Who needs TRU?

When I was a kid, my little brothers and I were spoiled. Sure, at the time we were ignorant of our bliss, but I can now look back and see just how lucky we were. The eldest of the grandchildren on both sides, we were doted on constantly. To this end, we also received tons of gifts ... everything from Big Wheels to the must-have of 1984, the Cabbage Patch doll that my fabulous aunt waited hours in line and apparently tripped another woman for.

With all these glittering toys at our disposal, it only makes sense that our favorite play thing would be an empty cardboard box.

Image courtesy P&G

Remember that? The old-school Pampers boxes were massive, and had a preforated front to access the diapers within. Once empty, this hole was the perfect size for the butt of a four-year-old and the box could be instantly transformed into the coolest race car in the Northeast.

The brother and I would hold living room Indy 500s reguarly, my father providing the engine as he pushed us in our boxes across the carpeted floor. As in NASCAR, collisions were the best part.

It should be no surprise to me, then, that H's favorite playthings aren't really toys at all. Sure, he adores his Sophie and will play for, well, minutes with his Sassy rings. But H's most cherished objects are tissues.

If we walk by a box, H instantly becomes a gymnist, arching his back and twisting his arms so he can pull a puffy white square from the top before I notice. He waves it in the air like a victory flag, throws it up and watches with glee as it slowly flutters to the ground. Then he scoops it back up, hugs it (yes, he seriously holds it to his heart), then quickly shoves it into his mouth.

This is when the biggest grins begin. My guess is he digs the way the thin fibers stick to his tongue, but he'll just sit there, waving his arms up in down doing the happy dance, as the tissue hangs from his mouth. Eventually, he'll begin shredding the poor thing, which is when Mean Mommy steps in and declares play time over.

No worries, though. With six boxes placed about the house, H knows his next adventure is only a short time away.

Dear crib manufacturers,

Hi there. Maxed-Out Mommy, aka Mel, here. What's up?

So, I know you are a part of the oh-so-special baby-gear industry, which automatically gives you the right to create recall-laden products with over-the-top pricetags. Congrats. Hope it's been treating you well.

I discovered this weekend that apparently this also allows you to produce totally inane instruction manuals and items that require the dexterity of a neurosurgen. Which is great because, you know, us moms have the time and energy for that.

See, it was determined by W and I this weekend that it was time to lower H's crib. He's a strong sitter and puller-upper (is that a real term?) now, and while he can't get from laying to standing yet, I assume the fateful day is near. And I'd prefer that when it does occur, it not be met with my son tumbling head-first onto the hardwoods. And so, the decision to adjust the mattress.

Here's where you guys come in. See, my hubs and I had some silly thought that this could be done in a five minute span by one person. Oh, not so. After tearing the crib apart and littering the nursery floor with sheets, blankets, crib skirt, and mattress, and then staring at the frame for an embarassing amount of time trying to figure out WTF I was supposed to do, I swallowed my pride and went on a hunt for the instructions. Which were of absolutely no help at all. You guys are worse than the mute Ikea monster.

Eventually, I came up with a plan of attack. But I was not strong enough to loosen the necessary wing nuts (or so that's what I'm told they are called). Neither was W (heheh). It took three different trips to the toolbox and a team effort to get those suckers lose. And then a trip to the medicine cabinet for some extra strenth Excedrin to move the diddly-bobs to the new hole-thingers.

Thankfully, H just sat on the floor watching us like the clowns we were, intermitently throwing the crib skirt on his head to hide his shame.

In the end, we achieved our goal. The mattress is lower. A whole 2 inches lower. How this is supposed to make a difference, I ain't got a clue.

So thank you for your bare-bones attempt at customer service and client retention. Way to be.

Hugs & Kisses,

MOM's gotta-have baby gear

OK, you don't HAVE to have these. Hell, I've read tons of articles on how little you really do need when it comes to an infant. But with six months under my belt, I've been through the aisles of BRU more times than I'll admit and have learned what works, what doesn't, and what should officially replace sliced bread as the best thing ever. I also have a number of friends who will be first-time parents soon and have been asking me what they ::really:: need. So, behold, Maxed-Out Mommy's picks.

Boppy

Who knew a silly-shaped pillow would be such a lifesaver. During the marathon nursing sessions of H's first weeks, the Boppy saved my poor arms from falling off. As he got a little bigger it was his first recliner, and when he was mastering sitting we'd wrap it around his butt for some support. I still use it to nurse - it's just so freakin easy why not?

The Children's Place Stetchies PJs

No matter how chill your little one, place a baby on a changing table and suddenly they are a wiggle worm. At night, I get to add screaming to the mix as H knows the routine by heart and knows as soon as the PJs are on, he gets to eat, and he wants to get to that point NOW. However, so many PJs on the market come with 3733863 snaps up the legs and chest, resulting in a 20 minute changing. These zip right up the front: baby is in and happy in 20 seconds. Plus they are darn cute.

Halo Sleep Sack Swaddle

AKA the Baby Straight Jacket. AKA the Baby Burrito. W and I had plenty of names for this contraption, but it's no joke. Babies love to be swaddled, and swaddling with a traditional blanket can be like oragami. This makes it so simple and easy, plus it keeps baby warm all night. H has now moved up to the classic Halo Sleep Sacks and I'm still a fan.

Baby Trend Snap N Go

I was amazed at how much research simple things like car seats and strollers require. I'm so glad I did my reading, though, and found this little gadget. Remove carseat holding sleeping baby from car, pop on top of this, and go! Suddenly stroller! Plus, it's sooo light -- I can hold it with one finger, no lie. H is getting bigger so we'll be moving to the "big boy stroller" soon, but for the first few months, this is the bestest.

Sophie The Giraffe

It's a rubber giraffe. And it's like $20. And it looks like my dog's chew toys. I know. I had the same look on my face when I received this at a baby shower, but the cult following is justified. Sophie is the best lil teether. Her gangly legs are great for molars while her beaked nose helps out in the front. H loves her and when his gums are screaming, he goes right for her. Who would have guessed?

Boogie Wipes

The phrase "snot-nosed kid" is no lie. At any given moment, H has a crust of boogers around his nose, some tear streaks by his eyes, and probably a chunk of sweet potato in his neck rolls. Tissues and wet paper towells are quick fixes, but they don't break up the mucusy gunk -- these do! It's simple saline, so it's safe for the little ones, but it cuts through the crap quickly and without scrubbing. Which means my kid doesn't look like he was just riffling around in my garbage can.

Fisher Price Rainforest Soother

I wasn't a fan of most mobiles on the market when I was decorating H's room. Plus, knowing I'd have to taken it down by 6 months for safety reasons made me question spening the dough on something at all. Enter the soother. It has all the interest and sounds of a mobile -- a swinging monkey and bubbling fish with a nature sounds and music track -- but can be placed in the crib. H loved it from day one and now he can push the button himself when he wakes up from naps for some entertainment while mom gets her butt up the stairs.

Have a product you don't think you would have made it this long without? Lemme know!