The research found that children not facing the person pushing them were significantly less likely to talk, laugh and interact with their parents.

Based on a study of 2,722 parents and children, the study by Dundee University’s School of Psychology calls into question the designs of many of the world’s most popular baby strollers.

“Our experimental study showed that, simply by turning the buggy around, parents’ rate of talking to their baby doubled,” said developmental psychologist Suzanne Zeedyk, who led the research.

Zeedyk’s study, published by British charity National Literacy Trust, included an experiment in which 20 babies were wheeled in buggies for a mile, spending half the trip facing their parents and the other half facing away,

Parents using face-to-face strollers were more likely to talk to their children, who were less likely to exhibit signs of stress, the study said.

“Our data suggests that for many babies today, life in a buggy is emotionally impoverished and possibly stressful,” Zeedyk said.

“Stressed babies grow into anxious adults.”

Anyway, this morning I was dropping the Binja off at day care and over heard a conversation between daycare worker and another parent.

“So, are you ready for Christmas?” the daycare worker asked. “Have you even begun shopping yet.”

“Well luckily, I don’t have to worry about that this year. The boys will be with their dad.” She replied. “I will have them next year for Bobby’s 2^nd
Christmas. That will be more fun anyway.”

Hmmm…My initial reaction was…”WHAT?” I realize that not every divorced couple is as cooperative as my ex and I, but come on. Not doing anything for your kids just because they are “not with you” that day is not ok. We always try to share the day. And even if I didn’t see Jack at all on the 25^th, we would still find a way to include him in our Christmas.

Of course, I don’t know the whole story. Maybe they have other issues that would keep them from being able to work something out. I really can’t fathom what in a divorce situation would keep you from getting a gift for your children. Even if it’s just stocking type stuff. Socks. Something.

Am I being too judgmental? Is there something I could be overlooking? AND, why would you say that out loud? Want to know what I heard?

“I’m a selfish parent who is dumping all gift responsibilities on my good for nothing ex. Why should I worry about it?”

What strength and courage. What wisdom out of the mouth of a baby. I have no words to describe how this made me feel, only that I wanted to share.

Again, I really try yo keep my political views off this page, but this is rediculous. I would have egged the crap out of this woman’s house back in the day. Trick or Treat…no treat…you get the trick.

Bet her family income is over $250,000 a year…Just saying.

I was looking forward to going trick or treating with the boys, but the Binja came down with an ear infection. He stayed at home, in his “Dread pirate Binja” costume that his Aunt Ra got him.

I was really looking forward to the hoards of trick or treaters that would flood the neighborhood rich with kids and line up at our well lit front door. We didn’t decorate much, but we did have a ghoul in Jack’s window and a Jack-o-lantern in the kitchen window. The last house we lived in, we had no visitors. I wanted this year to be different. So as Jack and I headed out on our rounds, I was really hoping that Sarah would have a great time with the ghost and goblins of the hood.

Jack and I had a good time…went to about 20 houses and a pretty good haul. I saw a lot of campaign signs on the way, mostly for McCain. (We live in a red state, so I expected as much) We went to every house with lights on…that’s how I roll…then headed home.

“So…how many guests did you have?” I asked as we got home.

“Four”

“What? I saw a lot more than that walking around.”

“Well…they would get about halfway down our drive way,” which is about 10 yards long, “the parents would see our Obama sign, and turn their kids away.”

Now, I haven’t mentioned politics much, if at all, but this hacked me off. I am a equal candy opportunity kinda guy. I could care less who you are voting for. And, what does that teach the kids? Talk about being judgmental. Wow.

I mean, yes, I did put the slow working anti-McCain poison on all the candy, but it only works on adults. No children would be harmed…until the vote republican when they hit 18…then they drop dead at the polls.

But wait, we live in the Trophy Generation. Everyone must get a trophy and be told how awesome they are. It’s like all those kids I grew up with who were always coming in 2^nd place grew up scarred. They now raise kids and want them to always feel good about everything. So we are having a game for 3^rd and 4^th place. Really? Why? It’s not like a bowl game where the team get’s scholarship money or national air time. It’s just a way to make parents pay 4 bucks a head to come in and watch their Johnny play for a non trophy…trophy.

Back in the day, when I played 65 pound football…using an oval shaped stone for a ball…we lost every game. Only scored twice the entire season. And we learned from that. I realized then, I could do my best, and still get kicked in the teeth. It didn’t hurt my ego, it made me want to be more of a team player. Help the other guys. Get better myself and drag them with me, win or lose.

What am I proud of the most? Even into the 4^th quarter, when we were losing and couldn’t do anything to stop it, my son was positive. He continued to jog on and off the field. He kept trying to pump up the team.

Now, everyone must get a trophy. A “Thanks for participating, gee your swell” trophy. So, Saturday we play for 3^rd or 4^th place. Talk about a great motivation for the team. “We’re number…3!”

I have this gift for saying just the right thing to ease my wife’s fears. Tony started his new Day Care yesterday. Admittedly, I was worried just as much as Sarah. Mostly ungrounded, but anxious none the less. I worried if he would be confused or afraid. I worried that they wouldn’t click with him the way some of the teachers had at the previous school. I worried he would be ignored of forgotten because he’s such a laid back baby…like what happened at the previous school.

I took him, as I normally do. At the same time…right after “Curious George” goes off. I had tons of baby stuff…diapers, wipes, clothes, bibs, food…and the Binja. We arrived, and I introduced myself and Tony…and his AFO. The girl, Tiffany, seemed a little apprehensive about the brace. But after I demonstrated how to put it on him, and he demonstrated how cool his is about the whole thing, she was fine. A few more pleasantries…and a trip back to the house to get something I left there…and he was on his own.

I worried all day (don’t tell Sarah). I wanted to call, but as a former teacher, I knew I had to trust them…and be ready to knock heads if they screwed up.

I got home, and the first thing I heard was that little happy shrill. All the worry went away. He had had a great day, and the teachers were already in love with him. That’s my boy.