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By rebecca, November 29, 2007 2:03 am

Routine. The word has connotations of rigid time lines and endless drudgery. But that’s just me, I know. For many people routine means order and predictability. It means comfort and stability. And for kids it is absolutely necessary.

It’s true. Even as a newborn Colum ate and slept at regular intervals; he was active and alert and fussy and cranky at the same time each day. I didn’t fully realize this, though, until he was nearly four months old and I began leaving him with my husband one evening a week. Forced to make careful note of his schedule, I was shocked to discover he was set in a predictable routine. Even more surprising was how liberating that was for me! No longer did I have the luxury of, everything-else-be-damned, spending the whole day catching up on housework, or writing, or reading, or watching T.V. I began scheduling bits of housework into Colum’s nap time and soon wound up scheduling everything! I don’t always actually follow my schedule, but I don’t fall into a state of anxiety-induced paralysis whenever I want to get something done either. Rather than consulting an ever growing “To Do” list, I simply work at whatever it is I set down for any given time slot.

But enough about me. Every parenting book and parenting expert will tell you that children thrive on routine. Infants do well on a steady feeding and sleeping routine, but don’t need much else. Certainly they need stimulation, but their other activities don’t have to be as predictable. As toddler-dom approaches and the number of naps falls to two and then one, you’ll want to add some familiar activities to the daily routine. Here in Canada, where we have a 12 month maternity leave, many tots enter daycare around one year and will have ample routine built into their days. For those of us who do not return to a regular full-time job, however, it can be hard finding the right balance.

Here’s what I do. I aim for two outings a day. Community resources are indispensable for this. Every other Monday evening there is a drop-in at the Early Years Centre, Tuesday mornings are Kindertots, Wednesdays are Family Time at the library, and we’re back at the Early Years Centre Thursday evenings. We also go to a park most days. (In extreme weather we might forgo this for a trip to the grocery store or simply stay in, but kids need to run around outdoors in all seasons.) We fill in the rest of the week with social outings and errands. This still leaves a goodly amount of time for unstructured play in the home. “Colum, Mommy’s working/cooking/cleaning/folding. Go play with your blocks/cars/balls/puzzle.”

One final warning. Don’t overdo it. While kids do need routine, there is a certain parental type that takes that to mean they can go ahead and schedule every waking moment of their children’s lives. Kids grow older and their needs change and we all need to learn how to be flexible. Sometimes that means being able to be spontaneous and creative and adventurous.

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By rebecca, November 15, 2007 7:24 am

“Maaaa-umm….Mom!” It is, invariably, that pivotal point where the pasta must be drained, or the chicken taken out of the oven, or the sauce stirred. I pull back from the pot of boiling liquid just as Colum wedges himself between me and the stove and clutches at my legs. I have to drag him across the room and drop him into a ball of whiny misery and try to rush back to keep from ruining dinner. When Dad finally walks through the door I’m on him to set the table and get Colum started on some milk while I quickly plate our meal. At the table my diligence in cutting and blowing and stirring in ice cubes goes unheeded. “Is too hot!” And the first of many pieces of food is flung across the table. Much pleading and stern talking and then pleading again later, I’m on my hands and knees brushing up 75 per cent of Colum’s dinner and praying that he ate the rest.

The current buzz about the importance of family meals has upped the stress level of the average dinner to an all time high. Not only do you have figure out how to prepare a nutritious meal for every member of your family after working all day (or, in my case, wallowing in unemployment — more tiring than you think), you now have to make sure everyone sits down around a table and eats together. It’s important. There have been studies. If we don’t eat as a family, Colum will be at risk for unhealthy behaviour. And so we do eat together when we can. But does it have to be this stressful?

Here are two reasons to relax at dinner. First, don’t make one meal serve two masters. Dinner doesn’t have to be both the main nutritional event and spotlight on family time. If, as is commonly the case, work schedules dictate a late dinner, why not go ahead and feed young children earlier. They can still sit at the table and eat what they like, but they won’t be so hungry and you won’t be so worried about how much they eat. Or serve dinner earlier and save some for the late comers. You can make breakfast the family meal, or only strive for a family dinner every other day.

Second, realize that a big dinner is not essential. Historically, in fact, dinner was served midday and a light supper was prepared in the evening. The advent of affordable lighting coupled with industrial jobs that took people away from their home during the workday made an evening meal both possible and desirable. Lunch, then, needed to be light and portable and just enough food to tide one over until the main meal. Cheryl Mendelson makes a good case for the restorative powers of a proper dinner on page 35 of Home Comforts, my own personal housekeeping bible. If your dinners are anything like ours can be, though, you know that “restorative” is not coming to mind any time soon. Why not have your main meal earlier whenever possible? (A Sunday dinner at midday is still traditional in many households.) We can, at the very least, make exceptions for young children who shouldn’t have to wait until just before bedtime for a substantial meal.

This is how meals are playing out at our home these days. Colum wakes up h-u-n-g-r-y. I often make a pot of oatmeal or cream of wheat now that the cool weather has started. Colum will eat at least two helpings of cereal and will either have fruit with his breakfast or as a snack an hour or so later. (NOTE: While porridge does stick to your ribs, it also sticks to every other surface your toddler comes into contact with. Do not serve oatmeal if you’re in a hurry.) Then, around noon, we’ve been enjoying soup and a sandwich now that all but the last molars are through. After Colum’s nap he might eat a snack right away or wait an hour or so, depending on how much lunch he ate. Now, if we’re waiting until 7 o’clock for a family dinner, then I’ll give him another snack while I’m cooking. If that’s not in the works, then I try to have dinner served by 6. As a general rule, the later the dinner, the less of it he eats. So, of course, plan your snacks accordingly.

There is value in sitting down for a meal as a family, and it’s a ritual I quite enjoy. We simply have to be careful not to sell the car to pay for the tires as the saying goes. (No? Well, it does now.) A little flexibility goes a long way.

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By rebecca, November 9, 2007 5:28 pm

Another massive toy recall makes headlines and I’m starting to get dizzy. Are those fumes coming from my keyboard? Maybe I’m sitting dangerously close to Colum’s toy box. This latest mishap resulted in several children falling into temporary, drug-induced comas! It’s enough to make you nostalgic for good old fashioned lead poisoning. Asbestos anyone?

I’m not sure what to think of all this. It’s tempting at first to chime in with the “kids don’t need that crap anyway” school of thought. And, sure, it’s possible that one hand-carved wooden train set, an Indian rubber ball, a library card, and a healthy imagination is all any boy needs to get through childhood. (If you have a daughter, simply substitute a baby doll and skipping rope for the train set and ball. Oh, and the library card, too. Girls don’t need to read.) But it’s not 1934 and I’m not planning to move to the heartland and start homeschooling. My kid will have toys, lots of toys, maybe even more than I did. (But my generation will be hard to beat.) And after a scant year and a half I can already tell that many of those toys will not have my express approval. There will be blinking and beeping toys, squishy and smelly toys, glow in the dark toys and, I supose, even video games. Need them or not, want them or not, they will be there.

These recalls do remind us, though, that our world is not bubble-wrapped. (And even if it were, that’s a suffocation hazard.) Our safety conscious, hygiene obsessed, health and well-being oriented society is buoyed by a delusive trust in science and technology. We really believe that the answers are there to be found and that we can guarantee our children’s safety with enough research and the right gadgets. The right diet can prevent cancer and diabetes and heart disease and the right car seat will protect our babies. So it is good to re-examine those assumptions every so often and recognize their limits.

We should, nonetheless, continue to make every effort to ensure the safety of our children. When Colum takes a bite of crayon, or chews on a board book, or smears finger paint all over his face, it’s nice to know those things are non-toxic. When he wins dollar store prizes at a local fair or gets a new toy from Walmart, I’m not so sure, and that’s a shame. The free market is a ruthless, amoral creature that’s only aim is to increase profit. And while it’s one thing to get what you paid for in terms of aesthetics and durability, no price is cheap enough to entail compromised safety measures. I am planting myself, then, squarely in the “we need better regulation” camp on this one. The Bush administration has announced a planned increase in the funding and power of the Consumer Product Safety Commission. (Critics argue that it’s not nearly enough, though.) It’s high time we had an international regulatory body because even though we can expect corporate responsibility, we cannot count on it.