Bowling With Recyclables

Growing up on military bases, Jim had easy access to bowling alleys. Jim's dad bowled in military leagues and (coincidentally) now works for a bowling ball manufacturer.


Around two and half, we took Ranger bowling for the first time. He loved it. We've gone a few times since.

Last night Ranger kept mentioning bowling, so we dug through the recycle bin for some impromptu pins.

Our Simply Lemonade containers are ideal choices. We all prefer them upside-down because it improves the chain reactions and delivers a very satisfying clatter when they fall. The lids are heavy enough that Ranger has no problem setting them up on our own.

Other bottles that worked well are water bottles, shampoo bottles, and half gallon juice bottles. Milk gallons will work, but don't provide much satisfaction in sound or tumbling action when hit.

We used a foam ball, a spherical soccer ball pillow, and a rubber ball. All the balls worked well, so it looks like you could use any ball that fits your toddler's hands well and isn't too heavy.

We think soda bottles would work well, but didn't have any on hand to test.

These impromptu bowling sets can make an easy and cheap activity for entire herds of toddlers.

It's always fun to find toys in the recycling bin: check out our homemade milk-carton building blocks. (They'll also do substitute bowling pins in a pinch.)

Letter-Perfect: DIY Toddler-Friendly Custom Storage Labels

Whenever we buy a warehouse box of wipes, we get another pop-up dispenser box. This isn't a real boon since we're still using our original wipes box at the changing table and our second wipes box downstairs.

A friend's brother uses some of our surplus boxes to organize and store auto parts and hardware bits in his garage.

Ranger's been pretty obsessed with his magnetic letters lately. Late last year he explored the house for new magnetic surfaces, so now magnetic letters, shapes, and potholders can be found hanging on many doors and appliances around the house.

The bulk of the letters used to travel together around the house in a lidless cardboard Clementine box. In the last week, that box has been deemed perfect for marble play, so the letters would be randomly heaped in front of doors.

The wipes box was perfect for holding his letter collection. At least until Ranger decided to use it to hold two marbles and the alphabet heaps began reappearing around the house. A label seemed like it might help as long as Ranger could read it.

I scanned some letters for a label (our scanner has a glass bed so all voids show as black space) and printed the resulting image. It easily attached to the box with two strips of packaging tape. Ranger now understands that the box has specific purpose.

How do you help toddlers learn to put stuff away?

Feel the Burn: When Hot Peppers Fight Back

Last night, Ranger's grandparents tangled with some peppers of unknown origin they received at church. The very bright green peppers turned out not to be sweet peppers but instead held within them the very seeds of fire.

My parents tend to like very hot foods. My dad's been accused of attempted assassination for serving his rather spicy spaghetti sauce, and the family chili recipe has made people ask "What keeps the pot from melting?" as they gobble down seconds and thirds to stave off the inevitable burn.

Mom called this morning because her hands were still burning from cutting the peppers barehanded last night. Popular wisdom (via Google) unwisely suggests lots of caustics and/or drying agents (ranging from undiluted bleach to ethyl alcohol to 100 proof vodka); all bad ideas. I cannot imagine that these remedies do much more than dry the skin and make it more irritable.

Our own experience and a rather colorful story about friend's hot pepper connoisseur father and poorly timed trip to the urinal (along with wikipedia) point toward oily compounds to quickly remove the pepper's burn agent (capsaicin). We've found that whole milk or yogurt (preferably a non-low-fat variety) work best internally and humble fatty mayonnaise is great topically (store brands often have the highest fat content).

Grandma just called back after trip to the store for cheap mayo, and reports "immediate relief" for her burning hands.

Mastering the Stink: Our DIY Diaper Pail

Earlier this year, our once-revived Diaper Champ went down for the final count. Though replacing the seals extended the useful life of the Champ, there was nothing we could to do to stop the stink from moving into the porous plastic parts.

The Diaper Champ perpetually smelled like a convention of port-a-potties on a hot day. I didn't want to deal with this reality, but when I opened it one day to find a dozen staggering drain flies circling inside, I knew its useful life was over. I bagged the Champ, diapers, drain flies, and all. When Jim dropped it in the compactor at our local waste disposal station, he ran back to the car.

"Hurry, they've firing up the compactor!"

I started the engine just in time to hear the Champ's plastic sides blow out, popping the bag.

"Mosquitos!" Ranger proclaimed as a cloud of drain flies blackened out the sky over the facility. With slow deliberation, I drove nonchalantly away from the creeping smell.

We talked about buying another Diaper Champ to see if the next generation is indeed improved, but decided such stink free plastic pails to be mere pipe dreams. Plus, there's not much sustainability in recycling one of those giant plastic stinkholes for each child we raise.

So we went with an earlier plan involving a metal pail with a tightly locking lid. We got a small steel can at Lowe's for $13.98 and (this time) a brand new tube of caulk (learning from our previous curing problems).

On the underside of the lid, Jim put two beads of caulk on the handle bases and three concentric circles of caulk around the outer edges. After a few days off-gassing on our porch, the pail was ready for use.

We just use a kitchen trash bag inside of it and twist it closed after each diaper. The inside of the pail reeks, but when closed exudes no olfactory offense to bystanders. It's not a 1-handed disposal, but it's easier than carrying every single diaper downstairs and out to the main trash in the garage and it uses far less plastic than individually bagging each stinkbomb (we really don't like plastic bags) and putting them in indoor trashcans.

After a few weeks of field testing, we've found that the diaper pail doesn't retain a smell when not in use- and the drain fly population seems to be nearing extinction in our household.

How do you keep the air fresh during the diapering years?

Update (9/10/08): The pail kept the stink under control, but couldn't win against the drain flies. We've since purchased a different version of the Diaper Champ.