A strange thing happened to me this weekend. Some of my Facebook buddies will remember that I have posted before about a long-lost friend from high school who I've been dying to find again. She and I were the bestest of friends... we made goofy videos on snow days, watched movies all night in her playroom, did Girl Scouts, went to concerts, and on and on. She was awesome. She was super smart, funny, and a really good friend.
We had different classes and different friends our senior year, and things sort of changed (and got a little awkward), and then we graduated and lost touch. But after all this time, all of my memories of her are good. I don't remember anything bad. I've been trying to find her for YEARS. Her home phone was disconnected several years ago, and it's been a shot in the dark ever since.
Introduce MySpace and Facebook into the mix. I found mutual friends of ours and asked all of them if they knew where she was. I've been trying for years with no success.... until! Finally! A guy she dated in high school was still in touch. He said he'd "pass on my email address" but wouldn't give me her info. Fair enough. I waited... and waited... and waited.
A couple weeks ago he messaged me that he had talked to her, and she did remember me (well duh) and was also sad we lost touch. He gave me her phone number. I called that very afternoon and left a message. No return call. I called again the next week and left a message. No return call. I decided to try one more time... and she picked up. We talked on Sunday -- for the first time in ten years. Wow.
Hearing her voice and her mannerisms and her memories was just so awesome. Her spunk was still the same, but.... something was different. As we got to talking I learned that the years have not been kind to her. She is currently in an abusive, controlling relationship and trying to get out. She has a son with this guy, and she's really concerned about her life and her son's life. She is getting information and making plans to make a change, but at the same time she's nervous and scared. She cried more than once while we were talking.
I was so surprised! I wanted to be so so so happy for this, but instead I'm worried and sad. It's heartbreaking to realize that not everyone is in a good place in their lives all of the time.
I offered some help -- whatever she needs, please let me know -- but then Shane and I were talking about it and the fact is that as much as I want to help, if this guy is as crazy and controlling and irrational as she describes, then I could be putting my own family in danger by becoming an "accomplice." I have to remember that.
It's just not fair that people aren't good to each other. That we as people crave the approval and love of others, and some people use that to their advantage and take advantage. I don't know what will happen, but I only wish good things.
So if anyone has any ideas or insights, please let me know. It's not really in my hands, but it's so hard to see someone I care about so much suffer. I know she can overcome this, and I know she's smart enough that this shouldn't have happened in the first place, but I guess all that matters now is what happens next.
So happy, yet so sad.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
do we, or don't we?
Please consider two opposing views:
I imagine a lot of you have jobs, and you know people at work. Sometimes you are friends, if you have things in common or you get together after work, but sometimes you're not and all that matters is how well they do their jobs.
So put it in the perspective of celebrities. Maybe Angelina Jolie makes blockbuster movies. Maybe Kanye West makes #1 hip-hop hits. Maybe Michael Jackson is the King of Pop. I think it's obvious that they are good at their jobs.
But Angelina Jolie either flirted with or chased or wanted a married man, and he divorced his wife because of her -- something I don't agree with. And Kanye West has come out publicly that he supports and loves and is addicted to internet pornography -- something I don't agree with. And Michael Jackson had a shady personal life and was accused of child molestation (although everyone should remember a jury of his peers acquitted him on all counts) -- something I don't agree with.
So what matters? Just how well celebrities do their jobs? Or their personal lives, too? I'd like to think that my friends at work are good people, but the truth is I don't know their personal opinions on everything. And even if we don't see eye to eye in regards to religion, politics, sports teams, hobbies, whatever, they do a good job, right?
Yet, with celebrities, the public in general is fascinated by the personal lives of people who arguably "do a good job." I'll admit, I love celebrity gossip. I guess I like being reassured that the celebrities I love are also "good people," and if I find out they're not, I like them a little bit less. But in the workplace, I'm not allowed to let that bother me. If a boss can't fire someone for being homosexual or atheist, why would I write off an actor or musician for being that way?
I don't know the answer. I guess we as a public aren't ready to treat celebrities the same way we treat our co-workers. If we were, People magazine, TMZ.com, and Barbara Walters wouldn't be so popular. But they are popular, and it proves that we as a public want the whole package when it comes to celebrities. And if so, if that is what we want and thrive on, then we can't "ignore" the other stuff. Is that wrong? Is that double standard for public figures? Definitely. But maybe they "deserve it" for being so dang popular?
Anyway, just like anyone else I'll take a moment this Halloween and play Thriller and be mindful of the departed. But I still don't like Kanye West.
- My bud Svedi Pie posted on her blog yesterday about how she isn't really sad Michael Jackson died because of the whole child-molestation-controversy thing.
- On the flipside, a lot of people on Facebook have been posting, "it doesn't matter about his personal life, you can't argue that he was the King of Pop and so it's a sad day."
I imagine a lot of you have jobs, and you know people at work. Sometimes you are friends, if you have things in common or you get together after work, but sometimes you're not and all that matters is how well they do their jobs.
So put it in the perspective of celebrities. Maybe Angelina Jolie makes blockbuster movies. Maybe Kanye West makes #1 hip-hop hits. Maybe Michael Jackson is the King of Pop. I think it's obvious that they are good at their jobs.
But Angelina Jolie either flirted with or chased or wanted a married man, and he divorced his wife because of her -- something I don't agree with. And Kanye West has come out publicly that he supports and loves and is addicted to internet pornography -- something I don't agree with. And Michael Jackson had a shady personal life and was accused of child molestation (although everyone should remember a jury of his peers acquitted him on all counts) -- something I don't agree with.
So what matters? Just how well celebrities do their jobs? Or their personal lives, too? I'd like to think that my friends at work are good people, but the truth is I don't know their personal opinions on everything. And even if we don't see eye to eye in regards to religion, politics, sports teams, hobbies, whatever, they do a good job, right?
Yet, with celebrities, the public in general is fascinated by the personal lives of people who arguably "do a good job." I'll admit, I love celebrity gossip. I guess I like being reassured that the celebrities I love are also "good people," and if I find out they're not, I like them a little bit less. But in the workplace, I'm not allowed to let that bother me. If a boss can't fire someone for being homosexual or atheist, why would I write off an actor or musician for being that way?
I don't know the answer. I guess we as a public aren't ready to treat celebrities the same way we treat our co-workers. If we were, People magazine, TMZ.com, and Barbara Walters wouldn't be so popular. But they are popular, and it proves that we as a public want the whole package when it comes to celebrities. And if so, if that is what we want and thrive on, then we can't "ignore" the other stuff. Is that wrong? Is that double standard for public figures? Definitely. But maybe they "deserve it" for being so dang popular?
Anyway, just like anyone else I'll take a moment this Halloween and play Thriller and be mindful of the departed. But I still don't like Kanye West.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
break the cycle
Here comes another semi-political, semi-religious post, although it doesn't have to be that way. I read the most amazing article this weekend, and I think everyone should read it. In a nutshell, the Los Angeles Times spotlighted a local graduate who was super studious, had been accepted to Harvard -- and had been homeless her entire life.
It seems to me that homelessness and destitution are cycles that keep repeating in our society, the way bad fathers raise sons who become bad fathers or drug users or abusers show their children that drug use and abuse is normal. Somewhere along the lines -- and some would argue this is the government's responsibility -- the cycle has to be broken. Children have to realize or be taught that no, I need to be a good father, drug use is detrimental, abuse is wrong. Because I was raised this way gives me no liberty to continue to suffer or make my family suffer.
This girl did it. Homelessness was no excuse. Maybe she was also extraordinarily gifted -- I'll agree with that -- but she was also motivated, persistent, determined. I really feel like we can accomplish anything we set our minds to, if we are dedicated enough. It's the nature of agency, and I love it. I really feel like God made us as intelligent, interactive human beings, and we can win with the cards we're dealt. He doesn't force us into the "slavery" of homelessness or addiction or temptation to watch us suffer. He wants to see us use our intelligence and agency to make a better life for ourselves.
Think of The Biggest Loser, The Amazing Race, Survivor. A lot of the success on those shows comes from determination and willpower more than anything. Anyone can do anything, no matter how big or small or how advantaged or disadvantaged at the onset.
But I digress. This girl's story is so much cooler than reality TV. She didn't feel like the world (or government!) owed her anything. She could do it on her own. She didn't want any favors or advantages or sympathy. She turned the cards she was dealt into a winning hand. I am so impressed!
And maybe -- unfortunately! -- this article will make me more judgmental from now on, since I'll probably never think again, "well that person is homeless so they can't (fill in the blank)." I've always deep down believed that if someone wanted something bad enough, they could do it. But I've worked in downtown Seattle for almost 6 years now, and I still see the same panhandlers.
Maybe this is a lesson for all of us to just dream a little bit bigger, reach a little bit higher, and work a little bit harder. I know I could; I know I have potential I'm not using. What could I accomplish if I really tried?
It seems to me that homelessness and destitution are cycles that keep repeating in our society, the way bad fathers raise sons who become bad fathers or drug users or abusers show their children that drug use and abuse is normal. Somewhere along the lines -- and some would argue this is the government's responsibility -- the cycle has to be broken. Children have to realize or be taught that no, I need to be a good father, drug use is detrimental, abuse is wrong. Because I was raised this way gives me no liberty to continue to suffer or make my family suffer.
This girl did it. Homelessness was no excuse. Maybe she was also extraordinarily gifted -- I'll agree with that -- but she was also motivated, persistent, determined. I really feel like we can accomplish anything we set our minds to, if we are dedicated enough. It's the nature of agency, and I love it. I really feel like God made us as intelligent, interactive human beings, and we can win with the cards we're dealt. He doesn't force us into the "slavery" of homelessness or addiction or temptation to watch us suffer. He wants to see us use our intelligence and agency to make a better life for ourselves.
Think of The Biggest Loser, The Amazing Race, Survivor. A lot of the success on those shows comes from determination and willpower more than anything. Anyone can do anything, no matter how big or small or how advantaged or disadvantaged at the onset.
But I digress. This girl's story is so much cooler than reality TV. She didn't feel like the world (or government!) owed her anything. She could do it on her own. She didn't want any favors or advantages or sympathy. She turned the cards she was dealt into a winning hand. I am so impressed!
And maybe -- unfortunately! -- this article will make me more judgmental from now on, since I'll probably never think again, "well that person is homeless so they can't (fill in the blank)." I've always deep down believed that if someone wanted something bad enough, they could do it. But I've worked in downtown Seattle for almost 6 years now, and I still see the same panhandlers.
Maybe this is a lesson for all of us to just dream a little bit bigger, reach a little bit higher, and work a little bit harder. I know I could; I know I have potential I'm not using. What could I accomplish if I really tried?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
not so happy father's day
This is a sad post. But I have to keep reminding myself that motherhood (parenthood) has its sadness and happiness. How would we know the happiness of feeling well if we don't know the sheer pain of feeling unwell?
My sweet baby was sick this weekend. Our normally active, talkative, and non-stop little man was lethargic, whimpering, and still.
He acted strange on Saturday at the one-year birthday party for our childbirthing class babies. It was an awesome time! Although there was a cake for the little ones, splash pool, bubbles, plenty of food and chatter, Wesley was glued to mom and didn't enjoy crawling around or pushing the Tigger airplane toy (a surprise for sure!).
At home that night, we thought he was playing with his Choo-Choo in the living room, but when we took a closer look, we discovered he was actually laying on his tummy, with his little hand pushing the toy's "On" button over and over. He just sat there, like he was trying to convince himself, "must play, must play." Our initial thought was that he was just really tired, but when we got him ready for bed we discovered he was burning up -- and had a temperature of 102.
He didn't sleep well at all (our 12-plus-hours-at-a-time baby was up every hour or half-hour, so it was some serious awfulness for all parties), and he had the same temperature Sunday morning. We decided to make an appointment at Children's Hospital's Urgent Care clinic. The earliest we could get was 1 p.m. in Bellevue.
Until then, one of us laid on the couch with him, tummy to tummy, and he just whimpered. It was just so sad! He wouldn't eat anything. The only nutrition he was getting was from nursing, which seemed to be the only thing to comfort him.
The clinic was running late, so we sat patiently. When we finally saw the doctor and rattled off his symptoms (fever, loss of appetite, lethargy, weird poops!, trouble sleeping), she was concerned it was an intestinal blockage sort of thing (which I guess is very common for babies his age) and sent us to the Seattle Children's Hospital Emergency Room! Gah!
There wasn't much excitement in the ER at 2 p.m., so we got right in. We explained his story for the umpteenth time, and the doctors had a number of things they wanted to test for: intestinal thing, ear infection, bladder infection, appendicitis!, meningitis, and on and on.
Unfortunately, diagnostics aren't fun at all. X-rays came first, which were the least of our troubles. Next came a urine sample and blood sample, which required an IV that took FOUR TRIES to hit a vein. By this point Wesley was super dehydrated, so he was even more irritable and his little veins weren't cooperating.
That was the hardest part of all this. To be there, trying to hold the little guy still, while they worked as hard as they could to make him feel better, although it hurt. No mother should ever have to go through what I went through. We cried together.
I thought about taking a picture of him in his cute little hospital gown, with his "boot" (that's what we called the IV contraption and everything taped to his ankle), but then I decided against it. I really don't want to remember this. I want to forget the pain in his voice and the hurt in his eyes.
The doctors and nurses started ruling out all the possible afflictions one by one, and finally gave us permission to feed him. With saline coming in the IV and food in his belly, he perked up. His fever broke slightly, and he started to seem more like his old self.
By this time, it was getting late.... 7, 8, 9 p.m., and not only was he acting more like his old self, he was acting more like his old tired self, who was up way past his bedtime. Basically the doctor said, "Look, we have no idea what it was. What's important is that he's feeling better. You can stay in the hospital overnight and we'll make sure he keeps down his dinner, but he probably won't get any sleep and it won't be normal for you, so you could just go home and come back if he takes a turn for the worse." We said, hmmm, thanks but no thanks, and went home.
We may never know what it was. All I know is that it went away. He had a slight fever Monday morning, and I took him into the pediatrician to make sure she knew what was going on and to see what she thought. She said what the doctors said previously, that it could have just been a 12- or 24-hour virus or something, coupled with dehydration. Liquids, baby ibuprofen, and rest seemed to fix it. (Plus, his poops got more normal! Ahh my life.)
This has been a tough experience for me, but truly I've learned more about what it means to be a mom. Specifically:
(P.S. Dad, if you're reading this, it's why I didn't call! I'm sorry! I love you!)
My sweet baby was sick this weekend. Our normally active, talkative, and non-stop little man was lethargic, whimpering, and still.
He acted strange on Saturday at the one-year birthday party for our childbirthing class babies. It was an awesome time! Although there was a cake for the little ones, splash pool, bubbles, plenty of food and chatter, Wesley was glued to mom and didn't enjoy crawling around or pushing the Tigger airplane toy (a surprise for sure!).
At home that night, we thought he was playing with his Choo-Choo in the living room, but when we took a closer look, we discovered he was actually laying on his tummy, with his little hand pushing the toy's "On" button over and over. He just sat there, like he was trying to convince himself, "must play, must play." Our initial thought was that he was just really tired, but when we got him ready for bed we discovered he was burning up -- and had a temperature of 102.
He didn't sleep well at all (our 12-plus-hours-at-a-time baby was up every hour or half-hour, so it was some serious awfulness for all parties), and he had the same temperature Sunday morning. We decided to make an appointment at Children's Hospital's Urgent Care clinic. The earliest we could get was 1 p.m. in Bellevue.
Until then, one of us laid on the couch with him, tummy to tummy, and he just whimpered. It was just so sad! He wouldn't eat anything. The only nutrition he was getting was from nursing, which seemed to be the only thing to comfort him.
The clinic was running late, so we sat patiently. When we finally saw the doctor and rattled off his symptoms (fever, loss of appetite, lethargy, weird poops!, trouble sleeping), she was concerned it was an intestinal blockage sort of thing (which I guess is very common for babies his age) and sent us to the Seattle Children's Hospital Emergency Room! Gah!
There wasn't much excitement in the ER at 2 p.m., so we got right in. We explained his story for the umpteenth time, and the doctors had a number of things they wanted to test for: intestinal thing, ear infection, bladder infection, appendicitis!, meningitis, and on and on.
Unfortunately, diagnostics aren't fun at all. X-rays came first, which were the least of our troubles. Next came a urine sample and blood sample, which required an IV that took FOUR TRIES to hit a vein. By this point Wesley was super dehydrated, so he was even more irritable and his little veins weren't cooperating.
That was the hardest part of all this. To be there, trying to hold the little guy still, while they worked as hard as they could to make him feel better, although it hurt. No mother should ever have to go through what I went through. We cried together.
I thought about taking a picture of him in his cute little hospital gown, with his "boot" (that's what we called the IV contraption and everything taped to his ankle), but then I decided against it. I really don't want to remember this. I want to forget the pain in his voice and the hurt in his eyes.
The doctors and nurses started ruling out all the possible afflictions one by one, and finally gave us permission to feed him. With saline coming in the IV and food in his belly, he perked up. His fever broke slightly, and he started to seem more like his old self.
By this time, it was getting late.... 7, 8, 9 p.m., and not only was he acting more like his old self, he was acting more like his old tired self, who was up way past his bedtime. Basically the doctor said, "Look, we have no idea what it was. What's important is that he's feeling better. You can stay in the hospital overnight and we'll make sure he keeps down his dinner, but he probably won't get any sleep and it won't be normal for you, so you could just go home and come back if he takes a turn for the worse." We said, hmmm, thanks but no thanks, and went home.
We may never know what it was. All I know is that it went away. He had a slight fever Monday morning, and I took him into the pediatrician to make sure she knew what was going on and to see what she thought. She said what the doctors said previously, that it could have just been a 12- or 24-hour virus or something, coupled with dehydration. Liquids, baby ibuprofen, and rest seemed to fix it. (Plus, his poops got more normal! Ahh my life.)
This has been a tough experience for me, but truly I've learned more about what it means to be a mom. Specifically:
- I posted an update on Facebook to see if any of our other friends had sick babies (something going around?) and one of my older friends commented that it's definitely hard for moms to see their children -- small and big -- go through this. That really hit me. Wesley's going to encounter pain for his entire life, and every minute I'll be by his side, fighting for him, wishing it better.
- This has really made me think about how amazing our bodies are, and how I'm so grateful that something worked in Wesley's little body on Sunday. I would have done anything to change places with him. No child should ever have to go through that. But through the miracles of the human body (and to some extent, medicine), he is better.
- I need to be praying for my son. Every day, several times a day, I need to make sure I am on my knees pleading with my Heavenly Father to watch over him and guide him and protect him and HELP ME be a better mother. It was an answer to my sincere prayer that this experience is over. But now we start again. There will be many more times in his life where his mother's prayers on his behalf will be needed, I'm sure.
- As I have been taking care of him these last couple days (he still has a tiny fever), Shane encouraged me to be patient with Wesley because he's still not himself. And I do find myself being impatient! I get irritated at why he won't settle down, why he is clingy at times, why he refuses to eat, why he fusses and I don't understand. I need to be more patient, because he's feeling funny and not knowing why. I have to consciously try to do this.
My sweet little man. I believe we are a stronger family after all this. I know Shane struggled as well with this whole crazy-hospital-adventure. I told Shane we'll have a Father's Day Do-Over next Sunday, so he'll get breakfast in bed and whatever he wants for dinner.
So that was our weekend. I hate not knowing what got our little man down, but I'm glad it's over. I guess never knew how much I appreciated "normal."(P.S. Dad, if you're reading this, it's why I didn't call! I'm sorry! I love you!)
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
shout-out to aunt leslie
Last weekend our sweet Aunt Leslie (well, Wesley's Aunt Leslie) came to visit. It was rocking.
We picked her up at the airport then did the whole Seattle thing: gallivant through the Olympic Sculpture Park, drive by the Seattle Public Library, food at Pike Place Market. It was only the hottest day of the year (maybe), and the $3 lemonade was SO WORTH IT. Walking on the waterfront was heavenly. Wesley was slathered in sunscreen, we made it back to our parking meters in time, and it was overall completely awesome.
Friday Shaner and I got a free babysitter. Yay! We went to Applebee's and then Night at the Museum 2. I wanted to see UP, but that will have to wait for another time. Your thoughts: UP in 3-D or no? Does it matter?
Saturday, Leslie and I hit Value Village for 50%-off-green-tag day and it was the best. I got a shirt and some toys and books for Wesley, and she got some clothes and other stuff. I usually feel so rushed when I'm shopping (I think because I have a husband or baby either with me or waiting for me at home), and this time, I ignored all those inclinations and just browsed. We chatted away and looked through racks of clothes and saw all kinds of exciting things. VALUE VILLAGE ROCKS.
Leslie helped in the nursery at Church on Sunday because she wanted to (who is this crazy lady!? nursery stresses me out!), and then that night we made Father's Day cards! It was great! Card-making with my awesome sister in law! Considering it's one of the coolest and most fun hobbies, I was in Sunday-evening-relaxation heaven!
As you can plainly tell, it was a terrific weekend. She got some natural birth control in the form of awful Wesley diapers and her nursery experience (haha), and we got to chat about the pros and cons of pregnancy vs. a trip to Europe. Shane votes for the trip to Europe. I think my trip-to-Europe days are over, at least for awhile. I just don't know is Wesley would appreciate Italian gelato or the Swiss Alps or the French Riviera. OK maybe he'd enjoy the gelato!
Anyway, Aunt Leslie, you rock! You're so sweet and loving, and you have been so welcoming to our family! We still can't believe you married Brad. Haha! You're a great aunt, and you'll be a great mom. Take your time and enjoy yourself. Trust me, the heartburn and swollen feet aren't anything to look forward to.
We picked her up at the airport then did the whole Seattle thing: gallivant through the Olympic Sculpture Park, drive by the Seattle Public Library, food at Pike Place Market. It was only the hottest day of the year (maybe), and the $3 lemonade was SO WORTH IT. Walking on the waterfront was heavenly. Wesley was slathered in sunscreen, we made it back to our parking meters in time, and it was overall completely awesome.
Friday Shaner and I got a free babysitter. Yay! We went to Applebee's and then Night at the Museum 2. I wanted to see UP, but that will have to wait for another time. Your thoughts: UP in 3-D or no? Does it matter?
Saturday, Leslie and I hit Value Village for 50%-off-green-tag day and it was the best. I got a shirt and some toys and books for Wesley, and she got some clothes and other stuff. I usually feel so rushed when I'm shopping (I think because I have a husband or baby either with me or waiting for me at home), and this time, I ignored all those inclinations and just browsed. We chatted away and looked through racks of clothes and saw all kinds of exciting things. VALUE VILLAGE ROCKS.
Leslie helped in the nursery at Church on Sunday because she wanted to (who is this crazy lady!? nursery stresses me out!), and then that night we made Father's Day cards! It was great! Card-making with my awesome sister in law! Considering it's one of the coolest and most fun hobbies, I was in Sunday-evening-relaxation heaven!
As you can plainly tell, it was a terrific weekend. She got some natural birth control in the form of awful Wesley diapers and her nursery experience (haha), and we got to chat about the pros and cons of pregnancy vs. a trip to Europe. Shane votes for the trip to Europe. I think my trip-to-Europe days are over, at least for awhile. I just don't know is Wesley would appreciate Italian gelato or the Swiss Alps or the French Riviera. OK maybe he'd enjoy the gelato!
Anyway, Aunt Leslie, you rock! You're so sweet and loving, and you have been so welcoming to our family! We still can't believe you married Brad. Haha! You're a great aunt, and you'll be a great mom. Take your time and enjoy yourself. Trust me, the heartburn and swollen feet aren't anything to look forward to.
Come back to visit anytime!
And a note to anyone else who might be planning a trip to Seattle: I am quite the excellent tour guide. I provide action-packed, most-enjoyable weekends for all parties. Hotel Gottula even provides a comfy futon, box fan on hot days, and food! (And this month's bonus: Wesley sleeps through the night!)
Thursday, June 11, 2009
having a ball
If any of you are new moms or old moms or just wondering folk and would like a news update on what the hot hot hot toy is of the moment for your urban baby, please consider:
The Playskool Busy Ball Popper (no that is not my kid).
I went to my share of playgroups when Wesley was a wee wee infant, and I didn't think it was a coincidence that um, every house I went to that had a toddler under the roof had one of these toys. It plays songs when it pops the balls up in the air, like renditions of William Tell's Overture (very funny) and Rockin' Robin (which every time reminds me of that episode of the Office where Andy recorded it acapella on his cell phone).
One of our friends, Stacey, said her son loved the Ball Popper so much that it stopped working. Luckily for her, she hosted a playgroup and some other kids started beating on it, and it came back to life. Eventually it died and she chucked it, but it goes to show how hot a toy this is.
Contemporary! Musical! Resilient! I knew it was birthday present numero uno for little man's first birthday.
The icing on the cake (haha not literally, although birthdays do have cake and icing) was when a random guy at work yesterday was showing me pictures of his adorable grandson, and what should be in the pictures but the Busy Ball Popper! I said, "We have one of those at home!" And he said, "My grandson loves it!"
Seriously, I'm like a commercial. It gets better.
When we had our birthday get-together at Grandma Gottula's house, Wesley's awesome family brought him other gifts. Evidently, the Busy Ball Popper has "toy relatives," you know, toys from the same "family" that are a little different. Please consider:
The Playskool Busy Ball Choo Choo. Wesley's Aunt Krista bought this for him! I was floored, number 1, since it was so darn close to the Busy Ball Popper. She said she almost bought him the Ball Popper, but at the last minute decided to get the Choo Choo since she works for the railroad. Very cute. I considered taking our Ball Popper back. Luckily for all of us, I decided to keep both toys. The Choo Choo's balls just go round and round, they don't pop (although his picture sure makes it look like they do, huh?), but it moves and it's good for a crawling baby. I think the Popper is good for a toddler.
The Playskool Busy Ball Popper (no that is not my kid).
I went to my share of playgroups when Wesley was a wee wee infant, and I didn't think it was a coincidence that um, every house I went to that had a toddler under the roof had one of these toys. It plays songs when it pops the balls up in the air, like renditions of William Tell's Overture (very funny) and Rockin' Robin (which every time reminds me of that episode of the Office where Andy recorded it acapella on his cell phone).
One of our friends, Stacey, said her son loved the Ball Popper so much that it stopped working. Luckily for her, she hosted a playgroup and some other kids started beating on it, and it came back to life. Eventually it died and she chucked it, but it goes to show how hot a toy this is.
Contemporary! Musical! Resilient! I knew it was birthday present numero uno for little man's first birthday.
The icing on the cake (haha not literally, although birthdays do have cake and icing) was when a random guy at work yesterday was showing me pictures of his adorable grandson, and what should be in the pictures but the Busy Ball Popper! I said, "We have one of those at home!" And he said, "My grandson loves it!"
Seriously, I'm like a commercial. It gets better.
When we had our birthday get-together at Grandma Gottula's house, Wesley's awesome family brought him other gifts. Evidently, the Busy Ball Popper has "toy relatives," you know, toys from the same "family" that are a little different. Please consider:
The Playskool Busy Ball Choo Choo. Wesley's Aunt Krista bought this for him! I was floored, number 1, since it was so darn close to the Busy Ball Popper. She said she almost bought him the Ball Popper, but at the last minute decided to get the Choo Choo since she works for the railroad. Very cute. I considered taking our Ball Popper back. Luckily for all of us, I decided to keep both toys. The Choo Choo's balls just go round and round, they don't pop (although his picture sure makes it look like they do, huh?), but it moves and it's good for a crawling baby. I think the Popper is good for a toddler.
Anyway, the random guy at work ALSO SAID his grandson had the Choo Choo and loved it as well! Are these toys hot or what?
So if you're wondering what to get your neighborhood kid, your own kid, a niece or nephew, or any random person on the street, the Playskool Busy Ball Popper is for you. Seriously.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)