I posed a similar question on a local moms message board that I belong to. Here's the more expanded version of what I wrote there:
There has been an ongoing discussion in my house for about a month. My husband and I are currently banging our heads against the wall over this issue. Every few days, I'll come to Husband with a serious, focused expression on my face and say, urgently, I really need to talk to you. His voice will adopt a concerned tone, and he'll ask what's wrong, and what it is that I need to talk to him about, and I tell him and the concern disappears and gets replaced with annoyance. It's about the whole bike thing again.
We are trying to decide if a) we should get something for our bikes so we can ride with Toddler (I guess I can't call him Baby anymore, so we'll officially change it to Toddler on here), and b) if we were to get something, should we get a trailer or a baby seat.
I've been to several bike stores and talked to several helpful employees, as well as one bike store where NOBODY talked to me until I was on my way out the door, despite me being in there for 10 minutes and hanging around the baby seat with the most dumbfounded expression I could muster and I've had mixed responses to the question: What is least likely to kill my child? Some bike store employees have said they'd feel more comfortable with a trailer; some have advocated the baby seat.
If I were to make a practical list, the trailer wins out because:
1. Micah could read his books or have his cup with him on the ride
2. It's lower to the ground, so he wouldn't fall far in the event of a crash
3. Many trailers turn into strollers, which would be practical for things like biking to local museums or parks or farmers markets
4. Many trailers have some sort of storage space
5. Trailers can seat 2 children
Despite all those pros, instinctively (having never tried either), I am more comfortable with the seat. Having biked to class the first week, I noticed that I did a lot of maneuvering on and off of the sidewalk, and I think that would be lost with a trailer. And I think maneuverability will be key when riding in the city, which is what we would be doing. The sidewalks on many parts of A Very Busy Street don't seem like they'd be able to accommodate a trailer, and I don't think I'd be comfortable riding on the road on A Very Busy Street. From my neighborhood I'd have to be on A Very Busy Street for some amount of time. Plus, each day we become more and more sure we're done having kids, so there's not really a need to transport multiple children.
So despite these concerns, we're still having a discussion as to whether or not we should get something. The pros are:
1. We could ride to the grocery store, library, farmer's markets, museums, parks, rather than drive
2. Exercise
3. We'd be modeling to Toddler in some small way that we don't need to be completely dependent on cars. I think that if we start showing him now, rather than when he's 8 that there are alternatives, it might end up being the norm for him.
4. He'd probably enjoy it (Husband interjects: He'd probably enjoy playing with knives as well, but we're sure as hell not going to let him play with knives.)
5. My mother is an avid biker and baby seats and trailers are designed to easily go from one bike to another, so it's something she could do with him as well
The cons are:
1. He could die
2. He could be horribly injured
Neither of us wants to be responsible for the death or injury of our child, especially one that we could have prevented. And the death or horrible permanent injury of my child is certainly a catalyst for my crippling anxiety and a good argument for prudence. But, I also don't want to live my life in fear that something I do could possibly be terrible for my child. If you break it down like that, there are so many reasons not to do anything, a gazillion reasons to stay indoors every day. I spent too many years living like that, and I'm working very hard to stop. It's certainly not the life I want to live or model for my kid.
I have found the following websites http://www.whycycle.co.uk/cycling_with_children/baby_carrying_seats/
http://www.ibike.org/education/infant.htm
that address some of my concerns, but we're still not convinced either way. We're not risk takers over here, so doing something like putting Toddler on a bike would be a huge step for us.
This is the sort of thing were prayer and logic elude me. Should we give up the idea because we can't come to a consensus, or should we be persistent? Do the cons win, or are the pros worth risking?
27 June 2008
20 June 2008
Gems
My mother pays me $15/hour to scan photos. Our home warranty payment is due in a couple of weeks, so I'm working through the 1991-1994 box.
Christmas, 1991, when my mother accidentally got me Christian mystery novels.
Christmas, 1993
My 13th birthday
Thanksgiving, 1993
Me, before the 8th Grade Dance
My Goth Sister
Christmas, 1991, when my mother accidentally got me Christian mystery novels.
Christmas, 1993
My 13th birthday
Thanksgiving, 1993
Me, before the 8th Grade Dance
My Goth Sister
Truth, or stupid babies need the most love, part 5
My kid has words now. He says ball, down, done, dog, and today he said beep after Husband said it first. Though his spoken vocabulary is somewhat limited, he will not shut up.
Ball was his first word, but dog is by far his favorite. He doesn't pronounce dog the way most people would. Instead he draws out the word and mangles sounds a bit so that it comes out sounding like daw-aug.
He says it when he hears a dog, sees a dog, sees a house where a dog lives, sees a neighbor who happens to own a dog or two or sees any other type of animal or mode of transportation. A typical day goes something like this:
Hears a dog bark at breakfast: daw-aug!
Me: Yes, Baby, that's a dog barking.
Reading The Very Busy Spider, the page with the dog: daw-aug!
Reading The Very Busy Spider, the page with any other animal: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a spider-sheep-goat-cow-horse-rooster-cat-owl.
Getting into the car and seeing the neighbor's cat: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a cat.
Going on a walk and seeing a squirrel or bird: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a squirrel. And that's a bird.
Pointing at the animals on his sheets: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's an elephant. No, Baby, that's a monkey. No, Baby, that's a giraffe.
Pointing at the animals on his wall: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a zebra. No, Baby. That's an elephant. No, Baby, that's a whale.
Playing with his Ark: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's Noah. No, Baby, that's Mrs. Noah.
Climbing on the unused stroller: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby, that's a stroller.
And so on.
The other day Husband and I had an almost tense discussion about my conversations with Baby.
I think you're being too hard on him, he chastised.
But if I don't tell him the right words, how will he know? I argued.
Sweetie. He sighed. He's a baby. He sighed again. He'll get there.
But I don't want him using the wrong vocabulary. I don't see any harm in correcting him.
Okay, he said, in that way that people say okay when they know their position is the correct one but they say okay so the other party will stop talking and let them go back to watching soccer undisturbed.
Leighann agrees with Husband on this one. Eh, she said. Dog, cat, four legs, tail, who cares? I pictured her shrugging and taking another sip of wine.
I'm not correcting him because I have a paranoia that him not correctly identifying a cat from a dog or a knife from a dog at 15 months will keep him out of Harvard. I correct him in order to instruct and converse with him, and I always tell him when he's right.
But it does get old sometimes. Sometimes, he'll point to a squirrel for the 80th time on our stroll to the playground, say daw-aug!, and I'll find myself sighing and saying, yes, Baby. That's a dog.
Ball was his first word, but dog is by far his favorite. He doesn't pronounce dog the way most people would. Instead he draws out the word and mangles sounds a bit so that it comes out sounding like daw-aug.
He says it when he hears a dog, sees a dog, sees a house where a dog lives, sees a neighbor who happens to own a dog or two or sees any other type of animal or mode of transportation. A typical day goes something like this:
Hears a dog bark at breakfast: daw-aug!
Me: Yes, Baby, that's a dog barking.
Reading The Very Busy Spider, the page with the dog: daw-aug!
Reading The Very Busy Spider, the page with any other animal: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a spider-sheep-goat-cow-horse-rooster-cat-owl.
Getting into the car and seeing the neighbor's cat: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a cat.
Going on a walk and seeing a squirrel or bird: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a squirrel. And that's a bird.
Pointing at the animals on his sheets: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's an elephant. No, Baby, that's a monkey. No, Baby, that's a giraffe.
Pointing at the animals on his wall: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's a zebra. No, Baby. That's an elephant. No, Baby, that's a whale.
Playing with his Ark: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby. That's Noah. No, Baby, that's Mrs. Noah.
Climbing on the unused stroller: daw-aug!
Me: No, Baby, that's a stroller.
And so on.
The other day Husband and I had an almost tense discussion about my conversations with Baby.
I think you're being too hard on him, he chastised.
But if I don't tell him the right words, how will he know? I argued.
Sweetie. He sighed. He's a baby. He sighed again. He'll get there.
But I don't want him using the wrong vocabulary. I don't see any harm in correcting him.
Okay, he said, in that way that people say okay when they know their position is the correct one but they say okay so the other party will stop talking and let them go back to watching soccer undisturbed.
Leighann agrees with Husband on this one. Eh, she said. Dog, cat, four legs, tail, who cares? I pictured her shrugging and taking another sip of wine.
I'm not correcting him because I have a paranoia that him not correctly identifying a cat from a dog or a knife from a dog at 15 months will keep him out of Harvard. I correct him in order to instruct and converse with him, and I always tell him when he's right.
But it does get old sometimes. Sometimes, he'll point to a squirrel for the 80th time on our stroll to the playground, say daw-aug!, and I'll find myself sighing and saying, yes, Baby. That's a dog.
more. eat. please.
About a month ago language exploded in my household. We've been working on signs with him since he was about five months, and he's consistently produced more, milk, done, and eat. We've had less success with please, thank you, bath, ball, book, sleep, mama, and dad. On a Tuesday night at a Mexican restaurant, something connected. Around 7:30 p.m., he asked for more. I asked him if he could say please, showing him the sign again. He enthusiastically started rubbing his open palm on his chest in a circle. My mother and I got very excited, as he'd never, ever done that before. We clapped enthusiastically and gave him more and thanked him for his politeness.
A few minutes later, he cocked his head to the left and rested it on his palm. "Do you think he's trying to tell us he wants to go to sleep?" I asked.
"Well, he does look tired," my mother commented.
"Baby, do you want to go to sleep?" I asked, making the sign. He rested his head on his palm.
"Okay, well, you can't do that now. We're eating dinner. Plus you have to go home and take your bath." I made circles with my fists over my chest. He smiled, and his fists vigorously circled his chest.
The next day, he asked for more at dinner. "Can you say please?" I asked and made the sign.
He replied: More. Eat. Please.
His language skills aren't limited to signs now. He can also shake his head no and point to things in response to questions. For example, Husband or I might say, "Okay, baby, do you want up, down, Dad, Mom, your cup, The Foot Book, Sock Monkey, banana?" or any other thing that he could possibly intend. He'll smile and shake his head so hard that I worry about brain damage. Or this afternoon, when he wouldn't stop crying. He'd screamed at me for upwards of ten minutes because I wouldn't give him more milk. Nothing I did calmed him. By the time Husband walked in the door, I was on my back, on the floor, head on a pillow contemplating running away to Italy. Baby waddled over to him, still screaming and pathetically held out his arms for up. Husband picked him up and he nestled into his dad's arms and glared at me from above.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Husband cooed. "Why are you crying?"
He sniffed, then gulped, and pointed at me.
A few minutes later, he cocked his head to the left and rested it on his palm. "Do you think he's trying to tell us he wants to go to sleep?" I asked.
"Well, he does look tired," my mother commented.
"Baby, do you want to go to sleep?" I asked, making the sign. He rested his head on his palm.
"Okay, well, you can't do that now. We're eating dinner. Plus you have to go home and take your bath." I made circles with my fists over my chest. He smiled, and his fists vigorously circled his chest.
The next day, he asked for more at dinner. "Can you say please?" I asked and made the sign.
He replied: More. Eat. Please.
His language skills aren't limited to signs now. He can also shake his head no and point to things in response to questions. For example, Husband or I might say, "Okay, baby, do you want up, down, Dad, Mom, your cup, The Foot Book, Sock Monkey, banana?" or any other thing that he could possibly intend. He'll smile and shake his head so hard that I worry about brain damage. Or this afternoon, when he wouldn't stop crying. He'd screamed at me for upwards of ten minutes because I wouldn't give him more milk. Nothing I did calmed him. By the time Husband walked in the door, I was on my back, on the floor, head on a pillow contemplating running away to Italy. Baby waddled over to him, still screaming and pathetically held out his arms for up. Husband picked him up and he nestled into his dad's arms and glared at me from above.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Husband cooed. "Why are you crying?"
He sniffed, then gulped, and pointed at me.
14 June 2008
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