Share a room with your baby

One day in January, I was driving home from my parents’ house in that contented state of piloting a familiar route with light traffic. But a billboard on Oklahoma Avenue near the U.S. Post Office jolted me into annoyance.

The image replaced the headboard on an adult bed with a tombstone inscribed “FOR TOO MANY BABIES LAST YEAR, THIS WAS THEIR FINAL RESTING PLACE.” Below that was the statement, “The safest place is in a crib. City of Milwaukee Health Department milwaukee.gov/safesleep.” The image remains available at that website, but the Oklahoma Avenue billboard is no longer on display.

This dramatic billboard was part of the Milwaukee Health Department’s campaign launched Dec. 28, 2009 to minimize infant deaths. I imagine that many parents and parents-to-be, plus the family members and friends advising them, saw the billboard and formed opinions about how babies should sleep. Of course, these groups are very concerned about preventing sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). Every reasonable parent thinks about it during the early months of parenthood.

The city’s dramatic, straightforward message drew criticism from James McKenna of the Mother-Child Behavioral Sleep Laboratory at the University of Notre Dame and everyday parents. Lots of parents called during the topic’s discussion on the Joy Cardin radio show Jan. 26 on WPR. Some parents felt this campaign makes women feel worse about themselves, and incites guilt about a natural decision.

Among my circle of friends, I know several who have regularly shared their adult bed with a newborn. I’d say it’s so common as to be rampant. Some chose this path and others fell into it as a response to their child’s late-night waking.

While my husband and I didn’t share our bed with our newborn (known as bed-sharing), we did keep her bassinet in the room with us (known as room-sharing) for the first few weeks. I can understand the line of thinking that both bed-sharing and room-sharing are natural decisions. “Natural” in the sense of how families must have slept for thousands of years. “Natural” in the sense of how parents who research holistic topics often choose to keep their babies close, and purchase equipment to help make it safe. “Natural” in the sense of exhausted parents needing their own sleep and taking what seems to be the path of least resistance. (I remember falling asleep in a glider chair, our typical breastfeeding spot, when an illuminated billboard pasted on the nursery wall couldn’t have fended off my exhaustion.)

I was prepared to rail against the city’s campaign until I reviewed all the materials in preparation for this column. To my surprise, I found a second layer of the city’s message to be on target in its support of room-sharing. While the health department is shouting “No bed sharing!” with the billboards, it is whispering “Room sharing is good” in some circumstances. There’s no mention of room-sharing in a recent Milwaukee Courier article by Anna C. Benton, director of Family and Community Health Services for the Milwaukee Health Department, but she advocates the practice in a Journal Sentinel article.

Scroll down the milwaukee.gov/safesleep site and you’re advised to “Provide a separate but nearby sleeping environment, meaning: babies should share a room with their parents, but not a bed. The risk of SIDS is reduced when the infant sleeps in the same room as the mother.” I think that many people who saw only the billboard and not the website never heard this important aspect about reducing SIDS.

The health department should better promote this pro-room-sharing detail, and information about ways to safely share a bedroom. For years, it’s been a part of nationwide SIDS reduction efforts like the Back to Sleep campaign.

Unfortunately, the point probably won’t become a dramatic billboard, and many parents will never hear the message. Lots of them will keep bringing their infants into adult beds without information about how to make it safer.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com

The Cribs for Kids program provides Milwaukee families with portable cribs to help reduce deaths due to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) and unsafe sleep. Community professionals, such as a case worker or nurse, may refer families to the Milwaukee Cribs for Kids program by calling (414) 286-8620.

Less buying, more being

On these cold days, my mind wanders back to warm-weather outings to the lakefront. Last summer, my daughter and I regularly met friends at a local beach. I’m truly longing to recreate those hours we spent hanging out in the sun.

An empty beach is an easy, enjoyable outing. It’s easy to stay right there, in the moment, rather than allow my mind to swirl through the continual “to-do list.” Spotty cell phone coverage helps me stay focused on my daughter and our shared experience.

Another reason the beach is so fun is that we can get there by riding a bike or walking. Reasonably good beaches are accessible to Bay View homes by taking a significant stroll south from the pavilion at South Shore Park. (For drivers, it’s easy to park near the St. Francis border and walk down the pedestrian path.) To me, avoiding the car makes it more of an adventure.

Other summer memories are surfacing, too: viewing the Great Circus Parade, lingering over pancakes at a friend’s house, and watching my daughter laugh at ducks turning upside down in the water. None of these cost more than $5, and it seems that there’s a trend toward appreciating these things which don’t have SKU numbers and can’t be found on craigslist.

More Americans are focusing on experiences rather than purchases, according to a New York Times/CBS News poll. While the economic downturn caused some people to work more, a larger proportion are spending more time with family and friends, gardening, cooking, reading, watching television, and enjoying other hobbies. I think it’s awesome. While I would rather see television viewership decrease, I think almost any activity that replaces buying is helpful for our children.

A recent Department of Labor survey demonstrates that we’re gradually replacing time spent buying with time spent on other enjoyable activities. The average amount of time spent each weekday purchasing goods and services was 46 minutes in 2003 and ebbed to 43 minutes in 2008. Weekend shopping followed a similar pattern, going from 57 minutes to 55 minutes. Hopefully, more recent data from this American Time Use Survey will reflect a continued decrease.

The national trend blends nicely with Milwaukee’s long-held tradition of frugality described by Joanne Cleaver in Milwaukee magazine. Frugality is a trait Milwaukeeans would do well to perpetuate and pass down to our children. By frugality, I don’t mean fixating on how to obtain the best price on a sweater. Instead, I endorse trying to buy fewer sweaters and spending more time wearing our sweaters during meaningful experiences.

Those experiences might take place in our own kitchens, where we use an afternoon to bake something together. Or they might be as close as a few blocks away, where we visit the library together.

Spending less time buying nonessentials and even going so far as to redefine “nonessential” are wonderful.

This seems to be the right path for all Americans, especially parents. We benefit ourselves and our environment when we spend less time buying and more time being. It makes sense to me that experiences are more enjoyable for kids than goods-after all, most toddlers get cranky in stores, but it’s hard to find one who doesn’t like the park.

It’s February and we can’t really enjoy the beach. But sledding, playing with puppets in the library, and a host of other low-cost choices await. Let’s save our cash and create golden memories.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com. For archived American Time Use Surveys, see bls.gov/tus.

Baby’s firsts, Bay View style

Recording children’s “firsts” is a popular parental hobby. We’re encouraged by sentimental baby books that have pages for tracking the first smile, first steps, first zoo trip, and more. The list in my daughter’s baby book seems too generic.

Rather than the firsts that apply to any child across the country, I’m more interested in Bay View-specific firsts. They emphasize that Bay View is such a great place to raise a child. So here are some Baby View Firsts that I’m proud to mark, even though they aren’t in my daughter’s baby book.

First time accompanying parents out of the house, probably to a coffee shop like Anodyne or Sven’s. After long days and nights with a newborn daughter her first few months, sipping a steamed milk at Anodyne made me feel a little less like a zombie.

Chomping on a slice of local, non-franchise pizza. Depending on the parents’ style, kids enjoy a piece of pie from standby restaurants like De Marinis and Pietro’s or newcomers like Classic Slice or Transfer.  »Read more

Virus infects daily life

There are some phrases I never want to hear come through my cell phone. “You’ve got to take her to the emergency room” is high on the list. But that’s what I heard one recent night as I stood in our living room. Nearby were my husband and very hot daughter. My toddler’s body had heated to 105.7.

She was wearing only a shirt and diaper. The nurse on the phone instructed my husband to take off her T-shirt to help her cool down. I grabbed the diaper bag, a banana, and books before we got into the car for a tense drive to the emergency room.

On the way, dramatically heavy rain and lightning seemed as though directed by Shakespeare. I was too consumed by fear to say more than “I’m scared.” Our daughter’s backseat banter reflected a normal mood, which was some reassurance.

We checked in behind a boy who bumped his head and I showed our insurance card and provided a credit card for the $100 payment. Then we got the scary instruction: “Let us know right away if she starts convulsing.”

The waiting room was surprisingly full and included some adults in medical masks. The masks added to the eeriness, as did public address announcements about the severe weather.

The triage nurse summoned us and we talked through our daughter’s symptoms. Then we settled in for more waiting and fretting.

My mind wandered back over the past few days, looking for a culprit who passed their illness to our daughter. (Was it that sip of shared apple juice at Elegant Farmer?) I also thought about whom our daughter might have contaminated. These were new ways to evaluate our friends and family.

Despite being feverish, our daughter was playful and interested in the hospital’s toys. Germ concerns made us reluctant to let her touch them. After an hour, fatigue caused us to give in and I made a mental note to “sanitize” her afterward.

She remained happy and her fever ebbed toward a more reasonable temperature. Eventually it was our turn to see another nurse, then a doctor.

The doctor explained that she was suffering from a virus, possibly H1N1. We had already concluded the same thing. Our instructions were to offer plenty of fluids and administer over-the-counter fever reducers. That made sense but it felt unsettling to head home without a more tangible diagnosis.

The following days brought ups and downs but our daughter returned to normal health while my husband and I both got fevers and fatigue. It took over a month, but we all eventually emerged with our usual energy levels. The most lasting effect was my attitude toward germs.

I’m more cautious now about transmitting germs in both directions: to me and from me. I don’t use my own teaspoon to stir our daughter’s food because I might be carrying something contagious. The virus has annoyingly pervaded the most heartwarming traditions. Kisses between family members and blowing out birthday candles are tinged with unease. Even if I don’t feel sick, I know I could be harboring an illness and passing it along.

At checkout lanes, the credit card stylus gives me the creeps. I envision a previous customer covering their cough with a hand, then transferring the germs via the stylus.

I recognize that some of my germ avoidance tactics aren’t totally logical, and that recognition makes me sympathetic to other people’s illogical reactions. My grandparents must have dealt with similar-probably more intense-wariness during the worst U.S. polio outbreak. Decades later, my mom remembers avoiding the public pool as a precaution.

As 2009 ebbs away, my friends and I will keep buzzing about whether we’ve gotten our kids vaccinated and who is ill. We’ll compare notes on whether we are still going to playgroups or sticking closer to home. I imagine the virus will keep infecting our thoughts in the new year.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

Attention readers: We are seeking Bay View’s Baby New Year. I’d like to recognize the first baby born or adopted in Bay View in 2010. If a new little life enters your home in early 2010, please send the announcement to me at the email above or via postal mail to the Compass.

Holiday sanity, relatively speaking

Doors across Bay View will soon swing open to welcome relatives. One step inside the threshold, they will gather youngsters in their arms for a welcoming snuggle. The children will inevitably be described as “getting so big.” To me, it’s heartwarming to think that this small routine has probably happened in our very home many times in the lives of previous owners during the last 95 years.

Friends and families will settle in with one another for a few hours to a few days. During that time, guests are likely to notice parents’ habits and some of those habits might be perplexing. Guests without children are most likely to privately wonder, “Why do they do that?” I have been a mom for two years, but can conjure up the mindset of my pre-parent days. In the spirit of interpersonal understanding and pleasant holidays, I’m examining a short list of weird habits of parents of young kids.  »Read more

Child care costs are high

Debate is whirling about the cost of medical insurance, but I’m not paying attention. Instead, I’m distracted by the expense of child care. After staying home with our daughter for almost two years, I got a job offer and launched a quick search for a child care arrangement. I had to find a safe, stimulating environment for our toddler before I could settle in at my 20-hour-per-week job at a downtown office.

My quest began with a networking contact: I remembered a man from my church mentioning that his daughter was opening a small day care just off Kinnickinnic Avenue. I emailed him and for once, I was lucky. A set of parents had just canceled their reservation and my fellow churchgoer’s daughter had an opening.

My husband and I left some voicemail messages while we pursued comparisons, including a listing from the classified section of this paper.

I did find a great situation but paying for it significantly reduces my net pay. Locally, the fee for a part-time day care slot is about $50 per day. The cost doesn’t seem too painful until the totals start rolling in. Annually, my husband and I expect to spend over $5,000 for part-time child care. That’s about normal because the Children’s Defense Fund reports that the average cost in Wisconsin for a 4-year-old in full-time child care is over $10,500.

These fees seem high, and it’s not just my imagination. Child care costs here are trending high.

Child care costs are most reasonably considered relative to wages because the service is necessary when parents are employed. Wisconsin ranks ninth highest in the nation for the price of infant child care relative to wages-with child care costs consuming 13.5 percent of the median two-parent family income or 44.2 percent of median single-parent family income. That’s according to the National Association of Child Care Resource and Referral Agencies in their 2009 report.

The association also points out that child care costs are exceeding the rate of inflation. It doesn’t look good for the upcoming years because the current baby boom should keep both demand and prices high. We might expect the same locally as Bay View seems bursting with babies.

Getting a Slot

Perhaps I should feel privileged to pay a child care bill because it means we obtained a slot. Most child care centers have waiting lists; shockingly, some are years long. Local lore includes parents who registered newborns that got off the waiting list as toddlers. When I was pregnant, I had assumed the child care crunch was a problem in larger cities like New York. It turns out the child care crunch is alive and real in Bay View. Searching for child care sometimes reminds me of our home renovation days. Then, my husband or I would leave voicemail for a drywaller or electrician and get no response. Some child care centers are so busy that weeks go by before they can return a call. Then, the caller can only offer a tour and wait-list slot.

I’ve taken to telling pregnant friends that they need to get on a list-or maybe two because a backup always helps-if they plan to use a child care center.

I’m tempted to go for a poetic finish which describes the true costs of part-time work: the traumatized child or the distraught mom consumed by her child’s well-being. But that isn’t my reality. Our situation is going well and the real expense is “just” money. We should keep that in mind as we write the weekly child care check.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

Remembering cooking from scratch

Both of my grandmothers bequeathed fascinating cookbooks to me. It’s comforting to know their hands turned the pages that now carry the musty tinge of decades-old paper. One of them is a gathering of recipes from fellow churchgoers including little rhymes and sketches to fill blank areas. It invokes what might seem a less harried life, but the reality is that Grandma found time to cook quantities sufficient to sustain a farm family and managed lots of other chores. When I feel worn out by another round of dishes, it’s humbling to remember she managed without a dishwasher or other modern timesavers.  »Read more

Modern families defy assumptions

Diversity did not exist in my 1970s and 1980s upbringing in New Berlin-no divorced parents, no unwed mothers, no ethnic or religious diversity. I appreciate Bay View’s variety of families, which has been apparent to me as I interview people for articles in this paper. I’ve talked with two men who together adopted a son, a stay-at-home dad with six kids, and a grandparent with custody of her granddaughter. They all live in Bay View and seem to be very comfortable here, and I’m glad we live in an accepting area. In contrast, I used to hear tales from an acquaintance about feeling out-of-place as a single mom in Whitefish Bay.

Unmarried mothers are very common throughout the country, where they deliver four in 10 babies. (The figure is from 2007, the most recent year for which data are available from the National Center for Health Statistics.) The number of unmarried mothers is 26 percent higher than in 2002.

It’s astounding that almost half of American children born in 2007 arrived outside the paradigm of married parents. This sea change causes a variety of accommodations for people dealing with families. For example, it’s no longer a valid assumption that a child lives with both parents. We cannot presume that a mother’s husband (or boyfriend) is her baby’s father. In recognition of the range of living situations, the Bay View Community Center’s Youth Registration Form has a section for the child’s name and address, and a second area for the parent/guardian’s name and address. Tweaks to forms are a tangible example of the growing societal acceptance of single parents and other family structures.  »Read more

Taming the technology monster

Even Sesame Street’s Elmo has a computer and reads email. On the show, he routinely accesses email from friends. I haven’t seen him use a cell phone yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me to see the furry red monster clutch one at his ear.

For most modern parents, technology constantly swirls around us. Even in the fresh air of South Shore Park or other natural settings, parents are on cell phones or behind cameras. It’s convenient and I have certainly used the chance when my daughter is occupied on the swing to snap some photos, make a quick phone call, or tap out a text message. In fact, I have probably done all three in rapid succession on my iPhone.

My phone, with features like email capability and internet access, plus our laptop, helped me keep in touch with friends, family, and former coworkers when our daughter was a newborn. While I nursed in the early morning, I read jsonline.com’s NewsWatch on my phone. I was accustomed to knowing the day’s headlines and didn’t want to miss out on reading the freshest news. It helped me feel more normal in conversations and minimized the feeling of being cloistered in the winter with an infant.

Before the baby arrived, my commute via bus to a downtown office provided several small conversations before 8:30am. My job involved lots of phone calls, meetings, and email interaction. Home with a newborn, I was thrown into a more solitary routine but technology allowed some conversational substitutes. One particularly lonely period was around 5am when it sometimes felt like only radio announcers were awake. (My husband was home but catching sleep before going to work.) I would wake to nurse the baby and she’d fall back to sleep, but I couldn’t follow her example. I would send email at this early hour, and people would reply when their days got humming. Email eliminated the need for mutual availability but kept us in touch. It also helped family and friends on the East Coast quickly see pictures of our growing baby.

Now that our daughter is 18 months old, my attitude toward technology is more ambivalent. I have become accustomed to the new daily rhythm as a full-time mom and part-time writer. I am more comfortable saying “no” when friends ask, “Did you see my email?” or “Did you see my Facebook update?” The news headlines seem less important to me so I don’t check every day. Instead, I skim newspapers at the gym, snatch glances online, or hear news summaries on public radio. Occasionally everyone else seems to know something like the announcement of a Supreme Court justice’s impending retirement but my chagrin is minimal.

Despite reduced interest, I still feel the allure of technology. It still nags for my attention. For example, it’s so tempting to check email while our daughter has a snack. I try not to eat the snack myself, to avoid the calories, and yet sitting at the table with her gets dull. She cannot converse much and I have already taught her the names of all objects within pointing range like table, chair, highchair, wall. My phone is usually nearby and its email feature makes messages tantalizingly easy to access.

Incessant camera use-for photos and video-is also tempting. People ask for photos and we want to send and show the very best.

I never got into reading blogs continually or playing games like Second Life, but I have heard about parents who regret being drawn into them. Their testimonials describe obsessive online habits that caused them to miss sleep and put less energy into their families. In extreme cases, they turned to drugs to stay awake to spend more time online and some sought treatment for internet addiction. The online world offered them an alternate identity separate from their children, a world that felt more comfortable and less overwhelming.

Parents and other caretakers need to be concerned about the amount of time spent staring at television monitors, laptop screens, cell phone interfaces, camera viewfinders, and whatever cool device will come next; and we need to be sure we are spending time in the moment. Watching a child grow reinforces that time’s river of days never stops flowing around us. The glow from a kid’s smile surely trumps the glow of a phone.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com. Maher will resume her column in August after a summer break.

Parenting isn’t what it used to be

Our Wentworth Avenue neighbors have three generations in one house-middle-age parents, 20-something daughter, and her newborn-plus an elder next door. The baby girl gets to establish solid relationships with her mother, grandparents, and great-grandmother. I wish I could say that her mother gets to inherit all the wisdom from the two older generations; unfortunately, that’s not realistic.

American society’s view of the right way to raise a child has changed dramatically in recent decades, just a minute speck in the timeline of humanity.

For our family, the difference between my upbringing and our daughter’s begins even before birth. I followed American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists’ rules to avoid drinking alcohol while trying to conceive a child. In contrast, women my mother’s age (and women for thousands of years since the introduction of alcohol) consumed alcohol through pregnancy. Smoking was not unusual for American mothers-to-be of the 1970s, but is advised against now.

Today’s parents get plenty of guidelines: recommendations by the American Academy of Pediatrics, books elucidating theories of child rearing like how to get a child to sleep through the night, email lists explaining the nitty gritty like brushing toddler teeth, and magazines highlighting baby and kid gear. The research can get out of hand: My friend recalls reading about 40 parenting books. Instead of sorting through these sources, I would like to rely on advice from my parents and in-laws. My husband and I would be content to parent just like them, and so would other couples across Bay View.

But we can’t totally follow their example. My mom encapsulated the situation when she told my grandmother, “All the rules have changed. Nothing is the same as when we parented.”

Sleep is a good example because it is one of the most noticeable ways that raising a child has changed despite slumber being such a basic human function. First of all, laying newborns on their back to sleep is a very common recommendation printed on baby materials and reiterated in the birthing hospital and countless other places. The American Academy of Pediatrics’ Healthy Child Care American Back to Sleep Campaign helps spread the message to reduce the likelihood of sudden infant death syndrome. Today’s parents literally feel they could be endangering their infant baby’s life by placing her to sleep on her stomach, but my parents regularly did just that with me. A leading parenting guidebook, Dr. Benjamin Spock’s Baby and Child Care, advised them.

Furthermore, modern rules warn against a blanket in a newborn’s crib due to suffocation hazards. A cute fluffy quilt handed down from my earliest days takes on a dangerous sheen when viewed in the light of these recommendations. My heart advises me to go ahead and use it, but my head warns against suffocation.

It is frustrating for my generation that we cannot rely on our families’ accumulated wisdom concerning things like our baby’s sleep. In fact, aggravation only begins with sleep and extends to car seats (state law today but not widely used in my upbringing), diapers (cloth versus disposable was not really a choice for my parents), spanking (considered cruel today but commonplace in the 1970s), and a plethora of other topics.

The ability of pediatric researchers to amass data on things like causes of infant death and the efficacy of disciplinary timeouts has allowed them to form opinions and issue recommendations. Modern parents are compelled to stay abreast. Whereas Dr. Spock’s single reference book once encapsulated the essential knowledge, the current electronic resources are limitless. The implication is that essential parental knowledge is not finite or fixed. It leaves me wondering whether we’ll be able to advise our daughter, or whether the rules will have changed again.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions via e-mail at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

Learning to eat out as a threesome

I didn’t realize how easy it was to eat out as a dink-Dual Income No Kids. Before having a child, I thought mostly about a restaurant’s menu and atmosphere. I hardly even noticed whether they had highchairs or not. I rarely dined out with friends’ kids, and there are no other children in my family so it was never a concern.

Now that we have a child, I am happy to see so many Bay View eateries have highchairs. In fact, I have not found a restaurant that does not provide at least one.

The alternative to a highchair is holding my daughter in my lap and I have been in this predicament twice. Hopefully we won’t repeat it because her reach is ever-expanding and she can quickly tip over plates or cups.

I applaud the following local restaurants, favorites of mine which all have highchairs and kid-friendly staff:

Carleton Grange. Beyond Bay View’s borders but notable as one of the few local establishments with both a kid’s menu and easy parking. A walkable destination when timed to coincide with naptime in the stroller.

Cafe LuLu. This local standard handles kids fairly well. When I was a brand-new mom, a friendly server showed me how to upend a highchair to secure a baby carrier at table height.

Soup Otzie’s. Combines well with a lunchtime trip to the nearby library for some puppet play.

Transfer. Big windows provide good views of buses to point out to kids, plus the pizza menu is likely to please most children. About once a month, I take my daughter on Mondays for the weekday lunch special.

Wild Flour. Even a new walker can toddle the short distance from the nearby parking lot into a relaxed atmosphere with counter service instead of servers.

Changing Tables

Pre-kid, I never kept track of the plastic flip-down changing tables in restaurant restrooms, either. As a new mom, I started appreciating them but occasionally missed one because I didn’t realize they were sometimes located in the bathroom stall for disabled people. This left me kneeling on the floor over my baby or outside at the car, hunched over her in the back seat. The floor is uncomfortable and isn’t sanitary, and extra car trips aren’t fun, especially in cold, snow, or rain.

I like knowing that a changing table is available for my use, but also for other families. It limits the “ick” factor of thinking that other people are changing messy babies on floors or countertops. The sloppiest diaper change shouldn’t happen on the same countertop where I lay my purse or rest my box of leftovers.

I keep a mental tally of which local venues provide changing tables and often veto outings to those which do not. During my 16 months of motherhood, I have checked out 25 restaurants in Bay View and just beyond the borders. In preparation for this column, I transferred my mental tally to a notebook, skipping the area’s fast food joints but including a few coffee shops that serve food.

I tallied my list and the results surprised me. I knew there seemed to be limited choices, but seeing the actual figures was still a surprise: Only five of the 25 restaurants, or 20 percent, have a diaper changing table.

Kudos to these five:

Anodyne. Known for coffee but serves bagels, granola parfait, and soup. Signals extra kid-friendliness by regularly hosting the popular group Fox & Branch, providing a kid-size table and chairs, and having toys.

Applebee’s. Violates my family’s tendency to avoid chain restaurants, but staff welcome children with a balloon and bring food quickly. Children’s menu and special pricing on certain days. Changing table in the men’s bathroom, not just women’s.

Bella’s Fat Cat. A friendly neighborhood standard where I appreciate the 100-percent juice boxes.

Outpost Fork in the Road Café. Healthy food from breakfast to dinner. When the weather cooperates, it’s great to roll a stroller in because there are no steps. The site of my first “mommy and me” meal out with my daughter.

Sheridan’s. The entrees are more expensive than the other four establishments, so we reserve it for a nicer meal.

Recently, another restaurant owner told me he plans to add changing tables as his profitability rises, and I hope more owners do the same. There are lots of little eaters in Bay View. As the neighborhood continues to welcome more of them, I hope more restaurants provide a changing table. In fact, I hope they install two: the standard for mothers plus one for fathers.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

Recalling concerns over safe food, products

As a child, I always associated peanut butter with jelly. I learned as an adult to think “potential allergy.” After last month’s peanut butter recall, “salmonella” comes to mind.

Food like peanut butter that once seemed innocuous is now a concern to many parents. We have to worry because mass-market food is so frequently mislabeled or tainted. Children’s weakened immune systems make them more susceptible to outbreaks like the salmonella found in peanut butter earlier this year and in spinach in 2007.

These food fouls were trumpeted throughout the media, but other food recalls are mere whispers. Chicago Tribune staff investigated recalled foods and learned that many recalls are surprisingly quiet. They found that in the last 10 years, 47 percent of foods recalled for hidden allergens were not publicly announced. Even alert parents who are watching for recalls cannot trust their food. Ridiculous!

My daughter has no allergies but I feel sorry for kids who do. Many of them have parents who are busy working or might not speak English well or don’t have regular internet access. How are they supposed to monitor product safety?

And we parents are also learning to be cautious about what we serve our children’s food on. We see plastic in a new light after studies show how phthalates (THAL-ates), added to some plastics to soften them or make them more flexible, are pervasive in children’s products.

Phthalates are dangerous because they have been shown to migrate from plasticized substances to foods and enter the human body. They’ve been banned in Europe because of links to reproductive damage and increased risk of asthma and cancer. Virtually every American body over age 6 has measurable levels of phthalate metabolites. In the United States, six phthalates are banned in levels above .1 percent from children’s products by the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act of 2008, which took effect last month.

But the law wasn’t enough to convince manufacturers-or regulators-to remove these products from the shelves. The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, responsible for enforcing this law, had argued companies could keep selling products with the prohibited phthalates if they had been manufactured prior to the date the law took effect. The National Resource Defense Council and Public Citizen had to sue government regulators to make the law apply to existing inventories. This really irks me and I am glad the CPSC lost its recent federal court case in New York.

With all this in mind, I decided to buy bowls for our toddler that are free of phthalates and all plastic. Also, I wanted bowls not made in China. I am wary of Chinese manufacturing after problems like the lead toy recalls of August 2007 and the September 2008 recall of intentionally tainted baby formula. Lastly, I needed “unbreakable” bowls because everything toddler-related occasionally lands on the floor.

I talked with a few parents in the Holistic Moms Network, a group into natural solutions, and poked around on blogs like Life Less Plastic. Then I checked out all the usual stores. Everything was plastic except a few choices like imported stainless steel bowls. I wasn’t finding what I wanted but kept hunting. I looked at fair trade stores in Bay View and Cedarburg in hopes of discovering bowls designed for adults that would be small enough for our toddler. Bamboo bowls seemed promising until I learned most bamboo is imported and is easily stained by colorful foods. The quest became frustrating.

Then I found some bowls when I wasn’t looking for them. My husband and I were on an overnight trip in the western part of the state and we shopped at Amish stores. One store abounded in small, wooden bowls made in Wisconsin from local hardwood. I don’t love the multicolored style but by then was way beyond being picky about appearance. We bought several: one small, three medium, and one large.

Now I’m searching for safer pots and pans and trying not to worry.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

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