Enjoying the Small Things

Enjoying the Small Things

Baby Books: What to Record, What’s a Waste of Time and How to Organize all those Milestones

By

When I was pregnant with Lainey and started thinking about buying baby gear, I wasn’t particular about a lot of things except when it came to a baby book. I wanted a really nice baby book. Always a bit of a documentarian, I cared a lot about the structure of where I’d store milestones and memories. And if the baby book is the last thing you thought about when you were pregnant, I totally get it. Most people laugh about the fact that the first three pages of their kid’s baby book are filled with details and photos and all the things, and then crickets for the rest of the book. I think a lot of “failed baby books” are due to standards we set that are way too high as well as poorly structured baby books prompting you to tediously record details of things you’re not going to care to recall someday. You don’t need to remember what date your kid’s lateral incisor came in, Gina. And by Gina, I mean me because look what I wasted time writing when Lainey was a baby. A diagram and everything!

After having Nella and understanding the beauty of “Delayed milestones don’t really matter!”, I have a whole new perspective on questions like “When did Baby roll over?” or “When did Baby sit up on her own?” These kinds of questions also make it likely for you to fizzle out on documentation. If you miss recording a couple months of these, it’s hard to go back and write them down later and easy to close the book and quit recording for good.

So what are things that are important to write down? What are you going to wish you recorded? I’m not an expert on baby books, but I have really enjoyed keeping them for each of my kids and can at least tell you from experience how I eventually tapered things down to preserve really special things I know my kids will be happy to read someday. When I say “tapered down,” I mean I figured out by the third kid that not everything is worth saving. See Figure A:

But first, let’s start with the basics: How do you choose a baby book? What should you buy?

Tip #1: Splurge on the Baby Book
If you are at all into the whole documentation thing (and no worries if you’re not–skip it, your kid will be fine!), splurge on a baby book. Strollers and car seats and cribs cost a pretty penny these days, and yet you’ll only use them for a few years. A baby book? It’s the one baby item you’ll actually use and save forever. Spend the money to buy one you’ll love and be motivated to use.

Tip #2: Buy a Baby Book with Loose Leaf Pages
I highly recommend 3-ring binder style baby books with loose leaf pages. It gives you a lot of control over the book and allows you to add your own pages and slip in things the book prompts may have left out. I have added so many of my own pages and clear pocket sleeves that make great places to store all the overlooked things that are fun to save–things like hospital badges from visitors who came to see the baby.

My kids’ baby books are made by Marcela, and I love them. I bought them from a local boutique where I was able to customize the insert pages (I had the pages from another book taken out and swapped with the cover I wanted–more likely allowed at a local boutique where they’ll work with you). Another great loose-leaf baby book is Artifact Uprising’s The Story of You – clean, simple and beautifully laid out. C.R. Gibson offers a more inexpensive loose-leaf option.

Tip #3: It Doesn’t Have to be Perfect!
Say it with me, perfectionists: You can keep writing in your kid’s baby book even if your hand slipped and that H looks like an A. You can keep writing in your kid’s baby book even if you started with a blue pen and now all you have is a black pen. Make mistakes and write a little bit messy right away so you set the tone for easy, soulful documentation and not perfection. See look! Mine’s sloppy and carefree! But there’s gold in these scribbles and crooked envelopes slapped on with whatever tape I could find.

Tip #4: Use Envelopes
When you use a 3-ring binder type of baby book, you can slip in blank pages. A lot of these blank pages in my books have envelopes taped to them. This is a great way to store the family Christmas card, birthday invitations, folded pictures they drew, hair they cut out themselves, photos, ultrasound pics, etc. I tape a lot of photos down in my books as well, but the envelopes are great for storing multiples of photos as well as cards.

Tip #5: Create a Baby Book Writing Ritual
The best way to not fizzle out on keeping a baby book is to make it fun. If it feels like a chore, forget about it. The only reason my kids’ baby books are filled is because I loved the ritual of doing it. For their first year of life, I worked on their books once a month (in between, I’d jot things down on paper and just shove it in the book to store it until I dedicated the time to write it in the book). I’d make sure any photos I wanted to include were printed ahead of time and then I’d gather the book, the notes I had scribbled, a couple good pens, some tape and a glass of wine; and I’d put a movie on and enjoy the process of catching up on the book. After the first year, I worked on the books more infrequently; but to this day, I still shove scraps of scribbled notes in each of their books until one night when I’m feeling nostalgic and return to put it all in its proper place.

Tip #6: Record the Things You Would Have Loved to Have Known About Yourself When You Were Little and the Things You Would Have Loved to Have Known About Your Mom’s First Year of Motherhood
The big question is–what to record. If you’re going to make the space to write down things about your baby’s life, let them be important things. First of all, the first year of a baby’s life isn’t that much unlike the first year of any other baby’s life. We all think our own babies are so special and full of unique personality, but there’s not that many things you can say about babies that don’t apply to all babies. I actually have a paragraph in Lainey’s baby book under “Month 1” dedicated to her amazingly unique personality trait of “likes to eat.” Um, every baby likes to eat. She wasn’t a shining star. A more interesting and unique approach to recording the first month would be to record Mom’s new take on motherhood. Looking back on my own baby book, I give ZERO effs about the fact that I woke up at 2:00, 4:00, and 6:00 (who am I kidding–it was 1978, and I’m the last baby–I didn’t even have a baby book). But I would have loved to have known what overwhelming postpartum moments made my mom cry or what the first song she sang me to sleep was.

So here’s the things I’ve recorded in my kids’ books that I’m so glad I have written down. I don’t consider any of them milestones. I consider them little love stories.

Favorite Toys and Toy Stages – The kids love hearing about these, and they will be fun to come back to someday at the Thanksgiving dinner table when they’re all in their twenties. “What was that toy Lainey was so into in second grade? Mom, go get the baby book! Oh my God, Squinkies! That’s right! I forgot all about those!” Even better, save those most loved toys. I have a little box with all of the small toys my kids were once obsessed with. One rubber band loom bracelet Lainey made, three Squinkies, a handful of Shopkins, the green bean rattle Dash loved as a baby, a squishy laced with strawberry-scented chemicals and Nella’s original Barbie, Poop I.

Places We Visited and Loved – At the end of each month’s page in my kids’ books, there’s a prompt that says “Places We Visited.” I didn’t realize how special this prompt was until I recently looked back at some of the early years and noticed how many special outings I would have completely had forgotten about. It’s also a great way to prove to yourself how much you really do get out when it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. Our lists include things like “Third Street Farmer’s Market, Vanderbilt Library, Brunch at First Watch with Mommy’s friends, Captiva Island day trip with the family.”

Unique Favorites or Dislikes- Funny little quirks are always fun to remember. Think beyond my genius “likes to eat” documentation and get specific. You love when we rub the little space above your nose between your eyes, and it always makes you fall asleep. You love my yellow earrings with the dangly beads and always try and rip them off when I wear them which is why we’ve put them away for a while. You love the Elmo pop-up book and have ripped his eyes off three times, and we keep taping them back on. 

Stories Behind Firsts – The dates on firsts don’t really matter, but you’ll want to remember the story behind them. Where were you when they took their first steps? How did you react? How did Dad react? I don’t know when Lainey lost her first tooth, but I definitely remember we were at the fair, and it fell into a pile of teeth-looking white shell bits. I remember her crying that we wouldn’t be able to find it (we never did) and then convincing her that we’d sell the tooth fairy on a piece of broken shell that looked like a tooth. Record the stories. You will think you will remember them, but unless you write it down, you’re going to forget more than half.

People in Their Lives – Who came to their birthday parties, who their favorite friend in preschool was, which neighbor they always want to stop and talk to on family walks. People come in and out of our lives. I love looking back at my kids special moments in life and remembering who played a role, who showed up, who made an impact.

Letters – If you fill out nothing else in the baby book, write them letters. Tell them what you are learning, how much you love them, what you worry about, how special they are.

Funny Things They Say and Mispronunciations – This one might be my favorite thing to remember and what our whole family loves to talk about the most…the funny things our kids said, invented phrases they coined, mispronunciations, imaginary friends (Lainey had one named Sankalinka), what they named their fish. You’ll forget if you don’t write them down. Dash could have a three-volume book on these alone. I posted something on Instagram a couple months ago asking what favorite mispronunciations your kids have, and I swear I’ve never had so many comments on one post. We love this stuff. We want to remember it. Just yesterday, I wrote down 2 things Dash says right now that I know I’ll forget if I don’t write it down. “Pizuzz” for “Because.” “Yoom” for “Room”

And if all this feels overwhelming? Skip the baby book and buy a beautiful memory box. Scribble whatever you want on scraps of paper, date them and throw them in the box. No rules.

Is there anything you’re glad you recorded for your kids that I didn’t include? Do you wish you would have written down more? Less? Kept a baby book in a different way? Do tell.

*I edited the photos in this post on an old computer that desperately needs its screen recalibrated, so apologies for the off colors.

Stealthy Vegetable Disguises for Kids

By

This sponsored post is in partnership with Stonyfield Organic, a brand we love not only for their products but for their values. They make delicious healthy yogurt without the use of toxic persistent pesticides, artificial hormones, antibiotics or GMOs; and they do it all with planet-friendly business practices–from using yogurt cups made from plants instead of petroleum, to making their own renewable energy.

I’ve admitted before that while I’m not big on getting hung up over parenting regrets, I have a few of them that are hard to live down. We moved Nella out of her crib and into a bed too quickly (her sleep has never been the same); I picked up my kids toys for them for far too long (leaving them out is a bad habit now), and then there’s the fruit before vegetables mistake. When my kids started eating solid foods, I skipped over the green stuff and went right for the applesauces and peaches because I wanted them to taste good. I missed out on the chance of expanding their taste buds early which led to a long stretch of limited things they’d eat–pasta, cereal, fruit, bread and sweets. Repeat. We’ve since introduced many new foods and are slowly growing their taste tolerance, but we still struggle in the vegetable department. It looks a little bit like this:

There are two words that work for a number of parenting challenges though, from slipping out of a room without waking up a baby to adding vegetables to their diet: BE STEALTHY.

A few sneaky ways we’ve tricked them into eating vegetables:

* Smoothies – Whenever we toss our favorite frozen fruits into the blender, I make sure to throw in some spinach. It gets pulverized in the blender, disguising the turn-off factor of unappealing leaves, and its taste is masked by the fruit.

* Sauces & Soups – If I chop them up good and pair them with the right flavors, I can slip in some veggies in our spaghetti sauce, chicken soup, and cheesy broccoli soup.

* Air Fryer – Brett bought a new air fryer last year (his Amazon picks, of course) and has made some creative options out of green beans, sweet potatoes and zucchini chips–all which the kids have tried with the selling factor of “fries” and “chips.”

* Stonyfield’s Whole Milk Yogurt pouches – Stonyfield gives moms a break and does the stealthy work for you, slipping veggies like sweet potatoes, spinach, beets and carrot in their convenient yogurt pouches and tubes.

Their new whole milk flavors include Apple Cinnamon Sweet Potato (Dash’s favorite–he says it tastes like creamy apple pie), Blueberry Apple Carrot (my favorite–so rich and creamy!) and their new Strawberry Beet Berry yogurt tubes.

My kids’ lunchboxes have come home many afternoons with their snap peas and dip untouched, but the yogurt pouches are always a favorite. Little do they know, they’re packed with carrots and sweet potatoes and beets!  Cue evil mom cackle.

Bonus – no mess, no spoons, no dumped yogurt all over the inside of their lunch box.

You can purchase the new Stonyfield flavors nationwide at Target, Walmart and a variety of other retailers.

Baby dolls are fans too!

An Ode to Toys

By

I ran to Target last week with a shopping list of birthday party supplies and a reminder from Brett to pick out a “cool present” for Dash–a task that is not difficult because Dash thinks a lot of things are cool. I started in produce and strategically mapped out my aisle course, saving the toy aisles for the end–even if the milk warmed–because toy aisles are the best aisles, and I save the best for last. As I rounded my cart into the first aisle of the toy section and pushed it slowly past shelves of Hot Wheels and packages of bright orange tracks that promise roller coaster thrills, I felt a hint of the nostalgic ache I know I will soon feel when the delight of Hot Wheels has faded and is replaced with–what, new computer speakers? How lovely. This “future nostalgic ache” isn’t so much a sinking feeling as it is a subtle awareness. I know the dangers of mourning the loss of something while it’s still wonderfully present, yet I cannot help but be very aware–especially after experiencing the speed in which one child has already graduated through all the toy thrill stages and is now holding steady at Clothes-are-Everything–that we are past Intermission in the great production of Our Life in the Toy Aisles that has played in our family for years.

There’s a Hotline for Future Nostalgic Ache, and it’s called Heidi’s phone. So I call her, from two toy aisles over where I park my cart between pets that “come to life” at any sign of motion. When she answers, I practically yell to be heard over the uproar of animatronic dog barking. Let’s just state for the record that there are some toys that do not delight.

Heidi answers.

“I’m in the toy aisles at Target picking out a present for Dash and it just hit me–I don’t get much longer of this, do I?”

“I know. It’s horrible,” she says, attempting to console and failing miserably. In fact, when it comes to mourning our kids getting older, I don’t even know why we call each other. We provide nothing but an invitation to a deeper level of festering sentimentality. We are pigs in our own wistful filth.

“I’m going to miss toys so much,” I say. “I’m going to miss seeing my kids bolt from the cart, breathless with anticipation to get to these aisles.”

“Isn’t it awful?” Heidi says. “One day they’re brushing their doll’s hair. The next day they’re slamming doors in your face. It sucks.” Ladies and Gentlemen, Heidi and I are taking our “POSITIVITY IN PARENTING: How to Healthily Embrace Your Children Growing Up” Show on the road, book tickets now!

And yes–I know every stage is wonderful, Brenda. I feel that. Sharing love with Lainey for checkered Vans and finding the perfect pink lip gloss at Sephora is a new joy in parenting that is wonderful in its own way. Having conversations together about big life things and watching her discover passions and interests beyond the world of childhood? It’s all so good. But it’s still paired with the recognition that these new interests are replacing the loss of something else–something magical that has lived in our home for a long time, and I just want to take a moment to declare my love for it while it’s still here–an ode to toys, if you will.

The happiness these toys bring to our bedrooms with their colors lined up on our shelves–bright green garbage trucks, red fire engines, a Tonka truck as yellow as the sun. Bins of Barbies, Legos, blocks, little animals with names and faces known by all three. The constant invitation to step out of character, use a different voice, try new sounds–a police car siren “woo-oo,” a high-pitched Barbie conversation–“Hey Kiki, do you want to go to Target?”, a growl from a fierce dinosaur who runs into the block tower and knocks it down with a crash…the uninhibited laughter that follows.

The baskets of little toys, collections, tiny treasures that fit in tins. A few always escape and end up in far corners of the house where I find them in a frantic cleaning blitz, frustrated for a moment with their existence but not really. I’ve loved the Shopkins and puzzle erasers and popsicle plastic necklace charms. I hope to be finding them at the bottom of backpacks for years to come.

There’s freedom and innocence and a world of imagination without limits and rules or embarrassment behind these toys, This is what I want to last forever. There’s joy in that freedom of expression.

And then there are the favorites–the most cherished toys that have won the prize of longest lasting thrill and truest companions. They’re personified to us–as real as Christopher Robin’s friends or Andy and Jessie in Toy Story 2 where surely the intent was announced among the Pixar script writers: “Moms–let’s get in ’em in the jugular.” This scene had me in a full-on stomach jerk cry in the middle of the theater, and I have never looked at Lainey’s beloved Gagoo the same since.

These favorites are members of our family. They’ve earned their place, sitting at the dinner table with us, being tucked in sleepover bags and brought on road trips and plane trips and travels to our most favorite places. They show up in pictures of our life’s most memorable moments. Their names are known by friends and family members. Love has breathed life into them, and yet I know…it won’t last forever.

As childhood fades, so will they. And I just want to say that I will miss them when they are tucked in boxes or tossed in baskets, their lively presence slowly fading, perhaps without us even noticing until it’s been too long.

While they’re still here with life breathed in them, I want them to know…I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for your service and companionship.

Clothes and nail polish and computer speakers might gradually take over where you were once displayed, but just know, we loved you first and best, Toys.