At Christmas you often see parents dress their children in their Sunday best. Let’s be honest, dressing up a little one can often be a challenge. They may fight you to wear a collared shirt or a dress with tights. Then once the outfit is finally on, spills onto the fancy apparel often follows.
What about the days leading up to Christmas? Christmas seems to be a month long celebration (if not longer). With holiday parties, school pageants, family gatherings, and such. What is a kid to wear!?
Why not be festive with a funny Christmas shirt?
Our most popular:
- Naughty or Nice Christmas Bib
- Naughty or Nice Christmas Baby Bodysuit
- Naughty or Nice Christmas Shirt for Infants
- Naughty or Nice Christmas Shirt for Toddlers
- Naughty or Nice Christmas Shirt for Youth Sizes
Every baby needs to advertise it’s their first Christmas!
- Grandma’s Little Helper Bib
- Grandma’s Little Helper Baby Bodysuit
- Grandma’s Little Helper Infant Tee
- Grandma’s Little Helper Toddler Tee
- Grandma’s Little Helper Youth Tee
We are very excited to announce we have 2 fundraisers coming soon for Autism Speaks. This is a great cause, so please come out!
8800 W. 159th Street
Orland Park, IL
November 3, 2010. 6-10pm
10339 S. Ridgeland
Chicago Ridge, IL
November 17, 2010. 6-10pm.
We are very excited for our upcoming holiday shows!
Come see us and our new designs!
Indy Baby Expo by Bebe Paluzza
October 16, 17 2010
Indianapolis State Fairgrounds
Christmas World Gift & Craft Fair
November 26, 27, 28 2010
Pheasant Run Resort
St. Charles, IL
Don’t forget that in addition to our fun product line we also custom make shirts, bibs, and baby bodysuits. We can make unique Christmas gifts for all your little and big ones!
I’ve been concerned about my son who is 2 1/2 years old and does not talk yet. He babbles, says a few basic words, but otherwise communicates by pointing. Or whining. As frustrating as it has been, we consistently tell him what items are that he is asking for or question him “would you like milk? are you hungry? would you like to eat?”. Now he finally says “eat”, one of the few words in his vocabulary.
At his 2 year checkup the pediatrician said that if he still is not speaking much by 2 1/2 to get him evaluated, which we promptly did. After his evaluation the therapist told us she rated him at a 13 month old range for his speech. As difficult as this was to hear, it did not surprise me. What did surprise me is that he was rated as an 18 month old for his expressive development. He does seem “fine” developmentally to me. He understands what we ask of him, is very coordinated, and shows compassion.
Although since his speech is significantly behind, the more I think about it – it makes sense that he can’t express himself fully. I was most concerned about autism. He does have certain tendencies – besides not talking, he does have certain areas where he tends to “hang out” when he’s upset, he has mood swings, can’t drink out of an open cup yet, and simply ignores us when we speak to him at times. It’s been difficult to determine if he’s just being a 2 year old or being stubborn or if there is something more to this.
I am glad we got him evaluated and he will begin therapy 3x a week. However, I still worry that he is significantly behind and is often frustrated, and we just want him to be happy. Time will tell! Until then I have faith in the Easter Seals program. Which, by the way, is significantly cheaper than our insurance copays.
I have no idea why my 2 year old son is doing this, but he is holding food in his mouth for an incredibly long time. He does this nearly every meal. Whatever his last bite is – he simply holds it in his mouth until it liquifies. He has done this for up to an hour each time. He will not spit it out when asked. I’ve also tried to “pry” his mouth open but he refuses. Often times when he finally gets tired of it, he will either spit it out or finally swallow it (which must be oh-so disgusting). I’ve even tried bribing him with something he NEVER turns down (juice) and he would not take a sip.
I’ve searched around and it seems that other parents have experienced this with their toddlers, and there have been different theories as to what the child was trying to accomplish. Some Moms thought the child did it because they didn’t like what they were eating. This makes sense to me – although my child does it regardless of of what he’s eating. It could be green beans or chocolate, he will still hold it. Other Moms have stated their child is looking for attention. This also makes sense to me, but I know that isn’t the case for me. My son certainly has his moments when he’s looking for attention, but I can tell that is not his intention.
I think the best advice I’ve heard is that this is just a phase and he’ll outgrow it. I’m sure he will, and as frustrating as it is the meantime – I’ll do my best to just pretend that it doesn’t bother me. Perhaps if I don’t make an issue of it, he’ll stop doing it. Let’s hope.
Mother’s Day is coming up on May 9th, just around the corner. Many kids, husbands and dads out there may be wondering what to get Mom. The funny thing is that most moms don’t want big expensive gifts. Jewelry? A dinner out? Maybe.
I queried my mom friends and nearly all of them had the same answer. I just want to spend some time with my family! I couldn’t agree more. Sure, a little pampering or relaxing couldn’t hurt either. And honestly, I already know I’m going to get a homemade craft from my son since the school asked for a picture of me when I was his age. I don’t know what the craft will be, but I’m excited to see what the little guy puts together. Homemade gifts are great…when the kids are little.
Now that I’m grown with a family of my own, it doesn’t seem right to give my mother a handmade card. However, I do plan on giving her something that is personalized. My husband recently designed a “Mommy’s Honeys” and “Grandma’s Honeys” print that are incredibly cute. It’s inexpensive, yet personalized. What grandma or mom wouldn’t love it?
I work from home. I also watch my 2-year-old son one day a week and pick up my older son at 2:30pm. So my kids are around me quite a bit.
Some might view this as a wonderful time to bond and experience the growth of my children first hand and up close. To this I concur. However there’s a piece of this that is enough to drive any father insane unless they can remain completely ignorant to their surroundings. It’s the TV programs that they watch.
Thank God they no longer watch Sesame Street and that red antichrist they call Elmo. I have my 4-year-old to thank for that. He can no longer stomach it and that somehow rubbed off early on our younger son. We went from Elmo and Barney type foolishness into a nice mixture of Bat Man, Spider-Man and other various super hero cartoons . I grew up on comic books myself and it was kind of cool to get reacquainted with my Marvel and DC comic buddies of yesteryear. My wife even started comparing me to the Hulk when she didn’t have coffee made for me in the mornings. The bi-product of the two kids learning how to better rumble was a side effect I was willing to accept. But even with our DVR, I soon realized there are only so many episodes currently created of these shows. They started to bleed together like so much minutia. I was able to quote each and every simple storyline from beginning to end without looking up from my laptop. I was starting to welcome receiving texts as a breather during our TV sessions, and I HATE texts.
Then came a new program: The Penguins of Madagascar. These little goofballs not only became my kids’ favorite show, but mine as well. Yes these are the same 4 little hooligans that appear in the Madagascar films. Skipper, Kowalski, Rico & Private soon became a permanent fixture in our daily routine and thus in our lives. I couldn’t be happier.
You’ll have to take my word for it, I’m not a simple man. This is not a simple cartoon. These guys are absolutely hilarious. The wise cracks, subtleties and other humor type nuances that flow through the show are usually lost on my kids, but not on me. There are times when we’ll be watching the show and I’ll be laughing while my other kids look over at me wondering what Dad thinks is so funny. Even the King Julian character, or “ringtail” as Skipper calls him, in his brash way can make me bust out. With his broken English and over-the-top conceitedness he can turn a phrase with the best of them. And the monkeys? How can you not love the monkeys.
Now if you haven’t seen it before be warned. This is not Madagascar so you won’t see the main 4 characters the movies highlight. Alex the Lion, Marty the Zebra, Gloria the Hippo and Melman the Giraffe do not appear in this cartoon. You won’t miss them. They would only take away from the clever shenanigans of the current cast.
So if you’re a parent that loves sarcastic, witty humor and your kids love talking cartoon animals, watch Penguins of Madagascar. It kept me from the loony bin and for that I say thanks Skipper (and Dreamworks).
First off I’d like to say I can’t even image what kind of audience an article title such as this one will attract. This is not a Lorena Bobbitt type tale, nor does it involve STD’s or and any kind of emotional emasculation. This is concerning my two young sons, ages 2 and 4, and their ability to always hit me in the testicles.
It began innocently enough. My older son, then age 1 or so, would wobble around, just figuring out how to walk as I lay on the floor playing with him. Seemingly aimless, he’d tip this way and that, bouncing around the room until eventually he’d stop to pick something up, turn around, and throw it directly at my crotch. Then he’d do a swan dive after the object, often landing his enormous head (which he gets from me, ironically) in the same location. Most of the time I’d be able to hold off the attack, catching him as his Dad-like head came zeroing in on the one region I’d prefer it not. He’d think it was funny and so did we. It was a game. Even when I wouldn’t see it coming, I would still manage a laugh as I lay doubled over in fresh, crotch-pounced pain. After all he was just a baby and knew no better. I wouldd often think how cute he was as my eyes watered and I’d struggle to catch my breath.
Now he’s 4. There’s no longer the excuse that he can’t understand me. He speaks clearly and comprehends all that we say perfectly well as long as we keep the multi-syllable words down. He knows not to hit, say bad words, and he’s finally catching on that it’s not cool to push over his almost 2-year-old brother. So why can’t I get him to understand that greeting me shouldn’t involve running full speed, head first straight into my balls? He’s like a guided missile in both precision and force, or at the very least like a runaway snowboarder going down a double black run without hopes of stopping before the impending collision of whatever lye in front of him.
It’s a tricky one, because he is so excited and glad to see me I can’t help but feel good about it on some level. Perverts refrain, my feelings are strictly compassion and love for my boy and has no masochistic undertones. Of course these feelings are stronger before impact. It’s unfortunate that when I’m not quick enough, these same feelings are suddenly overshadowed by a familiar-yet-not-so-welcomed-stomach-dropping ache. Just like the kind a man feels when he’s, well, hit in the junk. But I don’t want to dissuade him from showing his affections, however they manifest themselves. He’s a Mama’s Boy so I take what I can get.
There is little break from my misfortune. It happens whether I am picking him up from Daycare, which I often do, or simply laying on the couch at home waiting for him and his mother on the days she picks him up. It then becomes a simple question of whether he comes in for the headfirst crotch dive while I’m lying down or standing upright. Even my wife no longer thinks this genital bombardment is funny and she’s a bit of a toughie herself. After all she’s hoping to have a third child one day. At this point it may not be possible. We’ve already seen the potential effects of fertility drugs and in all honesty I’ll bash my own testicles into uselessness before suffering that fate.
The teachers at his Daycare think I’m strange. Every day when I walk into his area and he comes sprinting in to give me a hug, I immediately wince and turn so he slams into my hip or butt instead of my zipper. What a cold bastard, I imagine them thinking. He can’t even hug his own child. However whenever there’s another Dad around picking up his own kid, I often see him look and smirk in appreciation of the tactical move. HE knows. He may use the move himself someday, thanks to me.
Then there’s the look in my son’s eyes when I do stop him. I literally have to catch him by the head and sort of turn it into a fun little, ha ha.. gotcha first little rascal, kind of game. He knows he’s been derailed and he doesn’t care for it. He looks up and with his big blue eyes to match his big head, he’ll say something like, sorry Daddy. I almost hit your pee-pee again. There are even times when I do stop him, and in his excitement he throws his arms past my outstretched arms and hits me, more often then not, in the god damn balls.
Now I’ve been accused of being a conspiracy theorist more then once, but I’m starting to think he understands more then he lets on about what he’s doing. Perhaps this is payback for his old man. That or he’s so unimpressed with life with his younger brother that he’s figured out exactly what he needs to do to prevent another sibling. But how did he figure it out so young? Remember this started as soon as he could walk. He wasn’t even speaking yet when his plans to demolish my reproductive organs began.
I fear the worst is yet to come. This summer will be the first summer we attempt to start playing with balls. No not those balls, but baseballs, footballs and soccer balls. This is the stuff America’s Funniest Home Videos lives for. But this is no act and it’s not worth any prize money unless it’s enough to help me invent a mens cup for casual wear, usable around the house and with pajamas.
His younger brother, who is bigger and noticeably less coordinated, is following in his footsteps. He’s not tall enough yet to reach my crotch with his head if I’m standing. But laying down on the floor playing? Yeah, he has the same nut-seeking instincts that his brother has and then some. Only he prefers to step on them, STOMP if you will, instead of going airborne, swan dive style as his older brother use to do to with Zen-like perfection.
In closing, I have learned to handle my fear and discomfort. I will continue to play on the floor with them both at my testicle’s peril. I will risk my own safety and well being for the sake of paternal bonding and their happiness. It’s a sacrifice I make daily. I just pray that in time they will both outgrown this ability to cause Daddy pain and will simply do the normal things boys do like stay out past curfew, drink, smoke, do drugs and have premarital sex with hookers. Then it’ll be their own balls they have to worry about and I can go back to keeping my hands behind my head full time. Now that’s good parenting.
I make t-shirts for a living. I design them, print on them and sell them online or through other retailers. I recently designed what I thought was a pretty cool superhero t-shirt with the Incredible Hulk, Batman and Wolverine from the X-Men, which are my son’s three favorite superheroes. He also loves Spiderman, but unfortunately he didn’t make the cut on my design.
Now my son’s name is Jack so for the shirt I made just for him, I simply customized the print to read, “Mess with Jack… and you mess with us” and it looked fantastic. I even monkeyed with the format a bit to give it a distinct look:
My 4 year old son was in awe of the print and could not wait to wear it to school the following Monday.
I came to pick him up from his daycare and was anxious to hear how his friends liked the shirt.Â I asked him about it on the drive home, I was a bit surprised when Jack told me that his friends wouldn’t stop touching him and the shirt all day long. Apparently they were also impressed with it they wanted to feel it up close and personal and talk about it. When I asked Jack if this bothered him he said no, which makes sense because he is a total attention hound. The teachers all thought it was hilarious. But then he mentioned the only problem was that there was one boy who insisted that Batman was named “the Incredible Hulk” and this made Jack very mad. Jack knows his superheroes, he has his me to thank for that. When I then asked Jack who the boy thought the Incredible Hulk image on his shirt was, he hesitated in thought for just a moment and then said, “the Grinch.” It was Dr. Seuss week so although it was incredibly incorrect, it made sense – if the Grinch were on steroids and ten feet tall.
When I asked him about Wolverine he said they didn’t talk about him. Apparently they couldn’t get passed the Hulk/Batman debate. Poor kid needs to watch more cartoons, or perhaps mine needs to watch less. Either way my son has a new favorite shirt and I’m the “hero,” … for now
Yikes. I can’t believe it’s been 4 months since I last wrote here. I think the title says it all. I am an ‘overwhelmed Mom’. I take on the traditional wife and Mom role of cooking, cleaning, and being the primary caregiver for our boys. Add a full time job on top of that and I’m plain exhausted all the time.
In part I’ve created this mess. I like my cooking better so I take that on…my husband does try to help out with cooking, but quite honestly I can only eat so many tacos. His kitchen skills are a bit limited. And when it comes to the kids, it just seem natural to do things for them. I get in such a rhythm of dinner, baths, bedtime each night – I forget I have to let others help.
Lately I’ve been taking a step back and making more time for me. My husband happily stepped in and has taken over some of the baths and is helping more around the house. I always just “did it” without complaining so he didn’t realize it was an issue. And I didn’t realize it until I found myself so stressed and was snapping at everyone. That’s not the Mom or person I want to be.
Not only am I happier, but everyone is happier. The kids are spending more time with Dad and Mom is more laid back. It’s a winner. The one thing I do caution though is sometimes bathtime with Daddy can be an adventure!