anything. You need to eat (healthy, organic, whole grain food).
2) If the well meaners from #1 really need to give you something, ask them to contribute to a college savings fund or buy Baby a savings bond. In this down market, bonds have been doing gangbusters!
3) The baby will be spitting up, pooping, and growing like crazy. If you can't get hand-me-downs, go to Good Will or the Salvation Army and buy clothes there. We live in a relatively wealthy area and people give really nice, often new stuff to Good Will. So, the lady shopping next to you will be slapping her grandson. But you're saving money.
4) Use olive or avocado oil on your baby's skin instead of expensive lotions that will cause a rash anyway.
5) Wash laundry in cold water. You save money and energy. The clothes get clean. Even the pee pee diapers (maybe not the poopy ones--wash on warm for those...) You don't need bleach of any kind, even though it is cheap...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Male Seahorses Experience Pregnancy
The animal kingdom mixes up our gender assumptions about parenting.
Female bald eagles are bigger than the males. Charlotte Ann Kisling, a bird expert and guide in the Klamath Basin, says this is because birds of prey are so fierce that for a female to let a male get behind her and do his thing, she has to know she has nothing to fear from his talons and sharp beak.
Then there are seahorses. Did you know that male seahorses are the ones who carry the pregnancies? Details in this article in Science Daily.
Male Emperor penguin care for their newborns while the mom leaves for a long period to hunt. The regurgitate a watery milky substance and feed it to the newborn penguin. We call that male nursing!
Happy new year! May 2009 bring more gender reversals in the human animal world!!
Friday, December 26, 2008
Is Shaken Baby Syndrome a Myth?!
Mark Anderson, a writer and a dad, spent months researching this article for Discover Magazine about Shaken Baby Syndrome. The article questions whether Shaken Baby Syndrome really exists or whether innocent parents have actually been accused of--and jailed for--"crimes" they did not commit.
In the article Anderson tells the story of a father in Illinois who was charged with shaking his baby and his wife charged with abuse and neglect. Their infant had been hospitalized three times in two months with seizure-like symptoms and fever. After he went home from the third hospitalization the baby was back in the ER with brain hemorrhaging and the baby was taken away from his parents.
Did his father and mother abuse him?
No.
This baby had a chronic subdural brain hematoma that was not caused by SBS.
The article is thorough and well-researched and carefully presents both sides of a controversial issue. Anderson does not conclude that there is no such thing as SBS. Instead, he documents how mistakes have been made, with tragic consequences to parents and their children. He also explores the research and models being proposed by scientists who are trying to figure out what happens in infant brains and why.
In the article Anderson tells the story of a father in Illinois who was charged with shaking his baby and his wife charged with abuse and neglect. Their infant had been hospitalized three times in two months with seizure-like symptoms and fever. After he went home from the third hospitalization the baby was back in the ER with brain hemorrhaging and the baby was taken away from his parents.
Did his father and mother abuse him?
No.
This baby had a chronic subdural brain hematoma that was not caused by SBS.
The article is thorough and well-researched and carefully presents both sides of a controversial issue. Anderson does not conclude that there is no such thing as SBS. Instead, he documents how mistakes have been made, with tragic consequences to parents and their children. He also explores the research and models being proposed by scientists who are trying to figure out what happens in infant brains and why.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Parenting Advice for Fathers Only
Paul Banas, at GreatDads.com, has a great article up about parenting advice for fathers only. The gist of it is this:
Though traditionally books and articles have been geared towards moms, that's changing as Web sites, blogs, and books have begun to address themselves specifically to dads.
He cites the new book, "Caveman's Guide to Baby's First Year," as an example of this new trend. And also mentions our book, "The Baby Bonding Book for Dads," and Armin Brott's book, "The New Father."
Banas suggests to dads, in addition to reading, that they reach out to other men who have experience as fathers.
Though traditionally books and articles have been geared towards moms, that's changing as Web sites, blogs, and books have begun to address themselves specifically to dads.
He cites the new book, "Caveman's Guide to Baby's First Year," as an example of this new trend. And also mentions our book, "The Baby Bonding Book for Dads," and Armin Brott's book, "The New Father."
Banas suggests to dads, in addition to reading, that they reach out to other men who have experience as fathers.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
New Resource For Moms and Dads who Miscarry
Our writerly friend Katie Allison Granju has started a blog about miscarriage called The Miscarriage Blog.
Here's the link.
Hopefully you won't need it. But if you do ever need it, it's there.
Here's the link.
Hopefully you won't need it. But if you do ever need it, it's there.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The Holiday Hard Stuff
[This post was originally an article by Jennifer Margulis in the Ashland Daily Tidings]
“I’m just afraid that this will be the last Christmas that they believe in Santa,” my husband James said sadly. “I just want it to be fun for them. And special.”
These were the first conciliatory words from James all evening. Santa was running late and we were frantically wrapping presents, stuffing stockings, and placing surprise ornaments on the tree. Every time we passed the kitchen table we took a bite of Santa’s cookies. Santa wrote a note in response to 5-year-old Athena’s, thanking her for the cookies, praising her and her siblings for being good, and suggesting our 3-year-old stop sneaking sugar.
Now that our kids were in bed, we adults should have been enjoying these Christmas preparations. But we weren’t. James was having something akin to an anxiety attack, and I was starting to feel like I wanted to cut December 25th out of the calendar.
My foul mood had started earlier in the day, after being awakened at dawn by my children, who were eager to know how many days were left until Christmas, who had a deluge of last minute present requests (after refusing for weeks to hint at what they might want from Santa), and who were all voicing their needs in high-pitched whines.
“I hate Christmas. Next year I’m going away,” I said to them grumpily. “I’m skipping the whole thing.”
“How can you say that?” James asked in a hurt voice when they were out of earshot. “It’s one thing to say it to me, but not to the children. What if I said I didn’t want to celebrate Hanukkah?”
But on Hanukkah, which we celebrate in a haphazard way, there’s no gift giving. Instead, we light candles, sing the traditional Hebrew incantations, and eat traditional foods. This year we had potato latkes and doughnuts dripping in oil. We invited friends over to share the candlelight and the meals. And, as is our custom, we exchanged poems instead of presents. There wasn’t much to do to prepare for each night of Hanukkah except for putting candles into the menorah and cooking. My children didn’t expect hundreds of presents, and since the holiday is as much for me as it is for them, I didn’t worry about whether they’d be happy.
Christmas, on the other hand, was feeling very stressful. It involves a lot of things I don’t like: spending too much money on plastic toys made in China by laborers in substandard factory conditions, wasting paper to wrap presents. No matter how many times we read Dr. Seuss’s “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” or “The Berenstain Bears’ Christmas Tree” it always comes down to presents. Christmas Eve we invariably stress: did we buy enough toys? Will the kids be happy?
But maybe the anxiety is really about our own childhood baggage, and since I didn’t celebrate Hanukkah as a child, I don’t have difficult memories associated with it. After my parents divorced they still celebrated Christmas together for the sake of the children. My father would express his anxiety by manically throwing away wrapping paper while we were still opening our gifts. I would have a lump in my throat all morning, awkward around my parents and feeling guilty for something I couldn’t define. And I would feign excessive enthusiasm for each gift, as if showing gratitude would prove to my parents that I was a good child, and perhaps even motivate them to love each other again. The only part of Christmas that I remember without ambivalence was how my dad would awaken early to go to the bagel shop in Newton Centre, coming home with a dozen warm bagels and a tub of hand whipped cream cheese.
For James, an only child, the living room was covered with presents. He has fond memories of the mountains of gifts but his yearly anxiety tells a different story. The Christmases when he was four to nine were the years after his mother, who had a drinking problem, divorced his father so she could live as a single woman in the swinging Seventies. Being a mom was not her first priority. The holidays were like make up time. A few months later, she would go on a cleaning frenzy with a trash bag, picking up each new toy and suggesting he throw it away.
The kids wake us at dawn. “He came! He really came!” They marvel at the bulging stockings and the presents and the day is a success.
I hope their childhood memories won’t be as fraught as mine.
“I’m just afraid that this will be the last Christmas that they believe in Santa,” my husband James said sadly. “I just want it to be fun for them. And special.”
These were the first conciliatory words from James all evening. Santa was running late and we were frantically wrapping presents, stuffing stockings, and placing surprise ornaments on the tree. Every time we passed the kitchen table we took a bite of Santa’s cookies. Santa wrote a note in response to 5-year-old Athena’s, thanking her for the cookies, praising her and her siblings for being good, and suggesting our 3-year-old stop sneaking sugar. Now that our kids were in bed, we adults should have been enjoying these Christmas preparations. But we weren’t. James was having something akin to an anxiety attack, and I was starting to feel like I wanted to cut December 25th out of the calendar.
My foul mood had started earlier in the day, after being awakened at dawn by my children, who were eager to know how many days were left until Christmas, who had a deluge of last minute present requests (after refusing for weeks to hint at what they might want from Santa), and who were all voicing their needs in high-pitched whines.
“I hate Christmas. Next year I’m going away,” I said to them grumpily. “I’m skipping the whole thing.”
“How can you say that?” James asked in a hurt voice when they were out of earshot. “It’s one thing to say it to me, but not to the children. What if I said I didn’t want to celebrate Hanukkah?”
But on Hanukkah, which we celebrate in a haphazard way, there’s no gift giving. Instead, we light candles, sing the traditional Hebrew incantations, and eat traditional foods. This year we had potato latkes and doughnuts dripping in oil. We invited friends over to share the candlelight and the meals. And, as is our custom, we exchanged poems instead of presents. There wasn’t much to do to prepare for each night of Hanukkah except for putting candles into the menorah and cooking. My children didn’t expect hundreds of presents, and since the holiday is as much for me as it is for them, I didn’t worry about whether they’d be happy. Christmas, on the other hand, was feeling very stressful. It involves a lot of things I don’t like: spending too much money on plastic toys made in China by laborers in substandard factory conditions, wasting paper to wrap presents. No matter how many times we read Dr. Seuss’s “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” or “The Berenstain Bears’ Christmas Tree” it always comes down to presents. Christmas Eve we invariably stress: did we buy enough toys? Will the kids be happy?
But maybe the anxiety is really about our own childhood baggage, and since I didn’t celebrate Hanukkah as a child, I don’t have difficult memories associated with it. After my parents divorced they still celebrated Christmas together for the sake of the children. My father would express his anxiety by manically throwing away wrapping paper while we were still opening our gifts. I would have a lump in my throat all morning, awkward around my parents and feeling guilty for something I couldn’t define. And I would feign excessive enthusiasm for each gift, as if showing gratitude would prove to my parents that I was a good child, and perhaps even motivate them to love each other again. The only part of Christmas that I remember without ambivalence was how my dad would awaken early to go to the bagel shop in Newton Centre, coming home with a dozen warm bagels and a tub of hand whipped cream cheese.
For James, an only child, the living room was covered with presents. He has fond memories of the mountains of gifts but his yearly anxiety tells a different story. The Christmases when he was four to nine were the years after his mother, who had a drinking problem, divorced his father so she could live as a single woman in the swinging Seventies. Being a mom was not her first priority. The holidays were like make up time. A few months later, she would go on a cleaning frenzy with a trash bag, picking up each new toy and suggesting he throw it away.
The kids wake us at dawn. “He came! He really came!” They marvel at the bulging stockings and the presents and the day is a success.
I hope their childhood memories won’t be as fraught as mine.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
More reasons to NAP with your baby (and not to drink coffee)
This article, just in from the New York Times, talks about how napping is beneficial to learning and caffeine isn't. We say any excuse to nap with your baby is a valid one. If your wife is skeptical of why you need to snooze a roo, print this out for her:
VITAL SIGNS
Regimens: For the Best Pick-Me-Up, Lie Down
By NICHOLAS BAKALAR
Published: December 1, 2008
Scientists spent a morning training 61 people in motor, perceptual and verbal tasks: tapping a keyboard in a specific sequence, discriminating between shapes on a computer screen and memorizing a list of words. Then the scientists randomly divided the subjects into three groups. The first took a nap from 1 to 3 p.m. At 3, the second group took a 200-milligram caffeine pill, and the third took a placebo. The subjects repeated the tasks they had been taught earlier and were scored by researchers who did not know which group they were in.
Those who had caffeine had worse motor skills than those who napped or had a placebo. In the perceptual task, the nappers did significantly better than either the caffeine or placebo group. On the verbal test, nappers were best by a wide margin, and the caffeine consumers did no better than those given a placebo. Despite their mediocre performance, caffeine takers consistently reported less sleepiness than the others.
“People think they’re smarter on caffeine,” said Sara C. Mednick, an assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, and the lead author of the study, which appeared in the Nov. 3 issue of Behavioral Brain Research. “But this study is a strong argument for taking a nap instead of having a cup of coffee.”
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