Monthly Archives: March 2011

BioGaia Tells Colic Who’s Boss!

Samara is a colicky baby, there is no doubt. I’ve been at my wits end here trying to to soothe her. There have been days where she’s cried for over five hours. It’s rough. One of my Canadian readers, Sara, suggested I try BioGaia Probiotic drops for colic.

I googled them, ordered them to my local pharmacy and gave them a go.
I am happy to report that they resulted in this:

And then this:

So thank you BioGaia and thank you Sara for the recommendation! My baby feels better and I have a sense of relief.

Ari is in The Eye of The Beholder

The other day, Ari was finishing up his french toast. He left the crusts, as usual, and said:

“I all done Mommy!”
“Okay,” I said ‘Throw the rest in the garbage.”
“No!” He shot back “I not doing that! I don’t think so!”
Taken aback, I said:
“Don’t you talk to me like that!”
“I don’t think so!” He repeated defiantly.
“If you say it again, you’re going to time out!” I knew what was coming next. Predictably, he said:
“I DON’T THINK SO!”
I immediately picked him up and sat him in time out for two minutes. I set the stove timer so I would know when those two minutes were up. When the timer beeped, I removed him and asked:
“Do you know why you went to time out?”
“I don’t know.” He replied innocently.
I knelt down on my knees and looked him in the eyes.
“You don’t talk to mommy like that. You have to respect mommy.”
“Your eyes are Ari.” I couldn’t quite understand what he said at the point so I asked:
“What? My eyes are angry?”
“No!” He shook his head “Your eyes are ARI!”
I paused, and then it occurred to me, he couldn’t focus on anything I was saying because he saw his own reflection in my eyes.

“Oh, you mean you see your reflection in my eyes?” I clarified.
“Yes!” He confirmed.
“That must be distracting.” I said.
“Yes!” He agreed.
“Okay, well…you need to respect mommy. Can you say it?”
“Respect mommy!” He repeated diligently.
Ari is in the eye of the beholder.

Disciplining Other People’s Kids

I was on a playdate the other day, and I did something that I try to avoid; I intervened in an argument between Ari and another kid. I always feel strange when I’m telling another person’s kid what to do. It doesn’t seem right, I didn’t give birth to this child, I don’t tell him/her what to do on a daily basis, what makes today any different? Why should I have the right to tell this kid to cut it out?


Back to the playdate. It was a situation in which both kids weren’t sharing a coveted item, and something needed to be done. Afterward, I asked the kid’s mom:

“I’m sorry, is it okay that I did that? I didn’t mean to tell your kid what to do.”
“No!” She said sincerely “I’m glad you intervened, I have a lot of friends that just sit there and don’t do anything, and it really bugs me. Thank you for doing that.”

I felt a little better about it after that. But I have to say, there is a fine line. Here is when I think it’s appropriate to step in and intervene in a conflict between your child and someone else’s:


1. When there is a physical fight.
2. When there is a verbal disagreement that doesn’t appear to be working itself out on it’s own.
3. If your kid does something that you don’t agree with/allow him to do at home.

Essentially, unless the kids are beating the crap out of one another or verbally abusing each other, let them work it out on their own.

It really bugs me when someone tells my kid what to do if it’s not necessary and doesn’t help the situation at hand.

I am now stepping down from my soapbox.

How do you feel about disciplining other people’s kids?

Dinosaur Art at Barking Cat Studio

I’ve written a bunch about the exorbitant amount of money that Pre-School costs. Recently, I’ve been seeking out low cost classes as an alternative to Pre-School. A friend of mine, who also has two kids similar ages to Ari and Samara, recommended art classes at a place near us called Barking Cat Studio. She said the classes were affordable and it was an all around great time.
I decided to check it out.

I went to their site and gave the number a call.

Within an hour, Karen (the founder of Barking Cat Studio) called me back. Karen had a vibrant voice and a great energy. I immediately got a good vibe over the phone. She said they had a class on Friday where the kids were making “dinosaur art.”
“Perfect!” I said “Ari loves dinosaurs.”
I asked how much this class would be.
“Normally classes are $25, but since it’s your first class, we’ll give you $10 off.”
“Thanks so much!” I said getting excited already.
Friday arrived, my mom watched Samara and off we went to Barking Cat Studio.

What a great time it was!



One of the great things about Barking Cat Studio, is that you get to take all your art work home. They call it “Make it & Take it Arts & Crafts.” Here’s what Ari made today:


Karen Merbaum, Barking Cat’s Founder, has worked in graphic design for over 20 years. Barking Cat Studio used to be her graphic design office. One day, she had an epiphany. She no longer wanted to practice graphic design, she wanted to use her artistic background to work with children.

A year and half ago she transformed her space into what is now Barking Cat Studio. She is an incredibly talented artist. In fact, she made this desk:

We had a wonderful time at Barking Cat Studio, and I’m sure we’ll be back!

For more information on classes at Barking Cat Studio, click on the Make it and Take it Bag below!


Pilgrimage to Fix a Birth Certificate

This morning I called 311 to inquire further about how to fix the error on Samara’s birth certificate . As it turns out, I don’t have to go to the dreaded Department of Vital Records. The correction form can be submitted directly to the hospital where Samara was born. So off we went, incorrect birth certificate in hand, on a journey to the Upper East side of Manhattan where Samara’s birth hospital was.

Since we were taking the train, I told Ari we should take the stroller. He objected and insisted on taking his scooter. I said that was okay, as long as he didn’t ask me to carry him at any point during the day. The deal was he had to ride or walk with his scooter the whole way. He agreed.


When we got to the train station, I asked a random stranger to take a picture of us to document the journey. I was thankful that he didn’t steal Wil’s expensive camera. I’m sure we looked like tourists even though we live here.


At this point we were ready to take the elevator to the 4/5 train but then we saw this terrible sign:
You can’t see it, can you? Here’s a closer look:

I was actually glad that we took the scooter at this point because I didn’t have to lug the stroller (with Ari in it) and the baby up these stairs:

Ari hapilly walked up the stairs. He was so psyched to get on the train, that he didn’t care about the copious amount of stairs he had to climb.

When we boarded the train, Wil’s “fancy” camera died, so I used my camera phone for the rest of the pictures to document our journey. Here’s Ari looking stoic on the subway:

When we got out of the subway, it was raining. Ari boarded his scooter and we zoomed up the street into the hospital. We made it to the Birth Registrar!

Cynthia, the Birth Registrar, told me that I didn’t have to pay a thing to fix the birth certificate since it was a hospital error! I was excited. We called Mint and decided to celebrate at a kid-friendly diner near the hospital. Despite the fact that the diner was only a few blocks away, it took us half an hour to meet her there. Traveling with two small children takes infinitely longer than traveling by one’s self.

Ari made a friend at the restaurant:


By the time lunch was over Ari was tired, Samara was cranky, Mint had to go to work and it was raining. All those factors considered, we did the unthinkable for me, we took a taxi home! I know, it’s expensive and I never do it. As we were standing on the corner, a woman went to get in the taxi that I hailed first. She wasn’t trying to steal it, she obviously didn’t see us because she was holding an enormous umbrella that blocked her view. I offered to share the ride downtown with her.

Ari was excited to be in a car of any kind.

On her way out, at 35th Street and Lexington, she handed me a $20 for the ride. I asked her if she wanted change, her ride was only $7.00, but she said “keep it!” I thanked her profusely as she exited the cab.

We’re home now, Samara is sleeping and Ari is watching Max and Ruby. I feel a strange sense of accomplishment. I went on a mecca with two small children, I avoided a government office and a bogus fee, and I am one step away from receiving a correct birth certificate for my almost seven week old baby! Lastly, I accomplished all these things in a torrential downpour.

Yes!

Sometimes I amaze myself. I had an epiphany this morning. It takes me a zillion years to leave the house every morning. 50 % of the time is spent cajoling/forcing Ari into putting on his clothes. This morning, as we were eating breakfast, it dawned on me. I can put him in his clothes for the next day the night before. Here’s what he’s wearing today:

I put him in this outfit last night after he took a bath because I couldn’t be bothered to find pajamas in the rubble that is the clean laundry pile.

I’m all set! All I need to do is put his shoes and jacket on and we’re good to go.

He doesn’t wear jeans anyway, so all of his pants are pajama-like texture. Why didn’t I think of this before?

Random question(s) of the day: if you could go to work in pajamas, would you? What are your favorite PJs?

I Didn’t Know I Had An Easy Baby, Until I Had a Colicky One

You know that expression “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?” Well, it’s true for me at this very moment.

When I had Ari, I didn’t know a thing about babies. I had some babysitting experience with older kids, but no one under the age of five. Suddenly, in 2008, I found myself with a tiny being who cried and pooped a lot and I had to figure out how to care for him.

At first, in the hospital, he was resistant to nursing. He was in the NICU for three days and the nurses gave him formula. Getting him to latch on was a challenge. Fortunately for him, he had a persistent Jewish mother who would not stop until he ate her boob.

Once he figured out how to latch on, he was hooked and nursed continuously, 15 minutes on each boob every three hours, for one year.

Flash forward to 2011. Samara came barreling into the world on January 22nd, and I thought to myself “I know about babies, I’ve had one before. What could be so different?” Well the answer to that question is: “Everything.”

As soon as I pushed her out, I initiated breast feeding right away. I was thrilled when she latched on immediately. It wasn’t a struggle like it was with Ari. I spoke too soon. After latching on, she would eat for five minutes and then pass out.

I thought maybe this was just a phase. Infants don’t eat very much, and after all, as the doctor in the hospital told me, they don’t need to, their stomachs are the size of a grape. But her boob snacking continued on.

She is now six weeks. She’s still a “boob snacker,” but what’s worse, is that every night from
7pm - 11pm she screams bloody murder. Yes, for four hours straight every single night, no matter what I do, nurse her, hold her, change her, rock her, she just screams. I guess this is what they call “colic.”

I had no idea what colic was, because Ari never had it. Let me tell you, it is not fun. It’s not easy for me and it’s definitely not fun for her. I am going out of my mind. By the end of the colicky period, I have a headache, and my sanity is questionable.

I had no idea Ari was an “easy” baby. To be fair, no baby is easy per say, and Ari had, and still has, major sleep issues. But he was never colicky.

Colic is intense. I keep telling myself, this too shall pass. I’ll tell her about it when she’s a teenager.

Was your kid colicky? Is your baby colicky now? Were you colicky? Colicky is a funny word!

I Love a Good Government Office Error

I was thrilled yesterday when Samara’s birth certificate arrived. I tore open the envelope excitedly and surveyed its contents. There was her name, the hospital she was born in, and her time of birth: 10:07 am. Wait a second, I thought to myself, that is completely wrong. She was born at 8:06 pm. 10:07 is not even close.

My friend Josina pointed out that this must happen a lot, errors associated with birth certificates, because The Department of Vital Records encloses a correction form in the envelope with the birth certificate. In fact, there was an error on her son, Nelson’s, birth certificate.

Okay, I thought to myself, I’ll just fill out the correction form and send it back, no problem. But then I noticed that the good old Department of Vital records was asking for a processing fee of $15. $15 to fix their error, not mine? I don’t think so.

I had two more cognizant individuals supervise me fill out the birth certificate form after I had my baby so that a situation like this would not occur.

I appreciate the fact that people make mistakes, and I’m sure the workers at The Department of Vital Records fill out hundreds of forms a day. But what am I paying $15 for? Someone else’s mistake? Printer toner and paper to print my official document with?

Plus, getting the post office to mail the form back is going to be so annoying with a newborn and a 2 3/4 year old.

Tell me about your last governmental office experience!

Everyone Needs a Job!

The cats are no longer hungry…

Wil Kisses Samara

He loves babies and the elderly…