What's in Shiloh's Nursery?

Access Hollywood ran a bit on what Brad and Angie got for Shiloh's LA nursery. Apparently one of the items for The Chosen One is the Angel bassinette . Which is a piece of furniture as frilly, girly, and over-the-top silly as they come. Now the report may very well be, and probably is, untrue, but it got me thinking. This is a guy who named his child after modernist architect Jean Nouvel. A dude with excellent taste in design (if not women) and the money to back it up. So what's with the Gone With The Wind bassinette? Has Brad succumbed to Cutesy Parent Syndrome?

You know what I'm talking about. Basically anything from the baby department at Sears, WalMart or The Bay. Tumbling teddy bears, smiling suns, friendly lions that ROAR, bows for girls, trains and cars for boys. Ugh. You get the idea. I realize that sometimes there is simply no option. My two-month old bobs about in a bouncy seat so hideous (it was a gift!) that I hide it when company comes over or when I'm caffeine deprived. Yes, there are better looking alternatives, the lovely and delicous Oeuf, comes to mind, but why do they have to be so insanely pricey? Sure I could dig deep, lie to my husband and fork over $100 bucks for a stylish baby seat, but I won't. I just can't do it.

Are the only options ugly or prohibitively expensive? Where's the democracy in design? Why can't a mainstream manufacturer like Fisher Price offer an alternative to the blight in my living room that is their unnerving electric blue, yellow and orange-patterned bouncy chair? Say a nice heavy canvas twill in mushroomy brown? Oh, that's right. Oeuf did that, but it's $70 more.

Back to Brad. If he did succumb to Cutesy Parent Syndrome on the bassinette, won't someone from Ooba rescue him?

Bonjour 2006

OK, so truthfully New Year celebrations barely registered at the honeybunch household, what with strep throat and being 6-months pregnant and all. But last night at precisely 7 p.m. the urge to "put away" Christmas struck and, after a feverish couple of hours spent tissue-wrapping glass baubles, playing toss/keep with the stack of Christmas cards (graphic appeal not sentimentality being the deciding factor) and sweeping up the blessedly few needles our pricey-but-worth-it Fraser Fir shed, I'm ready for a bright, shiny and clutter-free 2006.

Yes friends, it's time to Buttigieg. Kid Clutter. We all have it. The random plastic toy parts, long separated from the actual toy, a colony of stuffed animals, abused, er loved, picture books with split spines and soggy pages, Doctor's kit implements rendered useless by illicit playdough usage. Before you know it you've got a major problem.

While the search continues for the perfect (functional, good-looking and less than $300) storage system, here are my favourite, tried and tested clutter control tips:

The 10-minute Tidy
Corral the kids & the husband/wife and set the kitchen timer or, more fun, blast a The O.C. soundtrack for 10 minutes while you tackle the most offensive area of the house. You'll be surprised at how much a lightning round of cleaning can accomplish.

Don't Ask. Just Rid of It.
Trade with a neighbour, take it to Good Will or donate it to the local daycare. The point is, don't ask your toddler which toys they're willing to part with. You know what the answer will be. My 3-year old developed an unnatural attachment to the bottom-half of an empty plastic Easter Egg when she thought I was going to toss it. They'll never miss it.

You Can Never Have Enough Rubbermaid.
After a teary episode following the discovery of a painting in the recyle bin, I no longer try to filter the profusion of artwork that accompanies my daughter home from daycare. I stock up on big bins at Canadian Tire's 50% off Rubbermaid sale every few months and stash it all away -- to be dealt with another day.

Have a Garage Sale. Inside Your House.
This turned out to be genius. When it all just gets to be too much, ask junior to collect toys and clothes he's outgrown (calling it stuff "for babies" works well) and let him organize and display his For Sale wares. Parents shop and "buy" from the motley selection. The best part? You don't even have to use real money while they're young. If it sounds a bit, well, sneaky, assuage your guilt with a new, age-appropriate gift at the end of the sale.

The Matching Game
My crafty husband came up with this one. Have a competition to see who can match up the most pairs of socks the quickest.

Have a seat

How many pretty little reno'd semis in High Park have a $35 foam Dora the Explorer sofa lurking in the living room?

In a city teeming with stylish moms and their equally stylish minis, why oh why is good design for kids so hard to find? If, like me, you live in a smallish house where every square foot is accounted for, relegating offending kids' gear to the rumpus room simply isn't an option.

Which is why I was delighted to come across these grown-up kid-sized club chairs and immediately had to have one for the little girl (and the living room).

Fast-forward one year and the chair looks every bit as good as the day it was bought. Our chair has been through two birthday parties, a rambunctious holiday open house, a kid-filled summer soiree, not to mention numerous visits from the kids across the street and the occasional adult mistaking the chair for a grown-up perch--without ill-effect.

Having passed the three-part mom test admirably (functional, good price, longevity), I have just added the entire Toronto-designed range, which includes a sofa and ottomans, to my site.

So no more Dora the Explorer couches, OK?

My vote for most ridiculous product

Normally I'm all about discovering and sharing great new products, but every so often I come across someone's idea of a "brilliant" idea that strikes me as simply ridiculous. Now, I'm a fan of whimsy--in small doses--but I have no time for silly. And is there any other word to describe these breast-feeding burkas A.K.A. "nursing cover-ups?"

Touted as the modest woman's solution to public nursing, I cannot believe that a baby head's held against his mother's chest would garner more attention than a three-foot span of fake Pucci fabric knotted around the woman's neck like an oversized lobster bib. Aesthetics aside (momentarily) I admit I have no personal experience with these contraptions, and perhaps they come with an instructional video, but does this look like it's going to make anyone's life easier? I needed three hands and a convex mirror to figure out the breastfeeding thing. I can't imagine the contortions required to do it undercover and besides, isn't it really hot under there?

My guess is if a woman's uncomfortable breastfeeding in public (count me in) she'll go to great lengths to organize her day so she's in a quiet place at the right time And doesn't that really make this bib, er, nursing cover-up completely useless?