Parenting hacks

In my whopping 15 months of motherhood I’ve adopted a few tricks of the trade. Some I stumbled upon in my own child rearing journey and others were inspired by outside sources, but in the end these have all struck me like little light bulb emojies. I thought they might bring another desperate parent good luck in their time of need and depending on your parenting strategy you just might adopt some too. It takes a village. Share your secrets.

1. If you let your baby play with your phone (like you said you wouldn’t) but freak about the possibility of baby unknowingly speed dialing a work client or ex, then use airplane mode.
I find this works wonders when I need to bribe Lea into the car seat. I let baby play with airplane mode for a tear-free commute, meanwhile I’m not driving with my phone tempting me from the passenger seat. Everybody wins.

2. I.. I mean, Lea has fallen in love with frozen grapes during teething season.. which is not a season but rather the life span of infancy. Poor babies. Help them cope with these healthy, mini popsicles. Mom can volunteer to bite the first half in order to avoid a full grape shooting down into your infant’s throat like a cannon ball. (Sorry. Mom visions…)

3. We’ve become toothbrush hoarders since our kid started teething.  By one year, my daughter was already obsessed with brushing her teeth, or rather chewing on a toothbrush, because she always saw us doing it and it felt damn good on those tortured gums. I couldn’t say no to her grunted requests so I just started buying Lea her own adult-sized tooth brushes. I’m confident that it’s instilling good habits, toothbrushes are cheap, and peace and quiet is priceless.

4. Between the ages of say 6-9 months, when baby was crawling but neither of us were very confident in her abilities, we took great comfort in the Bumbo seat. And when mom realized she could no longer take a five minute shower without the threat of baby crawling under the kitchen sink and ingesting a package of dish detergent candies. (Another vision) we decided that Bumbo bathes, too. While I finally dismounted my hair from the mother bird’s nest on top of my head, baby got to play, in mom’s shadow, in the warm water and enjoy a snack. I strategically feed her the messy foods during shower time so that she stays happy and easy to clean.

5. Speaking of mom’s washing their hair (Myth). Dry shampoo has seriously become a best friend of mine. She’s seen me at my worst and somehow brings a little life back when I need it most. I found this brand on sale one time and it’s kind of saved my self-image.


6. It’s no secret that little ones will often choose bags and boxes over the fancy toy inside. I almost recently convinced myself that I “needed” to drop 20 bucks on some better bath toys for Lea. Then I thought twice and tossed the plastic purse of colorful Velcro curlers into the tub. She likes them more than I do, and they float. As new parents, it’s important to exercise the imagination muscles in preparation for the preschooler parent years. Start now and turn everyday objects into the next best toy set.

Big Kid

Halloween. We really made a comeback from last year's cute-yet-cliche pumpkin pajamas. For 2015, you wobbled around in a fuzzy pink bunny suit, swinging that Energizer drum left and right like you were born for the marching band and powered by a full battery pack of snack-size candy bars. For now you'll have to cling to the satisfaction of collection because consumption is still a few years out.

Yesterday we played dress-up with some new hand-me-downs from Parker, who is pretty equal in age but double-wide in size. It works out well for us. She's a buddah baby. You're a pixie doll. So you and I play dress-up when dad is out. I realize I'm taking advantage of your pint size and compliant demeanor but really, it'd be a shame not to. In a few short years you will have wardrobe full of your own preferences, probably a long list of flannels and Carharts. But for now, you are mine. So we play and mom snaps a hundred new pictures of you, many of them blurry now in the chase of trying to capture your sparkle before you're another second older.

On last night's living room runway you dawned a crochet cap and a silk Asian dress with a hem to your knee and side slits to your diaper. I laughed myself into a fit. You kept pulling the hat off your freshly fluffed hair and handing it back for me to put on you again. I can see different parts of your personality peak at me with new eyes. I've already started filling a treasure box of costumes to feed your imagination and nurture every drop of unabashed innocence bursting from the inevitably unraveling seams of your childhood.

As with any activity, the novelty only lasts so long before it's worn thin and your patience dissipates. I used all the dressing tricks up my sleeve, like putting my hands through the ends of your sleeves to guide your little arms through. Or the top-to-bottom peel strategy provided by the envelope shoulders on onsies (which I only learned to utilize six months ago). But in good time, the game was up.

You shuffled into the kitchen and stood at the sink. "Meh," you repeated in a soft cry. Then you opened 'your drawer' a messy mix of utensils and toys. Reaching in to your elbows, you pulled out a nipple with one hand and it's bottle with the other and held them up to me verbally affirming "meh," just to make sure there was no miscommunication.

And that, all that, was yesterday. You are a bottomless box of surprises these days.

Today we make breakfast in the soft gray light of a rainy Sunday. I swoop you from your banter on the floor and into the highchair clamped to our wooden kitchen table, the one your dad made that time. I buckle you for safety and give you a handful of melon bites before turning back to the stove. We both get to our business. A few minutes later as I conduct the breakfast bit at my station I hear you at yours, happily exerting a soft sound, or two, then three, each in it's own key. It's the first time you're singing a song of your own. I share this time and space with a little girl seranding her thoughts in an original melody. Just me and my little girl, a baby grown and nearly gone.

I also have to say, for the record, that your dance moves are really taking off thanks to regular dance parties on slow weekday afternoons and the wildcard bedtime routine. You have music in your veins and when you bang inanimate objects together you do it with rythym. And when you babble in public strangers approach me to compliment your singing voice because you're harmonizing with the music in the background. Yup, you are definitely mine.