Storkcraft Crib Recall - speedy response

I, like millions of others, have a crib that has just been recalled. No wonder we could never work that drop-down side correctly! I know there was no way I would be able to drop down that side while holding a sleeping infant and then raise it up again. Since we assembled our crib ourselves (by "ourselves" I mean my husband) there was no way we were going to take it apart to get a new one. We decided we didn't care that the side would only go down with brute force. It never occurred to us that this could be a danger. In hind-sight I should have at least reported it to the company.

On November 30 I contacted Storkcraft via their web site to get my new crib part. I waited a week because the phone lines and the Web server were jammed. My request was easy to process. All I had to know was information that is on the instructions, which is glued on the part of the crib that holds the mattress. I guessed at the date that I got it.

It wasn't impearative for me to get a new side (or a part, as it turns out) right away. Cole is using it as a daybed now. In a few weeks we are planning to move Owen, who is 11 months old, to the crib and Cole to a twin bed. I was hoping to have the part by then.

Much to my surprise, the part and instructions showed up in my mailbox in just 10 days. During that time I was sent an e-mail saying that the company is doing all they can to get the part out. I guess it's unprecedented that they would have such a large recall. 2.1 million is a lot of cribs! If just half of those people ordered the replacement part that is still a lot for a company to do. In just a couple weeks they created and manufactured the part, produced and printed the directions, and began to ship it out. As someone who used to work in marketing I can appreciate the efforts.

Right now Owen is in a mini-crib. He's almost as long as it is! He's going to feel like a small fish when he starts sleeping in a full-size crib!

Isn't the art cool?

Making up stories and other stupid parenting mistakes

Cole loves reading. He won't play with a toy for more than a half second, but he'll read Curious George over and over. He loves Biscuit, quotes Loonette, and will point out if I miss a word in Little Bear Won't Take a Nap. He will insist on leafing through one book while I read another. This drives me crazy. I test him. I will replace "witch" with, say, "ghost" to see if he is listening. Sure enough his little head will pop up and he'll correct me.

Honestly, I love that he reads. I have so many fond memories of getting lost in a book--even as a youngster. I would read The Berenstain Bears over and over, Raggedy Ann and Andy's Rainy Day Circus was falling apart. It's an amazing feeling to get lost among words.

It's a horrible feeling to trip over.

Once upon a time, a very foolish mother made the mistake of deciding to be Super Mom and make up her  own stories. Now she is stuck.

Every night before bed (and nap!) I have to "tell the one about Coco [Cole's story name] and the witch's mask," or "tell me about Coco goes to the bus stop," or "say the one where Coco scares Grandma," and on and on.I'm not a very creative storyteller. I don't think well on the spot. Couple these things with a two-year-old who thrives on consistency and doesn't really want to go to sleep and you got a messy situation.

One thing I've learned to do well is plagiarize. No, not my blog or in my professional life (I am a writer of brochures, web sites and other not-so-literary works). But I will admit to ripping off Mother Goose and Hans Christian Anderson (my favorite child's author!). I do so unapologetically. I can't just keep coming up with masterpieces such as Coco Puts on a Witch's Mask and Scares Santa to please my son. Especially at 8 p.m. when How I Met Your Mother is on.

Anyway, on Sunday night, Cole stays at his Grandma's house. She too has learned to steal from the masters and she made up a story about a little girl named Goldie Locks (at least I change names for Pete's sake!) and the Three Bears. Yesterday afternoon when Cole went down for his nap, he wanted to hear this story. No problem. I start telling the story relieved that I don't have to make anything up. Here is where the consistency thing comes in to play. My version is different than my mom's. This leads to many protests on his part.

Tired and frustrated, he finally looked at me and said, "Stop. I don't want you to tell me about this one  anymore."

I wonder if I start messing up all of the made-up stories if I could get out my role as storyteller altogether? It's worth considering.