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Don’t Sweat the Dinner Hour

“Maaaa-umm….Mom!” It is, invariably, that pivotal point where the pasta must be drained, or the chicken taken out of thelitb9a.jpg 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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Tainted Toys: Do we have a right to safe products?

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.

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Fast Veggie Fix

The challenge of getting veggies into kids (especially toddlers) is twofold. First, vegetables can be surprisingly difficult to come by on a moment’s notice. I know, I know … it only takes a few minutes to steam some carrots or broccoli. And once your kid has enough teeth, it’s easy enough to slice up some raw peppers to go with those celery and carrot sticks. Still, fruits and vegetables require that much more forethought than your other food groups. That’s probably why I can usually dish up a nutritionally balanced dinner, but am always scrambling for veggie content at lunch. If we’re out and about it’s tricky to find veggies that aren’t a salad. (Colum’s not so good with the leafy greens.) And when we’re home I’m usually trying to whip something up in under 15 minutes to get lunch in before nap time.

Here’s my tip: If your kid is anything like mine (and most are), then you know that macaroni and cheese, or any kind of pasta, will always be gobbled up — no matter how tired or cranky. So, toss some veggies in with the pasta water when cooking the noodles and serve them up at the same time. Green beans work great, but broccoli or cauliflower or whatever you have on hand is worth a try, too.

This brings us to the second part of the veggies-into-kids problem. Will they eat them? I’ll admit to having had varying success with the veggies in the pasta water shortcut. The first time I tried it Colum eagerly swallowed a few bites and then calmly spit out any and all vegetable matter as he finished the rest of the macaroni and cheese. The last time, though, I served the green beans beside the mac ‘n’ cheese and he happily ate quite a few. Depending on the day, then, you might have to resort to a carrot muffin or zucchini bread snack later in the day to up the veggie quotient.

There are, of course, as many ways to serve up vegetables as there are to reject them. What’s important, I think, is that they’re always there. And as long as a few bites end up in our kids now and then, we’re doing alright.

Disclaimer: I had this post written and ready to roll, when my husband pointed out there is much ado in the world of sneaking vegetables into kids meals right now. (Go figure.) It seems that Jessica Seinfeld’s new book Deceptively Delicious: Simple Secrets to Get Your Kids Eating Good Food is under attack for having a few unusual recipes in common with another best-selling cookbook, Sneaky Chef: Simple Strategies for Hiding Healthy Foods in Kids Favorite Meals, by Missy Chase Lapine. For the record, then, any similarity between this post and the content of any cookbook is entirely coincidental. (How banal would that cookbook be? First boil the water, then drop in the pasta …) Let me go further. The very premise of pureeing spinach and adding it to brownies (a recipe common to both books) strikes me as ridiculous. Part of what we’re trying to accomplish as parents is an appreciation for vegetables and healthy eating that will last for life. If you’re so far gone that you need to completely disguise vegetables, then you’ve already lost. (Partially disguising them is perfectly fine, though. If the cheese sauce or ketchup or ranch dressing or whatever helps the vegetables go down, at least your kids know they are enjoying vegetables!) Not that I’ve read either book.

(Photo courtesy of http://www.food-image.com/products/thumb2/fi04717.jpg)

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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.

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Gary Taubes on prenatal tests

New York Times Magazine allowed top-selling author Gary Taubes, of Good Calories, Bad Calories fame to answer questions from readers. I was pleasantly surprised to find a question about the ethics of some types of prenatal screening given the extremely high rates of false positives and the subsequent stress and anxiety those results can cause. Taubes agrees that this is a problem and that doctors should better inform their patients. He points out, though, that many people simply want to be told what to do and expect their doctors to bear the burden of those types of decisions.

I think Taubes is right here. I am lucky enough to live in Ontario where midwives are regulated and covered by public health care as an alternative to obstetricians. I opted for midwifery care during my pregnancy and was treated to leisurely check ups throughout during which all tests, screenings, etc. were discussed in detail. My midwife informed me about what advocates for or against any given procedure were concerned about and what the standard procedure was. Most doctors, unfortunately, don’t have the time for such detailed discussions and — what’s more — I can imagine members of my own family who simply would not want all those details. And I can certainly understand that. (You don’t want your auto mechanic going over every rationale — just fix it already!) And I’m still not sure that I made the best choice regarding all my procedures. Did I really need that ultrasound at 12 weeks?

But it was my choice in the end. And I am glad to have had it.

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Baby’s First Reading: Pretending to Read and Signs of Readiness

Here is my very first post, and I’m already foregoing any real information or insight in order to boast about my boy. I left him strapped in his stroller at the bottom of the stairs while I ran up to fetch some last minute item. Returning, I find that he’s picked up the “notice of filming” flyer left on the steps and is loudly and enthusiastically pretending to read from it. When I ask if he’s reading, he gives me a huge grin and then drags his finger under the words while babbling all the more eagerly. My boy is not quite 18 months old and it is only in the past 3 or 4 months that he’s really started to enjoy being read to. So I am blown away by both the pretending in itself and the attention to the printed word. (There was only solid text on this paper.) And, really, it was just unbelievably cute.

I did some very preliminary research (ie. Google search) to find out if there is some expected time-line for this kind of behaviour. All I found, though, was that pretending to read normally happens by age 3. And, elsewhere, that pretending to read is a sign of reading readiness in school age children. (Obviously, we are not pretending in quite the same way!)

I do know that it’s so easy for us proud parents to latch on to all kinds of things as signs of advanced skills. (And there’s nothing wrong with that. I know my boy is bright, even if he’s not quite as sophisticated as I sometimes imagine.) By most accounts, though, most kids are caught up with one another by 3 or so and there’s really no clear advantage to early talking. At my boy’s age, too, I need to remember that while I know how much he talks, he’s often quiet around others. And their kids are quiet around me.

Despite the variations, the rate at which all kids learn language comprehension and verbal communication in the 2nd year just floors me. It also means that I’m going to have to watch what I say!