Two Sides of a Conversation

This morning Hilary wasn't feeling well. So she sent me a textessage asking if I, too, was feeling crummy.

Later in the morning, Brynna asks to talk to Dada. So Hilary types in a text message into her phone and lets Brynna send it off.

Here is the conversation from my perspective:

9:06 AM: how're you feeling today? I'm so nauseous.

9:42 AM: hello daddy!

This damn near gave me a heart attack!

Packaging Waste

Amazon.com has made some limited progress with its Frustration-Free Packaging program. This is a good thing by many measures, and I wish it were more widespread. I wish they could extend it to all their subsidiaries, like Diapers.com

As most of you know, Brynna has been in gDiapers practically since she was born. We had many reasons to go this route over traditional disposables, and one of those reasons was the green-ness of it: processing diapers via the toilet and washing machine was much better than simply throwing diaper after diaper in the trash. We have for a long while received bulk shipments of gDiaper inserts directly from the manufacturer. Recently, they discontinued this direct-by-mail program, and shifted the service over to Diapers.com. We shrugged our shoulders and switched over too, and began receiving our shipments from them, instead.

By and large, the change has been transparent to us, but for one large frustration: the packaging. gDiapers would send us four packages of inserts packed tight into a 12" x 12" x 15" cardboard case. We've got a lot of those boxes in storage: they're a good size and very sturdy. Diapers.com, on the other hand, feels compelled to send us the exact same gDiapers case inside of a bigger box!



The Diapers.com outer case is another sturdy cardboard box, 16" x 16" x 19", and the space between is taken up with bags of air. If you work out the volume, you'll find that the Diapers.com case is, literally, twice as large.

And why is Diapers.com adding considerable expense to send off a pre-packaged product in a large and redundant box? I wish I knew. I could think of a few reasons, and none make much sense. The first is that they needed a place to put the packing slip, and couldn't simply stick it inside the the already-closed gDiaper box. This is a fairly ridiculous reason, since they could just slap it on the outside of the box in one of those plastic envelopes. Not a great solution, true, but better than sending off an extra few dollars of packing materials. A second possible reason is that sending gDiapers is new for them, and they simply haven't set things up properly yet. But this is a business, and I'd expect them to have their act together after a few months. The third, and most craven, reason I can think of is that Diapers.com is so vain and so insecure in their branding that they couldn't bear to ship a box that has someone else's logo on it.

For what little it is worth, I have contacted Diapers.com and told them about the absurdity of this situation. The customer service rep was very polite, and told me she'd send it on up the line. I'm not too hopeful. I think this irks me enough that I'll drop them entirely and source our gDiapers locally. We can get the same case from a local store, it just costs a bit more.

Big Steps!

Two big events in little B's life today:

She went all the way underwater at her swim lesson today

and...

She pooped in the potty!

Jeez, before you know it she'll be shaving...

The Cover-Milker

Brynna was trying hard to chivvy me out of bed this morning so we could all have waffles together.

I, in the midst of enjoying my only weekend off for at least the next five weeks, was somewhat resistant.

B was not to be denied. "Get up, Mama, get up!

Then she started throwing my clothes on the bed (admittedly, they were close at hand, since I'd dropped them on the floor when getting into bed the night before).

"Here your pants, Mama!" she crowed, tossing a pair of running pants in the general vicinity of my face.

"And here your cover-milker!" she shouted, launching a bra onto the bed.

She was somewhat taken aback by the snorts of laughter that started eminating from under the covers.

I suppose, from Brynna's perspective, "cover-milker" describes a bra's function to a T. We've had a good long run of breastfeeding, the two of us. But I think we're almost done. She's no longer asking on any sort of schedule, and we've gone as long as a week in between sessions. (She tells me there's still milk there, though.) Mostly it's a quick drive-by, lasting about ten seconds—just long enough to reassure herself that she can. Every time she nurses, I think that it could be the last time. And one of these days, I'm going to be right.

Breastfeeding B has been such a cornerstone of our relationship that it makes me a little teary to think about not doing it anymore. It's something I've been able to do for her (and with her) despite working crazy hours as a medical student and a resident, and as she's become more mobile and busy it's become one of the few times that she sits still and lets me snuggle her. On the other hand, after carrying her around inside me for just shy of forty weeks, and then nursing for two and a half years, I think I'm ready to have my body to myself again. Though I suppose there's no harm in letting her refer to my bras as cover-milkers. It's a much nicer word!

Slippers

There's been a bevy of new footwear in the house.

A month ago Brynna got some adorable LL Bean slippers with puppy dogs on them. (You may vomit now if you wish, but they actually are very cute and not too obnoxious). We soon discovered a problem, however: as like as not, we would bring them with Brynna to Miss A's each morning, then forget to bring them back home that evening! The solution: another pair. Alas, I guess LL Bean had a run on puppies, because there were none left online. So, instead, we opted for kittens. The reasoning, as we explained it to Brynna, was that she has the puppy slippers at home because she has Jasper at home, and the kittens stay at Miss A's because there is a cat there. Apparently this is logical enough to a 2-1/2 year old to avoid the otherwise inevitable "Why."

After five (six, seven?) years, my trusty slippers have finally worn out. I guess it is OK to let go when only 50% of the outer sole remains, and you can easily poke a finger or two in at your toes.
To avoid offending Hilary by buying an exact replacement from LL Bean (leather), I ended up with a pair made by Smartwool. They have synthetic rubber soles, cork and felt insoles, and wool uppers - no leather. Pretty cozy so far. Let's hope they last another five years.

Hilary's father purchased some very serious around-the-house slippers a few days ago. They're booties, but with a sole that can take some abuse. The uppers, which go above the ankle, are down-filled. He was visiting this past weekend, so rather than have them sit in the mail in CT for all weekend doing him no good, he had Zappos send them directly to Concord.

Here's to warm feet!

Brynna and The Big Snow

The book obsession over the last couple of weeks:



Gee, I wonder why?


We have actually run out of room to put snow that we shovel off the driveways and sidewalk. The good thing about this is that the piles almost cover the dead mums that we have thus far failed to move to the compost heap.

The Pacifier Obsession

B: "I'm going to the North Pole with my dolly and all the kiddies. I need my Nuk."

Me: "But you aren't going to sleep! You're just pretending to go to sleep."

B: "Yes I am. I am going to the North Pole and I go to sleep there." Sticks Nuk in mouth, mounts rocking moose with blankets and dolly, puts head down on antlers.

I just don't know how to respond to that.

When Your Kid Pretty Much Calls You A Wuss

"I'm cold!" I said to Brynna this evening, as our house slowly made its way back toward its evening, habitable temperatures.

"Why?" she said, snug in her very stylish jammies-over-turtleneck outfit. "You have a sticker on you to keep you warm. And you have clothes on you to keep you warm."

Who can argue with that logic?