Television No More?

I'm afraid I don't have very good news. I thought it was OK to allow my 17-month-old son to watch a little bit of television, but then I found a report on the Nemours Foundation Web site that contends it is not.

Not exactly what this working mother wants to hear.

Ever since Hendrick started waking up at the crack of dawn I have been allowing him to watch "Clifford the Big Red Dog," "Curious George" or "Sesame Street" while I rest for another 30 to 40 minutes. I work nights, so those extra minutes in the morning are a big deal.

And, besides, he's safe in the playpen next to my bed and watching something kid-friendly and commercial-free. Is that really so bad?

Experts differ on when it's acceptable to begin watching educational programs and how much young children should watch. Some argue it may only train them to become future couch potatoes while others contend it helps them learn language quicker.

Upon the advice of our adoption social worker, I started Hendrick out with 20 minutes per day, or one Baby Einstein video while strapped in his little chair. He was captivated, and I used that time to take a quick shower or make an important call or fix a meal. (So many chores, so little time...)

Sometimes, a mom really needs those extra minutes. Because, if your household is like mine, once we walk out of that bedroom our day is nonstop action - spills, thrills and spine-chilling moments when I discover my son attempting some new death-defying feat either at the kitchen table or the playground.

Maybe it's wrong, but I often think the time Hendrick spends in front of the TV is the only time during his waking hours that he is completely safe. And the only time of the day when I can breathe easy.

For information on appropriate structured activities for your toddler, check out the foundation's Web site, particularly this article:
http://www.kidshealth.org/parent/fitness/general/active_toddler.html

Promise delayed

Last fall I bought a brand new jogging stroller. You should see it. It's beautiful, a dark red canvas seat and a double cup holder with a little glove compartment. Hendrick loves the smooth, roomy ride. It's the SUV of strollers.

I had every intention of using it as part of a daily mommy-and-me exercise routine. Unfortunately, this oversized baby buggie didn't fit in the trunk of my midsized sedan so strolls on the boardwalk became a problem. Then it got cold. Then I got lazy. (Insert a dozen more excuses here. Be creative, please.)

Now it's spring.

Maybe the sight of daffodils and other bulbs bursting through the ground inspired me. Maybe the warm breezes through my kitchen window made me long to be outdoors. Maybe I ate too many chocolate donuts this winter and needed to start feeling healthy again.

So I strapped in my little boy and we walked to the park.

Now, in my town, a walk to the park is a mile and a half away. This was no small feat for the physically unfit. But I did it. And Hendrick and I had a great time. The walk back wasn't that bad either.

The time away from home was good for both of us - no thoughts of housework or writing assignments, no phone calls interrupting our play. We just focused on each other.

I made a promise to myself last year to become more physically active. It's not always easy to keep our word, despite our good intentions, but every day present a new opportunity to make good on our commitment. Today, I took that opportunity.

Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Chubby Today, Chubby Tomorrow

I found an informative online piece about the need to keep our babies slim and trim. The rise in infant obesity is off the charts - a 75 percent spike between 1980 and 2000, according to one study cited in a Q&A by Dr. Judith Reichman.

A contributor to NBC's Today show, Reichman says parents have to start now if they want to ensure their chubby babies don't turn into chubby kids who turn into oversized adults.

Here's the link: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17708758/

In other news, I found another article that talks about the rise in narcissim among college students. Some of the same studies appeared in other articles I've recommended, so if you haven't read any of them this will bring you up to date. I like this one because it interviews college students who don't see a problem with the increase in the "I am special" mentality among their peers.

Here's the link:
http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2007/feb/27/narcissism_rising_college_students/

As I do research for this blog, I am amazed to learn that there are so many ramifications to the decisions we make for our infants and toddlers. Of course I don't want my toddler to become a self-centered and overweight adult, but I thought I wouldn't have to worry about how to handle those things until he was in grade school.

I guess I was wrong.

Giving Your Child The World

I have had a gnawing feeling in my gut for some time that something is wrong with how we are raising children in our society, and now I'm starting to read about studies that support my suspicions.

Parents who give their children everything are raising a generation obsessed with wealth and material possessions.

A recent article in the Savannah News cited studies showing teenagers and young adults are more obsessed than ever with material things. They also believe it is critical to become wealthy when they grow up. And, of course, when they become adults and things don't come as easy as when their parents handed it to them, they become greatly disappointed, leading to something called a "quarter-life crisis."

Moreover, these young adults eventually find out that obtaining all things shiny and new doesn't make them happy.

It may seem harmless now, at the infant and toddler stage, to indulge our children, but it is crucial that parents today show some restraint - no matter what their income level is. (That goes for grandparents, too!)

What's important to realize, I think, is that we project the values that one day will become instilled in our children. If we are obsessed with money, so will our kids. But, dear readers, we are fortunate. Our babies are young, and we have plenty of time to change our focus. We can show our children a world that exists outside the mall, away from the cul-de-sac lined with starter castles, and you don't need a gas-guzzling SUV to take them there.

When my husband and I started dating we spent many weekends hiking in the woods of North Jersey. He took me to the mountain top and we looked down on a verdant world that was only the color of money. Along the trails and free from the distractions of how a corrupted society measures happiness, we focused on what really mattered - our faith and each other.

That's how we built our relationship, and that's how we hope to raise our family.

Here's the link to the article: http://savannahnow.com/node/245635

Kiddie Couture

I'm always bemused when I see young children in designer clothes. Last week, Hendrick and I were in a class with a little boy with Ralph Lauren jeans. I wondered how much his parents spent on those pants, which he will surely outgrow before they go out of style.

I've been wanting to write about this subject since then but wasn't sure how to approach it without seeming petty. Serendipitously, I found a newspaper article that talks about upscale children's boutiques in Nashville and interviews some of the women who were shopping there.

I don't want to sound too judgmental but this is really too much. It's not just the wealthy who spend lavishly on kiddie couture anymore. It's often those with just enough extra income who want to feel they are part of the upper class.

We all want our children to have nice clothes but let's not go overboard. As for me, I'm grateful for all the hand-me-downs friends have given us and I'll stash our extra cash into Hendrick's college fund.

http://tennessean.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070318/FEATURES08/703190302/1087/FEATURES

Play It Safe

The Diaper Diva got back from vacation last night and, well, it didn't take long to get stressed out again. This blog will be short and sweet, so I can get my household - and my blood pressure - back to normal.

This week is National Poison Prevention Week. How do I know that? The nice people who helped me when I called their hotline a few months ago added me to their mailing list. I received a few brochures filled with tips and stickers to put on the telephone - just in case I need them again.

My dear readers may be wondering why I needed to call the hotline. My son opened my mother's purse and took out her vitamins and unscrewed the cap. Before we could stop him, Hendrick chomped down on a few of them. (The woman who answered the hotline, by the way, was very pleasant and quickly told me it was nothing to worry about.)

This incident could serve as a helpful reminder that although you keep your vitamins, aspirins and other drugs in childproof containers other people may not - and children don't seem to care whether they're searching through Mommy's bag or someone else's.

The hotline number is 1-800-222-1222. The Web site is www.poisonprevention.org.

The question of normalcy

I noticed a lot of first-time mothers, myself included, seem to ask the same question over and over again when it comes to their child's behavior. Is that normal?

During this vacation I asked myself that question several times.

I knew Hendrick really liked cars. In fact, "car" was one of the first words in his vocabulary. Anything with wheels was a car to him. Garbage truck. Bicycle. Tricycle. Wheelchair. Gurney. IV holder. (We've spent a lot of time visiting my father in the hospital.)

And during last week's visit to my in-laws, who live in an adult community on Florida's West Coast, Hendrick added "golf cart" to the all-inclusive category of "car."

One proud golf cart owner who saw Hendrick ogling his ride took my boy for a spin through the streets of Terra Siesta. Hendrick was hooked.

Our Uncle Jack, who also lives in the development, found Hendrick's fascination so amusing he loaned his cart to my husband for the weekend. You should have seen my boy seated between his dad's legs, Hendrick's little hands gripping the wheel and eyes watching everything but the road. It was pure bliss.

Until it was time to go inside.

He would pitch a fit. Scream and cry. Drag each relative, one by one, by his or her finger to the door. He knew the only thing that kept him from that golf cart - and the open road - was a doorknob he couldn't reach.

My husband took Hendrick for a few more rides over the weekend and we all laughed as he kicked the tires and circled around his so-called car and pointed to the lights.

The intensity of his interest and his ability to focus on one thing for so long seem impossible for someone so young.

So I asked my mother, "Is this normal?"

"I've never seen anything like him," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

Maybe we all say that kind of stuff about our own kids and grandkids. We all want our kids to be special, but we also let our minds wonder if our kids are highly intelligent or showing signs of obsession.

Maybe some things we really don't want to know just yet.

Hendrick's behavior got a little stranger on Monday, when a man in my mother's complex back on the East Coast started talking to us in the parking lot. The man was standing next to the open driver's side door of his Cadillac and Hendrick climbed in.

I gasped, but the man, an older person who was getting a kick out of this kid, said let him go. The man delighted in watching Hendrick grip the wheel and laughed heartily when my boy reached out his hand and grunted for the keys.

My eyes almost popped out of my head. Was my 17-month-old boy really asking for the keys to a car?

"C'mon, Hendrick," I said. "Let's go."

Later that evening I took him for a spin in his little plastic car that my mother bought him in a local consignment shop, a blue and red jalopy that only moved when I pulled the string that someone attached to the bottom.

My boy looked so beautiful as we cruised through my mother's development under the setting sun and swaying palm trees. He looked so sweet and small and happy in his little car that stopped when his feet hit the ground.

That, to me, felt normal.

The Flight

Did you know it was possible to run laps on an airplane?

It is if you're a toddler with no patience to sit on your mother's lap for three hours.

I knew it would be difficult traveling with Hendrick, who turned 17 months old last week. But I didn't expect a workout 32,000 feet above ground as well.

I thought I'd be able to carry him up and down the aisle, like I did when we flew in the fall, but either the aisle shrunk or he got bigger (I think it was a little of both) and I didn't want him kicking anyone in the head! So, rather than subjecting the other passengers to his blood-curling screams we let him explore in between the quiet moments of reading, coloring, snacking and window gazing.

My boy made quite a few friends during our flight to Florida Wednesday. Others, well, didn't find it so charming when he tugged on the wires of their MP3 players or leaned over their arm rest to watch their portable DVDs.

I'm not going to complain, though. We missed our 10 a.m. flight because, we were told at 9:20 a.m. when we tried to check our luggage, we were too late. But we were able to fly standby 90 minutes later.

Before the plane took off, the man who was seated next to us moved to an empty seat in the next row so Hendrick could have his own seat. I'm still not sure if his action was based on kindness or self-preservation. He mentioned he had grandchildren. Either way, we were grateful for the extra room.

Flying with kids is never easy. Some people seem to get that. One older lady who chatted with me between laps said she hoped I was headed to a place where I'd get some rest.

"I'm going to visit my mother," I said with a smile. The thought of my mother's presence gave me a renewed sense of energy. Sweet relief was waiting in the West Palm Beach terminal.

A huge grin appeared on the lady's face. "Oh, that's good," she said.

We came to Florida to celebrate my mother's 60th birthday. What better gift could I bring her than her beloved grandson?

Watching them play and rediscover each other this week made me realize all the aggravation to get here was worth it.

Taking the pressure off

Earlier this week I referred to a survey that found the most common excuse used by parents when asked why they don't discipline their children is that they are too tired. I was thinking about that disturbing revelation while I was driving to pick up my son's teenage babysitter the other day.

The 15-year-old girl stays with my son for two days a week for 2-3 hours after school. She plays with Hendrick while I get ready for my night job and stays with him until my husband gets home from his day job.

John and I used to do the parking-lot baby switch since we both work in the same building, but it put too much pressure on John to leave at 5 p.m. on the dot - or forced me to be late if he couldn't get out. (That doesn't work well when you're both journalists.)

So, we found someone to take the pressure off.

Many mothers could benefit from having a teen babysitter, even one who just plays with your child while you catch up on housework, cook dinner and make those important phone calls you've been putting off. It really is money well spent if it makes you feel like you've accomplish things around the house - or taken a much needed nap! - and gives you a little time away from your little ones.

I know there are some mothers who think they have to take care of everything, all the time, but the truth is we cannot. We need a little help every now and then in order to keep our tempers and priorities in check.

That teenager - boy or girl - may help you recharge so that when it comes time to discipline your child you just might have the energy to show him who's the boss.

Flying the cranky skies

The Diaper Diva is taking a well-deserved vacation to Florida. But I'm not expecting much rest and relaxation. Hendrick is coming with us, after all.

The last time my husband, John, and I dared to board an airplane with our boy was in October, two weeks before his first birthday. That wasn't a pleasure trip. We had to fly to Texas to finalize his adoption. Now, we would have walked there if it meant Hendrick would finally be ours. And, frankly, if you were sitting next to us on that three-hour flight you may have wished we opted for that mode of transport instead.

It was quite a ride.

After that trip, I told my mother, a snowbird with a home on Florida's East Coast, and John's parents, who retired to Florida's West Coast many years ago, that we wouldn't be traveling again with Hendrick any time soon. Christmas came and went and we stuck to our guns. But then the months began to pass and we started to realize how much of their grandson's development John's parents, in particular, were missing.

My mom, who left for Florida after the New Year, calls almost every day just so Hendrick wouldn't forget her voice. (He hasn't, by the way.) But he has changed so much since then; my mother will be shocked … and probably a little saddened … by all she has missed.

So, this morning we will board another plane, brace ourselves for a bumpy ride and hope for the best. The grandparents are eagerly waiting our arrival. Wish us luck!

P.S. I have prepared a few blogs in my absence but will try to post from the road whenever possible. I'll be back home next Wednesday.

Brats, Be Gones

The Diaper Diva has found another wonderful article for her readers. This one is on manners, and, ladies, we all know there are parents out there who should be hit over the head with an etiquette book.

But since that wouldn't be polite, I suggest you give them a copy of this Parents magazine article and encourage them to read it. Tell them you read it yourself and picked up a few helpful hints. (It is full of great resources for further study on child discipline.)

The article reaffirms some of the themes I have been pushing: the problems with society's overemphasis on self-esteem. Those parents who don't want to correct their kids because they fear it might hurt their self-image are in for a wild ride as the children get older.

Moreover, the consensus among experts interviewed in this article is that the main reason parents don't discipline their children is because the parents are too tired.

Too tired??

C'mon. If we are too tired to discipline our children then we have to lighten our load! If we don't have time to teach our children how to speak politely and share their toys, if we don't have time to explain why they can't hit their playmates or sass their elders, then we're doing them -- not to mention ourselves and society at large -- a huge disservice.

Of course disciplining our children is tiring. Parenting is hard work. Really, really hard work. But this is a huge part of the job we accepted when we decided to have kids. Aren't we failing to live up to our end of the bargain when we decide it's too much trouble to teach them right from wrong?

My Hendrick can be a little bratty sometimes, and I admit there are times I struggle with the right response. It's certainly easier to ignore his impertinence when I should be reaffirming the rules. Even at his age, he doesn't like to be put in his place and tries to get away with whatever he can.

But I tell myself it's for his own good, for the good of our family, to run a strict household. There can be no greater reward for all this effort than to be able to say years from now we lived in a peaceful house, where everyone spoke kindly and treated each other with respect.

Maybe that sounds like some pie-in-the-sky wishful thinking, but we have to at least try.

Here's the link to the Parents magazine article: http://www.parents.com/parents/story.jhtml?storyid=/templatedata/parents/story/data/1171577759726.xml

15 Tips

Well, I'm sure all of you made time this weekend to read through the Sunday paper, cover to cover, as you leisurely sipped a cup of coffee.

OK, I didn't have that much time either...but I really wanted to. Instead, I scanned the headlines and read the first few paragraphs from stories that looked important.

The one story I did read right down to the end was the USA Weekend cover story titled "Baby Steps: 15 important findings parents much know right now." Some of it may seem painfully obvious to you, such as the need to use a car seat and the benefits of cuddling your kids. But there are other insights, such as the risk of giving your baby too much fluoride and a new vaccine that helps prevent ear infections, that could prove helpful.

My favorite tip is the one that reminds parents about baby's need for playtime. Not structured lessons, just plain old get-on-the-floor-and-break-out-the-blocks time. Nobody can engage your child and stimulate his mind like you can, so remember to make the time to play with him.

As writers, my husband and I try to do everything possible to stimulate our son's mind by allowing him to be creative and think for himself. We play with wooden blocks, stacking rings, instruments and cars, all kinds of cars. He loves to stand over his kitchen set and workshop bench and pretend. Not everything is electronic in our house, although I'm sorry to say so many toys - even books - these days come that way.

We read him books, lots of books, each day. In English and in Spanish. We even give him the newspaper sometimes so he can look at the pictures. (It's a great resource when you run out of conversation with your not-yet-conversant tot.) "Here Hendrick. Look at the man who got indicted today," I'd say, laughing to myself. Then we'd go over his hair color and point to his mouth, ears, nose. We browse through the travel section and I say, "Look at the sunset and palm trees." His favorite, of course, is the Classifieds. He just loves those cars....

Here's the link to the USA Weekend story:
http://www.usaweekend.com/07_issues/070311/070311babies.html

Days Gone By

I never was one of those women whose heart sank when she saw a tiny infant, but it happened to me last Sunday.

I was in the nursery at our church and a woman who I hadn't seen before came in with a tiny baby girl wrapped in her arms. The girl was all dressed in pink and snuggled sweetly against her mother. The baby didn't make a sound.

I looked at my little boy playing with a truck on the floor and thought to myself he'd never be that little again. He would never be so small and helpless in my arms again. He still needs me, of course, but not like that.

Hendrick is quite independent for a 16-month-old. For the most part, he can feed himself, calm himself to sleep and play happily with his toys while I tend to other things around the house.

I was always in such a rush to have the infancy stage over with so I could get a good night's sleep that when I looked at that baby girl, I realized I got exactly what I wanted. The time went by in a flash. Never to be recaptured.

Now I'm beginning to understand why so many mothers cry when they send their kids off to kindergarten, why they tear up at graduations and weddings. Is part of the reason for those tears a lament for all the things they wished they had done during those tender years?

There are some gifts in life that are only meant to be ours for a short time. We can wish away quickly for convenience sake, or we can cherish them for the (albeit arduous) blessings that they are.

Last night I did something I seldom did while Hendrick was an infant: I rocked him to sleep, hugging him tightly and kissing his little blond head until he was ready to go back into his crib.

I can't undo anything in the past or erase any of my first-time parenting shortfalls, but I can remember to make the most of this stage in his life.

And as my friend in playgroup reminded me this afternoon after I huffed about how difficult it is to run after Hendrick and make sure he doesn't break anything in her well-kept home, he'll be out of this stage, too, before I know it.

My heart sank again. And I once again had to remind myself to appreciate this moment before it goes away.

The Perils of Praise

Well, even after a good night's sleep I'm still sick. But before I take advantage of my son's nap time to take a much-needed nap myself I want to share with my readers a New York magazine article that contains, I think, the most profound social research on childrearing that I've seen in a very long time.

The article, "How Not to Talk to Your Kids: The Inverse Power of Praise," discusses findings that suggest it may be detrimental to your children to constantly tell them how smart they are.

I have longed despised our society's overabundance of undue praise on mediocre acts. And I always swore my boy Hendrick would never accept a soccer trophy for being part of a losing team. Does everyone really need to go home with a prize to feel good about themselves? There are such things as winners and losers in this world, and the sooner he finds out the better. (He'll certainly figure it out when he enters the job market.)

Moreover, this research, I pray, will help bring back into fashion the old world philosophy of telling children that hard work reaps rewards. Those who play it safe because they are afraid of failure never really reach their full potential.

Telling children to work at something is telling them that there's a goal out there worth attaining and it may not come easy. Even if they're smart.

Please read this, and I would love to know what you think.
http://nymag.com/news/features/27840/index.html

Sleep Study

A new survey found that most women don't get enough sleep. As if we needed a bunch of market researchers to tell us that...

But since the National Sleep Foundation took the time to poll so many women, I thought it was worth reading about their findings. I'm sure when you read the quotes in the story I selected for my readers you'll wonder if the center had interviewed you, but you were so run down at the time you just forgot.

I, personally, agree that most women - particularly mothers - don't get enough sleep, and we make too many excuses for not taking care of ourselves. For once, I'm going to take that advice and hit the sheets early.

I've had a long day, you see. My nose is running and my head is stuffed up. I can barely keep my head from hitting the keyboard.

The bills can wait. The dirty dishes piled in the sink can wait. I need my sleep.

Here's the link to the CBS News item on this story:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/03/06/earlyshow/health/main2538695.shtml

News of the Day

I combed the Internet today looking for articles that would be interesting to mothers of babies and toddlers as well as future moms. Here are the two most interesting ones I found.

An Australian newspaper reported on a study that found women who conceived through IVF were less confident in their parenting skills and thought that they couldn't complain about the simple things moms complain about because they should be so grateful they finally got their bundle of joy.

That's a lot of pressure to put on yourselves, ladies. We all need to blow off steam. But I understand how you feel. After I adopted my son, I grumbled about the lack of sleep, the messy house and my inability to get anything done. I mourned the loss of my career.

One of my relatives told me to stop complaining. "You wanted this," she snapped.

I did want this, and I did have to go through great pains to start a family. But just because it didn't come naturally for us doesn't mean we don't experience the same ups and downs that other mothers experience.

Let's cut ourselves some slack here. Haven't we gone through enough? Does it really matter how your baby wound up in your arms? He's here and he's just like all the other babies, and now you're a mom just like all the other moms - thankful and stressed out and trying to make it through the day.

Here's the link: http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/bursting-a-bubble/2007/03/05/1172943358231.html

In other news, the Boston Globe ran a story on a study that sheds some hope that there may be a way to offset the effects of fetal alcohol syndrome by giving babies supplements of choline, a nutrient found naturally in such foods as eggs and liver.

Here’s the link to that story:
http://www.boston.com/news/globe/health_science/articles/2007/03/05/can_babies_be_protected_from_alcoholic_moms/

By the way, there are plenty of great resources out there for moms with questions. I get monthly updates e-mailed to me from Pampers.com. I find their tips to be helpful, or at least they get me thinking about some of the things I didn't know I should be thinking about, such as how much food my son should be eating at this stage and what skills he should have mastered already.

HuggiesBabyNetwork.com, Enfamil.com and Similac.com also are good sites - and if you register on their sites they occasionally send you coupons.

A new name

The other day when I was in my son's music class one of the mothers told her daughter to pass the ball to "Hendrick's Mom'' as we waited for class to begin. Then she sighed and looked up. At what point, she pondered out loud, did we lose our names?

What an excellent question, I thought to myself.

I couldn't think of anything else while we sang "Little Red Caboose'' and other silly selections for the next 45 minutes. I guess I found it amusing at first when strangers in stores referred to me as ""mom.'' They had no reason to know my name. But it did start getting a little weird when doctors and teachers and other professionals used that moniker. I'm still me, aren't I?

I guess I should be used to it. Growing up I was "Lucille's daughter'' and "Joey's girlfriend,'' then I became "John's wife'' and now "Hendrick's mom.''

Maybe that's one of the reasons I liked being a reporter and seeing my name -- without the qualifiers -- on the front page of the newspaper. At work, I'm just me. Nina Rizzo. Nobody's nothing.

I'm sure people don't mean to dismiss our individuality, our sense of self. But perhaps we should take a moment to learn someone else's name.

Perhaps I should take my own advice.

I never did ask Marissa's mother what her name is.

Climbing to a new level of panic

I can sympathize with the two mothers who posted on our Jersey Shore Moms Web site about having little climbers. (See "Any Moms with Climbers?" on our Get Connected page.)

For me, the climbing started about two months ago when Hendrick was 14 months old. I don't recall exactly what prompted me to take my eyes away from him for a few minutes but the next thing I knew he was standing in the middle of the dining room table, squealing with glee and pumping his little fists.

"Hendrick," I gasped. "How did you get up there?"

When did he learn to climb, I asked myself. At first I was impressed with his accomplishment, despite the obvious danger. So I gently snatch him off the table and told him not to do that again.

Did I really think he was going to listen???

For weeks, every time I turned my back he was scaling the dining room chairs to reach his summit. (It was as if my little James Cagney was saying, "Top of the world, Ma!" as he laughed defiantly in my face.)

I started to take a much more serious tone with my adventurous boy when I found half of his little body hanging off the corner of the table, his stocking feet dangling in the air. He had managed to climb on the table and scoot over a few inches, away from the chair, his safety net.

Every time he climbed that after, he got a stern warning. "No climb," I'd say with a frown and shake my head from side to side, just like my pediatrician instructed me to do. If he continued he would immediately be sent to the playpen, which I keep in my bedroom. Then I'd shut the door.

Oh, he'd wail and scream for a while, I'd let him out and he'd do it again. But I kept consistent, something my experienced mommy friends said I'd have to do if I was doing to break him from this dangerous behavior.

My friend Irene, who has two sons, says a mother's will power has to be stronger than her child's. That's hard to do most days, considering all the energy and determination and focus my boy has. But she's right. How else can I convince my son that I'm the one in charge around here?

Now, when Hendrick begins to climb on a chair I use my stern voice to remind him that a punishment awaits a rulebreaker. I guess he really doesn't like that playpen because he'll look at me for a moment, clutching the edge of the table, and then change course. "OK, I'll sit," he seems to say.

That's a compromise I can live with.

If anyone has any other advice, please comment. JERZMOM is listening... :)