Our BAD summer begins!

This rainy leftover-cake-for-breakfast morning* is the dawn of the kids' and I's summer together.

Our chaos-strewn house already looks like it was invaded by warring troops of toy and paper hoarding monkeys. We have a lot of work to make it a mere shambles again.

I couldn't be more excited. This summer holds so much potential, so much opportunity.

The kids and I decided to go for a BAD summer this year: book a day. We're going to try to read at least one book together every day. Rogue is four and Scout is a new reader, so we're setting our goal of one a day in the field of picture books. We're also planning on reading longer books aloud together throughout the week. Ranger and I will each be reading books at least 15 minutes a day every day.

Jim and I started reading chapter books aloud with the kids some evenings at dinner. There is magic in sharing the experience of books like Elise Broach's great beetle adventure Masterpiece and Doreen Cronin's retired rescue dog J.J. Tully mysteries The Trouble With Chickens, The Legend of Diamond Lil, and The Chicken Squad. As I looked up these titles, I found that both Broach and Cronin have extended these wonderful series with new titles. The kids ran into to look and we called Jim at work to tell him. The books are that good.

This summer we plan to cook, play, game, be creative, visit friends, make our home welcoming for visitors, laugh, dance, game, dream, listen to music, crack jokes,explore, learn, blow bubbles, share, help where we can, be part of our neighborhood and community, picnic, and recharge our souls.

Ranger and I will both be writing about the BAD books we find notable. I'm so excited that he's about to start writing here.

What should we be reading and doing?
What things are you planning?

May your summer be a wonderful adventure, friends!


*Even with leftover lemon cake available, the girls chose Cheerios. Ranger on the other hand, stumbled out of his room asking about the cake.

**Baby Toolkit is the ongoing story of a Midwestern family on the adventure that is life. We are astronauts on spaceship Earth taking in the vast wonder of the universe. We are also Amazon affiliates, so if you purchase after clicking through our links, a tiny bit of the proceeds become resources for future Jones endeavors. Check out our board game podcast at GreatBigTable.com.

Driving the Duck: Ditching Unhealthy Metaphors

Sometimes, I notice a bit of my own psychology sticking out like a bra strap or trailing my shoe like hitchhiking toilet paper. Earlier this spring I tweeted:

Somebody please tell me today is going to work out all right. It's suddenly gone off the rails.
— Adrienne Jones (@babytoolkit) March 22, 2013

Off the rails. I hadn't realized I was on a train, but it seems like that's been my underlying operating metaphor for a long, long time.

Trains travel stop to stop on a prescribed route. They're expected to operate on a schedule and are usually judged for their accuracy in meeting that schedule. While wanderers can take take trains, trains can't wander (engineers call that derailment).

I'm tired of the train. Every unexpected variation in life (tornado, preemie, health issues, financial changes) meant derailment, reassessment, organizing cranes, laying new tracks and feeling like I was missing obligations.

Imperial War Museum Collection
Taken by Sgt. Midgley
No 5 Army Film & Photographic Unit

My train perpetually ran off-track and behind schedule. Even with best efforts, there were mudslides and break-downs. And when I made it to a station, all I could think of was my failure to meet the schedule.

So, I'm test-driving a new metaphor. As a kid, my family took a duck ride in Wisconsin Dells. The slightly-ridiculous car-boat hybrid fascinated me. Developed for amphibious military assault in WWII, the "duck" (actually written as DUKW) could wander through the woods, climb hills, and splash into water.


DUKWs were ruggedly built to meet the assumption of a rapidly changing environment. They're often covering hard territory, so they don't move fast like trains, but the view is terrific, and stopping for an occasional picnic seems entirely sensible.

Since I decided to leave my metaphorical train behind, I find myself rethinking changes and set-backs. The DUKW is allowing me more meandering. We're more frequently found at the library and the park, and now I'm here blogging (the train seemed to have abandoned this station entirely).

So, join me on this first summer of the DUKW.

Moby Duck DUKW, Photo by Walter Taucher

Don't they just look awesome in parades?

For a more serious discussion along similar lines, watch for an upcoming review of Ana Homayoun's The Myth of the Perfect Girl.

***Baby Toolkit is the ongoing saga of a geek family making their way in this large and fascinating world. We have no particular financial stake in ducks, DUKWS, DUKW tours, duck tours (whatever that might mean), or Perigee/Penguin Publishing. We are Amazon Affiliates, so a small portion of purchases made through our links comes back to us where we'll spend it on something silly like domain names, board games, or marshmallows. We also podcast on board games and game groups at Great Big Table. Thanks for reading! 

Now in Stereo*: We Launch a Boardgames Podcast at GreatBigTable.com

Jim and I have been talking about boardgames for decades, so it's about time we start inviting others to the conversation. While we'll still post written reviews on boardgames here on Baby Toolkit, we just issued our first episode of Great Big Table- our podcast about introducing more people to the boardgaming hobby.  We'll definitely be discussing gaming with our kids and families there, but we're also talking about some community gaming we do with friends, family, coworkers, and at church.

If you have gaming group or are thinking about starting one, please join in this new conversation. If you just want to hear how goony we sound when speaking or some of the conversational torment we like to dish out, well, there's that too.

The podcasts are free and can be individually downloaded  or by subscription. We're not on iTunes yet, but that should happen shortly.

If you have better things to do with your time, we aren't surprised, but sometimes you need to egregiously waste time to really see its value.

*Actually, I think it's mono, so the listener on the left has identical mental loss to the listener seated on the right.

***Baby Toolkit remains the written meanderings of a couple geek parents. Not only are we affiliated with GreatBigTable.com, we ARE GreatBigTable.com.

Crossing the Rubicon: Living in the After

All smiles: the same week we discovered the need for surgery.

Transformational experiences sometimes appear out of nowhere, blindsiding us into new realities. Other times, they appear like distant comets- tiny specks in telescopes that hurtle in predictable trajectories until they appear enormous over our heads.

Our youngest's premature birth blindsided us, so we didn't take much note of the comet of her birth defects when it faintly blinked in the distant darkness.

Now, one craniofacial reconstruction later, we are watching the comet trail away. Breathing easier knowing that it didn't smash into us, but wondering if or when it might make a return trip.

It's hard to rejoin life (already in progress). Our trip to the children's hospital left every one of our children with new needs. The backlog of unfinished business only grew while we were away. We are different after intense fear and bittersweet months of trying to savor each moment with our kids.

When we started the process of this surgery back in October, I knew we were crossing a Rubicon; the decisions we made would be irreversible. But I thought we were Caesar commanding the troops into battle. Now I feel more like the troops running across the bridge with the heat of flames burning our necks.

Our daughter is doing well. Her expert surgical team dealt deftly with unforeseen changes in her condition and a potentially catastrophic emergency during surgery.

Despite the rarity of her medical situation, we feel lucky. Fortunate to be surrounded by wonderful communities, astounding medical options, and the generosity of friends and strangers. Most of all, we are thankful that our daughter, with all her humor and vigor, remains with us.

A special thank you to the anonymous people who donated the 2 units of negative rh blood (which we don't have to donate) that now circulate through her little body. According to her geneticist, the blood is now becoming her own after two weeks, but for over two weeks, your blood has been fueling her heart and body. Our appreciation is overwhelming, and I cannot sufficiently express our gratitude that you donated.

We are all here, but our world, though so good, has become somewhat unfamiliar. Please excuse us if we seem a little tongue-tied and keeping glancing at sky.

***Baby Toolkit is the story of two geek parents navigating an ever-expanding universe with their three wonderful and complicated kids. All opinions are our own.

Orbiting Jupiter

Dear friends,

You may think our previous "back on track" post was some sick tease, but two days later I stood holding the baby's hand while a CT scanner roved round and round her head. By the end of that week, she and I were talking to the director of pediatric neurosurgery (okay, the baby mostly listened).

Now we're waiting for a more complete, full-sedation-required, 3D CT and its analysis by a brain surgeon and a plastic surgeon.

That has mostly taken the wind out of our sails.

Yet we are trying to live with mindfulness and intentionality. Time with our daughter has greater significance, time with all three of our kids does. In this strange waiting period, we are keenly aware that time with family passes at the same (too fast) rate even during anxiety or crisis.

Shortly after all this happened, we went to a local observatory (built with a barn silo dome) and peered all the way to Jupiter and saw her icy moons.

Jupiter, October 22, 2011. photo credit: Peter Riesett, (LordJumper) via Flickr and Creative Commons. (Thanks for sharing!)

Before Ranger's obsession with space, I couldn't stand to think of the universe's enormity. Now, I'm grateful for the awareness (from our vantage point atop the shoulders of giants). We are markedly different than most of the known universe, and we have the remarkable tools to explore it. Even kids who can't tie their shoes can see more clearly than many master astronomers of past generations.

I'm trying to look at our medical unknowns in the same light. Not to fear the vastness, but to find the wonder, opportunity, and miracles in what unfamiliar territory teaches about our present position.


***Baby Toolkit is the chronicle of two Midwestern geeks encountering the vast and varied realm of parenting.

Keeping Up With the Joneses

Actually, the title might best be "Falling Behind with the Joneses." Since Spring 2010, the quick summary of our lives sounds a bit too soap opera for comfort: family member in coma, frightening pregnancy, rare pregnancy complication, emergency birth peril, NICU, preemie, newborn sleeplessness, birth defects, medical appointments, friend in coma, parent having surgery, and the deaths of (different) friend and (different) family member.

My mind was simply too muddled to write. Since Ranger started Kindergarten and Scout started preschool this Fall, I've been trying to tackle a year and half of neglected housework and family business. As the dark tide of laundry recedes to reveal the laundry room floor and the downstairs sofa sheds it heavy coat of clean laundry, unwritten sentences rise to the surface.

So, with a slight flutter of Apple II-era remembrance* (thank you, Mr. Jobs), may I repeat the first phrase I ever made a computer monitor to display:

HELLO WORLD!

We've missed you.

*The electric thrill I felt seeing those words appear on the screen of my grade school's only computer still resonates when I consider how words written in my living room instantly travel worldwide.

***Baby Toolkit is the periodic commentary of two geek parents from the Midwest. When we're not telling our kids things like "Don't eat the toilet paper," we read, play games, explore, and generally struggle with parenting and household management.

Tilt-an-URL: Check Your Links

Back in 2007, Jim told me to buy a domain. I dithered around until babytoolkit.com was snatched up by another party (who ran a web store), and then I registered the runner up URL baby-toolkit.com.


In pixels I thought it was great. Then I tried to verbally direct someone to it. Baby-dash-toolkit.com? Baby-hyphen-toolkit.com? Oy vey. Babytoolkit.blogspot.com.

Baby-toolkit expires tomorrow and shall not be renewed, so if you're one of the 3 people using that address please stop and start using:


(drum roll please...)

WWW.BABYTOOLKIT.COM

We outlasted the web store (which is like outliving a gnat) and plucked the URL from their ashes.

If you were looking for a web store, WELCOME and please disregard the previous message.

Our (un)Resolved Life: 2011 Wishes

As 2010 draws to a close at the toy-strewn Jones Ranch, we're commemorating the year's closure by enacting a rather typical 2010 evening- carry-out food and Mythbusters on Netflix streaming.

Beyond "more sleep" and "fewer episodes of Barney" (the price of literate preschoolers operating Netflix streaming), Jim and I are waaay too tired to conjure new resolutions.

We're thankful to be spending this mundane evening with our little family at home.  A quiet night together is welcome respite.

May your 2011 be full of quotidian joys and comforts.  Peace and goodwill to you, friends, as we travel through this turbulent life.

Her First Mistake: Our Story of Premature Birth

Once upon a time ago
Way up in the land of sleet and snow
How this fairy tale would go
I could not have known*

A few weeks ago I loaded the kids into the car, handed the keys to my dad, and told Ranger that I'd pick him up from preschool dismissal in a few hours.  Although my energy levels were low and I was having a few strange symptoms, this pregnancy consistently depleted me in ways prior pregnancies had not.

The morning's routine OB visit would most likely confirm some sort of Braxton-Hicks false alarm and leave me with instructions to "take it easy" for the next 6 weeks.  At worst, I thought I might be sent home for more formal bed rest.

One routine ultrasound, non-stress test, and doctor's appointment later, I was walking into the hospital admissions to be monitored and given further tests.  The routine blood screening results pointed to a completely unsuspected problem, I met the high-risk pregnancy specialist, and short term monitoring ensued.  My dad transferred the kids to Jim as the morning's tests stretched into the afternoon.  My comfortable clothing was vanquished for a hospital gown while night fell outside the windowless triage unit.  Around the time the hospital kitchen closed for the night, I was informed that the doctor had ordered a 24 hour test and I wouldn't be going home until the test's completion.  Everything was weird, but I still expected to return home pregnant.


Around midnight I moved to an actual hospital room.  With a hospital gown, fetal monitoring cables, rampantly unshaven legs (think wookie), and a pregnant woman's bladder, the en suite bathroom was a welcome change from regularly walking down a public hallway with cables resting over my neck (hiking up the gown in awful ways).  When the nurses confiscated my cup of water in the middle of the night, I wrote the whole situation off as a need for fasting bloodwork.  I slept fitfully for a few hours still thinking I would return home within 24 hours.

Shortly before dawn, a technician filled vial after vial with blood.  My water cup made no return appearance and a nurse put me on an IV.  Something was afoot.  I texted Jim and my dad about this, but didn't make the cognitive leap.  I called my mom (she doesn't text) and said that I might be being prepped for something, but the 24 hour test wouldn't be over for at least 12 more hours.

A couple minutes later, my OB walked in the room and told me that she couldn't sleep at night because my first round of blood work results were mysterious and alarming.  That morning's results were even worse, and I would be having the baby in about an hour.

It was then I knew I had made my first mistake

I had less than an hour to get Jim there, arrange impromptu care for the kids, and inform my parents (who live at least 30 minutes away from the hospital).  During a few frantic calls arranging the transfer of car seats and kids**, hospital staff started surgical prep.  I gathered up my few personal items and just tried to manage the logistics from a hospital bed that suddenly seemed to be on the other side of the moon.

One (accidental) look in the mirror told me that I shouldn't see the kids before surgery.  My typically scruffy appearance had turned from indifferent to unwell.  I wasn't quite ready to be cast in a zombie movie, but it no longer required blood work to see that things were abnormal.  I didn't want to scare the kids (and Ranger already dislikes hospitals), so I made more calls to make sure they didn't come to see me.  Jim made it just in time to prep and attend the birth.

I said come on baby
Come on baby
Come on baby

Except for the expedited nature of the birth, everything else was familiar.  Same surgical staff and anesthesiologist as both of the other kids.  The recognizable experience lulled me into thinking that everything else would be familiar, even when they introduced me to a nurse from the NICU who take care of the baby after the birth.

In the swirl of the operating room, the great question of baby gender was finally answered: a baby girl, a new daughter, a new sister...

It was then I met this girl so fine
She made me think so fast I left my thoughts behind

I got to hold her, this miniature doppelganger of earlier Jones babies, for a head-swimming moment

I could see her light began to shine

She turned...her eyes met mine
And suddenly the whole world became
A better place
 

Even if it was only for an instant

Then the NICU nurse rushed her off fearing respiratory distress.

It was then I knew I had made my

Second mistake

The recovery room seemed quiet to the point of vacancy.  Despite all signs to the contrary, I kept hoping that the curtain would draw back and the baby would be rolled in.  Instead each tug of the curtain only revealed someone else with questions or tests for me.

Soon the my bed was on the move.  I was wheeled to our daughter's baby-warming bassinet in the NICU and able to hold her briefly.

It was then I knew I had made my third mistake

In the NICU's bright lights and beeping alarms, I realized that our baby wasn't the exceptional case- the miracle baby who would elude the NICU and an extended hospital stay despite a premature birth.  She would not stay overnight in my hospital room.  She would have to gain weight and learn to digest food before she could leave specialists' care.

Then, like some twisted Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, I found my bed on the move again as I left our tiny baby in the care of others, well-trained strangers, but strangers none the less.

Yes three strikes right across the plate
And as I hollered honey please wait
She was gone

Hours turned to days as the baby and I struggled to normal functioning.  I came home without her, and Jim and I worked to be at the hospital for most of her medical tests and waking time (8 feedings, 1 every 3 hours).  She grew stronger, achieved milestones, and eventually was released into our care.  Soon she was in our chaotic home meeting her siblings for the first time.

And that's when she knew
She had made her
First mistake.

Honey I don't know just what you heard
But come on baby
Are my favorite words
And where we're going
Is a long way from here

So like I said before
I could not have known
How this fairy tale would finally go
 

Still the only certain thing for sure
Is what I do not know
 

So like the years and all the seasons pass
And like the sand runs through the hour glass
 

I just keep on running faster
Chasing the happily
I am ever after

I just keep on running faster
Chasing the happily
I am ever after

*If you don't listen to Lyle Lovett, you should start immediately. And yes, Logan, I was thinking of Deer Creek when I wrote this.

**Thank you, Francie.  Your willingness to jump in and help with only moment's notice is extraordinary in both kindness and logistics.  You amaze me, friend.

***Baby Toolkit is the ongoing thoughts of two geek parents.  We are all doing well (except for a lack of sleep) as we adjust to this new routine.  Happy New Year, small print readers (you know we love you the most)!

Half the Weight, Twice the Adventure: Pregnacy Goes Preemie

For months, I've been anticipating the announcement of Baby Toolkit's newest geek.  It's been hard for me to keep quiet for months about our baby in development, especially as this pregnancy has been my most challenging.  This may make my posts about specific foods a bit more understandable.

BabyGeek1.3 (yet to be nicknamed) conspired with my AMA (Advanced Maternal Aged) body for a Beta release.  More clearly put, she was born prematurely at a 34 week gestational age.  Her weight, slightly less than a little sack of sugar, is about half that of our older kids.  The strong family resemblance makes her seem a miniature of Ranger and Scout as babies.  Even at a tender young gestational age, our littlest girl exudes personality and family traits.  When she puts on her Elvis lip and it transitions into a sly half-smile, the twisted Jones sense of humor seems strong in this one.  She's also been driving a few of the NICU nurses crazy with her physical strength and persistent desire to kick off swaddling devices.

The health problems that precipitated her birth are resolving themselves quickly.  Our little baby is growing leaps and bounds in NICU.  Ranger and Scout look forward to meeting her in person.

In the crazy hours surrounding her birth I realized (with regret) that I have read almost nothing about pre-term babies.  We have much to learn right now.

We proudly welcome this tenacious new member to our family.

~the Joneses

All Is Quiet On The Blogging Front

Mario meets the Mad Hatter

Just in case you were worrying: We didn't slip down any rabbit holes during GenCon Indy nor were we abducted by legions of stormtroopers.

Why the recent radio silence, you ask?

As bloggers, Jim and I have tried to keep a separation between parts of our lives (especially in respecting the privacy of those close to us) and what we post.  This summer, that undisclosed part of our lives has been a series of challenges and revelations.  My mind became a contemplative space.  As a result, I kept writing posts about our normal content that felt formulaic, cheesy, or out of touch.  In my opinion, those writings simply were not worth posting.  Even our 4th blogaversary passed unmentioned.

Recently Baby Toolkit's siren's song has returned to my ears.  This summer Jim and I have found a host of things we want to write about.  I really want to tell you about Ranger's birthday cake and let you peek into our geeks' eye view of GenCon.  This has been a banner year for new books and games as publishers put out some surprisingly wonderful new products for preschoolers.  I'm reading a book on baby cognitive development that is fresh and inspiring even for a seasoned parent.  A new compilation album is rocking our world.  We also have some new projects and household solutions.

Thank you for subscribing and sticking with us through the quiet times.  Your good faith is strong motivation to return to the keyboard.


***Baby Toolkit is two geeks' tale of parenting young children in a complicated and ever-fascinating world. We send our best wishes to others currently battling the dragons of offline life.

Hey, you guys! Baby Toolkit is no longer grounded

I should explain our recent radio silence.  For months, I have owed a car seat and stroller review to our friends at ZRecs.  In March, I decided to ground myself from Baby Toolkit until I handed in my homework.

This weekend I completed the review.  It's mammoth.  It has videos.

In other news, I've been exploring the outside world.  Through happy circumstance I stumbled into a really motivating exercise class.

Friends have visited, games have been played, books have been read, movies have been watched, gadgets have been utilized, problems have been hacked, and lots of food has been eaten.

One nice thing about time in the outside world is that it gives us a lot of inspiration for blogging.

Hang onto your hats, people!  We may start posting with intensity.  Once, maybe even twice a week.

So what have you been up to?

P.S. We also redecorated the blog, so if you feedreader folks want to stop by and tell us how much you miss the old 565 Blogger template, we're happy to hear your thoughts.

***Baby Toolkit is the independent opinion of some slackers who periodically write about geek parenting.

I Get Around: Recent Guest Posts

To Ranger's utter horror, the Raptor started crawling (right toward his favorite toys). Her newfound mobility challenges me too. But between negotiating minor turf wars, I've enjoyed writing posts for two of my favorite blogs.

• Z Recommends gave us a chance to review bumbleride's Queen B pram style stroller.

• Dot at Dabbled.org invited me to write a guest post during her vacation. You might remember her open source robot party invitations that we used for Ranger's birthday and the decorate-it-yourself bakery cake they inspired. Check out some of our favorite summer books and make sure to click through to Dot's AWESOME dragon cake.
  
  (If you've already subscribed to Dabbled's feed, please check to make sure it's still active. Dabbled's recent transition to WordPress left a number of subscribers behind.)

Thanks for reading Baby Toolkit!

Worst Bedtime Stories: Some Origins of My Childhood Nightmares

At Easter dinner, my brother mentioned relocating a book from childhood. As he intoned the title, I asked "Is that the one with the monkey's paw?"

"You mean 'The Patchwork Monkey,' and yes..." he said.

The Patchwork Monkey: the story that made me twitch a little in the presence of stuffed monkeys and patchwork stuffed animals of all stripe. The story that made me afraid to be alone, especially in the dark. How could I forget it?

"Baleful Beasts and Eerie Creatures? I remember seeing that book around," my mom answered.

My brother continued, "...and there was that story about the box."

"Oh, the thing that gets loose in the house, and grows?" I queried.

While my brother filled in the rest of the plot, my skin chilled as if cold wind swept suddenly through the dining room. I hated that book. It terrorized me, but I could not resist it. Over a long period of time, I read each story in the anthology. For the first time, I realized that it had also bothered my brother.

He continued "Funny thing, do you know the year on the inscription?"

Mutely, I shook my hood.

The year he turned 5 and I turned 3. He could read well by 5. He could read aloud by 5. I doubt he read it to me at 3, but I suspect it was before First Grade. In my foggy memories of reading that first harrowing story, he looms large. It seems quite plausible that he played the role of narrator.

Suddenly all those years (and I seriously mean years) of night terror suddenly seemed less mysterious. And it explained why I stuffed the unusually heavy hand-me-down patchwork dog in the back of my closet and NEVER wanted a sock monkey.

The reemergence of Baleful Beasts touched a nerve in him. "Do you remember this other book? I'm SURE someone read it to us at [elementary school]. There was this hunter who shot a monster's tail off?"

More childhood memories returned. Carefully tucking every inch of cover around myself (head included) after my mom left the room at night. Realizing in horror that my teddy bear fell from the bed to the floor and then crying because I was too scared to rescue her.

The title of this terrifying tome? Tailypo. It's downright comical now.

My dad and brother embarked to find both books online. It turns out Baleful Beasts is a desirable collector's item and Tailypo's spooky illustrations aren't that much different than Farmer Brown from Click Clack Moo taking on an oversized dust bunny (on the other hand, Baleful Beasts' cover still creeps me out).

When I walked in the computer room dad said "Baleful Beasts sells for $150." There was pride in his voice that he'd had the foresight to give my brother such a valuable book.

My brother started reading me the Amazon reviews for Tailypo. It's amazing how many reviewers were traumatized by the book via elementary school teachers. Lots of adults echoed his feelings about Tailypo: "Aside from teh [sic] mental scarring, I love this book."

Next thing I knew I was reading all the comments for both books (especially Baleful Beasts). Seeing the readers' remarks I realized those texts were pretty powerful stuff for young kids and inspired more than a few nightmares worldwide.

Though it hadn't been ordered before we left, I suspect a copy of Tailypo will soon be winging its way via parcel service (or flying monkey) to my brother.

I made him promise not to show either book to Ranger or the Raptor until they are much older.

So what scared the heck out of you as kid?
How do you plan to handle similar materials with your own kids?

Games Month Marches On

March turned out to be a rough month around the Jones house. We were all sick. And the very moment I started feeling better, I dumped a glass of water in my laptop. Ironically, I had not one, but two waterproof USB keyboards within easy walking distance at the time of the accident.

Our goal for Game Month was 31 game reviews, so by my count we're hoping to get out 27 more reviews in upcoming weeks. Wish us luck and stay tuned.

Maximize Your Educational Time: LeapFrog Announces New Dream & Learn Orb

We're in love with LeapFrog educational products for young children. As I prepare to announce the winner in our LeapFrog National Reading Month contest I just received word of a new study aid to be released later this year (alongside the Tag Jr. and Text & Learn).

Anyway, here's the skinny (direct from the press release):

LEAPFROG® DREAM & LEARN™ SMART ORB MAKES KIDS

SLEEP SMARTER AND WAKE UP BRIGHTER

“Study While You Slumber” Product Will Make Every Kid Valedictorian

EMERYVILLE, CA—April 1, 2009—Today LeapFrog Enterprises, Inc. (NYSE: LF) proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that learning can happen anytime, anyplace—with satisfaction guaranteed. After a decade of top-secret, government-funded testing at underground research facilities in several undisclosed locations, LeapFrog has released the revolutionary Dream & Learn Smart Orb. Dream & Learn is the first product to harness the unique ability of children’s brains to absorb raw intelligence delivered via high frequency sound waves. Now all kids (and the occasional cocker spaniel) can instantly comprehend difficult-to-learn concepts—while they sleep!

“Every child sleeps an average of nine hours a night, so why not turn this normally wasted time into a painless study session—and ace that chemistry final?” said Nancy MacIntyre, executive vice president, product, innovation and marketing. “Parents who despair that their child will ever grasp the quadratic formula, Zeno’s Paradox or the answer to ‘how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?’ will now rest easy. We’re happy to say that, thanks to our space-age engineering, having the brightest kid on the block is no longer just a dream.”

Turning centuries of educational theory on their head, the patented smartification technology embedded within Dream & Learn—Subjective Neurological Osmosis Retention & Entertainment (S.N.O.R.E.)—allows children to go to sleep as usual and simply wake up noticeably smarter (albeit, in approximately 10 per cent of test cases, somewhat groggy). The Dream & Learn’s (http://www.leapfrog.com/en/shop/dreamandlearn.html) compact size, sleek spherical shape and hermetically sealed shell allow it to be nestled safely and unobtrusively next to any standard-sized pillow. And the ”infinity dial” of subjects lets parents choose exactly which Amazing Knowledge Archive (how to calculate a molar solution; baking a perfect pie crust—every time!; exactly who is buried in Grant’s Tomb?) will grow their little one’s brain each night.

Fighting Over Homework—Never Again!

Dream & Learn eliminates the need for any parent ever again to nag their child to finish homework. Parents simply set the Dream & Learn dial to the topic of their choice, place the device near their child’s pillow and off the little one goes into productive slumber. The S.N.O.R.E.’s proprietary sonic algorithms infiltrate and effectively “hijack” the child’s unconscious and download the selected information directly to the appropriate lobes of the brain. A satisfied parent said, “My son used to fail every math quiz he took. But now, at only eight years old, he is heading to Antarctica to do stuff my wife and I can’t even pronounce, let alone understand. Thanks, LeapFrog!”

Already in development are next-gen products that will actually allow a child to sleep around the clock—and get smarter, faster, than possible while awake. And depending on their particular parenting philosophies, moms and dads can even choose not to tell their child he or she is “Dream & Learn”-ing, placing the orb after bedtime and removing it in the wee hours of the morning. The child will awaken smarter—but none the wiser.

Availability and Money-back Guarantee

Dream & Learn Smart Pod is now available from LeapFrog’s web site. If within ten days your child is not a seven-language-speaking viola virtuoso leading NASA’s mission to DNA profile the rings of Saturn, you are guaranteed a full refund of the purchase price plus applicable shipping and handling charges.

...and yes, LeapFrog did actually send out this release today.

Happy April Fool's Day!
Check out The Toby Show and Google Maps' street view icon for more 4/1 fun.

Chalking Things Up: Guest Stroller Review On Z Recommends

People kept asking me about this image on my driveway.

Utility warnings? Hobo symbols? Geometry vandals?

Nope. Stroller physics.

Check our review (fortified with chalky physics) out at Z Recommends and don't miss the second post where I install the infant carrier properly.

Happy Birthday, Baby Toolkit!

This week Baby Toolkit turned ONE!

We started this blog because strangers always asked about our baby gear, and I was getting tired of writing (and remembering) URLs and product details. So, we created a blog. That way I could give out our blog address rather than having to remember individual details.

I was floored when Parent Hacks first referenced us last November, but eager for more.

Thanks to all our new friends for a year's worth of inspiration, encouragement, and insight. We're so glad you're here.

We'd like to give away a deluxe Diaper Valet set to a valued reader: Diaper Valet, changing pad, and handle (optional, of course). Just leave a comment (and your name tagged with a linking email address or URL) to enter. We'll accept entries through the end of August, 2007 and will randomly draw for a winner. The only people who can't enter are Mo, Jim, me, Ranger, and our immediate family.

Thanks for a great year!

Baby Gear Addiction

Like most geeks we are gear afficianados. Thus it comes as little surprise we are now baby gear addicts. It's not that we BUY every piece of baby equipment made, but we investigate anything that looks innovative and/or practical.

We don't own a wipe warmer or a little duck that holds plastic bags, but we have some wonderfully useful things that get us stopped in stores and restaurants with inquiries, so we decided to move the list of our favorite baby things online.

May this list bring you information, entertainment, or another fine reason not to confront that growing pile of laundry in front of the washer...