Author: Rebecca Cuneo Keenan

Rebecca Cuneo Keenan is a writer who lives in Toronto with her husband and three children.

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A review every Monday!

It’s early days still, here at Playground Confidential. That means lots of detailed technical crap for me to sort through while I’m getting my bearings and finding my voice and fine-tuning the focus and structure of this site. One of my objectives is to be informative as well as entertaining and thought-provoking. To that end, then, I’m instituting four regular features. A What’s On category will list upcoming family friendly events in the GTA. I’ll have to see about a system for rating or recommending events. I’ll post a tip or try-this on Wednesday and tackle a timely parenting related issue on Fridays. Mondays will alternate between book reviews (of both children’s books and those for mom and dad) and reviews of some product/toy/gizmo. I’ll fill in that basic structure with a variety of more personal posts.

So, next Monday, look for a book review at the start of your work week.

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The Curse

Sunset - Espiritual Thing photo courtesy of HerodotoI’d like to believe I live in harmony with my body. I’d like to tell you about the wonders of herbal tea and yoga and how connected I am to the phases of the moon. But it would be a load of crap. Don’t get me wrong. I chart my cycle (sorta) and I really, really tried to have a natural birth before my two epidurals. I know some gentle stretching and breathing exercises can do a body good, but I also need a little edge to keep up with my life. That means a healthy amount of caffeine, not always enough sleep, and a somewhat less-than-perfect diet. (Believe me, I’m living like a monk compared with my pre-motherhood days.) So maybe I have it coming.

But I was under the impression that menstrual cramps are a thing of the past once you have a kid. All that housing of a baby for nine months and then expelling it through a series of intense contractions is supposed to get your uterus in tip top shape. Your monthly shedding should be a cake walk for any uterus worth its salt. Instead, I’m popping Advils to keep the cramps at bay three days into this, my third post-partum period. (Yeah, okay, I did have 15 period-free months first. I can’t complain about that.) The Mayo Clinic distinguishes between primary and secondary dysmenorrhea. Primary is your basic period cramp, and that should diminish with age and childbirth. Secondary indicates something wrong with your plumbing (ie. endometriosis, adenomyosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, or uterine fibroids or polyps) and can strike at any age. I’m not really concerned. These cramps are probably less severe than they were and are easily masked with ibuprofen. I’ll mention them at my upcoming check up, but I don’t expect there’s anything wrong. Still, I had hoped they were vanquished altogether.

(Photo courtesy of Herodoto.)

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Chocolate Face?

A day or two after his cousin’s third birthday, Colum had a mild pimple-like rash around his mouth that lasted a couple of days. I immediately focused my suspicions on the chocolate cake — it was Colum’s first real exposure to chocolate. Over the past couple months, then, I’ve held off on chocolate for the most part. A couple bites here and there haven’t left their mark, though, so I thought maybe we were in the clear.

This morning, two days after Halloween, he awoke with a solitary pimple-like blemish smack dab in the middle of his chin. Again, I suspected chocolate and set out to examine the possibilities. Despite the vast amount of anecdotal evidence supporting reactions to chocolate, a true chocolate allergy seems to be practically unheard of. The Mayo Clinic says, “Chocolate, long thought by some parents to be a culprit among children, seldom is a cause of food allergy.”

So what we’re probably dealing with here is a food sensitivity. The main distinction between an allergy and sensitivity is that the immune system is not involved with the latter. Also, the reactions tend to be less severe and small amounts of the offending food are often tolerated. Thus, half a chocolate chip banana muffin leaves Colum unscathed while three squares of an Aero bar send up Mount Vesuvius. In fact, it might not even be chocolate per se that is at issue. It is common for people to react to some of the additives found in chocolate. And the cheaper the chocolate, the more other stuff there is. (Ahem, I guess that means you, Nestle.)

I’m not worrying too much, then. There’s no real harm being done and he’ll hopefully outgrow it. And for now, he can eat some more treats, but I’ve got my eye on that chin.

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Holy Trick or Treat, Batman!

I was all set to write a vitriolic rant against the idea that kids should go to Halloween parties rather than trick-or-treating. Over the past few years (admittedly, before I had a kid) I seem to remember a lot of ado about the nutritional and safety related dangers of trick-or-treating. This campaign against the practice of encouraging our children to roam the streets at night, going door to door, and begging for candy from strangers seemed to coincide with a marked decrease in the number of children ringing my doorbell (and my parents’). And I was livid. How dare they mess with one of the all-time great childhood pastimes! (Trick-or-treating was one of the things North America had all over the rest of the world, but it seems to be spreading.) Proper parental supervision and rationing of the loot is enough to offset any concerns — so relax!

Happily, even though I was all set to rant on and on, it looks like trick-or-treating is back and stronger than ever. Last night we took Colum out for the first time and stumbled upon the magical fairy-tale land of trick-or-treating. Our route was a straight shot down Pacific from Dundas to Humberside — cutting from the heart of the Junction to the Northern tip of the more affluent High Park area. All down the street every second or third house was fully decked out with multiple Jack-o-lanterns and skeletons and witches and ghouls, you name it. (Later that night we had to stop twice to unravel insane amounts of fake cobwebbing from the wheels of the stroller.) Most people were sitting out on their porches or steps, many in full costume, and handing out generous amounts of good treats. But the street! The sidewalk was packed shoulder to shoulder with parents and kids of all ages hustling up and down walk ways and zig-zagging across the street. Neighbours were calling out greetings and gushing over each other’s costumes. Oh, it was good fun! Colum was so into it, he refused to stop. We were out for over an hour even though he was so tired he could barely walk a straight line.

I don’t know what’s changed, if anything. We lived in the same area last year and while Colum was too young to go out, I took him for a walk and there were hardly any kids in sight. Maybe we went out walking too late last year. Or maybe it was the unbelievably mild yet crisp fall weather we had last night. The just-past-full moon shining over a half-shed canopy of maples and oaks while piles of leaves crunch underfoot. It could just be the huge numbers of young families in this neighbourhood or that it was a Wednesday. It seems that Halloween is gaining ground as the high secular holiday of the year and people are just really into. Whatever the case, it looks like trick or treating might be back in vogue and I love, love, love it!

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Bye Bye Baby

Colum turned 18 months yesterday and, it’s official, I no longer have a baby. Looking at him today, I can clearly see that any residual baby-ness is just that — residue. His ultra-fine wispy hair will need a cut soon enough. His chubby cheeks are going the way of those chunky knee folds and elbow dimples. The occasional AM breastfeed is on it’s way out, and diapers have given way to training pants.

There’s not much chance for reminiscing when you’re chasing a toddler all over the place, though. And the present is so brimming with delight, I’m happy to have come this far. When you have a baby time slows way, way down. But those endless days (and nights) filled with feeding and burping and rocking and feeding… eventually speed up. By the time we hit the one year mark, we were pretty much in sync with the rest of the world. I’m glad, then, to spend so much of this fleeting time with Colum. He takes living in the moment to whole new levels. We spent all of breakfast this morning talking about Kindertots at the local community centre. We remembered they have cars there and a boy and kids and slides. We were excited to be going there as we got on our shoes and coat. Fast forward 5 minutes: I’m pushing Colum down the street in a stroller and ask, “Where are we going?” “A walk!” he answers. And I smile. That’s right. We’re going for a walk — he never lets me miss out on the journey and I love him for it.

But speaking of Kindertots, our community centres need funding! I paid $50 for 9 weeks of a program that consists of letting kids romp around a gym with lots of great toys and an optional craft table. The Parks and Rec guide said there’d be a snack, but there’s not. The session lasts for 1 1/2 hours including the really sad circle time at the end that we can never sit through. I waffle between being bitter for having paid way too much for a lot of nothing and being glad that we’re there because Colum really does have fun. The thing is that programs like this are truly valuable. I like the huge chunk of unstructured playtime. I like the well-meaning Parks and Rec lady (who I swear has been working at every community centre I’ve ever been to and doesn’t ever age). I like that it’s not really a big deal, but it should be priced accordingly. Community centres should be good, affordable resources and a point of pride for any civilized society. The City of Toronto just passed a new Land Transfer Tax that should help keep the current level of service stay afloat, but we need to infuse more money and more life into these Parks and Rec programs. Because if I can’t afford the programs at the community centre something is seriously wrong.