That’s the message of the PB&J Campaign, which exhorts the environmentally minded among us to pass up the chicken salad: “You recycle. You choose organic. You conserve energy. Now take at-home environmentalism to the next level.”

The idea, of course, is that plants like peanuts and strawberries and wheat take less energy, water and land to turn into food compared to livestock like cows and pigs.

It turns out that every day you eat a PB&J for lunch instead of a hamburger or grilled cheese, you save the same amount of carbon dioxide — about 2.5 pounds worth — that you would if you drove a Prius, according to the campaign. Eating just five PB&J sandwiches a month saves so much water that it’s like installing a low-flow showerhead.

The goal of the campaign is to get people to eat lunches that don’t include meat, fish, eggs or dairy products. Of course, that means any plant-based meal would work the same way as a PB&J. That makes it work even for those families who have a child with a food allergy. In my household, we particularly like humus with cucumber slices as well as tabouli. (As well as PB, of course, as you can see by this snapshot of Pumpkin gobbling a slice of whole wheat smeared with the sticky stuff.)

For those of us who can eat nuts without any side effects except too many calories, PB&J does seem like a friendly food to market as an alternative to the meat-based lunch. If you’re looking for a fun alternative to the traditional PJ&B, you can get some inspiration from the folks at Peanut Butter & Co. in Manhattan. When my husband and I visited their restaurant in Greenwich Village (at 240 Sullivan St.), several years back, we had a lot of fun trying unusual sandwich combinations with peanut butter. Since then, the company has started marketing jars of its peanut butter in stores, so you can try flavors like Mighty Maple, Dark Chocolate Dreams or Cinammon Raisin at home.

What do you think: Are you ready to sink your teeth into gooey goodness to help the Earth?

My ex and I generally break even in that regard, since our custody situation is a 50-50 split. But how many moments have I lost out on? I got the first trip to Disney World and his first pro baseball game; She got his first trip overseas and, last month, his first visit to Niagara Falls, which, while it’s no Disney World, was a huge success with our son. And there are other, smaller moments that I’ve been able to share with him: I took him to his first rock concert and made it to his school talent show, where he played Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” on guitar. My ex has her share of those moments she was able to share with him.

This whole concept came up on our recent vacation, when my girlfriend stood back and observed as her little boy, clutched to her own mother, watched the July 4th fireworks display overhead down in the Carolinas. At 4, it wasn’t his first view of fireworks, but it was certainly a memorable moment. He covered his ears and looked up with a mixture of wonderment and fear. She later told me that she was hit with the notion in that instance that she was missing that moment, so she walked over to her mom and asked to hold her boy. She both soothed him and shared the display with him for the remainder of the show. It was a shared moment she’ll certainly remember, as will he. And it made us think of the firsts and the moments we’ll inevitably miss with both our boys.

Ultimately, the boys benefit from having the experience at all, whether it’s with their mom or their dad. That’s comforting. But it carries a tinge of sadness, that there are times when we won’t be the ones to share the memory. It makes me hope that those parents out there who share all those moment appreciate the value of it.

For me, there’s no doubt how much it’s worth.

This is on my mind because it’s the time of year when, once again, the obligatory warnings about the dangers of the weight of these things are coming out. Consumer Reports, which is published in Yonkers, is way ahead on this issue. In their research, they found some sixth graders carried 18.4 pounds in the backpacks — about 17.2 percent of their body weight. Consumer Reports recommends staying closer to 10 percent of body weight.

What is in these backpacks, anyway? Pumpkin is several years away from homework assignments and all they entail, so I’m operating without first-hand knowledge. But I ask you other parents: Do kids really need to carry every book home, every night? Is that what makes up the load? Or, are your kids carrying mini survival kits on their backs? I know my daughter, given her druthers, would bring half the contents of her room with her in the car every time we leave the house for a half hour. So far, we’ve managed to keep it down to her Elmo doll (sometimes two Elmo dolls), a book, her sippy cup, a baggie of Annie’s Homegrown Chocolate Bunny Grahams and her purple blanket. Are your third-graders carrying their own equivalent of this in their packs? Is that why they are so heavy?

If you are buying a new backpack this fall, Consumer Reports recommends looking for these features:

• Shoulder straps that are contoured and padded to soften the load of the pack on a child’s back.

• A waist belt to stabilize the pack and transfer weight to the hips.

• A padded or quilted back or one with mesh fabric to make the bag less sweaty on steamy days.

• Compression straps on the sides of the pack to tighten a partially-filled backpack.

• Reflective trim on the back and sides of the pack to add visibility in the fall and winter months, when kids may travel to and from school in near darkness.

Here is the special section on back-to-school at Consumer Reports.

I’m thinking about writing a story about the growth in backpack sales and how these have become a must-have back-to-school item. If anyone would like to lend their insight to the story, send me an e-mail at jalterio@lohud.com or call me at 914-666-6189.

Otherwise, comment here about what the heck is in your kids’ backpacks — unless you’ve been afraid to look!

I wanted a different Fourth of July this year, both for me and my immediate family. Instead of visiting my brother’s house for a cookout, why not connect directly to the meaning of Independence Day? It would be educational and inspirational! With my 18-year-old son away for the week and my wife in agreement, I only needed to get my youngest son, who is 13, on board. I’ll get to the bottom line, he insisted wasn’t going. And he wasn’t moved when I said he would always remember the walking tour of “Revolutionary New York,” but wouldn’t remember just hanging out at home (nice try, right?)

Faced with an immovable child, what should we do? We declared our own independence and went on the tour without him. Run by Big Onion Tours, the walk was fun and I learned things about Revolutionary New York that I didn’t know.

(Here’s one piece of Revolutionary lure, followed by book tip for more on Revolutionary New York: Inside City Hall Park, visible from Broadway, stands a tall flagpole that’s wrapped in a series of metal bands. What is it? The pole represents a Liberty Pole that the anti-British Sons of Liberty installed as a sign of defiance. After British troops repeatedly chopped the pole down, the Sons of Liberty wrapped a new one in iron for protection. For a deeper look at the Revolution in New York, check out The Battle for New York by Barnet Schecter. You may be amazed at New York’s role during the Revolution.)

My son survived July Fourth. He watched a movie on DVD for the several hours we were gone. He wasn’t angry when we returned and later we told him about the tour. After dinner we went up on the roof and watched fireworks. What do you think, were we bad parents?

This obsession started in April when I bought her an eclair-style ice cream bar on a whim after an energetic workout at Reis Park in Somers. There is always an ice cream truck parked near the playground there in the warm weather. Well, the tastiness of the treat and the novelty of visiting the truck and eating the ice cream in the car on the way home made quite the impression. And, if that wasn’t enough, she started asking us to read a cute little board book we have at home that’s shaped like an ice cream truck (before this, she didn’t quite get the point of the book).

Now, every time we go to Reis Park, Pumpkin begs for “ice cream on a stick.” Apart from the outrageous cost — $3 a bar — the fact is that these treats are far from ideal nutrionally. Back when she was content with the now-boring ice cream in dish, I bought all-natural ice cream that had ingredients I recognized. But just look at this list from the Good Humor Chocolate Eclair:

INGREDIENTS: ICE CREAM: NONFAT MILK, SUGAR, MILKFAT, CORN SYRUP, HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP, WHEY, MONO- AND DIGLYCERIDES, CELLULOSE GUM, GUAR GUM, POLYSORBATE 65 AND 80, CARRAGEENAN, ARTIFICIAL AND NATURAL FLAVORS. CHOCOLATE CORE: WATER, CORN SYRUP, SUGAR, COCOA (PROCESSED WITH ALKALI), MODIFIED SOY PROTEIN, GUAR GUM, MODIFIED CELLULOSE, LOCUST BEAN GUM, POLYSORBATE 80. COATING: CAKE CRUNCH [BLEACHED WHEAT FLOUR, SUGAR, PALM OIL, SALT, SOY LECITHIN, NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, BAKING SODA], SOYBEAN OIL, COCONUT OIL, SUGAR, CHOCOLATE LIQUOR, DRY WHOLE MILK, SOY LECITHIN, SALT, ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR.

Here is my question: Has anyone ever seen a “healthy” version of an ice cream bar? I did some nosing on the Web and found one company called Mister Cookie Face in Lakewood, N.J., that makes organic novelties under the Woodlake Farms brand. But I’ve never seen them in local stores.

What do the rest of you parents do when it comes to dubious treats like these? And, before you all point out the obvious: Yes, I realize she is 3 years old. No, she doesn’t have her own money. Yes, I do in fact buy these for her. And, no, she couldn’t get them on her own. What, you say? Just stop? Well, it would take a tougher parent than I am to say no to her calls for “ice cream on a stick.” She just loves them too much. My goal is to find a manufacturer who makes these with, oh, let’s say five ingredients total, including milk, cream, sugar and chocolate — and without high fructose corn syrup.

Since we’re on the topic of ice cream, I thought you all might enjoy some links I found in my research. Here is a discussion of the history of ice cream, which has been enjoyed in this country since the days of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson — making it an especially fitting treat for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday. And here is a link to an article in the National Archives on the origins of Good Humor and Popsicle novelties, originally called “ice cream suckers” and billed as a more convenient way to eat ice cream. Pumpkin would certainly agree.

My thankfulness for her presence in my life really came alive last night during the crisis. While I am always grateful when she throws a load of my laundry in the wash, it’s the willingness of a parent to drop everything and come running that makes them so special. I feel for the families who don’t have extended family nearby. Imagine a 3-year-old spending four hours plus in an ER? Yikes. But if my mom were still living in Niagara Falls, we would have had no choice but to bring Pumpkin. It must be even more challenging for single parents without family nearby. What if you are the patient? How can you expect the ER nurse to be a babysitter?

I’d like to invite Parents’ Place readers to share their own stories of events where your parents helped you out of a crisis — and to share how you coped if your mom and dad don’t live nearby or aren’t with you any longer.

I bring all this up because I think parents shouldn’t devalue their own knowledge of their child just because an authority figure, like a doctor, has a conflicting point of view. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I saw a similar speech blossoming last year after Pumpkin passed her second due-date “birthday.” Now, as my growing preemie approaches her third due-date “birthday,” she is having another burst of speech development.

I would invite you to share your own tales of times where mom or dad were right — counter to the prevailing wisdom. (I’m thinking this could apply to anything from advice to hold back or move a child up a grade to whether to continue or discontinue lessons.)

“Everything I’ve said about a mother raising a child alone applies to a father raising a child alone. But often there’s an additional problem. Few fathers in our society feel completely comfortable in a nurturing role. Many men have been brought up believing that being a nurturing person is “soft” and therefore feminine. So, many fathers will find it hard, at least at first, to provide the gentle comforting and cuddling that children need, especially young children. But, with time and experience, they can certainly rise to the task.”

Personally, I’ve never worried about societal stereotypes as a father, and changed plenty of diapers while I was still married. I’ve also always been very warm with my son, and we exchange “I love yous” on a regular basis — something I never got enough of from my own dad. But I have to wonder if I’d feel limited in what I could offer as a parent if I had a daughter. And, generally, I feel there’s more acceptance of a mom playing catch with her son than there is for a dad braiding his daughter’s hair.

The issue is somewhat moot for me now, since I am building a blended family and we have both a father and a mother figure in the house. But I know my girlfriend worried early on that her little boy lacked male role models, as his time with his father was limited. And as a divorced dad, it was something I dealt with when I was single. For instance, when boys reach a certain age their dads seem reluctant to hold their hands while they’re out: Moms do it as a matter of habit.

The wisdom of Dr. Spock suggests that, with time, dads can learn to provide the additional nurturing children need. But is there a line that even the most nurturing dads won’t cross, whether it’s holding hands with an older son or shopping for an American Doll with a daughter? And as for societal stereotypes, what is your reaction if you see a dad holding a 12-year-old son’s hand at the mall?

And I don’t mean arts & crafts for art projects, or books to complete assignments, or visits to museums or zoos to complete written research projects. Those are concrete tasks that you can justify as advancing your child’s education and creativity.

But what’s the educational benefit to cooking three pounds of bacon?

I’m talking about the extra-curricular events like class picnics and holiday celebrations. You know, when your child comes home and tells you he volunteered to make six dozen blintzes, or hard boil 96 eggs, or cook french fries for 40 kids and teachers. A co-worker told me this morning that his daughter committed him and his wife to make fruit salad for 30 kids. She neglected to mention this until this morning, the day of the event. So take a swing by Super Stop & Shop and look for a mom frantically buying up all the fruit.

On my end, my 10-year-old volunteered to cook bacon for the class breakfast today. I’ll give him credit for telling me three days ago, so there was no last-minute shopping. Of course, I made it clear that blueberry muffins or orange juice would’ve been preferred. But the kid likes bacon. And that’s a good thing, because he’ll be smelling it around the house for weeks to come.

Don’t get me wrong: My ex has shouldered her share of these tasks since our divorce. It’s just that the time-intensive — and smelly — ones always seem to land on the days our son is with me. And the thing is there’s more to come, because my girlfriend’s 4-year-old will have to cook up his own batch of bacon sooner or later. Ah, parenting.

But such are the pleasures of a blended family. And it does make us a family, with all the annoyances, burdens and hurdles that come with any family. And that makes it seem less torturous, even if there are a few pounds of bacon here and there.

The point is that the rise in blended-family homes and situations is increasingly obvious. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this means more children are growing up having to make the adjustment, and dealing with a  whole host of emotional issues that come from juggling step-parent and biological parent, step-sibling and biological sibling relationships, etc. Lord knows my girlfriend and I spend a good deal of our time working on that transition for our two boys and discussing better ways to make that smoother. It’s an imperfect—and ongoing—process, and one that more and more other parents are evidently going through.

At least that’s what I found on The Blended Family website, which cites the following stats, for which they credit the U.S. Census Bureau. At some point I’ll have to track down some research on the adaptability of children in blended family situations compared to traditional homes. I suspect it’s like anything parental: If the adults do the right thing, the kids benefit. The shocking thing to me is how often you hear of parents who don’t seem aware of the dynamics inherent in a step-family.

Either way, here are the stats:

• About 50,000 persons per month become members of stepfamilies


• 1 out of 4 children will live in a stepfamily before the age of 18


• About 1,350,000 children will become members of a stepfamily this year:
  55% ~ because of remarriage after a divorce
  15% ~ because of remarriage after a spouse’s death
  30% ~ when a never-married mother weds


• 80% of all divorced Americans remarry and 60% of these will have children from a former marriage

The breakthrough for came with my girlfriend’s little boy. At the end of last week, he shyly presented me with a drawing he did at day care, which consisted of his hand print in blue on a sheet of paper. He also took a pen and tried to write his name for me, and presented it as my Father’s Day present from him. I was blown over.

Then, his dad called us over the weekend to let us know that his son had presented him with a “monkey” that he made in school for Father’s Day. He said, however, that the boy actually made two presents — one for me and one for his dad. Wow.

The significance for me should be obvious. The most important — and hardest — thing for a single parent going into a blended family situation is his or her relationship with their partner’s child or children. For us, it’s been progressing: My son genuinely likes my girlfriend and recently expressed to me, after she and I had a disagreement, that he wanted us all to stay together. It’s not something we contemplated, but I appreciated that he expressed the emotion. It meant quite a bit to both of us.

With her son, it’s been a big more tenuous. He’s younger and still confused by the dual roles that his dad and I play in his life. He understands I’m a dad to my son, and that I’m in a parenting role with him. I have never sought to replace his dad, of course. But it is important that he ultimately understand the nurturing and supportive — and occasionally disciplinary — role that I do and will continue to play in his life. That’s why his gesture on Father’s Day means the world to me.

So, I have no idea what this “monkey” present is, but I imagine it will be one of the most wonderful things I’ll see for some time. The hand-print drawing he made me is already on the fridge, alongside the many projects he’s given his mom, and that my son has given me. The “Green Day” fridge magnets my girlfriend gave my son last year are also there. The “monkey” will have a prominent place on our shelf, just as I will proudly use the leather-bound notebook my son presented me with.

As I said, I don’t want to get ahead of myself. But I’m feeling more and more like part of a family.

Well, the prom came and went, and the 15-year-old did, indeed, attend with the older girl. It turns out that the boy’s mom ultimately had discussions with the girl’s mom, discussed it with her son, and they agreed to the ground rules. So she relented.

How’d he do? Things went smoothly. He was a gentleman, there were no after-parties, and he was home at the agreed-to time. By all accounts, the two had a wonderful—and safe—time together.

So, does this make the concern some of you had moot? Or did the mom dodge a bullet?

It’s basically a collection of tidbits sent out by the U.S. Census Bureau to mark Father’s Day this coming Sunday. Like many holidays, this one kind of snuck up on me because of a hectic work schedule of late. As it turns, out this coming weekend is my ex’s weekend with my son. But, as per our agreement, I’ll get the day with him and if the weather is anything like it is here right now, we’ll be spending a good chunk of it at some body of water or other. Unfortunately, my girlfriend’s little boy gets the day with his dad, so we won’t have both the boys to splash around with.

To be honest, what I’ve always looked forward to the most is whatever arts-and-crafts project my son puts together for me at school. As I sit here now, I’m looking at a pencil holder made from painted tongue depressors that he gave me several years ago. I treasure it almost as much as the mood ring he gave me last year.

Anyway, here’s the Census stuff. Thanks for reading and enjoy:

The idea of Father’s Day was conceived by Sonora Dodd of Spokane, Wash., hile she listened to a Mother’s Day sermon in 1909. Dodd wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart, a widowed Civil War veteran who was left to raise his six children on a farm. A day in June was chosen for the first Father’s Day celebration — June 19, 1910, proclaimed by Spokane’s mayor because it was the month of Smart’s birth. The first presidential proclamation honoring fathers was issued in 1966 when President Lyndon Johnson designated the third Sunday in June as Father’s Day. Father’s Day as been celebrated annually since 1972 when President Richard Nixon signed the public law that made it permanent.

64.3 million
Estimated number of fathers across the nation. Source: unpublished data from the Survey of Income and Program articipation

A good place to buy dad a tie or a shirt might be one of 8,685 men’s clothing stores around the country (as of 2005). Source: County Business Patterns

Other items high on the list of Father’s Day gifts are tools such as hammers, wrenches and screwdrivers. You could buy some of these items for dad at one of the nation’s 14,257 hardware stores or 5,925 home centers (as of 2005). Source: County Business Patterns

23,195
Number of sporting goods stores in 2005. These stores are good places to purchase traditional gifts for dad, such as fishing rods and golf clubs. Source: County Business Patterns

More than 74 million Americans participated in a barbecue in the last year — it’s probably safe to assume many of these barbecues took place on Father’s Day. Source: Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2008

159,000
Estimated number of stay-at-home dads in 2006. These married fathers with children younger than 15 have remained out of the labor force for at least one year primarily so they can care for the family while their wives work outside the home. These fathers cared for 283,000 children. Among these stay-at-home dads, 60 percent had two or more children, and 40 percent had an annual family income of $50,000 or more. Source: America’s Families and Living Arrangements: 2006

25%
Among the nation’s 11.3 million preschoolers whose mothers are employed, the percentage who are regularly cared for by their father during their mother’s working hours. This amounted to 2.9 million children. Source: Who’s Minding the Kids? Child Care Arrangements: Spring 2005

26.5 million
Number of fathers who are part of married-couple families with children younger than 18 in 2006.

Source: America’s Families and Living Arrangements: 2006

2.5 million
Number of single fathers in 2006, up from 400,000 in 1970. Currently, among single parents living with their children, 19 percent are men.

Source: America’s Families and Living Arrangements: 2006

85%
Among the 30.2 million fathers living with children younger than 18, the percentage who lived with their biological children only. In addition, 11 percent lived with stepchildren, 4 percent with adopted children and fewer than 1 percent with foster children. Source: Living Arrangements of Children: 2004

31%
Percentage of custodial fathers who were due child support. They numbered 678,000. Source: Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support

$2.4 billion
Amount of child support received by custodial fathers in 2005; they were due $3.3 billion. In contrast, custodial mothers received $22.4 billion of the $34.7 billion in support that was due. Source: Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support

43%
Percentage of custodial fathers who received all child support that was due, not significantly different from the corresponding percentage for custodial mothers. Fathers received an average of $6,210 in child support in 2005, compared with $5,981 for mothers. (These figures are not statistically different from one another.) Source: Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support

36%
Percentage of custodial fathers with child support agreements or awards. Source: Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support

72%
Percentage of custodial fathers receiving noncash support, such as gifts or coverage of expenses, on behalf of their children. The corresponding proportion for mothers was 59 percent. Source: Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support

30%
Percentage of children younger than 6 living with married parents in 2003 who ate breakfast with their fathers every day. The corresponding number for children living with unmarried fathers was 41 percent. Source: A Child’s Day

64%
Percentage of children younger than 6 living with married parents who ate dinner with their fathers every day. The corresponding number for children living with unmarried fathers was 66 percent. Source: A Child’s Day

63%
Percentage of children younger than 6 living with married parents who were praised three or more times a day by their fathers. The corresponding number for children living with unmarried fathers was 57 percent. Source: A Child’s Day

I remember the moment my long-simmering (but still mild) dislike of my daughter’s pediatrician boiled over into actual antipathy. We were discussing Pumpkin’s milestones at her third birthday checkup when the doctor asked if she moved into a bed yet. I said no, and added that Pumpkin loves her crib and hasn’t even tried to climb out. (And this is a child who loves to climb everything else.)

The doctor’s reaction: “Most children have moved into a bed by age 2.”

My response, with an attempt at humor: “I can’t even imagine what her room would look like in the morning if she could get up whenever she wanted. Clothes and diapers would be everywhere, and she’d probably sleep on the floor or in her glider.” Said with a smile and chuckle.

The doctor’s response: “Well, she’s going to have to go into a bed eventually.” With zero (0) humor. No smile. She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was being sarcastic.

I should have replied with something like: “Oh, really? We were hoping to keep her in the crib until college to save money on a new bed and sheets.”

But that would have been the end of our doctor-parent relationship, and I am not 100 percent certain if it should be over. Now, let me say, if this was the first instance of us disagreeing, I probably would let it go, but it’s not. Just for instance, here’s another priceless exchange from the same visit:

Doctor: How much milk does she drink?

Me: About 9 ounces in the morning. She won’t drink milk later in the day, except chocolate milk, and even then, she’ll drink perhaps a half-cup. She really doesn’t like milk or even yogurt.

Doctor: She should be drinking three to four cups a day! (With a look that suggest she thinks I’m either stupid or negligent.)

Me (silently to myself): What do you want me to do? Have you ever tried to make a toddler eat or drink something they don’t want to consume? (For the record, we have this milk conversation every time we have a checkup.) Out loud, I offered that she eats cheese. To that, the doctor replied: “Doesn’t all that cheese make her constipated?” (I never said it was a lot of cheese!)

But even these disagreements — and even her sanctimonious attitude — wouldn’t get under my skin so much if there weren’t a bigger problem: She doesn’t seem to “get” that Pumpkin is a preemie.

Our first pediatrician, who was recommended by the doctors at the White Plains Hospital NICU, was terrific. He seemed to really understand the unique needs of micro-preemies like Pumpkin, who weighed just 1 pound, 13.4 ounces at birth. He was extremely cautious when it came to Pumpkin’s health. He ordered her to avoid public spaces and to stay away from all children, even her cousins, until she weighed 15 pounds. (A milestone she didn’t reach until shortly before her first birthday.) She had monthly shots of vaccine for RSV during her first winter. For you non-preemie parents, RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) is unpleasant but not an emergency. For preemies, it’s a big deal. I appreciated his personal attention. I liked the way he plotted Pumpkin’s growth on a preemie growth chart targeted to her week of gestation at birth. I was very sorry when we had to switch doctors because we switched insurance.

Our new doctor dismisses every attempt I make to talk about Pumpkin in the context of being a preemie. Last year on Pumpkin’s second birthday, she was unhappy with her speech development and suggested an evaluation, adding that we have to judge her by her birth date rather than her due date. The speech therapist disagreed and gauged Pumpkin’s development using her due date, which is a full three months later than her birth date. She turned out to be ineligible for services because although her expressive abilities lagged, her receptive speech was actually ahead of the curve. Perhaps not so amazingly, come August of last year, just after her due date birthday of July 27, Pumpkin’s speech blossomed.

So, this year again, the doctor was unhappy with Pumpkin’s speech, adding, “Most 3-year-old girls are chatterboxes, and she hasn’t talked to me at all.” Well, Pumpkin takes a while to warm up to strange people, and what kind of pediatrician judges people this way? She’s never met a shy child before? I shared the story of what happened with the evaluation last year, including the details of the speech boom in August. Her reply, given with obvious irritation: “Well, you can wait until July, but that’s only two months, and I doubt it will make a difference.”

Plus, she only charts Pumpkin’s growth on the regular chart, where her weight is in just the 10th percentile. I’d like to know how she measures up to other preemies born in her week of gestation, but I can’t find out at that pediatrician’s office. (Parents of preemies: Do you have this problem, too?)

So, what do you all think I should do. I started writing this post as a sort of “Can this doctor-parent relationship be saved?” Maybe it’s really a “Dear Joan” letter.

The hard part: How do you pick a new doctor?

Parenting books often have advice about choosing a pediatrician, suggesting that expecting parents interview potential doctors much like you are a boss hiring someone for a job. Has anyone actually done this? Are you expected to pay for the doctor’s time in these cases? Insurance sure isn’t going to cover it, and I’d be surprised if doctors are so eager for patients (especially the potentially cranky kind that demand pre-visit interviews) that they are giving their time away.

How did you choose your pediatrician? Do you like him/her? Has s/he ever said anything that made you want to wring his/her neck?

(Also: Out of curiosity: How old was your child when you moved him/her into a bed? And was it because of a new sibling? I find it hard to believe that “most children” are in their own beds by age 2!)