Guest Blogs

In the words of the bard, This was a triumph. I'm making a note here: HUGE SUCCESS. It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.

Bugaboo has released what amounts to its first throwback edition, a 2012 Cameleon outfitted in one of the classic, single color Frog fabrics, navy blue, with an off-white lining. It's like it's 2002 all over again, only with extendable handles and better suspension and stuff.

I tell you, we liked our Cameleon, but when we were hitting the stroller zone the second time around, I found myself jonesing for the Frog. I looked pretty long and hard on Dutch auction sites for a nice vintage Bugaboo, from the days even before they were sold in the US. Instead of the circles logo, they had this kind of New Mexico-ish, petroglyphic snowflake. That's what I wanted. Old School.

But you could never really tell the condition of used strollers; hapless Dutchmen were unsure about packing and shipping; and then, of course, there were the performance improvements, like the front suspension, which were hard to give up. So we soldiered on.

I'd by this one in a second, though. It really is the best $800 stroller in the world.

The Navy/Off-White Bugaboo Cameleon is a limited edition, available while supplies last, only at Giggle. $979. [giggle via publicist]

greg

So, sandwich bread v. 7.0. Success at last.
I baked two near-perfect loaves of bread yesterday. After a week or two of researching on line, asking questions on baking forums and watching YouTube videos, I think I've got it beat.
I think. One success does not a baker make. But I'm encouraged.
Honestly, when I started this game, I had no idea how each little step impacted the final product. But I'm learning.
My first mistake, I discovered, was that I had the bread rising, for the second time, in an environment that was just too hot. The bread rose too quickly and the little yeasties got all hot and bothered and kinda burst, in bubble form, through the top of the loaf. Sometimes it happened during the rise, sometimes during the actual baking. But the result was a flat loaf. Still tasty, mind you, but not attractive.
My second mistake involved the shaping of the loaf, prior to the second rise. Pretty sure I was rolling the dough too thin before rolling it up to make my loaf. The result was similar to my first mistake. But a YouTube video set me straight. I no longer roll the dough out prior to shaping. I punch it down, gather it up and then shape it focussing on the outer surface tension. 
For most of you this probably makes no sense, unless you've tried the bread thing.
So I'll leave it at that. And this picture to illustrate:
From left is version 6.o, version 5.0 and, finally, version 7.0

Anyhoo, it's Saturday morning and we've got a trip to the library planned, with a stop at the grocery store.
Holy crap, I sound boring. But that's life.
Have a great day!
P.S. If you really are interested in the bread thing, this is the YouTube video that helped me out. He doesn't punch down his dough, but he's making a different kind of bread.

Fort Standard was founded like yesterday by designers Gregory Buntain and Ian Collings, and already they have a tableful of awesome, crystal-faceted balancing blocks handmade from salvaged hardwood and finished in a range of tasty colors, and white.

Fort Standard Balancing Blocks, bag of ten, $85 [fortstandard.com via ro/lu]

greg

From elsewhere in The Post: For kids who want to pretend their lip or tongue is pierced, Buckyballs magnets have become a popular toy. The magnets are also a choking hazard. Several children, including Meredith DelPrete, have been hospitalized for accidentally swallowing the balls, reports The Post’s Lena Sun.

Read full article >>

The past and the future once again meet in the present, with generally awesome effect.

Because while it seems normal that you can now instantly find and buy a copy of Charles Wareing Endell Bardsley's suddenly indispensable 1888 book, Curiosities Of Puritan Nomenclature, it still feels like a small miracle that you don't need to. Because thanks to the University of California's Digital Library initiative, the entire book is available for immediate and profitable study.

Bardsley apparently spent 12 years collecting and scouring the church registries of England to create what seems to be the first definitive history of the adoption of Biblical names in the country.

It suddenly makes sense that the proliferation of scripture names like Adam,, John, James, etc. followed the release of "mystery" plays, which dramatized key Bible stories for the masses. And that more obscure scripture names only came into wider use as English translations of the Bible became available. And that hilarity occasionally ensued when, "the parents [would open] the Bible haphazard, according to the village tradition, and select the first name the eye fell on." And also when they wouldn't: It was but a year ago a little child was christened Tellno in a town within six miles of Manchester, at the suggestion of a cotton-spinner, the father, a workman of the name of Lees, having asked his advice. "I suppose it must be a Scripture name," said his master. "Oh yes ! that's of course." "Suppose you choose Tellno," said his employer. "That'll do,'* replied the other, who had never heard it before, and liked it the better on that account. The child is now Tellno Lees, the father, too late, finding that he had been hoaxed.And here's another one:There is, again, a story of a clergyman making the customary demand as to name from a knot of women round the font. "Ax her," said one.
Turning to the woman who appeared to be indicated, he again asked, '* What name?" "Ax
her," she replied. The third woman, being questioned, gave the same reply. At last he dis-
covered the name to be the Scriptural Achsah, Caleb's daughter -- a name, by the way, which was somewhat popular with our forefathers. No wonder this mistake arose, when Achsah used to be entered in some such manner as this :

** 1743-4, Jan. 3. Baptized Axar Starrs (a woman of ripe
years), of Stockport.

" 1743-4, Jan. 3. Married Warren Davenport, of Stockport,
Esq., and Axar Starrs, aforesaid, spinster." -- Marple, Cheshire.

Axar's father was Caleb Starrs. The scriptural relationship was thus preserved. Achsah crossed the Atlantic with the Pilgrim Fathers, and has prospered there ever since. It is still popular in Devonshire and the south-west of England. All these stories serve to show the quarry whence modern names are hewn.Now that you mention it, Hewn is a pretty great name itself.

Read or download or do whatever you like with Curiosities of Puritan Nomenclature (1888) [archive.org]

greg

God bless the Puritans and their Biblical baby naming strategies. Or as they might put it, God, please don't damn their infants to a fiery hell for only having a two- or three-word scripture phrase as a given/baptismal name.

Sarah Marshall has a great set of Puritan naming highlights at The Hairpin, culled from Pastor Charles Wareing Endell Bardsley's 12-year labor of love, Curiosities of Puritan Nomenclature, published in 1888.

Repent Durant, Helpless Henley, and is Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith White a cousin to the first Pilgrim born in Plymouth, Peregrine White? Ask God-only-knows Burns.

Your 2012 Baby Name Guide: Puritan Edition [thehairpin via the awl]
Previously: The Peregrine White Cradle

greg

Jason continues his epic review of the Xbox 360 Kinect.

From elsewhere in The Post: If your high-schooler is thinking about applying to colleges, point him or her to this funny post on the Campus Overload blog. Guest blogger Eric N. Harris, a junior at the University of Maryland, writes about dealing with rejection letters:

Read full article >>

From elsewhere in The Post: Should college students major in a subject they love, even if it won’t lead to a high-paying job? Momspeak columnist Tracy Grant says yes, and disagrees with the advice from her colleague Michelle Singletary.

Read full article >>

From elsewhere in The Post: Is humiliating a child on Facebook the best way to teach him not to lie? A concerned family member asks advice columnist Marguerite Kelly.

“I recently opened Facebook and found that my sister had posted a picture of my nephew, her son, who was crying and holding a sign that said, ‘I lied to my family,’” says the letter writer. Read full article >>

I ran 20 miles last Saturday, and plan the same for this weekend.

Why? Why would anyone do that? Especially a guy with a busy family?

I’ve heard a lot of dads (and some moms) try to answer this question. None have been all that satisfying to me. My own attempts to answer, perhaps representative, are no less so.

Obvious (non) answer: Marathon training. Okay. Again. Why?

Sanctimonious answer: To raise money and awareness for my cause.

Meh. While both Hand to Hold and Colin’s Hope are amazing charities that deserve whatever money and attention Team DadLabs can generate (I wish it was more: donate here), that’s not even remotely an honest answer. For me, anyway. There are some people performing athletic feats that garner media attention that might actually benefit a cause, but over half a million people completed a marathon last year. Mine will not be in any way remarkable, I hope. It’s not about the charity.

Smug answer: To model for my kids that you can accomplish even seemingly impossible tasks through discipline and perseverance.

Nah. Though my oldest son has taken careful note of my training. He and I have found a great topic of shared conversation — shoes, workouts, gear. He seems to be proud of what I’m doing. My daughter is mostly mortified that I sometimes wear running tights to drive carpool (I never get out of the car, but she is nevertheless utterly horrified). My youngest likes that I’m gone on weekend mornings so he can play Skylanders, undisturbed. I think that some positive impact on my kids might be a consequence, but it’s not about the offspring.

Self-pitying answer: To compensate for my sacrifice of all exercise when my children were little.

Pure bullshit. I didn’t feel like running in my 30s. It seemed narcissistic and shallow. Sitting was more comfortable. The kids made me laugh. All good. Maybe having babies around for all those years lowered my testosterone like the studies show. I also thought being fat was kind of funny. It fit with my teacher gig. It’s not about making up for lost time.

Semi-honest answer: Vanity.

I like long-term challenges. I geek out on the data, training plans, gear. I like solitude and have found a genuine pleasure in the longer runs. Pinning on a number and standing in a starting gate is an adrenaline rush, even if you know you’re busting ass for 1462nd place. I like that it’s helped me lose weight.

Given that semi-honestly you may ask: Is it legit for a dad to pursue and almost entirely vain pursuit that consumes 10+ hours a week? Especially one that is far from risk free? I’d say the balance sheet is pretty good. Despite sketchy motives, I’ll still raise a bit of change for a good cause (come on, people), set a reasonably good example for the kids, and lose weight. As long as I continue to do 80-90% of my training while everyone is asleep, I think I can claim “no harm, no foul.”

And the fact that this all feels just the slightest bit defensive. That’s cool, right?

Another day, another 5:45 a.m. wake-up call from the minions. Ugh.
It's a little extra special when the first words they speak are: "Daddy, emergency! You gotta come see what the cat did in the closet."
Now, I know my minions and what I can generally expect when they use the term "emergency."
It falls below house fire on the dire spectrum, but above cat puke on floor. It often involves a significant spill, or something cherished by Neomom being broken.
So I don't run up the stairs. I take my time, grab a towel in the kitchen and follow the minions to their bedroom. Inside the closet, somehow, the humidifier on the floor had fallen over. Relax, it was not plugged in. But water was working its way across the floor and under Sonwun's bed. A few quick wipes and the emergency was resolved.
I'm not sure how, or if, the cat was involved. But it's too early to play detective. It spilled, it's cleaned up, time to move on.
So, earache update. Got a call from the school yesterday at 2:20 . . . shortly following afternoon recess. The school secretary told me that Sonwun was in the office "in a lot of pain" and I needed to come and get him.
This is a first for me. And, of course, I imagined my poor son, crying and wailing in the school office, embarrassed in front of his friends. I imagined the look of derision I would get from the secretary for being such a horrible parent.
I grabbed the grape-flavoured ibuprofen off the counter, hoping to ease his pain as soon as humanly possible and checked to make sure I had the prescription for amoxicillin. If only I'd given it to him on Day 1, fought this thing for him instead of letting his little body build antibodies for the future. What kind of parent was I??
At the school, I steeled myself for the horrors that lay ahead. As I got out of the manly minivan in the parking lot, I stopped to listen, to see if his wailing had penetrated the brick walls. Didn't hear anything.
I quick-walk/jogged to the school and opened the outer door and . . .
"Hi Dad!" he chirped. "Let's go!"
Um . . . no tears, no whining, not so much as a pained expression - at least not on HIS face.
Now, I don't doubt there was some discomfort. He'd had medicine at 8:30 a.m. But the timing and the level of discomfort make me wonder. I don't believe for a second that he was "in a lot of pain."
Bottom line is I brought him home, gave him a little more ibuprofen and am still monitoring the situation. He got another dose last night before bed and he slept through the night until this morning's "emergency."
He didn't touch or complain about his ear until I asked if he felt like going to school this morning. Then I got a little show and some obligatory, though unconvincing, whining.
I'm going to err on the side of caution today, and keep him home for a long weekend to fully recover. I do believe it's almost done and I think I've done the right thing as far as the antibiotics go.
Time will tell.
Have a great Friday!

Sometimes things are captured on video that make your heart throw up inside your brain. It makes you wonder how humanity has survived as long as it has.

We posted this to our Facebook Page the other day, thinking people would be screaming, “what horrible parents that kid must have.” And then the comments took some interesting turns.

We know people lose track of their kids. We know there isn’t such a thing as perfect parenting. But allowing your kid to almost ride the escalator in the sky? Then, deep down or plain as day, we all know we’ve failed or at least rubbed elbows with the ultimate fail as parents.

This could have been any parent. Maybe they’re oblivious, absorbed in the sale section of some store or junior was lured away by a flashing light. We don’t know. But what we do know, is that some of you are the “catchers” in life, the people and parents doing good deeds because they desperately need doing. Trying. Striving. Catching.

We salute you. Whether you are catching your own kids or someone else’s. You are heroes.

Have a great weekend, heroes.

For a moment there, Funny or Die thought comedian Ahna Tessler's short comedy video, which included the new mom of twins breastfeeding, was obscene or whatever, and took it down. But when the Times started asking about it, they decided it was hot instead. And certianly hotter than some random beer ponger's junk. Which is now linked to by the paper of record, btw.

Breast-Feeding Video Prompts Harsher Response Than Intended [nyt]

greg

I barely missed it the other night, but DT reader Rolf sent the link along today. And sure enough, Maurice Sendak's interview with Stephen Colbert is as funny as hell:

It'll be sad when he's gone, which, wow, I wish him all the best and health, too, but maybe we should prepare ourselves for the possibility that the blurb for Colbert's forthcoming kids' book, I Am A Pole (And You Can, Too!) is the last thing Sendak writes.

Grim Colberty Tales with Maurice Sendak, Part 1 [colbertnation]

greg

Guest blogger Ben Cohen-Leadholm gets us outside on a frozen lake.

Now, let's talk about drug-seeking behaviour, shall we? 
Sonwun has now reached the age, at 6, that I believe kids should NOT be taking children's medication. I'm not referring here to dosage, but to flavour. Quite simply, his medicine should at the very least, not taste good. I'd even put in a vote for making it taste like old sweat socks.
As I monitor his ear infection, I am judging the progress by how long his medication lasts. On the first night, a 10ml dose of delicious grape-flavour ibuprofen lasted about 3.5 hours. This has now stretched to 7.5 hours. I see this as progress.
After receiving a dose at 1:30 yesterday morning and upon awakening at 6 a.m., he asked for more. He said he preferred the pill, the delicious Orange Burst children's Tylenol. He wasn't complaining about an earache, he just wanted his pill. I put him off and he went about his business. 
(A quick aside here: Note that the generic medication I bought, the ibuprofen, is merely called "grape-flavour" while the name brand Tylenol is "Orange Burst." That's why you pay marketing people, and I guess that's one of the reasons it costs more.)
By breakfast he was asking for, and excited about, two pills. His daily vitamin and a delicious Orange Burst Tylenol. Again, no complaining about the ear, just wanting the drugs. I put him off again. 
As he made his bed, after breakfast, I could hear him in his bedroom.
"Ouch . . . ouch . . . ouch . . . OUCH!
Now here we must consider quality versus quantity. He "ouched" four times, getting progressively louder, to get my attention. But there wasn't even a hint of whine in his protestations of pain. He was just speaking the words. As plainly as he would say "are we having Cheerios this morning?" Actually, I'd say the Cheerio question probably had a touch more passion to it.
Anyway, I put him off again.
But by 9:30 a.m., I could actually hear the pain returning. I knew that he was actually feeling something beyond mere mild irritation. The whine was back. Time for the medication. Told him this was extra powerful and would last until bedtime. We'll see how that little parental white lie works out.
So, my suggestions for the name brand, as well as the generic children's medicine people. 
1. Make some new flavours for these occasions. I suggest Tuna, (Terrific Tuna for the brand name folks), Broccoli (Broccoli Bonanza), Brussel Sprout (Bodacious Brussel Sprout), I Can't Believe it's Not Eggplant! (that one needs no marketing boost, the exclamation point sells it) and the aforementioned Sweat Sock (Sweet Sock). The cool thing about Sweet Sock, is that you can name the dosage with fun stuff like "Short Stroll" for the kiddie version, "Long Hike in the Woods" for the adults and "New York Marathon Strength" with codeine. I KNOW he won't seek them out if there's no pain. If there is pain, he'll have to weigh the benefit of the medicine against it's horrid flavour. Everybody wins.
2. If you must make Grape, Bubblegum and Orange Burst, kindly include in the 20-tablet bottle at least five placebos. It will help if I can give him something with absolutely no medicinal ingredients to help my gauge his progress. I mean, if the placebos work, I know I can send him to school with a couple that he can take if the "pain" becomes too much. Everybody wins.
Your welcome for the suggestions.
Anyhoo, it's now Thursday morning. We made it from 8 p.m. to 5 a.m. on a single dose. This is good news!

And speaking of good news, here is my little hydroponic project, Day 9:
Lemon Basil and Oregano
Italian Basil

Have a great Thursday.

There has been a lot of controversy around breastfeeding lately.

Retail stores have told people they couldn’t do it within their walls. Formula companies implied that formula was a better route. It’s like breastfeeding is being silently marketed as obscene or something.

With all the swirling hatred on the topic, I thought my son and I should share our thoughts…

BREASTFEEDING:
GOT A PROBLEM? SUCK IT.

For those who have trouble producing milk or choose not to breastfeed, this isn’t directed at you. This is for the idiots who have a “problem” with breastfeeding and get all bent out of shape about something that women have been doing for eons.

I thought this photo of my wife and son would be most appropriate for you ridiculous few. Enjoy.

–

Need more boobie posts? Then, you’ll like this link a whole lot.

INFOGRAPHIC HELP Because you’re not getting any stupider about parenting, unless you look at those.
 

Wow, among the interesting items Andrew scouted out at Cologne specialty auction house W.G. Herr's most recent sale: this sweet, Swedish, molded ply rocking horse.

The label said it was a special edition made in 1970 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Nässjömöbel, a venerable furnituremaker which has been apparently wiped from the face of the Internet except for this horse. It's like the end of A.I., where the aliens just find the robot kid buried in the car or whatever.

Schaukelpferd, Nässjömöbel, 1970, sold for EUR200 [herr-auktionen.de via aapc]
1970's Nässjömöbel rocking horse, etc. [an ambitious project collapsing]

Previously: related: Brio molded ply rocking ox, also from Sweden, c. 1967
Lost Eames molded ply rocking horse

greg

Sometime ago we began a thing where the kids can opt to have their dessert in the bathtub.

That usually only happens when it's what you'd expect: popsicles or a lollipop.

Not Raisin Bran, which is what K2 insisted she really, really wanted for dessert. In the bathtub.

I really have no idea sometimes.

greg