toby of the day, 5.8.2008

the women's restroom where I work is just fine. it's reasonably clean, there are usually paper towels, there are even daily attempts by some insane prude to protect us all from any shameful peeping by covering up the 2mm of open space near the door hinges on one of the stalls. overall, I have no complaints. but for a long time, I have been perplexed by the plaque outside the restroom that touts it as a "nationally designated center for excellence". such a moniker would lead me to expect more out of the restroom. like golden toilet seats, or at least hands free faucets. something. fortunately, they recently added another plaque specifying that it is the breastfeeding room accessed from the bathroom proper that is the center for excellence. although, again, I'm not entirely sure what makes it a center for excellence. sure, it has its perks: the dilapidated vinyl furniture is not too uncomfortable, there is a blue checked cotton privacy curtain so you can separate yourself from the people who come in to nap on the vinyl furniture, there’s a dusty potted plastic flower and some wall decorations including "por favor, no fumes" scrawled in sharpie under the window that is too high for anyone to see out of, and of course there’s the hospital grade breast pump chained to the radiator. but I must admit that excellent isn't a word I associate with the room. drab but functional, yes. excellent, not so much.

Whether it was to increase the level of excellence, or just spruce things up, a couple weeks ago, someone brought in some old issues of parents magazine. it turns out that parents magazine is absolutely terrible. it's as though someone came up with a way to merge People magazine and the ubiquitous "what to expect" book series. in case you're unfamiliar with these books, I'll just say that I stopped reading "what to expect when you're expecting" when it told me that I should never eat tempura while pregnant, because it would make me fat, but instead I should get jon to order tempura and ask him for a taste. I proceeded to eat tempura and use "what to expect" to wipe off my greasy fingers. anyway, back to parents magazine. it's full of tips. from how to potty train your child, once you've determined which of their stereotypes your child fits into (is she the "hippie" or the "energizer") to how to have a DIY pedicure party with appletinis for your friends who have never had a martini (I believe there could not be a more sure sign that I am not parents magazine's target audience than an article implying I might spend my spare time with someone who has never tried a martini). some of the headlines on the cover include: "new burping techniques" and "when wipes are just too small". seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up. needless to say, I now read parents magazine every day while I pump. sometimes I even stay a little longer than necessary to finish thumbing through. it's like a daily visit to the dentist, without the sore gums. the video below is the result of this daily investigation. it turns out that one thing 10 month olds are able to do is brush their hair. well kind of anyway. I'm especially impressed because we often don't actually brush toby's hair, it’s pretty much just wash and go. Which makes me think that perhaps hair brushing isn’t learned, but like all those weird newborn reflexes, it’s, well, reflexive. in fact, I think this discovery could be an entirely untapped area of research: the central pattern generator that controls instinctual hair brushing in infants. This could be my big breakthrough, nobel prize here I come. and all thanks to parents magazine. and that center for excellence. boy, they're sure magic.