NYC Moms

A Ziploc? For THAT?

At a recent visit to Washington Market Park, I was witness to a most shocking event. A little boy (“The Pee-er”; names have been left out because I can't remember them) of about 4 years of age, was aided by his caregiver (“The Holder”) in the process of peeing into a Ziploc bag (and I checked, this wasn't on Ziploc's list of suggested uses on ziploc.com). The Holder was laughing and joking with other caregivers about how great of an invention it was, and about how The Pee-er was “too wiggly” and had to keep still.  It should be noted that this child was fully potty trained with regular underwear on - this wasn't a training exercise.  Now, I'm fully aware of how painful (for all parties) it can be to extract a child from the playground for a bathroom trip. But this “solution” left me stunned.

The Party's Over. . . (in a good way)

The dreaded 4th birthday party came and went without incident.  We used our building's playroom (free! CNN articles about Manhattan birthday parties be damned) and had 10 kids total, including my son and my niece.  It was a bigger crowd than I had hoped for, considering it was the Saturday before school vacation week. 

Of course, there were some notable moments. About 15 minutes into the party, William informed me that had to poop. For William, it is no small job - it means stripping down to, fittingly enough, his birthday suit.  Not a stitch of clothing, socks, or shoes can remain on, lest the he get poop on them.  So as the party was going on downstairs, I was in the apartment flipping through a magazine, waiting for the magic words, "mummy, you can wipe my bum now".

Because Schools are Important - PS 234 Overcrowding

I got this information from another local mama:

PS234 has experienced overcrowding due to the increase in child age population in Lower Manhattan.  Please help support us in getting the Board of Education to deal with this issue.

Part of the Board of Education's plan for dealing with the increase in child age population in Lower Manhattan was to build a school on Beekman Street (this the the Frank Gehry project that we have all heard so much about). The Beekman school is not the final answer to the overcrowding issue but it is a step in the right direction. Unfortunately the project has been delayed do to funding problems and although construction has resumed as of last week the opening date has been pushed back from 2009 to 2010. In the interim, PS234 will be bearing the brunt of the continuing climb in enrolled students in the area. Although 234 opened the Annex this year to aid in dealing with the increase in student population--the PTA and PS234's principle, Lisa Rippeger are concerned that the Beekman school delay will have immediate and substantial impact on class size in the coming years.

My Life is Like a Jerry Springer Show

My life is like a Jerry Springer show.  My youngest son (Daniel) is 16 months old, and although hitting seems to be fairly common for his age, the frequency has gotten so off the charts that I don't know whether to laugh or cry.  In particular, when his brother (William, almost 4) tells him "no", he morphs from a happy little angel into an NHL goon just dying to get into a fistfight (picture one of the Hanson brothers from the movie Slapshot).         

Yesterday Daniel was playing with Legos, and William was concerned that Daniel might knock over the train station he had built.  So William says "No Daniel!" with the kind of urgency I could only muster in a life or death situation.  Daniel looked up at William, threw down the Legos (akin to dropping the hockey gloves), and started climbing over the train table to get at his brother.  I was honestly laughing so hard that I almost didn't intervene in time. 

Don't get me wrong, I don't like the idea of my kids fighting.  But, William has always been mild-mannered and never went through a hitting phase. Consequently, every time Daniel goes from zero

Male or Female OB? Three's a Crowd

I recently had an early OB appointment that threw me for a loop.  I thought I had booked a female doctor, whom I had selected based solely on location.  When I arrived at the office, the standard urine sample/weight measurement portion of the visit was uneventful. . .until I was brought into the doctor's office and introduced to Dr. John.  With the medical assistant (a student) sitting in the office, he ran through the typical questions: drug use? smoker? previous pregnancies? sex with monkeys?  I was then told that the exam room was in use so I'd have to return to the waiting room.  That's when it really sunk in: Dr. John was my doctor, and not the opening act.   

I checked with the receptionist, who said I had been booked with him - although I was sure I had requested his (female) partner.  Luckily I didn't have too long to think about it before I was taken into the exam room.  The assistant left a johnny for me to change into, helpfully labeled with the "image

Birthday Party Anxiety

I admit it: last night I had an anxiety dream about my soon-to-be-four year old's birthday party.  I was naked in front of 10 preschoolers and their families. . . standing helpless while they laughed at me.  The sad thing is, if that happened at the actual party, it wouldn't even be worst case scenario - at least they were laughing.  My daytime nightmares involve the same audience looking to me for something - anything - to entertain them with, as the parents look at their watches and the kids tug on parents' coats asking, "can we go now"?  I have two kids, two jobs, a husband with a demanding job, and THIS is what my anxiety centers on?  Pathetic, yes. . . but as I write this, I recognize that I should also feel lucky.

I've heard the murmurings about how "out of control" birthday parties have gotten, each one more expensive than the last.  So although I vowed not to be "one of those parents" and spend $300 on some magician, is it really better to spend the $300 on space-themed crap from OrientalTrading.com?  Somewhere along the way I've equated "expensive entertainment" and "expensive location" with "out of control", when really,