When my daughter started potty training, I was introduced to the world of toddler underpants that come smothered in the 2-D world of licensed characters. While I can sort of see the incentive of wearing your favorite talking animal on your bum, I’d like to think that there are other options.Read More
Month: May 2007
Kids today, they’ve got it so good. Back in my day, toys were made of plastic. We played with their semisynthetic choloride polymer parts, and no one complained. But now we’ve grown up and want something completely better for our offspring, something like our great-grandparents might have owned.
Who says that kids have to eat off of plates with ducks or chickens or other barnyard animals on them? Besides if you ask me, there’s got to be some sort of bad karma when it comes to feeding a kid a burger on a plate featuring a cute cartoon cow.
Don’t ask me why exactly I still have the ribbons off the generic going-home gift the hospital gave us, but I do. I save and document everything, which is all well and good when you’ve got a first year baby journal to fill up, but after that you’re pretty much to your own devices. Can you say "shoeboxes?"
The consensus at Cool Mom Picks headquarters is that we don’t love licensed character products as a first choice for gifts. The only problem is, our kids generally do. So being the lovingparentsthat we are, we’ll occasionally cross the line to make our kids happy — or in this case, totally indebted to us for life.
There are a few things in life that you don’t realize you need until someone gives you it to you. And then you can’t believe you ever lived without them. Like that battery operated "massager." Thin Mints in the freezer. And personalized note cards.
We’ve officially hit the temperatures in my neck o’ the woods where icy cold liquid refreshments are starting to be top of mind. And just in time, we’ve turned up this totally clever and very official LEGO ice cube tray.
I’m embarrassed to say it took me a long time to learn mommy lesson #416: No matter how much of a rush you are in, never throw a bottle or sippy cup into your purse. The learning curve cost me a new cell phone battery and way too many hours getting orange juice pulp out my lovely bag.
When I cracked open a review copy of The Complete Book of Baby Names by Leslie Bolton in search for a name for my yet unnamed fetus, I was expecting the same old same old.
The way I see it, the poor little gestating fetus has been naked for a full nine months. It’s only fair that once he or she starts breathing oxygen that you swap that hospital-issue swaddling blanket and cap for something a bit more worthy.