Daycare Decisions for the Little One

The little man smiled for the first time today.
Today I took the day off from work so we could check out a few daycare facilities.

While I have little doubt that my wife would love to be a stay-at-home mom indefinitely, it probably wouldn’t be in the family’s best interest for a host of reasons…

You know, health insurance, schedule flexibilty, and job security being the three biggies that come to mind first…

We’ll play it by ear but, for now, the plan is to drop the little guy off at daycare each morning once the maternity leave ends in another 6 weeks.

Not really knowing what to expect on a daycare tour — I was envisioning a “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” type of set-up aimed at little kids — we pretty much walked in blindly.

Sure, we checked out a bunch of websites for the daycare providers in our area but, like so many other things, they never list a price.

Now I’m not saying that the pricetag attached to the care is all that matters, I just don’t want to be caught off guard when the price drops — like I have been for a few of our home improvement projects.

Not really knowing what to expect, the first place we went was right upfront — care for the little guys (6 weeks to 3 years old) for all five weekdays runs $231 per week.

Not that we were taken aback by the number, they further justified it by saying that that’s only $4.86/hour.

Sounds like a deal, though we don’t intend to have him there as many hours as it would take to get the hourly rate down that low — they just took the $231 and divided it by the number of hours that they’re open during the week.

It was a nice modern looking place — everything was new and it showed. Nice and bright, well-staffed, and equipped with a security system that rivals the vault at any downtown bank. I’d say that we were impressed. Presentation-wise, from the glossy handouts that they gave us to the person that walked us around, this place was going to be tough to beat.

The next place we visited is a little off the beaten path. It’s a place that I know a few people from work have used and, six months ago, if you’d asked me to name a daycare place in town, well, this would’ve been the only one I could name off the cuff.

When we walked in, well, it just had that nursery school feel, you know, there was a hint of “controlled” chaos in the air even though we weren’t anywhere near any of the children yet.

The director gave us the pitch and then we ventured behind the big wooden door for the tour portion of the presentation.

Wow. It brought back memories of my own nursery school days…

Little cubbies with name tags for all of the kids to put their stuff.

Children just talking everywhere about, well, nothing at all. There was one kid, probably four years old, that just wanted to say “Hi” to us. Repeatedly.

While it was a little messy and cluttered, it seemed pretty structured and under control at the same time.

I couldn’t help but notice all of the Fisher-Price toys from the 1970′s all over the place — the kind that I’ve looked for but haven’t been able to find because they don’t appear to make them anymore.

Seemed like my kinda place, though, I suppose I should expect daycare to have modernized some since the 1970′s. I’m not saying that I’m against pretend plastic cell phones for kids…

(No wait… That’s exactly what I’m saying. Give me that plastic rotary phone any day of the week and don’t tell me that the coiled cord is a choking hazard…)

In short, it was cool to see the kids playing with the *exact* same toys that I played with.

One thing that was very different though were all of the hand sanitizer machines on the walls. I was a little turned off by the whole germ-o-phobe vibe. We even had to cover our shoes with little shower cap like things.

I understand it but I don’t agree with it. It’s almost as if one OCD parent changed the way things are done for everyone.

Somewhat related, While the director was telling us about the no-peanut policy in the building, I couldn’t help but think back to my own childhood.

I was one of those kids that was allergic to peanuts. I’m still one of those kids. But you know what? Just because I couldn’t eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich didn’t mean that no one in my entire school could eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That would’ve been ridiculous…

I dunno, it seemed a little overboard to be so heavy handed but maybe that’s just me?

I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t eat a peanut M&M. I like to think that kids today with the same death allergy are smart enough to know it too…

So, the comparable weekly rate for this second place is $225 per week. They didn’t bother to justify it, just threw it out there. They also told us that there wasn’t an opening for when we’d like to start but that they’d keep us posted.

So, at then end of the day, we were kinda torn.

I don’t want to bash one over the other so, for the record, both places had the no-peanut policy. Both were also crazy with the wall-mounted hand sanitizer machines. Both seemed to have a great staff working there. And both also seemed to be filled with kids that were respectful, happy, and having a good time.

I’d be comfortable leaving him at either place.

The costs, which will fit into our budget, are all but identical too — around $1000 per month — so it comes down to which place gave us the better vibe.

I won’t lie, I thought it was really cool to relive my own nursery school days at the second place. I’d like him to go there.

At the same time, it was old. It was a little run down. And it, I dunno, just didn’t seem with the times. (Obviously?!) Really, they don’t accept credit cards — they’re that old fashioned.

My wife prefers the nice, new, and modern place. For $6 more per week, it probably is the better choice.

Best of all, they have an opening for us too.

Posted on June 24th, 2009 at 8:59 pm by Brainy Smurf
Smurfling | 13 Comments »

Duncan, a Boppy, and an Alligator

Sorry…

I don’t want to turn this in to a “Mommy” blog and I’ve always kinda been turned off by people who go overboard with pictures of their kids (especially when they’re kinda goofy looking) but I just couldn’t resist…

The novelty will wear off soon, right?

Posted on June 3rd, 2009 at 2:10 pm by Brainy Smurf
Smurfling | 5 Comments »

Guest Post from Duncan Smurf

The Cookie Monster ate my baby...This the first guest post ever on PIAC — it’s not that I’m against doing them, I just wouldn’t know who to ask…

Now that I think about it, though, I think frequent commenters Dustin and Heather could definitely post some real valuable information!

Anyhow, let the guest post begin…

n cvbbbbcnjjjjjjjjjbyhb     vbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb            -0oom,km, kkkkkkkkkkkko nhbgt

- – - – - – - – - – -

PIAC Factoid: Duncan Smurf is only 5 days old. I’m not certain that that makes him the youngest blogger in the world but he can’t be far off.

Hopefully, in the days to come, he’ll have more to say.

And hopefully I’ll find the time to say more too!

Posted on May 30th, 2009 at 9:13 pm by Brainy Smurf
Blogging?, Life, Smurfling | 14 Comments »

Is Overdue the Correct Term?

Smurfling is overdue.When I hear the word “overdue” the first thing that comes to mind is the library.

I’m almost ashamed to admit that I haven’t checked a book out from a library in well over a decade but as a result I’ve never had to worry about paying any fines for returning a book overdue.

Strangely, the term “overdue” does not come to mind when it comes to my bills.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never paid a bill that was “overdue”.

And maybe it’s because if I were in that unfortunate situation, I’d substitute the word “late” in instead.

Anyway, my wife was “due” yesterday.

Still, no baby.

Does that make her overdue?

I just hope there aren’t any fines levied as a result…

- – - – - – - – -

PIAC Flashback: The last book that I checked out of a library was from the second floor Chemistry Library in Gordon Hall at Queen’s University back in 1996.

I was working on a project regarding the idea that time would stop at absolute zero because the electrons of an atom would cease to move at that temperature.
Gordon Hall
That’s right.

I was working on a time machine.

Can’t say I didn’t tell you I that was Brainy…

Keyword being… was.

Posted on May 20th, 2009 at 7:44 pm by Brainy Smurf
Life, Smurfling | 5 Comments »

Photo of the Week: Ready and Waiting…

The Baby's Room
We’re on the verge of a single digit countdown now…

The smurfling could decide to arrive at any time and, let me tell you, we’re ready…

Well, I think we are…

(No credit given to that birthing class we took, though…)

But I must admit, I’m finding it almost unsettling to have a “due” date that isn’t really set in stone. It’s a blurry due date.

“Yeah, maybe this day, maybe that day. It’ll be in a two-week window or so…”

It’s foggy.

That doesn’t really work well with me.

My cable bill is due on the 14th. My electric bill is due on the 27th. A project at work is due by 8:00 am on Monday.

The baby? Well…

For now, though, we’re in a holding pattern of uncertainty…

Posted on May 9th, 2009 at 7:18 am by Brainy Smurf
Life, Photo, Smurfling | 11 Comments »

Banking on Cord Blood?

I *so* hope that he looks like this...As we’ve come to learn, when you’re having a baby, you seem to get a lot more junk mail than usual.

The number of individual diapers and/or canisters of Similac that have come in the mail over the past few months is just crazy…

Of late, as the big day grows closer, we’ve been receiving countless glossy inserts in the mail heralding cord blood.

More specifically, “banking” umbilical cord blood.

For those that don’t have a pregnancy in the family (or haven’t in the past decade), the idea is that blood collected from the umbilical cord shortly after birth can cure diseases that may come up in your child’s earlier years so, in marketing-speak, it’s in your best interest to “bank” it for the future.

A surprising number of companies, at least ten, offer this seemingly sci-fi service and they’re all vying for my business.

The pitch is always the same.

They use guilt to sell their product.

It’s pretty creepy actually…

The most recent, which arrived yesterday, is from a company called ViaCord.

The photo on the front is of a baby on the floor where an electrical outlet “should” be. In the picture, the outlet is about 6 feet up on the wall with the caption, “Protect baby. That’s what mommas do.”

One sec, I’ll scan it…

Cord Blood Ad Slick

Okay, fair enough.

It’s kind of creative, I’ll give them that, and certainly more appealing to the eye than, say, an umbilical cord oozing blood or something.

Inside the fold, they claim that saving your baby’s cord blood is something “you’ve just got to do.”

Bluntly, all of the advertisements sugarcoat the exact same message, “If you don’t do this, your baby will DIE!” followed by an evil laugh.

In their words, it protects your baby (and apparently other family members too) from “over 70 diseases like Leukemia.”

Forgive my ignorance but I had no idea that there were 70 diseases like Leukemia.

I’m pretty sure that’s not how they meant it to be interpreted. Or maybe that was their plan.

Maybe there actually are 70 diseases just like Leukemia? I just don’t know…

The text continues, “In addition, cord blood is emerging as a treatment option for Type I Diabetes and Cerebral Palsy.”

Your baby’s cord blood is priceless.

Hmmmmm… funny that they don’t list what they’ll charge you to harvest it and then bank it…

I guess the real way to think about it is as insurance — a new-age kind of health insurance, of sorts.

I’m still not sold on it.

Neither is my wife so it’s very unlikely that we’ll invest in it when the big day arrives in a matter of weeks.

Furthering my confidence in our decision is the fine print:

The odds that a family member without a defined risk will need to use their child’s cord blood are low. There is no guarantee that the cord blood will be a match for a family member or will provide a cure. Autologous cord blood stem cells will not guarantee suitable treatment for all inherited genetic diseases.

Um… so why would I pay hundreds (or even thousands) of dollars to do this?

It costs money but doesn’t guarantee anything…

Seems a little like snake oil to me…

(Or insurance, frankly… The kind that doesn’t actually cover anything.)

Posted on April 14th, 2009 at 7:44 pm by Brainy Smurf
Finance, Insurance, Smurfling | 3 Comments »

Stereotypes in the Parking Lot… And Christopher Lowell too!

Christopher LowellIt’s crazy how nice people can be — even if it’s phony.

My wife just happens to be 8-months pregnant right now and I know how you hear about how all kinds of people will come up to you and want to touch your tummy and stuff but, seeing as I’m not the one with the huge protruding belly button, I hadn’t really experienced much of that first hand.

Until last week.

It was Sunday morning and we were on our way to Toys ‘R’ Us to search for, you guessed it, Smurf dolls.

The store closest to home let us down, as it often does, so we were driving across the state to check out the next closest location.

On the way, passing through a town with a much different demographic than any town I’ve ever lived in, at 70 miles per hour, we saw a Burlington Coat Factory.

It looked kinda ghetto but that didn’t matter…

I like Burlington Coat Factory.

We stopped.

I’ve never bought any clothing there, never even tried anything on but they always have that huge section of good quality towels, curtains, sheets, and crap that you could pay twice as much for if you went to a place like Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

That, and going into a Burlington Coat Factory always gives me the opportunity to do my Christoper Lowell impression which makes me crack myself up every single time…

Speaking of Christopher LowellWhat ever happened to that guy? He used to be on television all the time…

If you’re lost as to why I do a Christopher Lowell impression (funny on its own — trust me) at Burlington Coat Factory, it’s because he has a product line available there and, years ago, it wasn’t uncommon to run into a life-size cardboard cutout of him in the decorative pillow aisle.

I’m giving myself the giggles right now just thinking about it…

Anyway, also of interest, especially now, at Burlington Coat Factory is their extensive baby section. It’s not any cheaper than the regular stores and, for the most part, they have all of the same brands that all of the other stores have. The biggest difference is the selection. Burlington Coat Factory has it all.

So we pulled into the pitted and potholed parking lot.

There weren’t many cars there but a woman had pulled into a parking spot just before us and was headed towards the door.

She was a heavy-set black woman. She had her hair all done up and bling to the max draped across her chest — perhaps in case she encountered one Mr. Christopher Lowell, though, I’m pretty sure he’s not really into the ladies…

She had lose fake 4-inch nails on and some super high heels on too, I dunno, I guess to make her appear slimmer. It wasn’t working. Basically, she looked a little like Mary J. Blige, except 100 pounds or so heavier.

She even had the diva strut and attitude to match.

Realistically, based on first impression, I think I could safely say that we had pretty much nothing in common — besides being in a Burlington Coat Factory mood on a Sunday morning.

Anyway, with that on my mind (not really, at the time she was just the lady in front of us with the huge butt swinging from side to side), we followed her to the interior airlock door (you know, in that space where they keep the shopping carts. I suppose it’s like a mudroom for big box stores), which she tugged.

It didn’t open. She tugged again.

In an accent that I suppose can be considered local, but isn’t a dialect that I would ever use, she openly questioned what time it was.

Being that we were the only other people in the room (airlock?), we assumed that she was asking us. Maybe she was just being loud.

She was pissed — you could tell. She even did that head thing — it was classic.

(Really, I could have put a check mark next to every single stereotype out there — she fit the bill on all of them.)

My wife began to dig through her purse for her phone (neither of us wear a watch) and it turned out that we were all there a good half hour before they would be open. Sigh…

Dejected, we turned around, all three of us, and headed back to the car which was parked one space away from her car — a mid 90′s sedan.

Totally expecting to walk back to the car in silence and continue our planned trip to the toy store, the woman said to my wife, “You look so beautiful and healthy, when are you due?”

Wow — well, that came out of no where…

We shot the breeze on stuff like that for maybe 15 seconds on the way back to the cars.

It wasn’t a long conversation.

It wasn’t very detailed either, just a bunch of fluff (thankfully she never got the chance to start listing off names that we should think about), but even if the entire conversation weren’t really genuine, that woman in the Burlington Coat Factory parking lot went out of her way to be nice to complete strangers.

So much for stereotypes…

As we got into our cars, she smiled at us, lipstick on her teeth and all, and wished us luck. That was really cool of her.

Somehow, though, I think all it was due to my wife looking so bloated.

That’s too bad.

Posted on April 11th, 2009 at 6:41 am by Brainy Smurf
Life, Smurfling | 4 Comments »

Happy π Day!

PiSo what did you do to celebrate?

Back in university, being among nerdy engineers pretty much 24/7, March 14 was always a date we had circled on the calendar.

While most university students anticipated March 17, we engineers did most of our drinking on March 14 and quizzed each other on how many digits we’d memorized.

Off the cuff, right now, I can still ring off “3.1415926535″.

Yeah, looking back, we were pretty nerdy.

Fast forward 13 years…

Today my wife and I spent Pi day at an 8-hour birthing class and, let me tell you, it was an experience.

We were the first couple there so we got to pick where we sat — something that’s usually a plus until you realize that it also means that you won’t get a chance to pick who you sit next to.

As couples began to arrive, a 2-chair “courtesy seat” rule was being observed, but as the room began to fill up, it became apparent that soon everyone would have to be sitting next to a stranger.

Of the 12 couples in attendance, I’m happy to report that the two couples that chose to sit on either side of us happened to be the two couples that I personally would have chosen to sit next to myself if given the chance.

They were both, I dunno, clean, modern, attractive, and personable.

That sounds really harsh, but really, I’m not sure I’d even be comfortable shaking hands with some of these strangers.

At the start, much like what I imagine an AA meeting would be like, we had to introduce ourselves (Brainy & H-Bear), say who our doctor was (the dude at THIS hospital), and when our due date was (May 19).

And then we had to describe what we “felt” in one word.

Huh?

Oh, this is going to be one of those “talk about my feelings” classes, isn’t it?

Ugh.

I chose “Anxious”.

My wife chose “Reward”.

Hmmmm… To the others in the room, those responses probably made it seem as if we’re a terrible couple.

Anyway, we watched a couple of movies much too graphic to describe here and as I scoped out the room, I realized that I actually knew two of the people?! Crazy!

If anything, since pretty much everyone in the room had the same doctor and they’ve all been going to doctor appointments on a pretty regular basis, I thought it’d be my wife that would recognize a few faces but, nope, it was me.

One guy was a guy who used to work with me over a decade ago. He got fired because he smelled.

No joke. It was a hygiene issue that cost him his job. Thank GOD he didn’t recognize me or, worse, sit next to me. I did my best not to make eye contact.

The other person that I knew actually was sitting next to me. The minute she walked in the room with her husband I immediately thought, “Oh, please let them sit next to me… Please let them sit next to me…” and then they did.

She seemed really familiar but it took me probably two hours to figure it out. I knew that I knew her from somewhere but I just couldn’t place it.

When it finally hit me, I realized that I went to high school with her brother (and her too, but she’s a good 4 years younger). She didn’t recognize me or maybe she did but either way, we didn’t say anything to one another.

So after a bit of a lecture and some gross movies, we broke out the padded mats and got on the floor.

The instructor turned down the lights and started playing this odd harp music as an eerie female voice asked us to “Picture a blue screen in the sky…” Um, okay?

This went on for a good ten minutes or so before I had to stifle my giggles.

Seriously, imagine 24 fully clothed people lying on the floor in a dark room with harp music playing and some soothing voice from above talking about an imaginary “screen in the sky.”

It all felt very, I dunno, cult-ish to me. I felt like asking when the comet was scheduled to stop by and pick us up.

After that “exercise” we had this thing that the instructor said was like a mad-lib. And it was. You know, those things were you fill in the blank words with wacky adjectives or swear words?

But the blanks weren’t where wacky adjectives would fit.

Here are a few examples:

The top of the uterus is called the ____________.
The bottom of the uterus is called the ____________.

Now, I don’t know about you, but the words that I’d guess for these two aren’t words that I’m willing to use on this blog.

They’re also not words I’m willing to utter in the company of strangers. Sure, they’re not officially swear words but they may as well be. And, as I found out, my words were wrong too.

Bottom line, mad libs are fun. This was not.

After a quick lunch break, we got a tour of the maternity wing of the hospital.

That was pretty neat.

I’d never done that sort of thing before so it was pretty valuable to get to actually see it before we’re there for real.

Then we went back to the cult-meeting room. We got back on the floor and the harp music kicked in — this time accompanied by some artificial flute noise. Yeah, it was deep.

The voice from above tried to “get us in the mood” again for some sort of out-of-body experience or something and then some breathing techniques.

I couldn’t help but wonder how many of the guys (and the girls too, actually) were lying there looking at the ceiling wondering why they were wasting their whole Saturday at this class and if anything could be more ridiculous than acting like a cult member waiting for a comet to arrive.

I couldn’t have been the only one having those thoughts – though I heard no giggling.

At the conclusion we watched another graphic movie before we were awarded with a graduation certificate. Thankfully there wasn’t a test at the end.

But in all seriousness, I can’t say that I learned anything new.

Maybe it’s just me, but the breathing techniques were exactly the same as what my track coach taught me in high school. It’s exactly what we did on the track. It’s exactly what we did in the weight room. I’m pretty sure that would be the case for anyone that took high school sports relatively seriously.

Guys, if it were possible for us to give birth, we’ve already got the breathing part down.

Really, especially for any long distance runners out there that haven’t taken a birthing class — it’s all going to be really familiar… until the harp music kicks in. Then it gets weird.

In the end though, I’m glad we went.

The most valuable part was definitely the hospital tour (which is something you can do on its own separate from a birthing class) but I’m still glad that we sat through all of the goofy movies and breathing techniques.

I may not have learned a single thing today (besides what the top of the uterus is *really* called) but at least I don’t feel like I’m missing anything either.

Had we skipped it, I think I’d always wonder if I were missing something important.

Now I know that I’m not.

(Of course I say that now… I’ll likely eat my words in mid-May.)

Posted on March 14th, 2009 at 6:23 pm by Brainy Smurf
Life, Smurfling | 6 Comments »

Photo of the Week: Check Out My Crib, Y’all…

This Week on MTV Cribs... Brainy Smurf!

I know, there wasn’t a “Photo of the Week” last week…

It’s not that I forgot or was too busy… I just had the nastiest flu-like symptoms that I’ve had in years…

Anyway, on Thursday evening we picked up part of our order at BabyUSA. The remaining piece of Furniture won’t be in until sometime in March. Yeah, one of those 6-8 week things… Not sure what takes so long… They can’t be made to order… I digress…

Everything came in a nice big cardboard box — which they opened at the store (you know, destroying any protective integrity that the boxes once had) then taped them back up haphazardly and helped us load them into my wife’s truck.

We drove to the far end of the parking lot, took everything out of the back, and then re-arranged things in a MUCH safer way for the car ride home.

After an uneventful car ride home, entirely due to our stellar packing job, it was time to bring stuff into the house.

We started with the dresser — the heaviest and most awkward of the pieces — and slowly made our way in the front door.

Inside the cardboard box it was fully assembled, you know, like a REAL piece of furniture. For $519.99, I’d better not have to break out an Allen wrench…

The second box, a big wide flat one, contained the crib. Just from looking at the box, this was going to be an IKEA-style project. Luckily, since it wasn’t nearly as bulky, it was easy to get into the house and up the stairs.

The dresser, however, was a beast.

We took all of the drawers out to lessen the weight, but it was still pretty heavy. Weight wasn’t the main issue though.

The dimensions of the stairwell were the problem.

Low clearance, walls on both sides all the way up, and a 90 degree turn thrown in for an added challenge.

How we managed to get a queen size mattress up this flight of stairs is still a mystery…

Our first two attempts were unsuccessful. Both attempts ended with the dresser tightly wedged at the turn in the stairs.

Hmmmm…

Knowing that I was planning to have the first floor completely renovated, and doing a quick check to make sure the wall wasn’t supporting anything above, I was almost ready to break out a circular saw and make the opening bigger in my own special way…

We tried one more time and it barely, with less than a half inch to spare, cleared the corner and the lowest part of the ceiling.

Phew!

Now, at this point, I’m all sweaty and out of breath. It’s also beginning to get late and we’ve got to go to work in the morning.

Does that stop us?

Of course not. The project is not complete.

We start putting together the crib and it’s just like an IKEA piece of furniture — something we’re very experienced with. Of course I don’t ever remember paying so much for something that I had to assemble with an Allen wrench, but still, it looks like a pretty nice and solid piece of furniture.

By 9:30 pm, we’re done and I’m settling in to watch 30 Rock, part of my normal Thursday night routine, before hitting the sack.

All-in-all, the room looks pretty nice and I’m pretty happy with our selection and not at all worried about how much we spent on it all.

Grant, who just had a baby of his own (congrats!) and often leaves great comments here that get me thinkin’, mentioned after the we purchased the furniture that we should just accept the fact that we’re going to buy a bunch of stuff and to get all of the big purchases made now.

He’s right.

You often hear the line, “Don’t sweat the small stuff…”

Right now, I’m not even sweating the big stuff…

We’ll see what happens when the statement arrives!

Posted on January 25th, 2009 at 9:12 am by Brainy Smurf
Photo, Smurfling | 2 Comments »

A Few Hours and $1650.37 Later…

Chomps the AlligatorToday’s shopping trip pretty much went as planned.

We didn’t get to bring anything home, except Chomps the Alligator, like we’d hoped but we picked out and paid for all of the furniture for the new person coming sometime in May 2009.

I just spent how much?

The crib was on sale. Real bargain at $299.99, huh?

I guess when you compare it to the two dresser type pieces coming in at a cool $519.99 each, the crib was a bargain.

The experience was a lot less stressful than regular furniture shopping. Though you could tell the staff were earning a commission, we weren’t “hunted” or “stalked” the entire time we were in the store.

In fact, I don’t think I even had to utter, “No thanks, we’re just looking…”

But… once the sale was imminent, the up-sell pitch was on…

Going in, I knew it would be a good idea to buy the “ADULT RAILS” that allow you to turn the crib into a full size bed. The salesperson didn’t have to work very hard to get us to jump on that.

It was the mattress that they got us on.

Included in the sale, we were “awarded” a free mattress.

Cool! Well, wait…

He took us over to show it to us and, well, let’s just say that it looked like a couple of pizza boxes stuffed in a white garbage bag. I wouldn’t want to sleep on it.

Next to it, though, was a stunning marketing display for a designer Staph Guard mattress. The display listed all of it’s high end features like… square corners. OMG!

No joke. That was a “feature”.

The crazy part is that in every book I’ve read, babies and square corners go together like drinking and driving. This is apparently not true when it comes to mattresses. I swear, I should write my own book…

We asked for a moment to discuss…

And then we had a pretend conversation, you know, like they do when you’re buying a car and the sales rep claims that they need to ask the manager if they can accept your offer…

Bruins are looking pretty good this year, huh?”

“Yes, I’d say that they’ve got a decent chance at the cup this season…”

Cutting to the chase, we’d been up-sold. Big time.

We were buying the more expensive “Staph Guard” mattress for the crib.

Ch-ching!

So, though it was “on sale”, the actual cost of the crib, plus the side rails, plus the mattress, and minus the mattress credit was $509.98.

Hmmm… not such a deal. I’m not sure the bed I sleep in cost that much.

And I’m all but positive that my mattress isn’t protecting me from a staph infection.

Seriously, how does that work?

Are we going to die with horrible sores all over our bodies?

Anyway, we charged the whole thing but thankfully I’ve got enough in savings now to cover it. Not sure I’ll go that route, but it’s good to know that it’s there if needed.

And, on the bright side, this gets the BIG expensive items out of the way early…

Posted on January 17th, 2009 at 11:21 pm by Brainy Smurf
Finance, Smurfling | 8 Comments »

Lining Up to be an Expensive Day

StorkYep, with just over 120 days to go, we’re going baby shopping today…

We’ve priced things out a few times at Babies-R-Us and USA Baby already but haven’t actually bought anything. You know, we just test drove all of the strollers, tried to break a few cribs, and openly questioned what anyone would need a wipe warmer for…

But the window shopping phase is over.

Today we’ll break out the credit cards and spend some money and get things rolling.

I hear that all of these places offer layaway and most even have their own special financing available.

I’ll listen to the pitch, but I have a feeling that we’ll just charge all of this stuff up front and pay it right back down up until the due date.

Wish me luck… on the shopping front.

Posted on January 17th, 2009 at 10:30 am by Brainy Smurf
Finance, Smurfling | 3 Comments »

Photo of the Week: 22-Week Ultrasound

So my wife had her 22-week ultrasound today, apparently the final one barring any issues, and I took some time off to go with her.

This was my third time going to one of these appointments so, for once, I kinda knew what I was in for. Truth be told, for the most part, I just sit there with my mouth shut — it’s not that hard.

This time was kinda neat, though… See, if you’ve ever gone to one of these appointments you can’t miss how the women in the waiting room size one another up. It’s hysterical.

On our first visit, back in November, it was hard not to notice the other women in the waiting room looking down on us — you know, cause we weren’t “far” enough along.

The second visit, well, everyone in the waiting room seemed to be at about the same stage, so the women were obviously sizing up the “support partners” (ha!) in a pseudo my-man-is-better-than-your-man sort of way. Thank god I don’t wear sweatpants in public.

Really, by that fact alone, I out-manned one fellow.

This time, my wife was the cow of the room. No doubt. One woman across from us in the waiting room was so sheepish about it that she wouldn’t even make eye contact.

I couldn’t help but be proud.

Yeah, that’s right. My wife is fatter than your wife.

Once we were called into the room where they do the ultrasound thing, the appointment went just like the previous ones. Yep, little monster skeleton looking thing in there kicking and squirming. Think… velociraptor.

Unfortunately, the images didn’t seem as clear this time — not sure what that was about — but could clearly see the baby opening and closing it’s mouth, so that was neat.

Then it was time for the real doctor to come in for a look. Again, it’s just like going to the dentist — the person without the degree does all the work and then the big bad doctor comes in at the end for 5 seconds.

The door opens, and without even introducing himself, he blurts out, “What hospital are you having the baby at?”

Poor grammar aside, I thought it was a pretty strange entrance. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but later my wife thought he was prying to see if he should bother pretending to be nice, you know, since we’re NOT having the baby at this hospital, he had no problem coming across as gruff.

He sat down and took control of the little wand/scanner thing. It was blatantly apparent that he had the personality of a door knob.

Now, I was an engineering major in university.

I know what you’re thinking; those guys are always a bunch of nerdy dweebs.

For the most part, that’s true. What I’m saying is that I’ve hung out with a lot of people with zero personality. I can honestly say that I’ve spent a few Friday nights discussing math — I’m not ashamed to admit it.

But here’s the thing — engineers generally only interact with engineers.

This guy, on the other hand, is a doctor?!

Doctors deal with the public!

Further, this guy is a freaking BABY DOCTOR?!

I dunno, but I think the med schools out there need to start teaching these guys something about dealing with the public. I mean, to get your engineering degree, you had to pass a communications course that taught you how to NOT speak geek speak all the time.

Most of us considered it a “bird” course, but really, for some, I’m sure it had some effect.

Anyway, at one point, while scanning all around looking for a nice clear shot of the heart, he lifted his free hand and started scratching the top of his head like an ape.

We’re not talking about a discrete index finger itch. This was an all out four-fingered plow-the-fields scratch that lasted over 10 seconds. Un-real.

Now, I must admit, I’ve been known to scratch my head like an ape too — usually while driving around in the convertible.

I dunno, there’s something about the wind whipping your hair all around that makes your head really itchy.

Am I alone on this one?

Either way, it wasn’t windy in the examination room…

For the record — this is the first ultrasound post that hasn’t included a reference to an action figure.

I’m pretty proud of that.

Posted on January 13th, 2009 at 7:52 pm by Brainy Smurf
Photo, Smurfling | 2 Comments »