Who's A Rookie?

When the opportunity to review The Rookie Mom's Handbook came up, I thought, well, 'rookie' doesn't really apply to me, seeing as I'm about to - OH PLEASE GOD SOON - become a mom again for the second time, but maybe it would be a good recommend for first-time pregnant friends.

So when I began reading it, it was with that in mind: to consider whether a first-time pregnant woman or brand new mom would find it useful. I hadn't really expected that I would find it useful.

But I did.

Granted, a lot of the tips (and can I say? I LOVE the flip-open numbered-tip format. It made it fun to just occasionally pick the book up while grabbing a coffee or something and flip through for inspiration) (but I digress)... a lot of the tips are very been-there/done-that for a second-time mom, but again, this book isn't pitched at second-time moms. Which is why it was a nice surprise for me to a) find tips for activities that I'd never thought of (host an ugly baby clothes party, take a picture in the same spot once a month over a period of months), and b) find some inspiration in ideas for activities that I already knew about (go swimming - this time around, I'm having a warm-weather baby; enjoy art - I meant to go to galleries and museums last time around, but, um...)

I also enjoyed the book because it validated something that I didn't fully appreciate with my first baby - the idea that these creatures are highly portable and user-friendly in a way that toddlers very often (*cough*) are not. I struggled with PPD the first time around and spent a lot of time huddled on the sofa being terrified of everything - the very idea of an excursion out of doors filled me with tremendous anxiety. Looking back, I wish that I'd been of sound enough mind and strong enough will to just get my ass out that door - and into shopping malls and art galleries and cafes and airplanes and bars (those last two? On the agenda for this time, because I'm going to BlogHer with this kid strapped to me kangaroo-style NO MATTER WHAT and I am definitely hitting those parties. So.) This book validates - more than validates, encourages - that approach to early motherhood, and this time around, I was ready for that message.

And, hell yeah I'm gonna spread that message around.

You can find more reviews of The Rookie Mom Handbook at PBN. And consider joining in on the Rookie Mom blog blast this coming weekend!

Barney Is A Dinosaur, Who I No Longer Mind So Much

Okay, so, full disclosure: before becoming a parent, I thought that Barney was a great purple harbinger of the decline of western civilization. Then I became a parent, and decided that it wasn't Barney that was the harbinger of our civilization's decline, it was show's kid-performers (just a little too slick and rehearsed for comfort, always comporting themselves as though their mothers-slash-managers were standing by backstage with agents on speed-dial). I made efforts to change the channel when the show came on television.

But Wonderbaby loved it. LOVED. IT. She'd squeal the minute the big purple dinosaur lumbered onscreen. She had learned the words to the opening theme within one or two viewings. It was like twenty-odd minutes of sing-songy purple crack for her - and twenty-odd minutes of alone-time for me. So I caved. I let her watch it.

I avoided, however, buying the DVDs or seeking it out in the TV listings. If it came on during specified TV times, then fine, she could watch it. But I wasn't going to encourage the watching.

So, when the opportunity arose to review a new Barney DVD - Barney ABCs - I hemmed and hawed. No big fan of Barney myself, I thought it only reasonable and fair to not review it. On the other hand, Wonderbaby is undeniably a huge Barney fan, and it's her opinion that matters, right? Also, this one was about ABCs, and ABCs are good, so why not give it a try. And maybe watch it myself, for a change.

So I did. And yes, I still found Barney himself a bit too goofy, and the kids a bit too cloying, but you know what? It wasn't unendurable (unlike, say, Wonderpets, which make me want to rip my ears off). And, of course, Wonderbaby loved it. The revelation, though, was that as far from my personal tastes as Barney is, I really had to admit that it's really pretty good children's programming. It really encourages a certain amount of interaction from the viewer, in the form of song and dance and movement: WB and I sang every song together (one can, of course, sing along to any show with a musical component, but these songs are EASY. I like EASY) and marched and moved along with Barney and friends and there was much clapping and cheering and discussing and when it was all over? WB was sufficiently stimulated and satisfied with her TV fix that she happily turned off the TV and asked if we could go do marching outside.

SOLD.

(Part of PBN's Barney ABCs Campaign. See other reviews here, and learn more about the DVD here.)

Sharing Is The New Black

I am seven months-plus pregnant. This is my second pregnancy. I have bought NOTHING for the new baby, nor for my pregnant self (okay, one sweater and a pair of maternity jeans. But THAT'S IT.)

The first time around, I had, by seven months of pregnancy, bought a stroller, two diaper bags, a few pieces of art for the nursery, numerous books - for baby and for anxious pregnant mom-to-be - nursery linens, and tons of baby clothes, to name but a portion of it. I had acquired a secondhand crib (duly inspected for safety, of course) and carseat (ditto) and a lot of hand-me-down baby clothes, which pleased me to no end, but still: I shopped, a lot, for new stuff.

This time around, not so much. It is, in part, because, I already have much of the stuff that we need. But not all of it, by a stretch. This next one is a boy, which means that much of Wonderbaby's wardrobe isn't pass-on-able (I don't mind pink on boys, but her pink stuff is hot punk-rocker pink and a bit over the top.) And he should have some of his own things, things that are just his.

But I'm just not interested, this time around, in dropping tons of cash and acquiring tons of new stuff. The novelty of having a baby that propelled me into the baby shops the first time around just isn't there any more. And I'm feeling a lot more eco-sensitive now that I did two and half years ago. I don't want generate tons more waste. So I've been looking for ways to accommodate the need for stuff for this new baby without, you know, falling into the trap of MORE STUFF.

Recycling and freecycling and searching second-hand stores are all obvious strategies, and ones that I'll employ. Sewing and/or knitting my own stuff? Nope. Not crafty or handy in the least. Also, I'm lazy.

Mostly, though? I'm going to try to make do with less stuff. Which doesn't necessarily mean acquiring less for our new guy, but trading off on what comes into this house. Giving away or freecycling more of the stuff that WB has outgrown (I'm terrible about hanging on to stuff for nostalgic reasons - oh, the first onesie that she barfed on! oh, her seventh vintage-look baby concert tee!), to offset the new stuff coming for the boy. Committing to giving away or freecycling the boy's stuff as soon as it becomes obsolete. Borrowing and/or accepting hand-me-down stuff that we don't already have, rather than buying it new or even second-hand. Being diligent about what we really do need. Paying attention to what others need, and passing more stuff along in that direction.

Sharing, a lot.

Part of the PBN Blog Blast in support of Zwaggle, an online community of socially responsible parents doing their share to give back to other parents, their kids and the environment. (Sign up for Zwaggle HERE.)

Can She Watch It? YES SHE CAN!

A new Bob The Builder DVD wasn't a tough sell on my two-year old. She loves Bob The Builder. LOVES. She can sing the whole theme song - which, I know, scary - and has been known to holler YES I CAN in response to any question that includes the words 'can you do this?" This is all to the great delight of her father, who grooves on anything related to home improvement and construction, and he looks forward to the day that he and she can don hard-hats together and build build build.

So, yeah. Present her with a Bob The Builder DVD and she yells OPEN IT OPEN IT! and then breaks into the theme song and I - mercifully, mercifully - am granted 20 minutes of Mommy Time.

But it's not the Mommy Time that sells me on this DVD (okay, it is the Mommy Time. But that's only part of it.) Building Bobland Bay - like all the other BTB shows - deals in realistic portrayals of how things are built, which is awesome in itself inasmuch this teaches kids a little bit about what really goes on on construction sites and how buildings are made, etc., etc., and it deals with portrayals of how things are build with a close emphasis on eco-sensitivity. This is really, really key for me: many children's shows place a lot of emphasis on sending proper messages v.v. kindness and sharing and cooperation (BTB does this too, in spades), but BTB goes a step further by placing eco-friendliness prominently among those messages and does it in a way that isn't remotely preachy. Being environmentally sensitive is just how it's done in the world of BTB - it's presented as a given that any interference with the earth should be done in as gentle and non-invasive a manner as possible. People need to build things - to live in, work in, play in - but they can do so in such a way that minimizes the impact of that building upon the environment. I love this message, and I love that it's presented in such a simple, matter-of-fact way.

So there're the mom props. WB loves this DVD because it has all the old BTB wonderfulness - songs, building, 'mighty machines' - and some new locations and characters (her favorite new character: Splasher. Splasher, I should say, has introduced a new dimension of activity to our bathtime routine, which is a mixed blessing.)

I try to keep WB's TV/DVD time to a minimum, but this is exactly the kind of DVD that makes feel less guilty about turning on the screen. Which, you know: WIN-WIN.

Part of PBN's 'Bob the Builder: Building Bobland Bay' Campaign. (You can get your own copy of Building Bobland Bay HERE.)

My Baby Likes That Baby

Finding music for toddlers that doesn't make adult ears bleed is hard. Way hard. Babies are no problem: they don't care what they're listening to, and worst comes to worst you just throw on some Vivaldi and they fall asleep. Toddlers, on the other hand, have preferences. Wonderbaby, for example, is deeply attached to her Sesame Street Classics CD, which I bought in a fit of nostalgia (I could list to 'Rainbow Connection' for HOURS, I thought. I thought wrong) and has been known to throw a fit of protest if one puts on any other music (except, oddly, the Mika CD. She luuuurves that one. Sings along and totally grooves. If I weren't so sick of that CD now, I'd totally find it adorable.)

So although I was hopeful about the That Baby CD and DVD, I wasn't falling out of my chair with optimism. It was more of a shoulder-shrugging we'll see. It was worth a shot, I figured, if only because it would provide an hour's respite from 'Elmo's Song.' So what the hell. And if I liked it, well, that'd be cool. If she liked it, awesome.

She did like it, as it happened. She didn't freak out and dance and sing along to every word, but she happily joined in when I started singing along with the songs that I knew (omg 'Brass In Pocket'! 'These Are The Days'!) And it was so gratifying to NOT be singing along with Big Bird that it didn't even bother me that these were covers - however well-performed - of some of my favourite songs (I usually hate covers, unless they're really witty in some revisionist way, like Mike Flowers doing 'Wonderwall.') Who cares if that's not Natalie Merchant singing 'These Are The Days'? It's not Cookie Monster or Prairie Dawn! (The covers really are well-performed, FYI. Better than I expected. And I'm usually really picky about these things.)

The DVD was also good, although Wonderbaby did lose interest faster than she would with, say, Elmo's World. But it's not like I need her to be sitting down and watching; I'm happy with some visual and aural ambience that is grown-up friendly. So for those afternoons when she's fussing about having the TV on, and I just can't stand one more episode of Wonderpets, this is the perfect thing. Cool visuals and good music: she's content because she's got the 'treat' of having a DVD on, and my ears don't bleed. Win-win.

So the DVD has been included in our tiny stack of 'DO NOT PACK' discs - the ones that are being kept near the TV until the very last minute of our move - and the CD is in the car for repeat listening. And it's on my gift list for new parents this holiday season, for sure. Waaaay better than Barney.

(Check out the tunes and some video HERE. And check out PBN's coverage of the campaign for a coupon code for 20% off the product, which is a great gift for any parent in your life who just can't stand to listen to one more minute of Elmo's Greatest Hits.)

Daring Is As Daring Does

It's been forever since I posted here, mostly because I've been sick, sick, sick and then sick again, and the reviews are the first thing to go when I'm not feeling well (hard to remember what I'm even supposed to be writing about, let alone whether I liked the thing or not, when my head's hovering over the toilet.) But I'd been dying to write about The Daring Book For Girls, because I so loved The Dangerous Book For Boys and because, well, I just love the spirit of the whole thing. Every girl and boy probably needs one or both of these books on their bookshelf, if only so that they'll know that, sometimes, the coolest information isn't the kind that you Google, but the kind that's preserved between two dusty hard covers, on dog-eared pages that beg to scribbled upon with personal notes. I may well end up buying both of these books in bulk, just so that I'll always have just the perfect gift for any adolescent - or adolescent-at-heart - that crosses my path.

But it's been an exceptionally hard week, and it's hard to fully summon review-friendly enthusiasm for anything, least of all a book that celebrates childish joie-de-vivre. There's not much joie in my vie right now, because I've been forced to contemplate what the life of my future child will look like if certain genetic/chromosomal test results hold up. How could I celebrate 'daring' when there's now every possibility that my child's life will not, could not, be 'daring' or 'dangerous' or involve any of those wonderful words that evoke stolen horses and secret hide-outs and covert missions and great adventures?

So I wasn't feeling particularly enthusiastic about this review-enterprise when I flipped open The Daring Book this morning, weeks after first reading it, having forgotten everything about it and well in the midst of a deep, dark funk. But then I found myself lingering over passages about how to make the coolest paper airplane, ever, and about palm-reading and making a willow-whistle, and then scrolling down a list of books that could change a girl's life, and it occurred to me that daring is not necessarily all about great physical adventures. It occured to me - rather banally, I suppose - that a daring life might just be one that is well-lived, whatever the terms. My child might (might) never jump rope or climb a tree - but she might exult in a willow-whistle, or thrill to stories about Artemesia or Boudica or Cleopatra or Josephine Baker. Daring doesn't always mean stealing horses. It sometimes means just living, in the very best way that one can.

The Daring Book For Girls skews heavily toward the stealing horses (not that they advocate that, though I do) kind of daring. Climbing trees, doing back-flips, plotting spy missions, skipping rope, playing four-square, paddling canoes - independent spirit understood here, mostly, as physical spirit. But not entirely. Alongside female adventurers are female inventors; alongside daring feats of strength and agility are feats of intelligence and creativity; there are books to read and codes to write and many, many a story of incredible women who have changed history (and a solid reminder to keep a copy of Herodotus' Histories - history's first equal-opportunity story-teller, and one of its finest - on your child's bookshelf.) Would I keep this book on the bookshelf for my special-needs child (if I have one)? I don't know. I might just go straight to Herodotus and Little Women (wherein it's useful to remember that Beth is, in her way, just as daring - if not more daring, in bravely facing death - a girl as Jo). I'm having trouble viewing anything through any lens other than what if? right now, which maybe isn't fair to the book, but still.

So maybe this book wouldn't be ideal for a girl who can't run or jump or skip rope or steal horses. It doesn't, end of the day, really matter. It's still a fabulous, life-affirming book. And today I found that this book was good for me. It reminded me that taking joy in life takes many forms, and that folding a super-awesome paper airplane can make one feel pretty good. And I needed that.

(Part of the Mother-Talk book tour for The Daring Book For Girls.)

Freedom Comes In A Little Black Book

You know how when you read fashion magazines, it sometimes feels like you wade through miles and miles of adverts and useless profiles on New York socialites - which was fine when you had all the time in the world to hang out in coffee shops and read Vogue, but now that you're a mom you have other shit to do and those ads get old real fast - before finally landing on some precious snippet of fashion advice, something that jumps out from the pages because it is just so clear and true? Maybe it's an actual piece of advice - like, 'don't feel that you must wear skinny jeans just because everyone else is, including all of the models in this magazine' - or maybe it's just a certain take on a book or a film or a piece of art, or maybe it's an Irving Penn photograph of a fifties model looking just so chic in a skirt that covers her knees.

Whatever it is, you save that whole 800-page issue of Vogue Magazine for that one tidbit of inspiration. And then, two months later, you do it again, because there, again, was some precious bit of information, and maybe you tell yourself, oh, I must write that down, or perhaps I should tear out this page and tuck it in a notebook, but you never do because somehow it seems more energy-efficient to carry that 3lb magazine - and stacks and stacks of its sisters - around with you for the rest of your days (during which time you will have forgotten what piece of precious advice jumped out at you and you will thumb through the pages vainly, wondering why did I save this? but refusing to toss it because you know that it must have been something important.)

Until now. Now, you have Nina Garcia's Little Black Book of Style, which has collected and distilled all of those tidbits of fashion genius and all of those precious bits of timeless advice into one slim, pretty volume that you can carry in your bag or keep on the vast expanse of shelf-space that is vacant now that you are able to toss your dust-gathering collection of old Vogue (and Harper's and W) magazines. It's all in there - from discussions of why it is, exactly that Debbie Harry is a fashion icon and Scarface a defining film for fashion to tips on how to purchase a good-fitting bra to the reasons why a good tailor is indispensable to how to dress for a wedding, really. So you don't need to keep your old magazines anymore. You have Nina's book.

There. I have freed you from your dusty paper chains of magazine collection tyranny. Go forward and be free, and stylish.

You can thank me - and Nina, and the Parent Bloggers Network too, I suppose - later.