Mother’s Little Helpers
Friday, March 27th, 2009I am by no means a model parent. I lack patience. I refuse to wear mom jeans, I swear profusely and I exposed my baby to the music of 50 Cent while she was still in the womb.
However, I have learned a thing or two in the last ten months. Mostly, that modern technology is a perfectly acceptable alternative to hard or unpleasant work.
Without further introduction, my Top Five Mother’s Little Helpers.
The Diaper Genie II
To the uninitiated, a Diaper Genie is a bin for soiled diapers. The killer feature is (and I apologize for the choice of words here) a sphincter, through which the diaper is pushed. The sphincter snaps shut, sealing in the odor. I suppose the scat of all omnivores offends the nose but the smell of baby poop is especially appalling because it emanates from a being so lovable and innocent. How could someone so angelic unleash such great evil? I salute you, oh Diaper Genie, tamer of the fetid.
Video Monitor
We started off with the camera attached to the railing of the crib. Then Kea started pulling herself up, plucking the camera off its hook and munching on it as a pre-nap snack. This would all be very amusing to watch but the monitor system was expensive and certainly not saliva-proof so I moved the camera up, way up, above the window. It now looks over the crib, panoptic and inaccessible. Rightly so, Kea stares up at the steady green light as though it were a god.
Clothing with Ears
Every hood is an opportunity for ears. Rounded, bear-like ears. Kea is at least twice as fetching when she’s all bundled up in her fuzzy pink bear suit. What’s that you say? Annoyed I haven’t managed to select a pastry in the five minutes I’ve been waiting in line directly in front of the pastry case? But look, ears! On my baby! Impossibly cute.
Head Rest Mirror
Being under one year of age, Kea’s car seat faces backwards so I can’t check her expression in the rear-view mirror. Is she sleeping or restless? Spitting up? Contracting malaria? Molting??? These concerns are distracting. But now, thanks to a flimsy and marginally reflective disc of safety plastic affixed to the head rest in front of her car seat, I can now catch a reassuring glimpse of her chubby visage and go back to the business of driving. Peace of mind for less than $20.
Disposable Diapers
I consider myself a friend to Mother Nature. And we tried, valiantly. A few weeks into the parenting adventure, we picked up a set of G Diapers – reusable diaper covers with flushable, biodegradable inserts. There was leakage. When I tried to flush the insert there was – and I shudder involuntarily at this memory – splash back.
Now it’s all disposables, all the time. They do not leak, they wick. They’re light-weight and self-adhesive. The used ones wrap up into neat little packages of doom.
I was raised by wolves in the forest (this is true except for the wolf part). My mother had no monitor, no disposable diapers, not even a washing machine. I am in awe. Of course, she once almost allowed an eagle to eat me as I dozed under a tree, so perhaps I should not be too impressed.