Biscuit's a funny little man

A post from The Daddy Man:

Kim had to work Saturday, so the boy and I stayed home. I had a bad cold, and Biscuit had gotten himself a raging case of pink eye. Needless to say, it wasn't a fun day.

Biscuit couldn't decide whether he wanted to be held or put down to walk around on his own. He was sleepy but he didn't want a nap.

As I surfed the TV channels looking for something to watch, I came across a bluegrass quartet singing on a public access channel. Biscuit stopped right in front of the TV and didn't move a muscle until the group had sung two whole songs.

And then when the third song started, Biscuit walked over to the piano and while still looking at the TV, he started playing the piano with one little hand. I think my boy likes music.

Then later in the day, some church kids came around selling candy bars. So Biscuit followed me to the door and was all excited about seeing the little kids.

After I gave them my dollar, I closed the door and Biscuit watched the kids walk back up the sidewalk. He was tapping his hands on the glass, talking to the kids as they were leaving. But once they rounded the corner and he couldn't see them anymore, he sat down on the floor and just wailed. He was inconsolable.

I guess he thought they would stay and play or something, but it was clear that he was not ready for them to go away.

He's a funny little man.

Chairs are great!

Biscuit has learned recently that chairs are great. He has figured out that it's fun to figure out how to get your rear end planted in one to sit down for a while ...

And, he's learned that if nobody is watching close enough, you can also finagle your way into STANDING UP in chairs, too!

HE BIT ME!!!!!

My Biscuit has 6, count 'em, 6 teeth now. And he's learning how to use them on all sorts of things, including furniture, coasters, toys, clothes, sippy cups, food and most recently ... MY FINGER!!!

Here's the proof (and don't look at my horribly dry cuticles!):

School pictures

Can you believe that they take school pictures even in the infant room at Biscuit's day care? This is actually the second time he's had them taken. They do some in the spring and some in the winter.

I asked the teacher if they propped his hand up on that sleigh in the first picture, and she said not only did he prop his hand up on his own, he also crossed his feet like that. I guess he's so used to having a camera stuck in his face that he knew exactly what to do!

Here's our Biscuit, posing for the photographer.

He won't go nekkid, Part 2

Back during the spring, I wrote a post about all the clothes Biscuit had. We have several hand-me-down hookups, and we were very lucky at our showers to get clothes in various sizes up to 18 months.

Biscuit is still small for his age, so he hasn't gone through clothes as fast as a lot of kids do. He turned a year old on Nov. 9, but he's still wearing a few 9-month size outfits. Most of what he has now is the 12-month size, though.

Biscuit seems to be built like Jeff. He has a long torso and shorter legs. So we have to cuff most of his pants so they won't drag the floor and trip him.

So here's the update. In the 12-month size, Biscuit has:

- 47 pairs of pants
- 32 shirts/onesies
- 19 pairs of pajamas (8 pairs of the fuzzy warm ones for winter)
- 6 jackets and 2 heavy coats

I guess he won't go nekkid this winter, either.

One of my friends is having a baby in early December. I was telling her husband about all the clothes Biscuit has, and then I said, "Do you know what that means?" He asked what, and I said, "It means that next winter, YOUR baby will have 47 pairs of pants, 32 shirts/onesies, 19 pairs of pajamas, 6 jackets and 2 heavy coats!"

Grits and eggs are a requirement!

I had hot chocolate and popcorn as a snack this afternoon, and it took me back to my childhood.

After church some Sundays, my girlfriends and I would go home with each other to spend the afternoon. And at one particular friend's house, her mama always made hot chocolate and popcorn for us to have while we played Barbies.

Then I started wondering what foods would take Biscuit back to his childhood when he's older.

He's doing better with his eating. He hasn't had a bottle in almost a week, and he just hasn't seemed to mind. He loves drinking milk from a sippy cup, and he's getting better at chewing.

Ms. Terri at Biscuit's day care does all the cooking, and she is super excited that Biscuit has started eating some of the regular food at lunch time. One day he ate two chicken nuggets, a few bites of corn and some peaches. Then another day, he had chicken and rice, green beans and applesauce. I'm not sure why Ms. Terri has taken such a liking to our boy, but she makes quite a fuss when I take him in every morning.

She laughed last week because I told her that on rainy nights, Mama would often make breakfast for supper. We'd have grits, eggs and bacon. She said her family did the same thing. So on a rainy night last week, I cooked grits and eggs for us.

I chopped the eggs up into little pieces and stirred them in Biscuit's grits. Then I used one of his little spoons and started to feed it to him. I'm not sure if it was the mixing of textures or what, but he would reach into his mouth with two little fingers, pull out the pieces of egg and swallow the grits right down!

I told Ms. Terri about it, and she said, "Oh boy. We need to fix that. You HAVE to eat grits and eggs." I agree!

I'll keep working on it.

Happy Birthday, Biscuit!

I wasn't sure what we should do for Biscuit's first birthday. I didn't know if I should have a party for his day care friends and some other babies he spends time with or if I should invited a few of my friends over or if it should just be me, Jeff and Biscuit hanging out at home.

I was leaning toward the last choice, because let's face it, Biscuit wasn't going to know the difference. But I was quickly told my Mama and my sister-in-law that there would be a party of some kind.

So finally, I figured out a quick and easy way to do it. Samantha's birthday is only a week away from Biscuit's. So on the weekend we went to S.C. for Samantha's party, we could also throw Biscuit a gathering with just family. Samantha's party was on Saturday, and I figured since everybody comes to Mama's house to eat on Sundays, that we could just add a cake and some presents onto the end of the meal.

I made a small cake just for Biscuit and covered it with Cool Whip and a couple of spots of icing. Then I made a regular cake for the rest of us to eat. I found this cute little decoration kit for a high chair. It included a plastic floor mat to catch flying cake and a first-birthday banner that went around the edges of the high chair tray. Someone had given him a My First Birthday bib, so with all of that in place, we were ready for a party.

I put his cake in front of him, and at first, he wasn't sure what to do. Then he stuck one finger in the Cool Whip and brought it to his mouth. He decided it was pretty good, so he went back for more. He ate pretty much all of the Cool Whip off first, then he beat the daylights out of the cake part with his little hands.

After cake, we stripped him down, cleaned him up and put him in a new outfit. Then we took him into the living room to open presents. As with the cake, he wasn't sure at first what to do with the presents. And that's where the cousins came in. They helped him unwrap his gifts, and then came playtime.

He took a push-toy he got into the kitchen, and when Jeff went to check on him, he yelled to the living room, "I think the boy wants more cake." I asked why he thought that, and Jeff said, "Because he's eating the pieces that fell on the floor!"

Oh well. Maybe he'll get some manners before his second birthday!

My Halloween Monkey

I've got so many Biscuit blogs to write that I had to make a list. I figured since it's already late into November, we'll back up and talk about Halloween.

I hadn't planned on doing Halloween for Biscuit this year. He couldn't eat any candy he got while trick-or-treating. He couldn't wear a mask or any makeup. Prime time for trick-or-treating was right around his bedtime. And with the flu floating around everywhere, I didn't really want to expose him to all those people.

But I was in Walmart and they had these cute little costumes that were made like footed pajamas. Plus, they were on sale for a really good price. So I couldn't help myself. I bought Griffin a little monkey suit!

I still didn't want to take him from house to house, so I asked Jeff to bring him into the office the Friday afternoon before Halloween so I could show him off.

So here's my little Halloween monkey.

Oh yeah? Back atcha, lady!

The road in front of Biscuit's day care is a busy four-lane street with a turn lane in the middle. The problem is that you have to get into that turn lane just after passing through an intersection. And there are those oh-so-nice drivers going the other direction who get into the turn lane about half a block before the intersection and often have to swerve back out of the turn lane to keep from running head on into us.

They desperately want to make a left at the intersection and don't seem to understand why I need to be in their way in the turn lane.

I've complained about this from the first day I took Biscuit to day care. Jeff has empathized with me, but he had never experienced it for himself until last week.

He offered to take Biscuit to day care one morning when I was running late, and I took him up on it. Jeff said he turned on his blinker and pulled into the turn lane. As he looked up, this old white station wagon was barreling toward them, moving gradually into the turn lane. He said he was starting to get nervous because the car wasn't slowing down fast enough.

Finally, the station wagon came to a stop right in front of his car. Behind the wheel was an 80-year-old woman. Jeff smiled and motioned to the day care center to let her know why he was where he was. And she just stared at him and sat there. So he motioned again, and this time even mouthed the words, "I'm going to the day care center."

I'm not sure if the woman was half-blind and couldn't see what Jeff was trying to tell her or if she was just mean, but the next thing Jeff knew, that little old lady's arthritic middle finger popped up from behind her steering wheel. Then she yanked the wheel of her car back into traffic almost getting plowed by a truck.

Jeff was so stunned by her actions, he didn't know whether to be mad or just laugh at her. I guess there isn't an age limit on road rage.

Expanding the menu

Biscuit is finally starting to accept the fact that he will at some point have to eat food with texture.

Remember the "swallowing razorblades" post from last week?

Tonight for dinner, I baked him a sweet potato and added a little bit of butter and cinnamon. And I steamed some broccoli and carrots and put them in a light garlic sauce. He ate about 6 or 8 tiny bites of broccoli with no bad faces or cringes. The carrots weren't quite as well received (I can't really blame him here. I don't like carrots, either!). Then he had about 6 or 8 small bites of the sweet potato.

And for a special post-dinner treat, he had pieces of a ripe banana. I think he would've eaten the whole thing if I had let him.

But I figure his eating is like everything else. He'll get there when he's ready. And until he complains, I'll just keep shoving different foods into his little mouth.

Limited access

Until recently, Biscuit has had pretty much unlimited access to the kitchen cabinets. I wanted to see how interested he was going to be before I went to the trouble of installing cabinet latches.

Let's just say he was more than a little interested.

For the past week, I've had a thick dish towel threaded through the cabinet handles under the kitchen sink (those cabinets hold cleaners and chemicals) and a pair of cabinets across the room (they hold candles, vases, candleholders and other breakables). The dish towels were working fine, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he figured out how to finagle his way in.

So imagine his surprise when he saw that the dish towels were gone. Then imagine his disappointment when he jerked the door, thinking it would fly right open, only to have his little arm stopped short by a little white latch.

He doesn't like the latches one little bit. He spent a good part of this evening jerking the doors and yelling at them.

You could almost see the lightbulb flash above his little head when he made an about face and headed toward the Tupperware cabinet. I swear, he almost looked panicked. But he jerked on the door, and it popped right open. He turned and faced me, then gave me this huge grin, as if to say, "Okay. As long as I have the Tupperware, we'll all be fine."

His new name

Biscuit has a new name. Or at least he does to two of the little girls in the toddler class.

Biscuit's morning teacher is finishing up her degree at a college in town. On the days she has classes, if there are only a few toddlers, they sometimes combine the toddlers class with the infants until Biscuit's teacher arrives.

Yesterday morning was one such morning. It was fun to see the toddlers because the three that were there were in Biscuit's infant class when he started day care back in February. It's amazing to see how much they've changed since then. Of course, I say that every day about Biscuit, too.

Anyway, when I brought Biscuit into class, I set him down and two little girls immediately ran right up into his face. One was yelling, "Fiffin! Fiffin! Fiffin!" and the other was yelling "Fifi! Fifi! Fifi!"

I can't say I like them calling my boy names that sound appropriatefor a miniature poodle, but it's really nice to see him playing well with others.

The proof is in the video

I finally have proof that Biscuit can walk.

Do you know how hard it is to catch him on video? I had to trick him by running down the hall and calling his name over and over.

So here he is doing his drunk Frankenstein stroll. :)

Musical genius

I’m not at all biased when I say that our Biscuit is a musical genius! He can play two instruments at once while singing his little head off.

I was worried that once he found the guitar and piano in our living room, that we’d have to teach him (as with the TV and DVD player) that those are hands-off items. But the first time he touched the guitar, he was really gentle. He rubbed the slick finish on the body of it. Then he reached up and plucked one string like he knew exactly how to do it.

In his process to get better leverage, he reached up to grab the piano. His fingers just happen to hit right on a couple of notes, and to his surprise, that thing made noise, too!

So he spent about 15 minutes plucking a guitar string, then hitting a piano note, then yelling some kind of sing-songy noise. I’m telling you, we can put some cymbals between the boy’s knees and we’ll have a one-man band!

Here’s the debut of Biscuit, musical talent extraordinaire.

Swallowing razor blades

Biscuit loves to eat. It’s a fact.

If he sees you making a bottle or you strap him in his high chair, you better be ready to stick something in his mouth. Otherwise, he will whine and fuss and holler like he’s never eaten in his life.

The funny thing is that he has so much patience with pretty much everything else. But not food.

So I assumed that he would be raring to go when it came time to let him start trying finger foods. I was wrong!

The first time I tried to give him one of the little puffs that are specifically made for babies who are just starting to eat real food, he gagged and choked, and I finally had to yank him out of his seat and beat him on the back until he spit it up (the puff and half his lunch).

It rattled my nerves way more than it rattled him, so I had to wait a little while before we tried something like that again.

So now that he has four teeth with two more on the way, I figured he was ready. Wrong again!

I’ve tried to give him mashed potatoes, squished banana, bread crumbs and a few other things, but he wanted none of it. He gagged and licked his tongue out and made horrible faces, pretty much like I was asking him to swallow razor blades.

So I bought some of the Level 3 baby food to try. It has the same flavors he’s used to, but the consistency is thicker and even has a few tiny chunks of pasta and veggies.

The first couple of jars were rough. But then I started sending them to day care and giving them to him for dinner. Between all of us, I think we’re finally seeing some progress.

This past Monday night, I baked him a sweet potato and put some butter and cinnamon on it. He ate about five bites of it. I had made a spaghetti squash with garlic and parmesan for Jeff and me, so I figured, why not, and gave him a few pieces of that. I could tell his was a little freaked out by it, but he ate it just fine. I can’t tell you how excited I am at the prospect of this kid loving garlic like Jeff and I do! So then Jeff broke off a few little shreds of broccoli and gave them to him. He chewed a little bit and swallowed it right down.

Biscuit can’t move up to the next class at day care until he eats table food, so it’s making me feel better that he’s making progress.

Maybe next week we’ll feed him some pizza and a steak!

Gimme two steps

The moment has arrived, and now we’re in trouble. The Biscuit is starting to walk. Lock up your valuables, everybody!

Lately, when he stands, you’ll see him holding on with one hand, but when he swaps to hold on with the other hand, there’s a quick second when he’s not holding on at all. The first time Jeff and I saw this, we exchanged a look that was half “DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” and half “Lord, help us. This child is heading for trouble!” We knew that it was only a matter of time.

So one night a couple of weeks ago, Biscuit was crawling behind me as I walked from the living room to the kitchen, and he was whimpering because he couldn’t keep up with me. So when he got to the kitchen, I squatted down in the floor and helped him stand up. Then I just let go of his hands, and he took two steps right back into my arms.

It was amazing! And yes, I cried. Partly because it was so exciting and partly because I can’t believe how fast he’s growing.

He’s up to walking short distances now, and he’s starting to stand up without having to hold on to anything. It’s really funny to watch him figure out his balance when he finally makes it upright.

So watch out world, The Biscuit is mobile!

Why is there a colander under the table?

Once Biscuit started crawling, he soon discovered that there were all kinds of areas of the house that he hadn’t explored.

He can run his hand up and down the return vent for the heating and air system and make a really cool noise. He can slip and slide around in his pajamas on the hardwood floors in the dining room, including spinning around in circles if he gets his hands adjusted just right. He can stand by himself at the doors in the kitchen and watch the wonderful world of the backyard.

With all of those new and cool options, you wouldn’t think that the most fun he’s had recently was when he discovered the Tupperware cabinet!

We call it the Tupperware cabinet, but it holds all the assorted Tupperware, Rubbermaid, Ziploc and Glad plastic containers we have. All sizes of round, square and rectangle bowls with floppy lids, plus a few other cool items including colanders, pitchers and the old-fashioned ketchup and mustard squeeze bottles.

This, apparently, is Baby Heaven. It contains all the things that can make my little Biscuit happy. I can’t even pack up supper leftovers without him pulling out bowls and lids and whatever else he can get his hands on.

I usually go behind him and stack everything back in its place. But one day last week, Jeff came home and said, “Um, why is the colander under the kitchen table?”

I rolled my eyes at him, pointed to Biscuit and said, “Guess!”

The Important Stuff

Jeff and I had to go to a funeral Saturday afternoon for a co-worker's father, and it got me thinking.

First of all, after years of hassling my brother about getting a will done, I realize that now more than ever, Jeff and I need to make a will, too. I want to make sure that Biscuit is taken care of, moneywise and by making sure that he would have a place to go if something happened to Jeff and me.

But the thing that really got me about the funeral is when the man's sons talked about him. They said things like, "My dad was the greatest man I've ever known" and "I've never known a better person."

Hearing those comments really hit home for me. They made me want to try to be a better person for Biscuit. I know there are plenty of things Jeff and I will screw up while we're raising this little boy, but I hope one day that he can be proud of us like I'm sure we'll be proud of him.

Gotta go!

When my boy's gotta go, he's gotta go!!!

In the kiddie pool at the campground, they had these yellow bumps that squirted water out of each side. Griffin must've spent half an hour just putting his hands in the water and watching as it splashed all over his face and body.

When Grandmama Stacks tried to sit him on top of one of the fountains, I was just at the right angle to get this shot.

Hey, what's the point of having kids if you can't embarrass them once in a while?!?

He ain't skeered!

Saying that I'm afraid of water doesn't quite do justice to the fear that I have. It's only been a few years since I started putting my head under the water in the shower instead of wetting a washcloth to clean my face.

I'm not sure where my fear came from. I didn't almost drown or lose my family in a tragic boating accident. I was never tortured by anyone plunging my head under water. So where did the fear come from? I don't know.

I've wondered if it's DNA. That it might be genetic. That I was born with a fear of water and drowning. Which of course led me to consider that if that's the case, the fear could be passed on to Biscuit.

I missed out on so much because I couldn't swim ... pool parties, skinny-dipping, cannonballs off the diving board, rope swings that send you flying into a pond. But it wasn't just that I didn't know how to swim. It was that I really couldn't swim. I couldn't get any deeper in the water than my shoulders without starting to hyperventilate.

So imagine how happy I was when Biscuit thoroughly enjoyed himself in the kiddie pool on a recent camping trip we took.

The kiddie pool was zero entry, so I held his hands and led him into the water. I figured he'd stop once his feet got wet. But nope, he kept going. He kept walking until the water was up to his chest. And the best part? He wasn't the least bit scared.

I leaned him over so he could put him arms under the water, too. And I swear, if I had let the kid go, he would've glided through that water like a tadpole! He was making all the right motions.

It took everything I had to stay calm, but I didn't want him to sense any kind of anxious feelings from me.

Bending over to help him walk doesn't feel great on your back after a while, so I thought I would lead him out of the water to take a break. He planted his feet and wouldn't move another inch. He was not ready to get out.

I'm so excited that he didn't inherit the water fear. I'm hoping to get him swimming lessons soon. But until then, I'm satisfied knowing that he ain't skeered!

Where did September go?

I have no idea where September went. We went camping with my family the second weekend, and after that, I can't recall much of anything that happened.

I checked in and realized that I had only written one blog for the whole month. I asked Jeff, "How could that have happened?"

Then he reminded me. I usually write blogs on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, but high school and college football start in September, so Jeff has to work on the copydesk every Friday night to help with the high school stuff, then he has to go to and write stories about a college football game every Saturday, which, including travel, takes pretty much the whole day. So by the time Sunday rolls around, I'm ready for us to spend some time together (and I'm ready for someone else to run around chasing Biscuit, too!).

So I guess I need to find a new blog writing time ... at least until football season is over.

Oh wait ... then comes college basketball.

One for each hand

Biscuit has figured out that he has two hands. And most of the time these days, he wants to have something in each of those hands.

His new favorite two-handed toys? Socks. That boy can amuse himself for an hour straight with a sock in each hand.

He can sit still and wave them around his head. He can crawl with one in each hand, although it does get pretty dicey once he gets to the hardwood floors in the dining room. As he's crawling, his hands slide too far out in front of him, and he ends up lying on his belly. Then he gets frustrated and starts fussing.

Once he's done with the socks, he'll sometimes grab a block in each hand and try to crawl. It sounds like a pirate with a peg leg walking through the house.

When my niece Alyssa was little, she always wanted something in each of her hands, too, but it was usually something to eat. Jeff used to love to see her walking around holding her little hands in the air, dropping cookie crumbs as she waddled.

As a matter of fact, any time I make cookies, I always have to give Jeff two at a time so he can raise them over his head and copy Alyssa's waddle.

So I guess Biscuit gets his two-handed playtime honest from his Daddy.

Out of the mouth of my babe

There's a lot going on with Biscuit's mouth these days.

He's got two pretty little teeth on the bottom in the middle. And he's getting ready to get the two middle ones on the top.

(The picture at right was when the bottom teeth were about halfway through.)

The first tooth gave Biscuit fits. He had a fever, tenderness, diarrhea (which I didn't even know could happen with teething), diaper rash, grumpiness and obviously, mouth pain. We quickly learned that Infant Tylenol and Baby Orajel are our friends.

Because of this, when the second tooth popped in, it really did seem like that's how it happened. It just popped right in ... no pain, no drama.

We're still waiting to see what happens with the top teeth. So far, he's just become the ultimate slobber master. It's worse than having a little puppy around the house. We walk around constantly stepping in little puddles of drool, and we sit down on furniture with wet spots on the edges. Any time we hold him, we either have drool down the fronts of our shirts or on our shoulders. And if we're sitting with our legs propped up, he'll use our legs as chew toys. It isn't so bad right now with only two teeth, but I predict a few bite marks in the coming weeks.

The other thing that's been coming from Biscuit's mouth lately is all sorts of noises. He's mastered the da-da-da, ma-ma-ma, ba-ba-ba noises. I'm not sure how long it will be before he makes those noises and realizes that he's referring to Jeff, me or his bottle.

Biscuit also makes all sorts of random noises. He has a motorboat noise (play video below). It's really funny when he makes that noise as he crawls. It sounds like he has a little motor that's making him go. He also makes a lot of razzing noise (also, see video below). And he makes just plain ol' hollering, whining, laughing, humming, mumbling types of noises (you guessed it, see video below).

I can't imagine what it's going to be like to hear actual words coming from that little mouth. Of course, I'm sure in a few years, when the attitude kicks in, I'll be wishing for the days when all he could say was da-da-da, ma-ma-ma and ba-ba-ba.

Stylin' New Kicks

Biscuit is now the proud owner of a brand-spankin' new pair of Carter's tennis shoes (Jeff calls them sneakers, but we're still debating which term our Biscuit baby will use!).

One of the questions I had for the doctor at Biscuit's checkup was what kind of shoes he needs. He's not walking yet, but we are doing the practice runs with him by holding his hands and leading him around the house.

Biscuit and I are going to S.C. for Grandmama Stacks' birthday this weekend, and I knew my nieces and nephew would want to help him practice, too. So I figured we should go ahead and get something to protect his little feet.

The doctor said that some people would disagree with him, but that for right now, all he needs is some soft, comfy shoes that will protect his feet from any sticks or rocks he might step on. These little Carter's shoes are just the ticket.

I was surprised to learn, though, that just as the rules have changed about most everything baby-related, the shoe guidelines are different now, too. You used to have to get those white leather boots with the hard soles. Now, they say that the babies should go barefoot as much as possible so their feet can feel the floor. They say it helps adjust their balance and stride.

Of course, our parents put us to sleep on our bellies with a bottle propped up on a folded blanket without washing off our teeth, after we rode in the front seat of the car with no car seat or seatbelt swigging whiskey and smoking Camel unfiltereds. Okay, maybe we didn't do the last two things, but I'm just saying that it's amazing how much the rules have changed.

But like everything else baby-related, I think you just have call your mama, use some common sense and just do the best you can. And Biscuit will do the best he can in some stylin' new kicks!

9-Month Doctor Visit

I can't believe that Biscuit is 9 months old already. I took him for his checkup last week.

He fell asleep on the way from day care to the doctor, so when we got to the office, I put him in his stroller and wheeled him inside. The receptionist and nurses ooh-ed and ahh-ed over him. And I said, "Yeah, he's cute when he's asleep." I've used that line before, and it's gotten good laughs. But apparently, the people at the doctor's office just aren't my audience.

We really like the pediatrician practice we choose. There are about 8 doctors, so on the few occasions we've had to get an appointment quickly (one ear infection, one shot reaction and one case of the croop), they've always worked us in with no problem and no complaints. We also like all the doctors we've seen so far, especially the primary care guy we chose for him.

Biscuit weighed in at 18 pounds and 8 ounces, and he's 27 1/2 inches long.

Then the questions started. Babies have their first checkup appointment usually a day or two after you get home from the hospital. Then at 1 month, 2 months, 3 months, 6 months, 9 months and 1 year. So seeing as this was our sixth checkup appointment, you'd think I'd know the routine.

I did start getting him undressed as soon as we went back. You have to have them in a dry diaper for the weigh-in. But I always seem to forget about the questions. And they're the kinds of questions that always make you feel put on the spot. You know, like when someone asks your address or phone number when you didn't realize they were going to ask for your address or phone number.

They ask things like:

1. How many hours does your baby sleep during the day?
2. How many hours does he sleep at night?
3. How often do you feed the baby?
4. What do you feed the baby?
5. How active is the baby?
6. How is the baby's temperament?
7. How many diapers does your baby go through a day (specify how many wet and how many messy)?
8. How well does your baby control his or her head?
9. Does your baby imitate your facial expressions and sounds?
10. Does your baby put objects into his or her mouth?
11. Does your baby attempt to roll over?
12. Can your baby sit with support?
13. Does your baby pull up into a standing position?
14. Does your baby use individual fingers to pick up small objects?

And here are the answers:

1. 2 or 3 hours in short naps
2. Anywhere between 10 and 12 hours
3. Three times a day plus a couple of snacks
4. Three 8-ounce bottles of formula and about 6 or 7 jars of baby food a day
5. He can crawl and sit up on his own, and he's starting to pull up on anything that will hold his weight. He jumps and jumps and jumps in his exer-saucer and loves to bang the daylights out of his toys.
6. He's a lot like his dad ... slow to anger and pretty laid back. He usually only cries when he's hungry, tired or doesn't feel well.
7. 8-10 wet ones and lately, 3-4 poos (His excrement works in increments.)
8. Very well. Especially if you call his name or he hears a Biscuitville commercial on TV. He also responds to the word "no" so well that Jeff and I have to be careful not to use it too strongly in our conversations or upon hearing that word, he'll drop whatever he has in his hands and look at us for further instruction.
9. He's starting to. He says "ba-ba-ba," "da-da-da" and "ma-ma-ma." Jeff told him that if he knew what was best, he'd go with the "ma-ma-ma" sound and say "mama" first.
10. Everything he can get his little hands on except finger foods. I offer him Cheerios, small chunks of ripe fruit and those little baby puffs, but he has no interest in any of that yet. Because of his teething, he leaves little puddles of slobber and drool everywhere.
11. His roll is more of a flip. And he deploys this move most often while you're attempting diaper changes.
12. Yes. Although, sometimes he sits on a toy, which causes him to lose his balance and fall over. He doesn't like it when that happens.
13. As of this week, yes. Although, he's quickly figuring out which things will hold his weight and which ones won't as he tries to pull up on assorted objects around the house.
14. Not yet. He still uses The Claw to pick things up.

So even though I can sit right here and clearly answer every one of these questions, when the nurse or doctor ask them, I'm like a deer in the headlights.

It didn't help, either, that Jeff couldn't go to this appointment. He had a work commitment. But I sure could have used his help, with more than just answering the questions.

I had some forms to fill out about Biscuit's physical and mental development, and trying to write with my left hand while holding Biscuit in the crook of my right arm, plus trying to keep his eager little hands from grabbing the pen, plus trying to hold the clipboard in place with my elbow ...

I'm just saying, I could've used the help.

Anyway, I had written a list of questions for the doctor and put it in my pocket with my cell phone. But at some point when I answered my phone, I dropped my list. Of course I didn't realize it was gone until I was at the doctor's office. So in between filling out the forms and fending off my nosey little Biscuit, I called Jeff to see if he could help me remember all the questions.

The only paper I had was the forms I was filling out, and I knew I couldn't write on those. So I started making my list on the paper they use to cover the exam tables. When the doctor came in, he asked, "What questions do you have for me?"

I said, "Well, I had to use a corner of this fine tablecloth you have here. Sorry if I messed it up." He laughed and said, "That's part of the appointment, so it belongs to you. You can tear it off and take it home with you if you'd like."

We chatted about Biscuit's development, and he said he was impressed with Biscuit's curiosity and development. I could have told him that we have the best and smartest baby alive, so he wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know! Our doctor has three girls, so he said he'd be glad to take Biscuit off our hands anytime we wanted to hand him over.

But by far, the best part of the appointment was when I realized that I had lied to Biscuit ... but in a good way.

The director at day care said the health nurse had a question about Biscuit's immunization record. She said he was due for his third DPT shot. I thought he had had it already, but I figured I just had it mixed up with one of the other shots he's had.

Come to find out, the way his immunization record printed, it looked like he was due for another shot, but he was all caught up. So I had told him he was getting a shot and then he didn't have to.

I was glad about that, and I'm sure if Biscuit had understood any of our discussion about it, he'd have been glad, too.

So we have a healthy, happy, curious 9-month-old who is caught up on his shots and has some fans at the doctor's office (the doctor included). I hope Biscuit continues to be fascinated and amused by the whole process instead of being afraid to go. Here's hoping!

Power Cords and Cabinet Doors and Trash Cans, Oh My!

As I mentioned last week, our Biscuit is on the move now. And he's getting faster and more skilled every day. Trying to get him to hold still for a diaper change would work a lot better if they made itty bitty straightjackets!

So Jeff and I have been spending a lot of time lately walking around behind this little crawling man. Every so often, he turns around to make sure we're still back there. Then he turns back and heads on his way.

We went ahead and bought a gate for the bottom of the stairs knowing that it wouldn't be long until Biscuit found the steps. I did a lot of research on safety features and installation. Our staircase goes up in the middle of the room, so there aren't walls to connect a gate to.

So I Googled it. What did we ever do before Google?

Anyway, I found several reports of screw-mounted gates that wiggled loose with the movement of the banisters. They also left big, ugly holes in the posts at the bottom of the stairs. One dad (think Tim the Toolman Taylor) suggested that you drill holes all the way through the posts and thread larger-than-needed bolts through with big, clunky nuts on the outside. I'm no interior decorator, but I'm thinking that would not be the most attractive of living room accessories.

I found one woman who had her husband use Zipties to attach their gates. There was also a couple who said they were on the verge of building a permanent fence at the bottom of their steps that they would just step over every time they wanted to go up or down the stairs.

Apparently, my Google search included the words "crazy people" and "lack of common sense."

I changed my search a little and found all I ever needed to know about pressure-mounted gates. They're perfect for when you don't have walls near the stairs, and there's no permanent damage to the banisters. But most importantly, they get the job done. They block the stairs so Mr. Biscuit won't take a tumble.

I found pressure-mounted gates ranging from $20 plastic ones that you step over to $200 fancy scrolled wrought iron ones with a door that opens in the middle. No screws, nails, bolts or Zipties needed.

My first instinct was to go as cheap as I could and still be safe. But the more I looked and the more I thought about it, I decided, if I'm going to have to look at this thing every day for at least a few years, I want it to look nice. Also, I'm not the tallest of people, so I just imagined myself trying to step over a gate while holding Biscuit. Or even worse, I pictured me catching my foot on the top of the step-over gate and tumbling while holding Biscuit down the stairs right into the back of the front door.

That's when I decided that we'd spend more than $20 but still WAY less than $200.

We got this nice wood and metal gate with a self-closing door in the middle that blends in with the decor of the living room. It actually looks kinda nice, as nice as baby protection devices can look, anyway.

So, I've gone to all this trouble and research thinking that I'm doing what's best for my son, only to realize after he started crawling that at least for right now, he has no idea that the stairs even exist. He gets carried up and down them but has shown no interest whatsoever in trying to get up or down them himself.

What does he notice, you ask? Well, all the things I haven't baby-proofed yet, of course.

Power cords and cabinet doors and trash cans, oh my! I guess it's back to the Google search for me.

The rundown

(A post from The Daddy Man)

I took Biscuit into our bedroom to change his diaper. He was wound up, and that's always an adventure.

He squirms and kicks while you're trying to remove the old diaper, sometimes causing more than a little bit of mess. Then he squirms and kicks some more while you try to wrap the new diaper around him. He's also gotten really fast at rolling over. It's more of a flip now than a roll.

We got through the diaper change, and as I was putting back all the tools of the trade, Biscuit flipped over and was gone. He took off crawling for the other side of the bed. He's fearless and will crawl off the bed and fall if he's not stopped.

I got to the other side of the bed to catch him. But when he saw me coming, he turned around and went back the other way. We played this game a couple of times before Kim came in and covered one side while I covered the other.

It was just like a baseball rundown with too many throws.

He's on the move

I know I shouldn't admit this, but at the end of last weekend, I said to Jeff, "I think I liked the boy better when he couldn't move by himself."

We spent the entire weekend saying, "No, Biscuit," "Don't touch that, Biscuit," "Get away from there, Biscuit," "Come back in here, Biscuit."

Yep. He's on the move.

Crawling to safety

The bathroom floor is almost dry now. Earlier today, there were two distinct paths of dampness.

When one of us isn't home and the other one needs to take a shower, Jeff and I take Biscuit in the bathroom with us and let him play. We're lucky that our master bathroom is pretty big, so we spread an afghan out on the floor, throw down some toys, and Biscuit just hangs out.

Until today.

He's been getting more and more mobile, especially over the past week, but I didn't realize how much until today.

Our shower has glass walls, so I could see him playing. But I swear, I think he watched until I needed to close my eyes before he made his move. I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, and when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

I opened the shower door and leaned out. He had scooted and rolled from our bathroom into our bedroom. I grabbed him up, dripping water everywhere, brought him back into the bathroom and closed the door. He didn't like that at all. He rolled back over to the door and hollered at it. Then he rolled onto his back and started banging his feet against the door.

I got back into the shower and got the water adjusted. Then just as I closed my eyes to soap up my face, I realized it had gotten awfullly quiet. I quickly rinsed my face and opened my eyes. I have a knit robe that hangs on the back of the door. It has a long belt that was hanging down just far enough for Biscuit to get his hands on it.

He had one end of the belt in his mouth and was in the process of rolling over. Guess where the belt was. Yep. Wrapped right around his little neck.

I moved a little quicker getting out of the shower this time. I left another trail of damp carpet behind me. By the time I got to him, he had unwrapped himself and was just grinning at me. I did a quick look around to see if there was anything else he could get into. I didn't see anything, so I finished my shower.

I was reading an article online the other day that talked about babyproofing your house. I thought they were going a little overboard when they suggested that the parents should get down on all fours and crawl around the house looking for things the babies could get into.

After my shower experience today, I'm thinking Jeff and I will be doing some crawling around our house next weekend.

Still fireworks friendly

Jeff, Biscuit and I went to a Greensboro Grasshoppers game last night with some friends. We had six tickets, but unfortunately, two of our group couldn't make it.

We missed having them there, but with two empty seats, it worked out well because we had room for Biscuit's stuff without being crowded in our seats. We wheeled him from the car to the game in his umbrella stroller and had his diaper bag. It probably doesn't sound like those two things would take up a lot of room, but you'd be surprised.

Some of the seats on the row in front of us were open, so Jeff spent most of the game sitting there, which gave us even more space and left an empty seat, so Biscuit had his very own spot.

Biscuit was a little rowdier during this game than he was at the last one we went to. He's had some teething pain, and he's a little more mobile now, so he didn't like being confined to our laps. Jeff took him on a couple of walks just to give him something new to look at, but overall he was still really good.

I knew there would be fireworks after the game, and I was a little concerned about how Biscuit would react. My worries were for nothing because the game went to 12 innings and by then, Biscuit was fast asleep. Enough people had left at that point that I set his stroller up in the aisle beside my seat and fastened him in so he'd be more comfortable.

Right before the fireworks started, I grabbed him out of his stroller and held his head against my chest and put my hand pretty tight against his ear. He slept through the entire fireworks display. It was a really nice display, too. The show included some I had never seen before.

There were two pretty girls in the row in front of us. They turned around to see how he had handled the fireworks. They thought it was pretty funny that he slept through the commotion.

I told them that the funny part was that their long, pretty, brown hair almost became the victim of Biscuit's little hands several times during the game.

The seat saga

(A post from The Daddy Man.)

One morning last week, I took Biscuit to day care. Kim normally does the morning run. I might do it once a week. Everything went fine, and I went off to work as normal.

I told her I'd pick him up in the afternoon, too, but my work ran long, and I had to let her know that I couldn't make it.

I was about 3/4 of the way through writing my story about UNCG's basketball schedule, when the phone at my desk rang. It was Kim. She was at day care and needed the car seat to bring Biscuit home.

I told her I'd bring it right away and hung up. But the instant I hung up the phone, I remembered: When I dropped Biscuit off that morning, I carried the car seat inside. I remembered this because he was fast asleep inside it when I dropped him off.

When we drop off or pick up at day care, we have to clock in or clock out. So while she was waiting on me to bring the car seat, Kim had already clocked Biscuit out and had stepped out to one of the rocking chairs on the front porch to finish feeding him a bottle he had started.

I called her three times on her cell phone, but with the traffic noise from the busy road the day care is on, she never heard the ringing.

Finally, I called the day care and talked to the director, Miss Cindy. I asked her if Kim was there, and she said she was sitting outside.

Cindy stepped out to let Kim know what had happened. She said she wondered why Kim was sitting out there instead of going home, but that she had always liked those chairs, too, so she didn't think too much about it.

After Biscuit woke up from his nap that morning, the morning teacher had taken him out of the seat and put it in their closet, but the afternoon teacher didn't realize that. So Kim had to go back in to get it. Biscuit is too heavy now for her to carry him in the seat, so she put his empty bottles and other stuff in the car seat and carried it in one hand and Biscuit in the other.

So after four phone calls and about 15 minutes, we got everything sorted out. I finished my story, and Biscuit and Kim headed home.

We've already decided that when he moves into a bigger car seat, we're going to head off this problem from the get go ... we're buying two of them.

I'm stuck on you

Biscuit and I have a little game we play. He lies flat on his back, and I say, "Lie down." Then I hold out my fingers, he grabs on and pulls into a sitting position, and I say, "Sit up." Then while still holding onto my fingers, he gets into a standing position, and I say, "Stand up." Then I hug him and pat him on the back, saying, "Good job. Good job." And he laughs like it's the greatest thing ever, and we do it again.

So yesterday, I thought it would be fun to say the phrases and see what he could do on his own. I was so excited and surprised when I put him on the bed and said, "Sit up." And he rolled around a little bit and sat up on his own. I knew he couldn't stand on his own, so I helped him out.

I called Jeff into the bedroom to watch Biscuit's new trick. I put him on the bed and said, "Sit up." Nothing happened. I said it again ... "Sit up." And nothing.

I just figured it was stage fright or that he was too distracted by Jeff being there. So I tried one more time. Biscuit tried to move and suddenly Jeff started laughing.

The bib Biscuit was wearing had come unfastened in the back. It had a Velcro closure, and the sticky side was now stuck to the comforter on our bed. So Biscuit was stuck to the bed, too.

Biscuit has hated the sound of Velcro being ripped apart since the day he arrived. Maybe he knew that Velcro would one day be his downfall.

Darned if you do, darned if you don't

I have come to learn over the past 8 1/2 months that "mom guilt" is a very powerful thing.

I feel guilty about things I've done, like those times when after dinner with my girlfriends I've stayed to chat in the parking lot too long then realized that Biscuit had gotten really tired and really cranky because it's way past time for him to be snug in his own bed at home.

And I've felt guilty about things I haven't done, like I know the books and Web sites say that we should read to Biscuit a lot, but by the time I get him home from day care, spend some time playing with him, get him fed, get us fed, then get Biscuit dressed and ready for bed, he's asleep, and I realize I didn't read him a book.

Jeff always says the same thing to me, "He's fine. He eats. He sleeps. He poops. And he's happy and smiling more often than not." I know this is true, but I still always second guess myself or feel like I should be doing more. Welcome to motherhood, right?

I wrote in an earlier blog that Biscuit has learned to sit up on his own. What I didn't write was that I didn't see it happen the first time.

Biscuit and I were playing on a quilt in the living room floor, and I was thirsty. So I got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. The top of my can was dirty, so I rinsed it off in the sink. I left Biscuit lying on his belly and by the time I came back, he was sitting up. I missed it.

I missed seeing him do something that, in a baby's life, is a really big deal. Pour on the mom guilt.

The thing is, with him in day care, I just assumed I'd miss a lot of stuff. I figured he'd sit up there first. He'd crawl there first. He'd walk there first. But so far, he's done everything at home.

A friend of mine at work said that his day care center asked if he and his wife wanted to know about accomplishments or not. As in, if your baby starts crawling at day care today, do you want us to tell you about it, or do you want to assume that she did it the for first time when you see her do it later at home? He told them not to tell him. But I told Biscuit's teachers that I want to know. Just because I don't see it the first time doesn't make it any less of a big deal.

Or so I thought.

Spending time with him is another dilemma. I know that I need to take some time for myself and that Jeff and I need to have time for just the two of us. And it's not for lack of babysitters that we rarely get either of those things. We've got several couples just waiting for the chance to hang out with Biscuit for an evening. But spending time away from him is a double-edged sword.

On one hand, I'm a working mom who sends her baby to day care every day. So I feel like I should spend every second I can with him when I'm not at work. On the other hand, sometimes I feel like if I don't get a few minutes by myself, I might just break down into a crumpled heap on the floor.

I took a comp day from work yesterday. It was the first day off (besides a sick day) that I have taken off since Biscuit got here when I didn't have something to do or somewhere to be. Plus, Jeff has to work over the weekend, so he was supposed to be off, too.

My mind went crazy with all the possibilities. We could take a day trip. We could take Biscuit on some sort of outing. We could drive down to Ikea or Concord Mills. We could drive to Blowing Rock just to have a picnic.

But then I realized, I can take Biscuit to day care and have a whole day to myself. Better yet, I can make Jeff take Biscuit to day care then have a whole day to myself. Jeff ended up having to work Friday after all, so I laid out my plan for him, complete with me getting Biscuit ready to go to day care and Jeff taking over from there.

It was so, so nice to crawl back into bed after my boys left the house. Unfortunatey, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I gathered up a pile of magazines I had been wanting to read. I turned the TV on in our bedroom and went back and forth between my magazines, "Jon & Kate Plus 8" and the "Gilmore Girls." It felt like such a guilty pleasure.

And then I started wondering if I was doing a selfish and bad thing by shipping my kid off to day care with total strangers just so I could sit and bed and waste time.

God bless my husband for his patience and understanding. Jeff was able to do his work from home, so he spent part of his morning reassuring me that: 1. Taking time for myself isn't selfish, it makes me a better mother because I need some time to relax and regroup. 2. The teachers at day care are not total strangers. Biscuit's morning teacher had a day off last week. She had to go by the day care to pick up something and couldn't leave without checking in on "her babies." They love him there. So I went back to my magazines and TV.

About noon, I talked to my brother on the phone for a while. He, by the way, said he doesn't understand when people talk about working from home. He said, "How am I supposed to fix a man's air conditioner if I'm at home?" He thinks he's funny.

I took a long shower about 12:30, took my time getting dressed, then went out for a nice lunch with Jeff about 1:30. We drove separate cars to the restaurant so I could leave there and go see a movie at 2:55. My movie lasted a couple of hours, so I had just enough time to run into a clothing store and look around, and after, you guessed it, money guilt, I bought myself a shirt. This left me with about 15 minutes to get to day care and pick up Biscuit.

I thoroughly enjoyed my day, but it was different from "me days" I've had in the past. For one, even though the day was all mine, there was no sleeping late. I was still up at 6:30 a.m., even though I didn't set an alarm. Who needs an alarm when you have a Biscuit?!?

I also had to be constantly aware of the time. You can't really fly by the seat of your pants when you have to be at day care by 6 p.m. to pick up your baby or they'll start charging you $1 a minute for being late.

I also couldn't be too frivolous with money. Day care, diapers and baby food are expensive. Plus, Jeff had hotel expenses for the car show in Carlisle, Pa., from a couple of weeks ago. We spent this past weekend in a hotel in Chimney Rock with my family. And two weeks ago, we had to buy a new refrigerator.

So I guess I've said all of this to say that I think you're darned if you do and darned if you don't.

If you take Curtain No. 1, you realize that if you spend all your time and money on this newest addition to your family, you're not going to have time and money you need for yourself. And if you take Curtain No. 2, you realize that if you don't spend all your time and money on this newest addition to your family, you're going to miss some big moments and feel guilty.

But I've been thinking about how much I enjoyed the movie yesterday. And it was so nice to have a casual lunch at a restaurant with Jeff where we didn't have to rush to get back to work. And I'm wondering which pants I should wear with my new shirt next week at work.

So Monty, I think I'll learn to deal with a little guilt and take Curtain No. 2.

A combo deal

It seems like until now, Biscuit's accomplishments have been spread out far enough that we could enjoy each thing as it happens.

But over the past few weeks, he's gotten his first tooth, learned to sit up by himself, starting to hold his bottle by himself and is getting up on all fours and rocking back and forth like he's ready to take off crawling.

Quite a list of accomplishments!

Now if I can just remember to write it all down in his baby book before I forget when it all happened.

Yankee-Doodle Boy

Yesterday was Biscuit's first Fourth of July. My parents were in town until yesterday afternoon, and Jeff and I had just planned to hang out at home last night. We both like fireworks, but the show in Greensboro is so big, it's just too much of a hassle to get in and out of the place where they have it.

But when a friend called to suggest we meet them for dinner then see the fireworks show in their smaller town, we thought it sounded like fun.

We drove over and had dinner at a good Italian restaurant near their house. Since Biscuit has gotten so good at sitting up, I figured he could try one of the booster seats that they pull up to the table. He was asleep when we got to the restaurant (20 minutes or more in the car and he's down for the count), so we just left him in the car seat and carried him in.

We ordered some cheese bread as an appetizer, salads and pasta dishes. Then I jinxed myself. I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice if Biscuit slept until I was done eating?" So what happened? He woke up as soon as the cheese bread hit the table.

Jeff got one of the booster seats, and I set up the fancy cover thing he got for a baby shower present. It's a padded seat cover that fits over boosters or the front seat on store buggies. We got him all strapped in, then he had his dinner of two jars of baby food - summer vegetable medley and sweet potatoes. He tolerated the veggies and chowed down on the sweet taters.

We left the restaurant and went back to our friends' house. As usual, I had a takeout box from the restaurant with most of my dinner in it. They said the community center where they were doing the fireworks show was within walking distance of their house. And I was more than a little excited that I had a new stroller to take on the excursion.

It was a nice walk until we ran across some brilliant citizens who thought it would be a good idea to park on the side of the street, straddling the sidewalk. Biscuit's stroller has small bicycle-type tires, but still, I don't think off-roading-it should really include having to scale ditches and embankments. But with me pushing, Jeff at the front and a friend on each side, we got the boy safely back onto a cement surface.

We got to the community center, and it looked like everyone in the town had turned out. We found a nice spot and threw down a blanket. I took Biscuit out of his stroller and let him stretch out and play. I was excited about seeing the fireworks because I can't remember the last time I went to a fireworks show. But at the same time, I had no idea how Biscuit would react to the noise, so I was also pretty nervous. Throw in that it was WAY past his bedtime - an hour and a half, to be precise.

The first fountain of sparks lit up the sky, and it was followed by a pretty loud boom. Biscuit jumped, but he didn't make any noise. The next one went off and still nothing. I was holding his face close to mine and talking to him, telling him the colors and saying "Wow" and "Look" and whatever else I could think of to let him know it was okay.

They sent up two or three at one time, then there was a pause of a few seconds. Biscuit's little head started turning all around. He was looking for more fireworks. I was nervous that he would be scared, but here he was looking around for more.

After the show was over, we loaded him back into his stroller, and I figured he'd be asleep before we got back to our friends' house. But with all the excitement, he was still wide awake and looking around. I don't know where he could've gotten that nosiness from!

We didn't even go in when we got back to our friends' house. We just loaded the boy in the car and headed home. We didn't place bets on how fast he'd be asleep, but I'm pretty sure that instead of his normal 20 minutes, it was more like two.

I hope he continues to be okay with fireworks. It would be a fun Fourth of July family tradition.

A long walk to a new stroller

I have loved Biscuit's stroller since the day we got it. All except for one small detail. I can't get the @#$% thing to open and close.

Jeff picked out our stroller. I told him I didn't have a preference, as long as it would be comfortable for Biscuit and had a place for the diaper bag. The stroller or should I say "travel system" that Jeff picked out is a three-wheeled jogging stroller. And let me stop right here and say that our purchase of said stroller has nothing to do with the hope of an exercise plan. We won't be doing any jogging with this stroller unless we're out for a walk and it starts to rain!

Jeff picked this stroller because it has real tires instead of plastic wheels. And because it's a travel system, it came with an infant car seat. The car seat fastens onto the top of the stroller facing backward. Then when the baby is big enough to sit up, he can sit in the stroller seat facing forward.

Once this stroller is up and running, I love it. It handles well. It's very comfortable for Biscuit. It has a big storage basket on the bottom. And it even has a couple of cup holders. (Something I made fun of in the store but have used every single time I've pushed the stroller!)

But it's gotten to the point, over the past few weeks, that I find myself looking for ways not to use the stroller. And that's very unfortunate because like I said, it's a great stroller.

My parents came up this weekend, and Mama and I wanted to go into Kohl's. Kohl's doesn't have buggies, so unless I wanted to carry Biscuit all over the store, I had to get the stroller out. I was dreading it, but I figured Mama would be there to help me get it set up and put down.

I hauled the stroller out of the trunk and got it set up with almost no drama. Biscuit was asleep, so I left him in his car seat, snapped him onto the top of the stroller and away we went. It was so easy getting around inside the store. I had two free hands to look at things, and when I got ready to go to the dressing room, I just wheeled the stroller right in. No problem. I was remembering why I loved the stroller so much.

But when we got back to the car, I remembered why I hated the stroller so much. I tried in vain to break down the @#$% stroller for about 10 minutes. Now, 10 minutes might not sound like a long time, but you try sliding a lever with your thumb and squeezing a long bar with your other fingers while jerking a big stroller into a folded position for 10 minutes. The back of your neck would be sweating just like mine was. Also, add in some words that you never want your son to hear much less say and throw in a few angry tears. That about sums it up.

I called Jeff, who was driving my Daddy around in the Barracuda with the top down. I told him that I hated to ruin his leisurely cruise, but I was in the Kohl's parking lot out on Wendover and I couldn't get the @#$% stroller in the trunk. And the thing is too big to fit in the car without being collapsed. He said they would swing around and head our way.

In the meantime, Mama said, "Where did you get the stroller?" I told her Babies R Us. She said, "That's in this shopping center, isn't it?" I told her it was at the other end, past Target.

I had Biscuit in the car by this point. So Mama kicked the brake off and started pushing the stroller away. I said, "What are you doing?" She said, "I'm pushing it to Babies R Us so they can fold it up and put it in the trunk."

She had quite a walk. She had to pass the old Linens N Things store, Pier 1 and Target, and I guess she didn't think about how it would look for her to push an empty stroller around. This one woman asked her how she was doing. Mama said, "Fine. How are you?" The woman said, "I'm fine. God bless you." But Mama said the woman said the "God bless you" part like she was talking to somebody who had lost her marbles. Mama always walks with a purpose, so I guess it did look pretty funny.

As she was walking into Babies R Us, and I had already pulled into a parking spot. I was pretty upset, so I just sat in the car with Biscuit, figuring she would get someone from the stroller department to fold the thing up, then she'd wheel it out, and I'd stick it in the trunk.

She walked out the door of the store and motioned for me to come in. I stepped out of the car and she said, "Come on in. You're getting a new stroller." I said, "What?!?" And she just motioned for me to come.

I grabbed a buggy and set Biscuit's car seat on top. We wheeled into the front door, and Mama was standing at the customer service desk with her hand on her hip. "Oh, Lord," was all I could think. That was her "taking care of business" stance.

The cashiers seemed to be tip-toeing around her a bit, and I said, "What happened?" She said, "I brought it in, and several people tried to close it but nobody could. So I told them they needed to do something. The woman behind the counter said, 'Can you push it over there?' And I told her I had pushed it all the way from Kohl's, and I wasn't pushing it anywhere else!" That's when the manager came over, and Mama informed her that they were giving us a new stroller.

The manager wheeled a huge box up to the front of the store on handtrucks. I told her that the car seat came with the stroller, but it was working fine. She said she'd give us the stroller and write off the rest as damaged goods. She spread out all the parts in the floor and put it together right there in front of the gift-wrapping station.

After she was done, I opened and closed it a few times to make sure it was okay, and I swear, I think I skipped out of the store. It's SO much better!

It had never even occurred to me to take the stroller back. I learned my lesson, though. It never hurts to ask.