Unsolicited Advice: Lessons Learned During BG's Third Flight

I think I'd like to go run around on that field...

In March of this year we went back to Arizona (his first trip there, which you may remember, was over Christmas; his first vacation overall was to the Dominican Republican and was the worst). From the picture to the right you can see that we did indeed make it to Arizona and enjoyed a Cubs' spring-training game one nice afternoon in Mesa. But unfortunately we had a bit of travel drama during our flights there and back that I'll cover today so that hopefully someone out there can learn from our mistakes.

At the time of this vacation, Baba G was 14 months old and was now using a convertible car seat instead of a baby car seat. Meaning that this was our first time bringing a convertible car seat onto a plane.

As we had for both of our other trips, we bought BG his own seat because there's just so way we'd be able to keep him under control otherwise. He has always been, and I think he will forever be, one busy little dude.

But before we needed to worry about getting him into his seat on the plane, we had to worry about NOT MISSING our flight in the first place. We drove to the airport and arrived with not much time to spare. When we got to the parking structure closest to O'Hare, it was full. Talk about panic setting in!

Morning yard walk with Grandpa

Then my husband drove around again and went up to the structure one more time. We saw some security guards and they took pity upon us (totally because of BG, I'm positive) and let us go in because there were, in fact, still a few open spots. This is but one perk of traveling with a baby or toddler. You can leverage them in situations like this.

It thankfully didn't take us too long to park. But then my husband couldn't get the car seat out of the car. Because he had NEVER taken it out of the car before — he'd only put it in. Once. Like I said, at that point it was fairly new. Which leads us to...

LESSON #1: Practice taking a convertible car seat in and out of the car at least a few times before you go to the airport.

Baba G's baby car seat had doubled as an overall carrier that we were always taking in and out of the house, attaching to the his stroller, etc. Whereas the convertible car seat was a whole new animal. It was much bigger and bulkier, and it always just stayed in the car. So we spent a very tense 10-15 minutes in the parking structure while my husband tried everything — finally needing to consult the manual (which we were really lucky he thought to bring along) — to get the car seat out.

Next came the problem of attaching the car seat to the new travel cart we'd bought for the occasion. You may remember that one of the huge FAILS of our first vacation with BG was that we'd bought this "Traveling Toddler" device that was supposed to easily and securely strap a car seat onto your wheeled luggage. Except that when the time came for us to leave we realized that strap only worked with full-size car seats, not baby car seats.

So now that we had a full-size car seat, why didn't we use the Traveling Toddler? I actually wanted to try, but my husband didn't feel like fooling with it. He wanted to use a straightforward cart, so he bought this one from Britax:

This contraption is $80, believe it or not. But it works with most LATCH-system car seats and folds down so that you can put it in a plane's overhead compartment. Our car seat is not a Britax, by the way, and worked just fine with this cart (um, eventually. Read on...).

Now, most people buy this sort of cart so that they can actually lug their kid (in their car seat) around the airport on it. We didn't do that because my husband couldn't connect the car seat onto the cart at first. It was total mayhem that morning, I tell you. The car seat kept tipping off of the cart and we were really struggling to haul everything over to the check-in area from the parking ramp. So my husband decided to tote BG around in our Catbird Baby Pikkolo carrier.

Once we were in the airport and a little calmer, my husband figured out how to simply click the car seat onto the cart. I promise you it IS easy to do, but you do need to read the instructions first. Ahem.

LESSON #2: Don't try to figure out any of your travel gear for the first time on the day of your trip. Especially if it's an early-morning trip and you're rushed and have a toddler with you and are going to be stressed out anyway. And bring manuals for everything you haven't used before.

Even after we got the cart working properly, we decided to keep BG in the carrier because we were bringing so much carry-on luggage that it worked better to load things this-a-way:

Action shot! (And remember I'm also lugging two wheelies, a backpack and duffel bag.)

Yes, we are ridiculous.

So we finally get on the plane. We paid extra to be allowed to board a bit earlier on Southwest, and it was worth it because we were already so high-strung at that point.

This was going to be my husband's first time attempting to load the bigger car seat onto a plane seat. Obviously this one ISN'T something you can practice beforehand. But it did end up working OK. (I'd still advise reading the manual thoroughly, though, just in case.)

The drama that went down on that flight was that Baba G was really cranky and wouldn't sleep at all (we'd woken him up about 3 hours early that morning and had hoped he'd sleep on the plane).

Instead he finally conked out on the short shuttle ride to the rental-car station. Classic:

Hertz so good.

One thing we forgot to do on both the flights there and back was take this bar thing off of the bottom of the car seat (by BG's feet):

Not so comfy looking.

This bar CAN be removed, but we just forgot to do it before the seat was already in place. Taking it off would have allowed the person in front of BG to recline more. Thankfully the row in front of us was full of extremely tolerant people who were not fazed by BG's less-than-ideal behavior.

What I'm referring to is on the flight back, which was already past BG's bedtime, he basically cried the whole way home. I had offered everyone around us earplugs, but no one seemed as bothered as Dustin and I were, to be honest!

We learned a major lesson that night:

LESSON #3: If you know your kid is tired and is cranky BECAUSE he's tired, just let him cry it out hardcore because it'll take like 5 minutes and then he'll fall fast asleep. DO NOT do what we did, which is attempt to console or distract him for a full three hours first, leading to constant wailing and the increasing grumpiness of everyone involved.

So the picture above (and below) is of BG falling asleep AFTER WE LANDED back in Chicago. Yep. As soon as we stopped trying to keep him quiet for everyone else's sake, he had one screaming fit for about 5 minutes and then just gave up and fell asleep. It would've been better if we'd just let that happen at the beginning of the flight.

Parents just don't understand.

We're gearing up for a trip to England and Scotland next month, so I'm sure there will be another round of travel advice coming after we return. This time we'll get to deal with the joys of jet lag, too — hooray!

Unsolicited Advice: You Probably Already Know This About Diapers, Though

About a year ago I bemoaned the fact that Baba G was always peeing through his diapers overnight and would either be so uncomfortable that he'd wake up hollering in the wee hours, or he'd stay asleep but be a soaking mess in the mornings. That always made (and still makes) me feel bad.

Unfortunately it continues to happen on occasion, despite our best efforts, which have included:

• Moving him up a size for his nighttime diapers as a friend advised. I guess the theory is that larger sizes hold more pee or something?
• Giving him his last shot of liquids an hour earlier than we used to. He's totally off of bottles finally but up until a month ago (he's 18 months old now) were still doing what you're not supposed to do and rocking him to sleep after he drank an 8-ounce cup-with-straw of milk. So now we give him milk and water about an hour before his nighttime routine (plus just another quick swig of water right before bed) and that has definitely helped. He's peed the majority out before his bath. (Or maybe it's happening in his tub? I prefer not to think about that, even though it's usually my husband handling bath time!)

But the lamest thing that was probably contributing to the problem was my basic lack of understanding about how diapers work. One night my husband just casually mentioned something about ensuring "the inner elastic" was in place as I was putting on BG's nighttime diaper. I was like, "What?"

Then my husband showed me how he always runs a finger around the  part of the diaper that circles BG's legs to make sure that the inner elastic band was positioned correctly and cradling BG's legs/butt and not folded in on itself, which would definitely seem to encourage leaks.

I'm talkin' 'bout the purple parts

I felt so dumb, because it was like I knew there was that band there, but I never messed with it — I always just made sure the top was secured snugly and had been convinced all the pee was seeping through that area. Now, sure enough, almost every time I run my finger around the inner elastic band by his legs it is messed up and in need of correcting.

So I'd like to think that doing that every evening has helped in some small way. But since BG still is face-down with his knees and legs tucked under him and his butt high in the air through most of the night, there's only so much one poor diaper can do to fight gravity.

Baba G's Second Trip + More Travel Advice

I am pretty sure that every time we travel with Baba G, we're going to learn some lessons. But the thing with kids is that the lessons you learn can really only be used for a short period of time... or until/unless you have another kid.

What I mean is that I don't think many of the tricks that we used during our first and second trips with BG are going to be helpful for future vacations — as evidenced by the fact that his attitude toward traveling had already drastically changed on our most recent trip, even though he was only three months older.

In November and December, he was just learning to walk, and therefore was fairly content to chill in his car seat during the flight. He was still having bottles every four hours, and so it was easy enough to tweak his schedule so that we could give him a bottle to help pass the time and/or help his ears when it was time for takeoff. He was also easily entertained.

I'll be back with new and updated tips for flying with toddlers shortly, based on our trip to Arizona at the end of March. But for now I thought I'd share a few more lessons we learned during our second set of flights with BG in December. (Tips from our first flights with him are here.)

Once again, we had early-morning flights, and BG quickly fell back asleep once he was in the car to the airport. Both outside on the curb and in his car seat in the middle of the crowded terminal, he snoozed.


The ability to sleep in loud places is a skill I hope he maintains forever. Needless to say, he was a little groggy when we had to wake him up for the security line.

Not having it.

So... we flew on Christmas Day, because some friends told us it was a slow travel day.

WRONG.

It was perhaps the busiest I've seen the airport in a long time. Someone must have hired a Santa to go around and attempt to cheer people up, but Baba G let him know that he was NOT THE ONE.

What a face.

Nuh-uh.

We were on Southwest, and quickly cursed their "unassigned seat" system. Long story short, while other major airlines might have a "preboarding" option for families with small kids, Southwest attracts SO MANY FAMILIES that they reserve this particular cattle call until after a good chunk of passengers are already on board (families can board between groups A and B... but group A is pretty huge).

This STRESSED me and my husband out majorly, especially because we had bought a seat for Baba G and were hauling his heavy car seat around. I was worried we wouldn't find three seats together, and/or that we wouldn't find a window seat (car seats must be installed in window seats).

My worries were unfounded because we did find seats together and get settled in just fine, but the level of stress my husband and I experienced beforehand led us to pay additional charges during our trip last month in order to be guaranteed early boarding. It was worth it.

But back to the Christmas vacation. We once again brought some new toys, and hung one of them on his car seat bar. That kept him occupied for a little while. Lots of finger-food snacks were involved as well.

Hard to tell from this picture, but that thing is a little plane with spinny parts.

We had his soft yellow blanket on hand, and when he appeared to be getting sleepy, we just left him alone and then threaded an Aden & Anais swaddle blanket over his car seat bar to shield him a tad more from both light and noise. It worked!

We had a great trip and uneventful flights on the way back to Chicago, too. Probably because Baba G decided to forgo looking at the scenery in Phoenix and nap on the return ride to the airport instead.

Our trip back to Phoenix over Easter didn't go QUITE so smoothly.

Details on that — as well as thoughts on what I think we should've done differently — very soon!

Baba G's First Flights + Travel Advice

As we're currently gearing up for a trip to Arizona to visit Baba G's grandparents and other relatives — plus go to a Cubs spring training game — I thought I'd write about what worked for us when we traveled with BG last year.

You might remember that our very first trip with him ended in disaster, with all of us catching some sort of awful stomach virus in the Dominican Republic. The good news, however, was that the flights to and from the Caribbean went smoothly. We changed planes in Atlanta both times, so he went on four flights in total for that trip.

We carried all of BG's stuff on-board, with toys/food/formula I thought we'd need during the flight in a big duffel bag that I kept under the seat in front of me for easy access. The picture below shows just some of these "essentials." (Those of you who've read my other blogs through the years might remember that my poor kitchen table is never clean. This is what it looked like while I was working on my book.)

Not even 1/4 of all of his stuff

We had to wake BG up around 5 a.m. to leave (he normally gets up between 7 and 7:30 a.m.), so he was pretty out of it once we got to O'Hare.

Welcome to your first security line!

Unsolicited Advice: Preparing for Baby's First International Trip

Thanks again to everyone who offered travel advice in response to this post. We ended up buying Baba G his own seat on the plane, and we're also going to bring along his car seat in the hopes that he'd be more comfortable napping in that rather than with us holding him. I equated my husband or me holding him to him being more likely to get distracted by everything going on around us. Both of our flights just so happen to be during his nap times, so here's hopin'!

After researching our options, I decided to try out THIS crazy thing, rather than buy a small cart with wheels to attach the car seat onto:

Believe it or not, people SWEAR this works. And it was only $15...

Our criteria for this first trip out of the U.S. with him was that we wanted to go somewhere neither my husband nor I had been before, it had to be in the Caribbean because we wanted to minimize travel time while also ending up somewhere warm (and I've visited most islands there, so pickings were slim), and ideally it would be an all-inclusive resort with multiple dining options and a baby-friendly reputation.

I Googled "Baby-friendly Caribbean resorts" and found this New York Times article from two years ago. I'd already been to Jamaica, so that was out. We went to Atlantis in the Bahamas for our babymoon last year, so that was out. (This IS one of the few places I would actually return to when Baba G is older, however, because its water park is just so amazing and I know he'd love it... and I didn't get to go on any of that stuff because I was pregnant!) There wasn't a painless way to get to St. Lucia from Chicago, so that was out. We seriously considered Curacao, but that also seemed more difficult to get to, and the resort the article mentioned seemed more appropriate for kids rather than babies. So that left the two places in the Dominican Republic, a country I'd already been zeroing in on because it met all of our criteria.

We ended up booking a "5 Trident" suite at Club Med Punta Cana because we wanted to be away from the rest of the resort and have as much privacy and service as possible. The resort is only ten minutes from the airport, which minimized the travel time Baba G would have to be in his car seat during the transfer. (The main reason we decided to bring his car seat is because we will need to travel by taxi about forty minutes to and from the airport in Chicago, as well as those ten minutes once we're at our destination, and I'm just too paranoid to not have him in a car seat during those times.)

I was also impressed by the high "family-friendly" TripAdvsior ratings/positive reviews CMPC received, but what ended up sealing the deal for Club Med overall was that this location is one of the few Club Med spots that offers that Baby Club Med program. We actually don't intend to leave Baba G with sitters there during our stay at all, but we were desperate to find a reputable place that provided Pack 'n Plays, tubs, strollers, etc., so that we didn't have to haul ANY of that crap with us. This place supplies all of those things and more, plus they even have baby food (the jarred kind) and special areas in the restaurants for those who are feeding babies in high chairs and whatnot.

SOLD! (You're on your own for formula and diapers, though, which was fine with us.) They also have a really cool Baby Club Med play area, although I think that's technically for the people using the daycare option. We'll see.

Go nuts, BG!

We booked everything through Club Med so they took care of our flights, and since they were running a "7 nights for the price of 4" promotion, and since the time we're going is their low season, it was a great deal overall. If I had to do it over again I would probably explicitly ask the Club Med rep to contact the airline while I waited on hold to see if we could get a discount for Baba G's seat, as I heard many airlines do this for travelers under the age of 2. Instead I'm pretty sure we paid a full, ridiculously high price. I don't want to think about it! (They didn't provide a room vs. flight breakdown so I'm going to choose to remain ignorant.)

The next to-dos were: 1) getting Baba G into the kids' travel clinic for any necessary shots and destination-specific advice, and then 2) getting him a passport ASAP. The travel clinic visit went smoothly, the passport photo shoot... not so much.

Soon.

We first went to Kinko's when it was nearing Baba G's bedtime. That was a mistake because he was getting cranky. We spent a full 50 minutes trying to get a shot where he was actually looking into the camera. Their camera had a multi-second delay, so this was nearly impossible. But once we finally got an acceptable shot... their printer didn't work, and there was no way to salvage the picture. They couldn't email it to us or anything.

The next day we went to Walgreens and a very friendly woman with big hair and exceedingly long nails was behind the photo counter, and she was a bit TOO friendly in Baba G's mind. She kind of got up in his face telling him how cute he was, and since he's in his "Not So Sure About Strangers" phase, he started bawling.

So then we had to distract him by walking around Walgreens for like 10 minutes. We finally got a picture after I asked the woman to help keep the white background secure while a different, less enthusastic Walgreens employee stood in front of BG to get the shot. My husband is holding BG standing up while the Too Friendly woman positioned the white cardboard thingy right behind Baba.

This is one of the outtakes of the shoot. The joke's on him because he'll have to live with this picture for the next 5 years!

Should this be an ad for Walgreens' photo service or what?

I'll definitely have a "Lessons Learned" debrief post after we're back from the trip at the end of November... wish us luck!

Unsolicited Advice: Friends of Pregnant People, Don't "Check In"

Two things inspired today's post:

1) I have a bunch of friends who are pregnant and due in the coming weeks.
2) I came across a few pictures from the final days of my pregnancy.

Why the above inspired this post will become clear in a moment. But for now, let's jump back in time a bit.

Baba G had a single-artery umbilical cord (also known as "SUA")—most normal umbilical cords have two arteries. If you were to Google this condition, you would come across awful and scary descriptions of deformities that can accompany an SUA diagnosis. That is why Google is a pregnant woman's worst enemy.

I tried my best to just listen to the reassurances of my doctors, who said they saw SUAs at least once a week, NEVER encountered a case where the baby had any other issue whatsoever, and that part of the reason why there's so much alarming information out there is because very few pregnant women have access to the kind of specialty ultrasounds that are required to diagnose SUA in the first place. What little research exists is outdated and skewed, yadda yadda. Well that's all fine and good, but I still couldn't stop myself from reading a few message boards where other parents of SUA babies had gathered. About 99% of the stories these parents shared ended happily, and absolutely everyone wished they hadn't spent so much time worrying about the whole thing while they were pregnant. That helped put my mind at ease.

BUT the other thing these stories had in common was that all of the SUA babies came a few weeks before their due dates, and all of the babies were also relatively small. That—coupled with the fact that almost all of my best friends' first babies (products of issue-free, healthy pregnancies) arrived FOUR to FIVE weeks ahead of schedule—had me convinced that Baba G was going to come far in advance of my January 14 due date.

And so I waited. My husband thought I was going to deliver on New Year's Eve. That was my worst nightmare because I thought the "B-team" would be on hand at the hospital that night. But we ushered 2012 in with no drama. Another week passed. And another. My due date came and went. My birthday, January 21, came and went. We celebrated it at a local restaurant (picture below), where the staff was shocked to see me waddle in. I'd been there several times toward the end of my pregnancy and they all knew I was a week overdue at that point. Happy Birthday To Me, indeed.

Seven days overdue. And that's a glare from the candle -- not a cap on my tooth!

By this point I was beside myself with fear and worry. When the hell was Baba G going to get this party started? Was he the ONLY SUA baby on the planet who hadn't come early? I felt a weird mix of emotions: I wanted to finally go into labor... yet I was also scared senseless about going into labor. I seriously starting thinking that I might be pregnant for the rest of my life. Somehow in my head that seemed possible.

As my due date neared, came, and then went, I received the inevitable stream of calls, texts, emails, tweets and Facebook messages, wondering if there was any news. Soon I felt like if I didn't respond to someone's message right away—even if they didn't mention anything about my long-lasting pregnancy and were just wanting to talk about something random—they'd think I was in labor. I hadn't told anyone about the SUA situation, so no one knew how worried I was. Finally it got to the point that I decided to ask everyone to refrain from "checking in." We'd be sure to let our friends and family know when Baba G made his grand debut, but until then, we just needed to take our minds off of the ticking clock as much as possible, thank you very much.


So this is what I would suggest to any well-wishers before "checking in" with someone who's nearing her due date: don't. Unless you are without-a-doubt POSITIVE that she wants to hear from you and/or discuss her impending Big Day, leave her alone. Let her grab some extra sleep, read a magazine, zone out in front of the TV, finish that one last project, or spend some quality time with her significant other. And rest assured the proud parents will let you know when there's something TO know.

As for that stinker Baba G who didn't want to leave the comfy confines of my stomach, the docs had to finally force him out 10 days past my due date. And he weighed in at 8 pounds, 11 ounces. And he was pretty much perfect, if I do say so myself.

A few weeks after he arrived, I went back on the SUA message board that had helped me feel better about things. I wrote out the longest post of all time, sharing the many ways that my situation had been different from others who had posted before me—especially in the fact that BG arrived so late and was no small dude. A worried father-to-be wrote me back and thanked me profusely for my message, since his wife was also overdue with an SUA baby and they were freaking out.

Now that six months have passed, I think it's kind of funny how the situation has completely flipped. Instead of me not wanting anyone to "check in," I'm sure my friends and family members are wishing *I* would stop "checking in" with email upon email filled with pictures of Baba G!

But seriously, even if the SUA thing hadn't been a factor, I think I still would've been very much on edge during the days leading up to my due date and wouldn't have wanted to talk to many people outside of my husband. I'd love to hear if anyone felt the exact opposite during the final days of their pregnancies. I wish I were more like you non-worriers!

Unsolicited Advice: Ladies, Flex Those Wrists and Stretch Those Fingers!

The culprit (see the V-hold?)

About a week after Baba G was home from the hospital, I started waking up unable to move my arms, wrists, hands, or fingers. At all. I mean, they would eventually warm up, but when I initially gained consciousness each day, it was like I was paralyzed.

I assumed this was some weird side-effect of having a C-section. Because of my The Less You Know™ approach toward labor, I hadn't read anything about what happens after you have to have a C-section (much less go through old-fashioned labor), so since the lower half of my body had blown up to resemble a character from The Nutty Professor or The Klumps and my docs said THAT was normal, I figured all the upper-body pain might be just the way it was after a C-section as well.

But I was wrong, because after two weeks, all of my Klumps-like swelling disappeared, but the pain in my wrists and fingers got worse and worse. When the day came that I nearly collapsed in agony after BG kicked my wrist while I was changing him—and then a few hours later I screamed and broke down sobbing after barely hitting my wrist against the washing machine—I knew something was drastically wrong.

I told one of my friends who has three kids about this, and she said, "Well it's probably from supporting BG's head and carrying him and all that."

DUH.

Unfortunately, by that point in time my situation couldn't be remedied without outside assistance. Baba was only seven weeks old, but I could barely lift him, that's how bad my wrists hurt and how weak my hands had become. I couldn't use the can opener on my dog's food. I couldn't screw off the top of the OJ carton. I couldn't reach for anything. It was ridiculous.

I went to my doctor and she knew what it was right away: "Mother's Thumb," or De Quervain's tendonitis. She said that really the only thing that was going to help me was going to physical therapy. A cortisone shot, which sometimes helps those with Carpal Tunnel syndrome (which is very different from De Quervain's), wouldn't really be the way to go for this situation. But she did prescribe these NSAID patches for me to stick onto my left wrist (which was worse than my right... probably because I'm not only left-handed, but I'd also broken that wrist in the past) overnight to help manage the pain.

After a few months of going to physical therapy three times a week, I was then advised to go to occupational therapy (hand and wrist specialists) so that they could make me a customized splint, which is the white thing below on the left. The other one is what I wear to bed on my right wrist and I just got it from Walgreens. The purpose of these lovely accessories is to force your wrist and thumb joints to rest—to stop them from moving. I knew that I was curling my wrists up while I was sleeping and just making the situation worse, so the splints were a must at night.

Yeah, I'm fancy.

I was told to wear the custom splint as much as I could—meaning as close to 24/7 as possible—for SIX WEEKS. As you may know, I write for a living, so can you even imagine typing with that white thing on? It cuts off halfway up my thumb. So I rebelled and didn't wear the splint except for overnight. And I made hardly any progress.

Now, for the past month, I've been behaving. I wear the splint all the time (I've gotten used to typing with it on) except for when I'm carrying BG... because I DID wear it when I carried him and it actually cracked a bit in the thumb area. What can I say, the kid's a fatty. But as you can see from this picture of us below (from two months ago—he's even bigger now), the "V-hold" would be impossible to do with the splint on. The V-hold is also what got me into trouble in the first place, though.

Try not to be jealous of my ratty, inside-out wrist bands, please. Or my beauty. Or hairstyle.

So what can YOU do, or tell your pregnant wife/friend/relative to do, to avoid my fate? Start exercising your wrists, thumbs and fingers so that they don't suffer the shock of a new repetitive motion and/or can handle the weight of a baby's head while feeding once your little guy/gal arrives. Here are a bunch of sample exercises (I've done all of these in PT, here's the illustrated graphic) that will help. Your wrists and hands will get stronger and more limber and then the tendons will have less of a chance of becoming inflamed once you start carrying a baby around everywhere. And when the baby does come, remember to avoid the V-hold as much as you can. Having one arm/hand around his middle and back and one under his butt is better instead of the V-hold under both of his armpits.

I was feeling REALLY down about myself because of all of this. I thought I was in good shape before and during my pregnancy, but this De Quervain's crap really threw me for a loop and made me feel like a loser. Baba G is now five months old and I'm FINALLY starting to feel like things are getting better. I wear the splint as much as possible, take care to not make the V-hold/pinching motion that aggravates the problem, do exercises whenever I have the splint off, and am down to only one PT session per week.

Don't be like me! Head this problem off, ladies, because apparently up to 50% of new moms get it. I wish someone had told me about this BEFORE Baba G made his debut, so that's why I'm writing about it today. Since I'm sure I've scared the living hell out of any pregnant woman who's reading this, I'll save my stories of woe about the tendonitis in my FEET for another day...

Yes, I'm falling apart.

"Life IS Pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

If you'd like to read more about what De Quervain's is and how to head it off or treat it, here's a Wall Street Journal article about it, as well as another good article I found (yes, it's pimping for some gel/cream but that stuff was actually recommended to me too, and my PT place uses it, so it's legit).

Has anyone else out there suffered through De Quervain's? Make an old, decrepit lady feel better, won't you?

Unsolicited Advice: Use Dreft for Everything. EVERYTHING.

When I was thinking about starting up this blog, one of the first "columns" of sorts that came to mind was one where I'd give unsolicited advice. Not the kind about how to parent your kid or anything like that, because lord knows there are enough people with opinions out there who will start hollering at you the second they see you with a baby. To those people I would like to say: SHUT IT. Every mom and every dad—with the exception of 90% of reality TV stars—knows what's best for their own children, thank you very much.

What kind of advice am I going to dole out then? The kind I wish someone had given me. The totally random kind. The kind that tells you how Dreft is made by magical elves and/or wizards who've come up with a way for you to turn back the clock on junior's poo- and spit-up-covered onesie. Spray said onesie with some Dreft stain-treater, throw it in the wash with Dreft detergent, and voila! It's like new once again.

Let's do this.

I don't know what it is about baby, um, by-products, but dammit if they don't ruin everything. One day I am going to do a post about the set-up I have when I feed Baba G, and you are going to die laughing at my TEN THOUSAND BLANKETS I have covering every square inch of my bedroom. Why do I go to such ridiculous lengths? Because the one time I didn't, BG threw up all over and it of course leaked onto our mattress and one of my nice pillowcases, and then when I used my normal stain remover on it, it didn't work and now I'm bitter.

But what DOES work? Dreft. After The Bed Incident I started using Dreft on my own clothes that were decimated by Baba G's many types of leaks. My skin will break out if the wind blows on it the wrong way, so I was really paranoid about using a new detergent (I've used Era since I can remember), but lo and behold, I've had no reactions to it.

As I tend to do, I proceeded to go overboard and buy every single product that Dreft makes. ALL OF THE DREFT. That's what I bought.

Got that one. And that one. And that one . . .

You laugh at me now, but just wait until your fancy duvet cover or the sweater you love or the pants you just bought or some other thing you'd like to use/wear again gets covered in nasty baby goo. Then you will be running to your closest grocery store and crying because they're out of Dreft (this actually happened to me—curse you, CVS!) and wishing you'd stocked up like I told you to.