I’m a sucker for cute kids’ boutiques and since opening in the fall, I’ve been keeping my eye on Bird by Bird in Inman Square. Originally debuting with a modest selection of products conjuring a bit of a spare, upscale boutique feel that intimidated some readers who wrote in, Bird by Bird has since impressively expanded its offerings to feature an array of stylish products from both national and independent (including local) designers; the shop now feels decidedly warm and welcoming. Some particularly cool finds include an impressive, hip collection of screen printed and appliquéd tees and onesies (various designers), beautiful mixed fabric creations from Lorna Lowe Custom Couture and Beary Basics, and the snuggly soft hoodie cardigans by Angel Dear. Apparently, they also have started carrying the stylish, locally crafted baby slings by gOzOzO, in designs exclusive to Bird By Bird.

Bird By Bird also periodically offers programming such as fitness and baby signing; click here for their latest announcements. They also have future plans for an online store.

Bird By Bird, 1361 Cambridge Street, Cambridge; Tel: 617-497-1361

Sorry, I was so distracted this morning by the pot-smoking toddlers that I forgot to mention I'm now a contributing editor for BlogHer in the mommy & family category! Hooray!  Here's my first post. I'll let you know when I post there.

I'm sure you've all seen this story about two teenaged boys who taught a two-year-old and a five-year-old how to smoke pot.

I saw this news story last night while my beloved and I were making tacos and discussing the little angel's day.  (She had a good one, but as usual when she has a good one at school, she falls apart when she gets home. I've been told this is quite normal, so we send her to annoy the cat.)  I nearly dropped food on the kitchen floor. 

I don't know where to begin. 

We all fear our teenaged kids will discover pot.  I actually anticipate this happening. I've seen that commercial where the parents practice role-playing how their daughter will scream at them and slam the door when they tell her not to toke up with her friends.  I've heard of colleagues who got the call from school when their children's stash was discovered. Or whatever.  And really, though I don't approve, I do think teenagers are going to be just a new brand of challenging, whether it's pot or alcohol or steroids or extreme dieting or really just skateboards.  But teenagers, though still children, have grown a little closer to developing their brain cells more fully and are usually at their adult height.

Two-year-olds and five-year-olds are not.  No toddler walks down the halls at daycare and thinks about how he can sneak a smoke on the potty chair.  No five-year-old wants to resist authority to the point of buying a dime bag.  This situation involved teenagers - those very challenging teenagers - using their own bad judgment to the detriment of somebody else.  And they don't even probably realize just how wrong and scary it was.  I'm sure they don't realize that every parent in America almost threw the fuck up when he or she saw that news clip, because we, as adults, realize just how goddamn fucking stupid that decision was - that decision that was obviously made more than once, because those little children inhaled without any encouragement or coaching.

They were apparently charged with a third-degree felony.  My beloved and I both say lock them up.  For the most part, I don't believe in criminalizing marijuana for personal use.  I don't believe in giving a small-time drug offender a worse sentence than a rapist.  But any time someone fucks with a two-year-old and a five-year-old, they should be given a very stiff sentence.  They need some time, in a very small, very dark, very stinky room to sit and think about how they very well could have ruined some young child's brain, some young child who trusted them.

I am disgusted. 

It's probably safe to say that most people love adorable little mice in all forms other than as real, breathing critters. These days one of our favorite books is Ellen Stoll Walsh’s Mouse Paint ($5.95 at Amazon). This beautifully illustrated board book tracks the adventures of three white mice who, when not hiding from the cat, have a grand time showing you what they’ve learned about color mixing. There’s even a bit of dry humor included for parents.

Jon and I currently are on a mission to develop a weekly dinner plan that: a) is simple and tasty for adults and kids; b) takes the ambiguity out of who’s doing what (we recently discovered I was assuming full responsibility for – and withholding bitterness over – meal prep on top of work and juggling Laurel at the end of the day); and c) gets more vegetables into us. If we get a good plan sorted out, we’ll be sure to share it; meanwhile, we have discovered how effective an excellent, simple vinaigrette is to inspiring salad consumption.

One batch of Martha’s Favorite Vinaigrette and many salads later, we're still in awe of this beautiful and easy steak Cobb salad (click thumbnail to enlarge image), in which we tossed chopped iceberg lettuce with vinaigrette, then layered cherry tomatoes, hard boiled eggs, seared steak strips, cashews, bleu cheese, and avocado over the top (dried cranberries also would make for a nice color and flavor contrast). The steak – and a side dish of pomme frites – warmed up the salad for winter (chicken or marinated tofu also would sub in well), and the presentation projected a culinary mindfulness that largely has been dormant since we embarked on the parenting journey.

We are full-on into the world of potty-training.  The little angel requested to go to The Emerald City in her Cinderella underwear on Friday.  She made it through the day with only two accidents. The afternoon teacher told me this was something akin to running a marathon after having done a 5k, so we decided that she should wear underwear pretty much all the time from now on.

And thus began my adventure.  Right after I picked her up on Friday, we went to Target, because we have fascinating social lives.  I was looking for a padlock that could save my beloved computer backpack from the dustbin. It's the perfect backpack, JUST the right size, and though I and many of my envious colleagues have searched the Internet high and low, no one can find one this small.  So when the clasp broke during my business trip, I knew I would have to find some way to save it without buying a new one.  My salvation came in the form of an oddly shaped padlock that will be replacing the broken clasp.  People will think I'm a total idiot or impossibly hip. 

Anyway, this whole padlock-comparison affair took so long that when the little angel announced she had to pee, we were at least 200 yards away from the restroom.  "Let's run!" I cried.  "You can do it!"  So there we were, sprinting across Target with the little angel howling, "I can't hold my pee in!  I can't hold it, Mommy!" I refused to carry her, because, well, I'm evil and didn't want to be covered in urine.  By the time we reached the restroom, I could wring out  her little sweatpants.  She made a valiant effort, though, and I was not upset with her.

Until she locked herself in the bathroom stall with my purse in there with her when I went to wash out the cuffs of her sweats in the sink and left her sitting on the potty.

And then she crawled off the potty and stuck her head under the door. "Hi Mommy!" she chirped.  Then she crawled out of the stall.  I'm not sure how she got the door locked.  I had to shimmy under it to fetch my purse.  I guess I shouldn't have worried about being covered in urine, because, at least in my mind, I was anyway, along with who knows what else a swab test of that bathroom floor could find.  GAH GAH GAH

After all that, I headed into Saturday with a little fear in my heart.  She made it through all day Saturday, even when she screamed in terror after we took her to the new dinosaur restaurant out west (it's like the Rainforest Cafe, except with frighteningly realistic dinosaurs).  My beloved kept insisting she'd be okay, though I had my doubts.  Not two minutes inside the restaurant, the dinosaur dropped his head, opened his four-foot mouth and gaped at the little angel, fixing her with his mechanical eyes.  She screamed like a banshee. "He's going to eat me, Mommy!" she cried.

I pulled her off to the side, taking my beloved's name in vain. Of course, he was parking the car and not there to witness the event.  I reassured her that the dinosaur was just Roar's older brother, and he didn't mean to scare her, but he was just, so, well, BIG, just like the baby whale in the Ariel story.  Remember how the whale ruined choir practice with his big voice? This is just like that!  (In the background, the dinosaur roared again and I damn near wet MY pants - I couldn't even watch Jurassic Park with surround sound.)  In the midst of all this drama, it occurred to me that the little angel might have wet herself.  "Did you pee?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Not even when Roar's brother tried to eat me."

"Good girl," I said.  "You'll be very good at slumber parties."

We ended up taking her to Dave & Buster's, a Chuck E. Cheese for adults.  The little angel, as it turns out, is a game addict.  But still, no accidents. Not one in the three hours it took us to get in, eat, play games, fight our way through the Lord of the Flies ticket redemption center, and walk out with a large stuffed dog and a flashing princess necklace.

Sunday she made it through church, lunch and a nap before we went to the park.  She rode her tricycle around the park, drunk with speed, until we said it was time to go.  She threw a fit. After two days of relentless urine inquiries and restroom locating, I admit, I was at the end of my rope.  I still had to turn-down chocolates from the hotel in my pocket.  They were shaped like little stars. I held one up.

"If you can get in the car and go to the grocery store without complaining or crying, I'll give you this," I said.

She agreed, and she made it. I gave her the chocolate.  Such a waste. It was good chocolate, and the little angel, she has such low standards.  As she inhaled it, she looked at me and said sweetly, "I like this chocolate.  I don't even have to sleep all night to get this kind."

Just because tees are an inevitable part of the mommy wardrobe doesn’t mean you can’t hang onto your sassy style.

Tuni & G offers comfy clothing for babies, kids, and adults (including maternity); among their collection are separates that can be paired to create punchy Mommy & Me sets. Especially cool is the My Baby Rolls/My Mom Rocks set (piece prices range from $28-36). Available in various sizes, styles, and colors, the logos are constructed entirely of chic pressed stud embellishments. We also love that this style offers a “My Grandma Rocks” baby/kid onesie or tee to honor hip and stylish grandmas.

Given my obsession with ballet flats, I was thrilled to see StyleBakery’s round up of 8 ballet flats under $60. I immediately ordered the Old Navy Satin Ballet Flats ($19.50), and they're fabulous. Word on these elegant, impressively comfortable flats clearly is spreading. There was plenty of stock when I ordered a pair in chocolate last week; now chocolate is sold out and the two remaining colors are following suit. Click quickly to get a pair!

Meanwhile, if the satin flat ship has sailed in your size, you'll likely find consolation in Old Navy's new Leopard Ballet Flats (shown; $19.50); they don’t appear to offer the cushioned foot bed of the satin flats but the styling is too cute to pass up.

Back in the fall we reported on the fresh and functional layette collection at New For Baby. We're thrilled that New For Baby is bringing their smart, stylish designs to Boston Mamas for our March contest.

One winner will receive a New Stylin' gift set in their choice of boy, girl, or unisex ($76 value). The set includes a long sleeve bodysuit, short sleeve bodysuit, low rise comfort pant, and super soft cozy hoodie.

Click here to enter to win. This contest closes at midnight on March 31, 2007, and is open to US & Canada residents.