View Full Version : Playpens (baby)...
Old moms, new moms, did you/do you use one?
Buttermilksky's, thread (Frugality=Living like we did as kids) posted in the Consumerism & The Media Forum, made me think about many old-fashioned things, things that used to be the standard way back when, like playpens.
I loved using a playpen! Being able to contain baby in the playpen when I was busy was so convenient and handy. Often, if I was cooking or baking and wanted baby close-by, into the playpen I'd put him/her, and it never failed to keep them happy and content, knowing they were right there with me, and of course the playpen ensured safety.
To add, isn't it ironic how people tend to push the most useful of things off to the side over time. Things that help make their lives simpler and easier... I say that, because I know playpens don't carry the same popularity today, as they did back in the 70's/80's.
I remember being in one. It felt like prison I always wanted the toy that was out of reach.
I didn't use one with my kids, only because I never rec'd one as a gift.
I have one that we use as a crib. We have a lot of areas of our house gated off, so T usually crawls around in the gated areas. We have 5 flights of stairs in our house, one of them open, so the gates are a must and even then they don't hold the monkeys for long. James had just turned 2 when he decided he'd be willing to go head first over the gate if it meant he could escape.
The little booger (Travis) learned to climb up on furniture today. I turned around to find him standing on the toy chest, which was pulled up to Daddy's computer. He wanted to pound on the keyboard. It's only a matter of time now before he can climb out of the crib and then out of the gate. Little boy heads must be made of rock, or I'm pretty sure there'd be no such thing as grown men.
I received one as a gift. I loved it for naps so I could keep the baby downstairs with me during the day. My kid would never play in it though. Every time I tried to set her in it, she screamed and screamed and screamed. She had to be either in my arms or where the action was.
I used one for my guys, but only for a second or two at a time to get something done. Now If I had only kept my one son in there till he was 25....
But really play pens are not used anymore?
IshbelRobertson
3-19-12, 6:33pm
I had a 'lobster pot' for my children. NONE of them would accept being put into the thing!
Didn't use one, or gates, or anything.
The Continuum Concept asserts that a baby has a self preservation instinct, and while we should be mindful, we needn't be over-protective. That we can teach when a situation that could be dangerous arises, rather than preventing the child from going near what would be dangerous.
When DS was little (pre-crawler), I mostly wore him pretty much all the time. So, if I needed to do anything -- cook, clean, whatever -- I would simply put him in the wrap. He preferred to be held anyway.
Once he got mobile, I prepped the space for him and taught him how to avoid dangers. For example, I had no problem with him going anywhere in the house while I was in the house -- I left nothing locked or gated or anything. I had no need to "pen" him into anything.
when he learned to crawl, we taught him how to navigate the stairs. Anything in the lower cabinets of the kitchen were available for him to pull out and explore -- same with closets, under sink cabinets in the bathroom, etc.
Normally, he was very close to me -- in the same room usually. Never more than 3-4 ft away at that point. Never had any problems really.
And then, of course, we would go to parks and I would let him range -- crawl, climb, slide at playgrounds -- and then if we were in open fields, i'd just let him roam around as far as he wanted. He would probably go about 20-30 ft away. Yes, this is as a crawler -- so between 7 and 9 months old (when it was no longer winter outside, but spring). Most of the time, it was just us out there, but sometimes people would freak out about it. LOL Ah well.
This is just a philosophical perspective.
Now, do people use playpens?
Yes, the "pak-n-play" is most popular. It folds up so you can travel, and it creates a play pen, crib/bassinette/changing table bit all in one. I felt like it was a needless object (based on my philosophy), so I wasn't worried about it.
There is a difference between keeping track of one baby in a smaller house with one set of stairs than two babies (or more) in a house with several sets of stairs. There is also a huge difference in playing outside with one baby compared to playing outside with two babies. I remember many times standing in the middle wondering which way to run to grab which baby first, the one 30ft into the woods or the one 30ft away towards the road. I tried and failed as a caregive to someone else's two toddlers while mine were the same age, don't know how those with multiple births do it.
My babies were 11.5 mts apart. Now the thing I loved was the "walker". Weston loved being in that thing and followed me everywhere at the large church where I was youth pastor. He really rocked a concert one night in his walker; that baby was all over the place fast as could be. I was very thankful that he was happy in the walker because I was pregnant again so quickly and needed to be careful with lifting. I couldn't wear Weston in a sling very long. He was walking on his own at 9 mts. I think that walker really built his leg muscles. Alex didn't like the walker, he only wanted to be held. But he was an early walker as well, walking on his own at 10 mts.
[QUOTE]There is a difference between keeping track of one baby in a smaller house with one set of stairs than two babies (or more) in a house with several sets of stairs.
I would definitely agree with that. Two toddlers at once is a challenge.
When I had my oldest we lived in a small one bedroom place on one level. Miss Charlotte is baby #5 in 8 years and babies #3 and #4 are 2.5 and almost 1. We live in a house with nothing but stairs. This is a whole different ballgame. I don't think gating the stairs is overprotective. My oldest was pretty calm, but the younger three have not had much in the way of self-preservation instinct. James in particular seems scientifically interested in all the ways one could injure their cranium. :) I love that boy. He's his Dad's kid. The dad who once got stuck by his head dangling off a railing at his farmhouse. I'm not into the padded-room safety stuff, but gates by the stairs seem reasonable to me.
The sling has not been the saviour for me it seems to be for others. Baby #1 loved the sling. Baby #2 hated it with all her might. Baby #3 was OK with it until he could crawl and then wanted nothing in the least to do with it. Baby #4 was similar to baby #3. We shall see what Miss Lottie decides. I hope she likes the sling because I agree that is a nice way of getting stuff done. It's funny because their personalities are still like that. Cheyenne is 8 and a total snuggle bunny. Bella is 6 and likes her space. James and T alternate between snuggle fests and constant motion.
I have no doubt that there are different difficulties. As well as different philosophies. I wasn't demonizing the use of play pens (or anything else), but rather simply discussing what I did and how it wasn't that big of a deal.
My father tells many stories about the many times his mother had the police called on her for "neglecting" her babies.
When they were little, they lived in a house that had a cliff's edge at the back of their back yard. Not being owners of the house, there was on fence, nor could they afford to put one in anyway and the landlord refused besides. There was a washing line out there, and my grandmother had made two harnesses -- one for each of her rowdy boys -- and then would hook them to the line. They would run and toddle and wrestle and just have a grand time in the sunshine.
She was out in the yard, doing her gardening, hanging out or taking down the wash, and as they had a hand-crank tub then, often *doing* the wash out there. She also did a fair bit of washing for other families, to make a small income. So, she was out there quite a bit.
One day, my grandmother answered the door and it was the police. They'd been called because a neighbor had decided that she was neglecting her babies because she had them "tied up like dogs in the yard."
After being admonished, she told the police officer "of course I will take them inside, and watch them when we are outside. But i do need to finish the wash. Please be a dear and watch them for me while I finish?" And at that moment when he'd barely said "yes" she unhooked the lines and both boys were off like gunshot!
My father, apparently, was quite attracted to the police car, and took off in that direction, whereas his brother thought the cliff -- in the other direction -- would be far more fun indeed. The police officer went after my uncle, and my grandmother, savvy as she was, knew my father would stop dead in his tracks once he'd put his hands on the front of that car -- she didn't budge from her washing.
The police officer gathered up my uncle, who apparently started to protest loudly, and by this time, my father had managed to open the police car door, climb in, and set off the siren. He was also honking the horn, and managed to lock the police officer out.
My grandmother continued with the wash.
The police officer then tried to get the car unlocked, but my father kept locking it, and then apparently managed to use something he'd found IN the car to jam the handle so that the door couldn't be opened. He apparently thought this was a terrible amount of fun.
At this point, my uncle had decided that sirens and horns were not at all to his liking (flashing lights not withstanding) and had managed to use the "limp-lead-scream" technique to wriggle out of the officer's arms, at which point he headed directly for the busy road.
The officer then headed to grab my uncle again, and my father unlocked the other car door and climbed out, and then locked the car door again before closing it off. He then headed off to the neighbor's yard, and hid under her hydrangea bush.
Once the officer got back to his car, he noted that the other little guy was no where to be found, and managed to get into the car (through the passenger's side) and turn off the siren while still holding onto my wriggling uncle. When the officer then tried to unjam the door handle on the driver's side, my uncle managed to wriggle out, planting a kick in a rather sensitive location. He then headed directly for the cliff.
My grandmother continued with her washing.
The police officer then realized that the other little boy was "gone" and also noticed that the younger one was headed right back for the cliff. He managed to snatch up my uncle just before he went over the edge, and walked him -- wriggling and screaming away -- back to the washing line, where he promptly tethered him.
The officer then spent the better part of an hour canvassing the street looking for my father, who -- when he'd gotten hungry -- had toddled back to the washing line where my grandmother had kept a lunch pail of snacks for them. And there he was, when the officer came back, sharing a snack with his brother, who was tethered to the line.
My grandmother continued with the washing, and the officer, having found my father, reconnected his tether, and said "Thank you, ma'am, you have a nice day." And left it at that.
I have no doubt that there are different difficulties. As well as different philosophies. I wasn't demonizing the use of play pens (or anything else), but rather simply discussing what I did and how it wasn't that big of a deal.
My father tells many stories about the many times his mother had the police called on her for "neglecting" her babies.
When they were little, they lived in a house that had a cliff's edge at the back of their back yard. Not being owners of the house, there was on fence, nor could they afford to put one in anyway and the landlord refused besides. There was a washing line out there, and my grandmother had made two harnesses -- one for each of her rowdy boys -- and then would hook them to the line. They would run and toddle and wrestle and just have a grand time in the sunshine.
She was out in the yard, doing her gardening, hanging out or taking down the wash, and as they had a hand-crank tub then, often *doing* the wash out there. She also did a fair bit of washing for other families, to make a small income. So, she was out there quite a bit.
One day, my grandmother answered the door and it was the police. They'd been called because a neighbor had decided that she was neglecting her babies because she had them "tied up like dogs in the yard."
After being admonished, she told the police officer "of course I will take them inside, and watch them when we are outside. But i do need to finish the wash. Please be a dear and watch them for me while I finish?" And at that moment when he'd barely said "yes" she unhooked the lines and both boys were off like gunshot!
My father, apparently, was quite attracted to the police car, and took off in that direction, whereas his brother thought the cliff -- in the other direction -- would be far more fun indeed. The police officer went after my uncle, and my grandmother, savvy as she was, knew my father would stop dead in his tracks once he'd put his hands on the front of that car -- she didn't budge from her washing.
The police officer gathered up my uncle, who apparently started to protest loudly, and by this time, my father had managed to open the police car door, climb in, and set off the siren. He was also honking the horn, and managed to lock the police officer out.
My grandmother continued with the wash.
The police officer then tried to get the car unlocked, but my father kept locking it, and then apparently managed to use something he'd found IN the car to jam the handle so that the door couldn't be opened. He apparently thought this was a terrible amount of fun.
At this point, my uncle had decided that sirens and horns were not at all to his liking (flashing lights not withstanding) and had managed to use the "limp-lead-scream" technique to wriggle out of the officer's arms, at which point he headed directly for the busy road.
The officer then headed to grab my uncle again, and my father unlocked the other car door and climbed out, and then locked the car door again before closing it off. He then headed off to the neighbor's yard, and hid under her hydrangea bush.
Once the officer got back to his car, he noted that the other little guy was no where to be found, and managed to get into the car (through the passenger's side) and turn off the siren while still holding onto my wriggling uncle. When the officer then tried to unjam the door handle on the driver's side, my uncle managed to wriggle out, planting a kick in a rather sensitive location. He then headed directly for the cliff.
My grandmother continued with her washing.
The police officer then realized that the other little boy was "gone" and also noticed that the younger one was headed right back for the cliff. He managed to snatch up my uncle just before he went over the edge, and walked him -- wriggling and screaming away -- back to the washing line, where he promptly tethered him.
The officer then spent the better part of an hour canvassing the street looking for my father, who -- when he'd gotten hungry -- had toddled back to the washing line where my grandmother had kept a lunch pail of snacks for them. And there he was, when the officer came back, sharing a snack with his brother, who was tethered to the line.
My grandmother continued with the washing, and the officer, having found my father, reconnected his tether, and said "Thank you, ma'am, you have a nice day." And left it at that.
Zoebird, that had to be the funniest post I've ever seen!
Thanks for the laugh!
The stories of My Father and Uncle the Terrors of the Neighborhood, Catholic School, and Sporting Fields are the most awesome.
Here is another, from that same era.
The main shop where my grandmother would buy groceries was only a short walk downhill, but involved crossing two major and busy intersections. It was also her least favorite activity, because she couldn't leave her sons with a neighbor (as no one would have them) and shop in peace.
Being bright and curious individually, together they created a formidable team. Even today -- at aged 65 and 62, the two of them together could take down the most seasoned Survivor competitors, even if they were on opposing teams. Somehow, these two little darlings would figure out a way to work together, undermine whatever activity anyone else was attempting to do to contain them. You might call them a little bit of Chaos.
In any case, as a formidable team, their primary goal seemed to be to -- cause trouble everywhere. And a grocery store is -- of course -- one of the best possible places to create a problem. You see, there are pyramids there. Stacks of things. THings organized in a certain way. And for two little boys -- aged 4 and 2 -- this seemed like an exciting opportunity to make things go "crash!" or to play hide and seek or simply see how far and in which direction all of those oranges would go, if only the older could lift the younger to the very top of the pile.
My grandmother, of course, had to keep just about a step ahead of them. She didn't always succeed, but she was a quick learner with a great adaptive quality.
Having discovered the value of the wash-line tether, it occurred to her that a leash would work in getting both boys in the store and keeping them close by her, rather than chasing them around a store as they created their unique brand of chaos.
To keep herself hands-free, she tied both tethers to her belt -- very close to her indeed, and one on either side so that they couldn't pull her down in one direction together (a process she practiced on their way to the park to play one day, and learned that not having them securely separated lead to a team-work based tug-of-war wherein the two boys would work to trip up my grandmother).
So, away they go -- across two streets of busy traffic and into the store. It is a good shopping trip, as both boys can do little more than reach in their own directions -- and my grandmother -- being smart -- gave each one the task of holding onto something *very very important* such as a can of pineapple. This way, their hands were occupied. She had to buy two cans of pineapple that day due to the fact that my father heartily rejected the idea of carrying the tinned tuna.
And so, the trip went by peacefully, all things bagged up nicely, and the store still in tact.
It was now time to traverse back uphill.
When she got across the second busy street, a neighbor confronted her very critically! "How dare you!" she asserted to my grandmother "Children are not dogs! They do not belong on a leash!"
And my grandmother said "Oh, you are so right, would you prefer to carry my groceries home for me, or hold onto the boys?" And just like that, she managed to unhook both boys before the lady even got to choose.
Off like a shot ran my father for the large pile of earth that had been brought in for the neighbors garden -- it being across the busy, traffic-burdened street! In the opposite direction, my uncle went racing for the cliff (later in his youth -- perhaps only 2 or 4 years later, he being the age of two at the time of this story -- my uncle did take up cliff diving). Panicked, the lady ran first for father, and having caught him by the wrist, began to drag him toward the cliff, where in he started to scream "no! don't throw me over the cliff!"
She then managed to grab my uncle, and as she did, my father managed to wrench himself free and take off down the street, screaming his head off that a woman was trying to murder him. He then got distracted by some tools that had been left in a yard, and immediately thought that hammering nails into the neighbor's front door would be a capital idea! And so, screaming that a woman was murdering him, he begins nailing the door into the door frame.
My grandmother continued home, carrying the groceries.
My uncle, having been stopped in his forward progress toward the cliff's edge, and fearing that this lady who had grabbed him was the famed murderess that his brother was screaming about, started to scream "murder! murder!" as well, while hitting her about the head. She went to cover his mouth to stop the screaming in her ears, when he bit her, while simultaneously screaming "murder!" and kicking her in the stomach.
To say the least, she dropped him.
Landing on the ground with a loud thud, my father fears for his own brother's life. Outraged, he runs towards their murderer and screams "You do not kill Tuck by dropping!" And uses the hammer that he had found to strike at her feet. My uncle then goes tearing off for the house, still screaming "murder!" and "drop, Tuck!" (tuck being his name). And my father, feeling that he had sufficiently harmed their attacker followed him.
About halfway to the front door, my father spied a dog door, and said "Doggie, Tuck! Doggie!" My uncle changes course and heads straight for the dog door.
My grandmother has arrived at the house, and has gone in, leaving the front door wide open.
The neighbor then attempts to enter her own home -- by the front door which is now effectively nailed shut. My father and his brother are now in the house, and ostensibly breaking anythign breakable.
THe other doors, apparently, are locked, and my uncle and father run around the house screaming "murder! murder!" After several minutes, everyhting quiets down, and looking through the window, the neighbor notes that both boys are systematically destroying the various clocks in the house. (After my grandmother passed, my father went through a storage room that she'd rented for years and years. IN this room was a box labeled "Bobby, Clocks" -- every clock that my father had taken apart but not been able to put together again was in a plastic bag with a date on it -- when he'd taken apart the clock. My father said "there had to have been 50 or 60 clocks in there).
They had also helped themselves to her coffee cake.
Looking up, they saw their would-be murderer, which scared them -- and sent them back into a tizzy wherein the most obvious thing to do was destroy her cushions.
She then managed to get into the back of the house through a window, but once inside, the boys went shrieking out of the house through the dog door.
Tuck ran across the (less busy) street, while Bobby ran back toward the store and the busy street.
The neighbor managed to just catch Bobby's "leash" before he got into the road, and dragged him screaming "murder! murder!" as she went to collect his brother, who had discovered the neighbor's flower beds might be a prime place for digging. Just as she approached, Tuck started to throw mud and scream "NO murder! No Murder, Bo-Bee!
In the melee, my father managed to wrench his leash and throw himself between the murderer -- i mean neighbor -- and his brother yelling "no murder TUCK!"
My grandmother, apparently, had started making lunch.
The chase continued for the better part of an hour, as the woman became more and more bruised, scratched, and filthy as the chase ran through rose gardens, back across the street, and so on and so forth -- until my grandmother placed sandwiches on the front porch.
Having spied the sandwiches first, Tuck yelled "Sammich!" and my father, never one to want to miss out, knocked his brother out of the way to get there first.
Both peacefully sat on the porch to eat their lunch, BoBee telling Tuck that he was very glad that they didn't get murdered, and Tuck asking BoBee what murder was.
Funny story, zoebird! We have a pack n play. The baby is with me most of the day, but I do put her in the pack n play when I run downstairs to do the laundry. The stairs are very steep and narrow, and I don't want to risk falling on them while I am carrying her. I don't feel comfortable leaving her upstairs unattended since she now rolls all over the place. So I put her in there for a few minutes with her favorite toys, and she seems not to mind so much. We will probably use it this summer a bit, too, when we are eating our meals outside. We can put it in a shady spot and let her play without fear of her getting sunburned (which, if she is like me, can happen within five minutes even with sunscreen) or making her way to the alley (no fence yet, but we're saving for one!).
Great stories, Zoebird! OMG, those boys would have been diagnosed with something and medicated in this day and age with behavior like that! Spirited, to say the least!
iris lily
3-20-12, 10:57am
Stella, your description of your house makes me picture it as the Chutes and Ladders game: 8 people running upstairs and sliding downstairs on 5 different stair cases.
We've got a baby gate, one DH made out of oak to match the stairs, but it's at the bottom of the stairs to keep dogs from going upstairs. We've also got two gates in the kitchen area because we have dogs who cannot be in the same room without killing each other so they must be double gated because they fight through the gates. Want to go into a room? Open the gate! Then, make sure it is security closed when you enter the room. And then--want to exit the room immediately? Same routine. Oy vey. I look forward to the day when I can live with no gates, and I believe it will come sooner for you than for me! ha ha. Maybe.
iris lily
3-20-12, 10:57am
zoebird, that was my laugh for the day. Those little boys were funny!
poetry_writer
3-20-12, 11:01am
I have no doubt that there are different difficulties. As well as different philosophies. I wasn't demonizing the use of play pens (or anything else), but rather simply discussing what I did and how it wasn't that big of a deal.
My father tells many stories about the many times his mother had the police called on her for "neglecting" her babies.
When they were little, they lived in a house that had a cliff's edge at the back of their back yard. Not being owners of the house, there was on fence, nor could they afford to put one in anyway and the landlord refused besides. There was a washing line out there, and my grandmother had made two harnesses -- one for each of her rowdy boys -- and then would hook them to the line. They would run and toddle and wrestle and just have a grand time in the sunshine.
She was out in the yard, doing her gardening, hanging out or taking down the wash, and as they had a hand-crank tub then, often *doing* the wash out there. She also did a fair bit of washing for other families, to make a small income. So, she was out there quite a bit.
One day, my grandmother answered the door and it was the police. They'd been called because a neighbor had decided that she was neglecting her babies because she had them "tied up like dogs in the yard."
After being admonished, she told the police officer "of course I will take them inside, and watch them when we are outside. But i do need to finish the wash. Please be a dear and watch them for me while I finish?" And at that moment when he'd barely said "yes" she unhooked the lines and both boys were off like gunshot!
My father, apparently, was quite attracted to the police car, and took off in that direction, whereas his brother thought the cliff -- in the other direction -- would be far more fun indeed. The police officer went after my uncle, and my grandmother, savvy as she was, knew my father would stop dead in his tracks once he'd put his hands on the front of that car -- she didn't budge from her washing.
The police officer gathered up my uncle, who apparently started to protest loudly, and by this time, my father had managed to open the police car door, climb in, and set off the siren. He was also honking the horn, and managed to lock the police officer out.
My grandmother continued with the wash.
The police officer then tried to get the car unlocked, but my father kept locking it, and then apparently managed to use something he'd found IN the car to jam the handle so that the door couldn't be opened. He apparently thought this was a terrible amount of fun.
At this point, my uncle had decided that sirens and horns were not at all to his liking (flashing lights not withstanding) and had managed to use the "limp-lead-scream" technique to wriggle out of the officer's arms, at which point he headed directly for the busy road.
The officer then headed to grab my uncle again, and my father unlocked the other car door and climbed out, and then locked the car door again before closing it off. He then headed off to the neighbor's yard, and hid under her hydrangea bush.
Once the officer got back to his car, he noted that the other little guy was no where to be found, and managed to get into the car (through the passenger's side) and turn off the siren while still holding onto my wriggling uncle. When the officer then tried to unjam the door handle on the driver's side, my uncle managed to wriggle out, planting a kick in a rather sensitive location. He then headed directly for the cliff.
My grandmother continued with her washing.
The police officer then realized that the other little boy was "gone" and also noticed that the younger one was headed right back for the cliff. He managed to snatch up my uncle just before he went over the edge, and walked him -- wriggling and screaming away -- back to the washing line, where he promptly tethered him.
The officer then spent the better part of an hour canvassing the street looking for my father, who -- when he'd gotten hungry -- had toddled back to the washing line where my grandmother had kept a lunch pail of snacks for them. And there he was, when the officer came back, sharing a snack with his brother, who was tethered to the line.
My grandmother continued with the washing, and the officer, having found my father, reconnected his tether, and said "Thank you, ma'am, you have a nice day." And left it at that.
So the entire town could barely contain two boys? Highly embellished stories i think.
Those stories are really funny!
We did not have a playpen, although, to be fair, we have a pretty small one-story house with a fenced yard. We bought a cheap pressure-mount gate, thinking it might be useful to keep DD from roaming too far. However, none of the door moldings in the house are square, and DD was able to push the gate over easily.
Her personality is also such that she ignored the major hazards in the house. She is not a climber, did not put things in her mouth, and left the electrical outlets alone. At 12 months, to my horror, she found a straight pin on the floor. She carefully picked it up, studied it with great interest, and calmly dropped it in my hand.
Nephew, however, manages to zero in on danger every time he comes over. His parents have a playpen.
Mighty Frugal
3-20-12, 1:29pm
I had one but my boys didn't like it. It was useful when they were infants to have them nap in the same room I was in. Also when my first son was a little older but still a toddler (they are 17 months apart) I would stick the older one in the pack and play with his toys and the younger one couldn't get to them (many toys are not suitable for the under 3 crowd)
I'd also use it to store my over 3 yr olds toy so the 2yr old couldn't choke on them
Funny stories!
I had a playpen for my now 28YO DD. We primarily used it to contain the little one while outside. I don't remember using it as much with my DS, who is 3.5 years younger.
We had a pack-n-play for my grandson, who is now 7.5. He slept in it at night and for naps at our house. I never folded it up and took it somewhere - if we were out, we just dealt with him. My granddaughter did not use it at all. The new grandson is 8 months old, and we have not brought the PNP down from the attic.
My daughter does put the baby in her PNP while outside. About a week ago, we had a cookout at their house, and the little guy is at a pulling up stage. When he reached for the hot BBQ - dd got the PNP and corralled the little dude. He was so happy in there, playing with his toys, that my granddaughter asked to join him. The neighbors thought it was funny to see an almost three year old in a playpen, playing with her baby dolls while the eight month old was driving toy trucks around.
loosechickens
3-20-12, 2:38pm
I used a playpen for both my kids, but we kept "special" toys in there, just for playing with in the playpen, and we never left them in there longer than they were willing to stay, really, so neither of them minded getting in there, and would play, usually for quite awhile, or even drop off to sleep and I could get lots of chores done without worrying about them.
Both would often ASK to get in the playpen, so they could play with the toys in there....of course, I was always HAPPY to oblige, hahahaha.....then would scurry around doing stuff while they were engrossed.......
So the entire town could barely contain two boys? Highly embellished stories i think.
It was mostly a matter of whether or not they liked the way that my grandmother contained them.
Since there was usually just one of her (her husband being in the military and often away) and the two boys, plus her work-from-home work, she had to come up with ways that would make it possible for her to maintain the children, her house, and her work. She came up with many methods that are quite good -- I think.
But, she was highly criticized because she was "not normal." Her mother, for example, had a university education (and had afforded that education by way of a basketball scholarship). She had gone to university herself for two years -- something relatively rare then -- also on a basketball scholarship, where she met my grandfather -- an engineer. He then worked for the military (having joined the navy and it was the navy who educated him) upon graduation. She moved far from her family and friends and was caring for her children on her own.
She was smart and well-read, and she was also very hard working. My father's family was not rich by any means, but she would work hard and save up to feed, educate, and clothe her boys, as well as take them on "adventures" -- out to national parks and the like for hiking and camping, often on her own and sometimes with my grandfather.
When people would criticize her directly, she would simply DEMONSTRATE to them the problem. The two of them together were quite capable little boys (and if my son is any indication of what they were like, two of them would be. . . a lot to handle. And my son is a darling little boy -- but he's all fire and excitement. He has two modes: On and Asleep. Here they say "he's a boots-and-all personality!" And that is so).
I used a different tone, but these were taken from my grandmother's journals, which my father managed to rescue for me. I love to read old journals (family members or not).
She kept a lot of these stories in her journal -- for all 5 of her children -- and she was mostly incredulous about how people would fuss at her about the way that she had managed to contain them. Ultimately, they were happy, well fed, and bright children -- all of whom became happy, well adjusted and normal adults.
I value her experience, and miss her terribly. I remember one of my favorite stories is how she saved enough money for her and her (3) children at the time to go to Egypt. Her husband had just passed away (cancer), and she wanted to "get away" a bit. She had always wanted to go to egypt, and decided that "now" was the time.
She'd gotten everything organized and sorted, and on the day she was to buy the tickets and take her kids on an adventure of a lifetime, her dreams were dashed.
Unfortunately, due to issues around my grandfather's death (such as loosing their housing because he had passed, and they were living on base at the time), my grandmother had to use that money to keep her little family afloat until she remarried about a year or so later.
She didn't get to go to egypt until 1970 or so -- and those were pictures that we used at her funeral. My father tells me -- and I can imagine based on her journals as well -- that she very much loved Egypt, and before she married my grandfather, she was studying archeology and egyptology, in a hope to work there.
But yes, I'm just exaggerating.
Zoebird your Grandma sounds like a cool lady. That was a great story!
My daughter vehemently objected to any restriction on her freedom of movement. A playpen was not acceptable at all.
Stella,
Yeah, I still miss her a great deal. She died when I was 19. So over 15 years now. Hard to believe it has been that long. I'm glad that I still have her journals. Her life was very rich, but she often ruminated her 'what ifs' -- what if she had chosen to continue with her education, rather than getting married and having children? She had a lot of struggles, but she managed to come through with a lot of grace, dignity, and humor.
Well worth reading.
Wildflower
3-21-12, 2:50am
I had a playpen which I kept in the kitchen area and used to corral my little girls often while I cooked dinner. They enjoyed being in there together playing, and I was able to interact with them while cooking. I liked that it kept them safe - one was crawling and the other was barely walking. I liked not having to worry about tripping over them with hot pans or them getting too close to the stove with boiling pans and such. I never used it otherwise though.
I do have a safety gate for my dogs, though not for safety, but to keep them out of the lower level where I feed our cats and have their litterboxes. The dogs won't leave them alone, they pig out on the cat food and dig in the litterboxes. The gate was an easy fix!
Zoebird, my Grandma had some good stories about my Dad and Uncle too. According to her they were holy terrors and she used to tether them to the clothesline and used harnesses on them when she shopped as well. :)
I think that holy terrors are often just curious, well meaning kids who don't fit into conventions that easily. which tends to describe every holy terror I've ever met (myself being included in that category for being "generally rebellious" and/or free spirited which was often written on my report cards. right next to 'very conscientious." it was a confusing childhood.
jennipurrr
3-21-12, 10:59am
I used a playpen for both my kids, but we kept "special" toys in there, just for playing with in the playpen, and we never left them in there longer than they were willing to stay, really, so neither of them minded getting in there, and would play, usually for quite awhile, or even drop off to sleep and I could get lots of chores done without worrying about them.
Both would often ASK to get in the playpen, so they could play with the toys in there....of course, I was always HAPPY to oblige, hahahaha.....then would scurry around doing stuff while they were engrossed.......
No kids but taking mental note if I ever have any...I like this strategy!
I don't think a playpen should be used extensively, but I can see the value, especially with multiple young ones, in using it here and there to get things done.
My German friend uses one for her little girl. It's a lovely wooden one they keep in the living room. I believe the German translation for playpen equates to "baby jail" in English, hehehe :)
This has turned out to be not only an informative topic, but a fun one, too. Thanks to all for joining in.
I found a little something I thought was funny Re: playpens. The picture (and caption) says it all.
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_65Ww7ZjMF5g/TEdCtQ9qgYI/AAAAAAAAAps/YZdc15ZN6Pw/s1600/pack+n+play.jpg
If only I had come across the old ad sooner, I would have named the title of this thread topic, Kiddie-Koops, which would have been a sure way of throwing everyone off as to what exactly the thread topic was all about.
That looks suspiciously like a chicken tractor to me...... :)
Thanks for the laugh, Puglogic! It really does doesn't it.
TVRodriguez
4-1-12, 12:28am
Funny stories indeed. Thurber-esque and quite enjoyable.
As for us, we never used a playpen or pack and play here at our house. We did use gates for the first kid, but we took them off at some point and left them off, even after the other two kids came along. We have a one-story house with only one step down from kitchen to family room and a couple of steps down out the back door to the patio and yard. Hardly a real hazard. After a few tries, they all learned to navigate those little stairs fairly well. And we don't have anything too precious in reach of babies. The biggest thing I had to "no, no" over was the bottom part of the dining room hutch, since it serves as a wine cabinet, but after a few times of redirecting them, all my kids pretty much lost interest in it. I guess I don't have terrors!
When traveling, however, I have found a pack and play extremely useful as a travel crib. I begged, borrowed and stole them (just an expression) from family and friends for a while, but for the third kid I ended up having to buy one when visiting my family b/c the one they had was actually in use for another baby.
I've also found the pack and play useful a few times when I had to bring my kids to a sitter's house--this time it served as a naptime crib for the baby.
When my kids were at the crawling stage, I used to put the Christmas tree in the playpen so they couldn't drag the ornaments from the bottom of the tree. I was afraid that they would cut themselves on a glass ornament...worked too!
early morning
4-1-12, 10:56am
I used a playpen with both of my kids - a life-saver. They didn't mind, since it had "special toys" in it, much as loosechickens mentioned. Their favorite was one of those hanging things with all sorts of doors, knobs, bells, moving pictures, music box, etc. Very interactive! Both kids were very verbal so they had no problems telling me when they had had enough! Dsis told me about babysitting two rowdy toddlers when she was about 12. They had a large wooden playpen but kept climbing out. Dsis was also hired, at the same time, to do other chores. She was working in the garden, getting nothing done but chasing escaped kids, and in frustration called my mom, who told her to turn the playpen over the kids and tell them to pretend they were animals at the zoo! Worked like a charm, she got so many chores accomplished she was hired for the summer and worked for the family in their farm store for the next 10 years, putting herself through college on her wages.
Thanks for dropping by you guys! Excellent insight and stories. I'm so behind the times Re: baby/child modernities, I finally decided to look up what a "play-and-pack" was. Now I know...
Early Morning. Your story of flipping the wooden playpen over to act like a play zoo cage, reminds me of something I witnessed as a child. (Something that still bothers me to this day). We had a neighbour who had a crib with a lid on it, and she'd stick her son inside and then close and lock the lid. That poor baby would scream wildly! Even as a young child (1960's), the act of doing what she did seemed wrong to me. Imagine that, a kid recognizing something as being wrong associated with baby-care. Never had I seen such a thing before, and never did I come across it again. So utterly inhumane!
domestic goddess
4-1-12, 11:23pm
Never used a playpen. In our little house, if you had such a thing up and in use, there was no room to work. If dd wanted to be with me while I cooked, she sat in her high chair and threw toys on the floor. When she was smaller, I put her in the Snuggy (is that what they were called?) and strapped her to me. She would usually be asleep in minutes, even with the vacuum cleaner on! Once she was sleeping soundly, I would put her down in her crib. I don't remember her using a crib with her two, either, for much the same reason.
I don't have any experience using a soft baby carrier. Do like the sounds of it though... Reading everyone's entries, it's apparent to me that I relied on using the crib, more, than a lot of mothers do/did.
Didn't use one, or gates, or anything.
The Continuum Concept asserts that a baby has a self preservation instinct, and while we should be mindful, we needn't be over-protective. That we can teach when a situation that could be dangerous arises, rather than preventing the child from going near what would be dangerous.
When DS was little (pre-crawler), I mostly wore him pretty much all the time. So, if I needed to do anything -- cook, clean, whatever -- I would simply put him in the wrap. He preferred to be held anyway.
Once he got mobile, I prepped the space for him and taught him how to avoid dangers. For example, I had no problem with him going anywhere in the house while I was in the house -- I left nothing locked or gated or anything. I had no need to "pen" him into anything.
when he learned to crawl, we taught him how to navigate the stairs. Anything in the lower cabinets of the kitchen were available for him to pull out and explore -- same with closets, under sink cabinets in the bathroom, etc.
Normally, he was very close to me -- in the same room usually. Never more than 3-4 ft away at that point. Never had any problems really.
And then, of course, we would go to parks and I would let him range -- crawl, climb, slide at playgrounds -- and then if we were in open fields, i'd just let him roam around as far as he wanted. He would probably go about 20-30 ft away. Yes, this is as a crawler -- so between 7 and 9 months old (when it was no longer winter outside, but spring). Most of the time, it was just us out there, but sometimes people would freak out about it. LOL Ah well.
This is just a philosophical perspective.
Now, do people use playpens?
Yes, the "pak-n-play" is most popular. It folds up so you can travel, and it creates a play pen, crib/bassinette/changing table bit all in one. I felt like it was a needless object (based on my philosophy), so I wasn't worried about it.
We definitely used a playpen. I have a small house and no stairs, but my son always crawled towards and tried to chew on electrical cords. We tried gates, furniture...nothing worked. Eventually the bowling ball bag worked, because it was too heavy for him to move. He's 6 now.
Here's to hoping #2 doesn't go after the cords.
mm1970 are you having another baby? Congratulations!
mm1970
before gavin DS, we had a rabbit. there weren't any cords accessible by the time he came. lol
was your son a rabbit in a past life perhaps? :D
And another congratulations to you, MM1970!!!
mm1970
before gavin DS, we had a rabbit. there weren't any cords accessible by the time he came. lol
was your son a rabbit in a past life perhaps? :D
Maybe he was a rabbit!
Yep, boy #2 due in early July...a bit of a surprise, we gave up on trying after over a year and gave the last of our baby stuff away last summer, right before I turned 41. Whoops.
LOL. That's the trigger, I think, giving away your baby stuff. :) How exciting!
MM1970. Our last was born in 2002, and when I was done with all the baby things, the thought crossed my mind to donate it (all of it) to a neighbour or needy mom, but as luck would have it, I put it all away, and thank heavens I did! Two baby boys in 2007! I cannot imagine the scramble, the inconvenience, and the expense, that would fallen upon me had I been faced with replacing everything... A blessing in disguise.
MM1970. Our last was born in 2002, and when I was done with all the baby things, the thought crossed my mind to donate it (all of it) to a neighbour or needy mom, but as luck would have it, I put it all away, and thank heavens I did! Two baby boys in 2007! I cannot imagine the scramble, the inconvenience, and the expense, that would fallen upon me had I been faced with replacing everything... A blessing in disguise.
Luckily a lot of my friends are purging...they just need to make sure they purge in the next couple of months...
Fingers crossed for you, MM1970.
It's amazing the savings one achieves, hanging onto baby things/stuff and reusing everything again for the next baby that comes along! I used the same two cribs throughout, much of the clothing and accessories (sleepers, crib sheets, etc), and I was usually able to put two kids through the same set of diapers (36-48 diapers), before having to start replacing them with new, and even then, diapers and rubber pants, were two standard things I was often gifted with come baby-shower time, so the pinch of baby-expenses definitely lessened with each child born.
Adding to the savings, glass nursers!
P.S. Do let me know if you end up in a pinch.
If we had another, I'd be set. I think I'd just get 10 cloth diapers (that are diaper-shaped) as our EC back up, and I'd be able to get them used from several friends around here. And that would be everything.
We're looking at adopting (ok, I'm looking at it. LOL), and the biggest issue would be having to get another house. They want separate rooms for each child. But, I called child and family services, and they put me in touch with their "FAQ" person. She called me back some time later, and I explained how we like to live simply, how we are crunchy and such, and that if a crib was required, I had space in our (nice, warm) lounge for it, which is open to our bedroom, and that our son also sleeps in his bed in the lounge, which is a day-bed. we like this "open" living, and do not feel that the "privacy" is necessary for our family. She said that many "traditional peoples" live in closer quarters, and while that is rare for white people in NZ, it wouldn't disqualify us from passing the home study (for local or international adoption).
If we got a baby, I might need a crib (blargh! It would probably become a place where we tossed our laundry), and then the diapers. And of course, clothes. Luckily, I have friends who have girls and boys, so I'd probably get "loaners" from them. It's really common for people to loan clothes and give them back to the original family UNLESS that family tells you that it's ok to "pass them along." it's easy to get clothing for babies in this country. LOL
Warms me inside to hear of your interest to adopt. As for qualifying for a home-study, as long as the home is clean, warm, and full of love, it shouldn't matter (whatsoever) what the layout of the home is. JMTC. (Just my two cents).
I laughed when I read your comment Re: using a crib as a laundry/clothing storage area! I used to babysit for a single mom who was a failure/disaster in the homemaking department! She had a change table in the baby's room, but not once (in the entire time I babysat for her) did I ever catch an actual full view glimpse of it. It was always under a ton of miscellaneous baby stuff! LOL!
I've been interested in adoption for a long time. DH is tough to convince.
I notice that about a lot of us girls. A lot of my friends are very interested in adoption, but the men won't agree until it's the only way to have children. Then, they are like "best decision ever!" And act like it was their idea all along.
DH doesn't want to adopt if we can have our own children. But I don't want to be pregnant again. That doesn't mean I don't want to have more children. I'd just rather not go through another pregnancy. And that's weird, because pregnancy was great.
Locally, it's entirely a process of luck. You fill out a one-sheet with photos of you and describe your life and what not, and mothers pick from the book whom they would like to interview and consider for a family. Most adoptions are open or semi-open (no big deal for us). Then you are informed, and you pay for the legal fees for yourself and the mother, and she gives birth and has 10 days to change her mind, then you get custody, and in 6 months, you become the full, legal parent.
Alternatively, I'd like to adopt an older child from Russia -- say in the 3-5 age range once DS is over age 5. That being said, adoptions take *forever* as far as I can tell, so we would probably decide around DS's age 5-6 and then it would take at least 2-3 years all said and done, and so DS would be 8-9 and welcoming a 3-5 yr old in. A sibling group of two -- a 3-5 and a 5-7 would work well in that situation. We just want DS to be the oldest.
Anyway, I am using 'we' when DH is simply not interested.
I can't get him to commit to a cat, let alone another human. And we need a cat. These mice are getting cheeky!
Our very own Kathy WI, is the mom to talk to Re: Russian adoption. In our case, after baby #4 was born, I think we were done, at least I like to think so, and there were no plans (at least immediate) where DH and I, had set our sights and focus on adopting, but as the old saying goes, "life happens when you're busy making other plans", and so was the case with us.
Adoption, is a hard sell when both husband and wife are physically capable of conceiving a child, and there's a big part of me that understands that side of the argument, but branching out and crafting a decision to adopt, say after having one or two children, is such a warm and loving expression.
I encourage you to continue carrying with you, the dream to adopt. (Keep the dream alive). I remember when Fidgiegirl, posted a thread that contained a link related to children waiting to find a family, waiting to find a home, waiting to be loved, it broke my heart.
I feel that same way.
I've had the desire to adopt since I was a little girl. It always just seemed like it was a good way to do things.
But on the other hand, I'm also ok with one child -- so if we don't adopt, then no worries there.
DH says that if we have another child he wants to try to have a baby first. But, I tell him that "it's easy for you to say." I mean, he doesn't have to be pregnant, go through birth, and then recover from that (which is the part thta I found difficult. The other two parts were great!). I think that, as I age, recovering will be very different -- and we wouldn't even consider another child for another year or two (DS being 3.5, DH agreed to "talk about it again when he is 5" because neither of us were interested in having a baby last year, nor are we this year, and the idea that I would next years just seems ridiculous).
So, it may be that we opt to just have one child.
I feel that same way.
I've had the desire to adopt since I was a little girl. It always just seemed like it was a good way to do things.
But on the other hand, I'm also ok with one child -- so if we don't adopt, then no worries there.
DH says that if we have another child he wants to try to have a baby first. But, I tell him that "it's easy for you to say." I mean, he doesn't have to be pregnant, go through birth, and then recover from that (which is the part thta I found difficult. The other two parts were great!). I think that, as I age, recovering will be very different -- and we wouldn't even consider another child for another year or two (DS being 3.5, DH agreed to "talk about it again when he is 5" because neither of us were interested in having a baby last year, nor are we this year, and the idea that I would next years just seems ridiculous).
So, it may be that we opt to just have one child.
We were totally "one and done" until our DS started begging. And it took awhile, but eventually we caved and tried. He was 3 when he started asking and almost 4 before we even really gave it a thought.
I am finding this pregnancy to be much harder than the first. For one thing, everything is ... looser faster. The aches start earlier. The weight gain is faster. The ligament pain started immediately. On top of that, I'm 41, almost 42. Man, that makes it harder than it was at 35. I'm going through it WITH a child to care for. I'm not nearly as fit, but part of that is lack of time. This time last pregnancy, I was doing step aerobics and walking 5-6 miles. Now I can swing 3 miles, and definitely no aerobics.
It's not that I'm in the "OMG it's so miserable to be pregnant", because it's not like that at all (except for the insomnia). But it is more tiring, and less "new". I enjoy feeling the baby move, but truly, part of me is still in denial. I got so used to having only one, it hasn't quite hit me that in 3 months (or less), I'll have a new baby to care for.
I've often given thought to, "what if". What if we weren't able to have children, what would we have done? I'm sure if we were faced with such, adoption would have (more than likely) been a serious consideration, but had we not been able to (financially, etc), I for surely would have done everything in my powers to open our home up to the foster care of babies/young children.
This time last pregnancy, I was doing step aerobics and walking 5-6 miles. Now I can swing 3 miles, and definitely no aerobics.
I'm impressed! I am due with baby #5 next month and I am finding it hard to make it half a mile at this point. On a good day I can make it a mile. On a bad day I'm pretty much glued to the couch.
DS is asking, but he's no decision-maker in these matters. LOL He wants a sister named Charlie. As far as I can tell, that's not going to happen for two reasons: 1. I will not name a girl Charlie, and 2. I just don't want any more children.
After talking about it for a long while, there, we really just realized that unless we really, really, really, really feel called to it, it's just not likely. We want to work, we want to travel, and we want to do all of that with DS. But if we have another baby, it restarts the process for us until we feel ready to travel more comfortably.
I just started to work with an organization that trains and pays teachers in africa (usually those born/raised in poor conditions or with connections to the hiv/aids crisis) so that they can teach in their home communities. I'm starting with basic fund-raising, and hope to become more involved over time (perhaps even leading teacher training, etc). So, if I want to be able to go and do those sorts of things, then I'll need to have the flexibility and mobility to do it.
I also plan to work with a local organization -- see if I can get something started with some local groups that might reach out to new refugees or other marginalized or at-risk communities. I already support the Yoga Prison Project here, so I'd like to see what else is available.
Always looking to expand my work. Crazy, but true.
I'm impressed! I am due with baby #5 next month and I am finding it hard to make it half a mile at this point. On a good day I can make it a mile. On a bad day I'm pretty much glued to the couch.
Congrats! My doc swears that every successive pregnancy gets harder, but the childbirth gets easier. For me anyway, everything is so much "looser" this time around, that I'm doing what I can and not sweating the rest (pun intended). I find that I can't even do my weekends of cooking prep like I used to. One hour on my feet is too much. I find myself leaning on the kitchen counter to take weight off when I do the dishes.
Congrats! My doc swears that every successive pregnancy gets harder, but the childbirth gets easier. For me anyway, everything is so much "looser" this time around, that I'm doing what I can and not sweating the rest (pun intended). I find that I can't even do my weekends of cooking prep like I used to. One hour on my feet is too much. I find myself leaning on the kitchen counter to take weight off when I do the dishes.
In my experience your doctor is right. The ends of these last two pregnancies have been kind of a pain, but my last birth was just insanely easy. They actually woke me up from napping to check me and I was 10 centimeters.
Zoebird I have to laugh about the sister named Charlie. Our soon-to-be-born baby is named Charlotte. I plan to call her Lottie for short (when I do shorten it, not all the time) but Zach likes Charlie as a nickname.
jennipurrr
4-18-12, 9:45am
Totally random, but there was a member here who adopted a baby from Ethiopia and named her Charlie (maybe different spelling). She was such a beautiful baby! Also, IRL I know someone who has recently had a little girl and named her Charli...so, Zoegirl, I think your son might be on to something!
Stella,
That's what I came up with too. I could name her Charlotte and call her Charlie. I like Lottie, too. :)
But, yeah. . . :D
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