I have the day off with my girls and we are at the Minnesota Zoo. It is the first week of summer vacation and it’s as if all of Minnesota has descended on this patch of savannah/rainforest/prairie/desert.

Everybody’s smiling and pointing out the grizzly hiding behind the rock (I’d hide too if I were her) and the wild boar splayed out asleep in the afternoon heat. (Give the poor pig some privacy.) Everybody is so happy.

Everybody except me.

I like zoos. I do, I do. I love Como Zoo, which is nice, small, manageable in two easy hours. Including a stop for mac and cheese at the cafe. I even like the stinky giraffe house.

But the Minnesota Zoo is so big. And there are so many non-zoo things. Like a water park and an archeological dig/sand box and a playground. I consider all of these things perfect as single outings. Just not all together. And not in a zoo.

The archeological dig is an inspired idea, really. Kids dive right in and are shoveling away, unearthing bits of dinosaur bones. Trouble is, then you have to coax them out. All around me, parents are yelling at their kids, trying to get them to leave and move on. There’s so much more to see and it’s all really far apart.

Ditto the playground.

And what’s with this non-animal?

So onward. We spent four hours there altogether. It feels like eight if you’re pushing a double stroller. And that was just the outside areas. No dolphins, imax theater or indoor tropical animals.

The girls had a great time, despite their grumpy mommy. Of course we’ll be back.

We have to. We’ve got annual membership.

 I got in this morning to this e-mail rant from Kara McGuire, our fellow Ka-blogger.

She continued: “And what kid who is young enough for an Elmo doll really “wants” any toy unless their parents or commercials influence them? This is one of those NYT stories that seems written just to bug me.”

Here’s the story that got Kara all steamed up:  “To Buy Children’s Gifts, Mothers do without…”

Lately, I’ve struggled to come up with things to say on Cribsheet. (What, you think this is easy? Just ask Ann Z…. )

Should I link to that NYT piece on home births in tiny New York apartments? (Reminder: tell your neighbors in advance so they don’t start worrying when they hear muffled moans and screams through the walls) Or that piece about how the older you get, the harder it is to keep off the love handles? (Like Michelle Slatalla, I too have given up the daily glass of wine at dinner for calorific reasons. Like her, I have embarked on a serious exercise regimen, including training for a 25k race. And like her, I have lost the grand total of one pound. Unlike her, I do not wear Spanx.)

What about that new web site my co-worker Tom heard about at an event last night? Called Tumblon, it helps you track your child’s growth and development.

All great topics…so why is nothing grabbing me?

Driving in this morning, listening to job loss numbers on MPR, I finally figured it out: I am just obsessed with the economy.

Each day, I listen in rapt attention as talking heads pontificate on how bad things are. Is it as bad as 2001? Or the early 80’s? Or, gasp, the Great Depression? Whose job is going to be cut next? How’s all this going to affect my family?

We’ve talked about this at home. My husband Chris has done an audit of our spending and decided that with a little discipline and not too much pain, we can slash our food bill way down. He’s planning the week’s meals in advance now and shopping more at Cub, instead of running out to Lund’s at the last minute. I stack less on my lunch tray at the cafeteria these days. We’re not eating out as often; the weekly jaunts with the kids to D’Amico’s are now a distant memory.

Like everyone else, our retirement savings got bashed. Like everyone else, the value of our house plunged. So far, our household income remains the same. But you can’t help but think, what if?

We even went on a Staycation (stayed for a Staycation?). Last weekend, for my birthday, my mother-in-law (aka The Saint), took the girls so my husband and could celebrate. But instead of driving or flying somewhere, we stayed home and just had a nice time in town.

We watched a one-woman show at the Lab Theater in the warehouse district, Rene Foss’ “Around the World in a Bad Mood” (it was fine, but I think you have to be a flight attendant to really identify. Instead of, say, hapless passengers.) We went to the Nagisa Oshima film fest at the Walker (b/w, violent, mystifying, come to think of it, perfectly appropriate recession viewing). We swam and worked out at the Y. And we went shopping at Rosedale Mall for the first time. (It was packed. Don’t these people know there’s a recession going on?)

Okay, now I’ve got that out of my system, I can go back to blogging about babies. What’s that new web site again?

Cribsheeters, are you feeling the effects of the economy? What are you cutting back on?

Cribsheet reader Barb recently sent an e-mail that struck a chord with me. Here’s Barb’s note:

Over the weekend I found out that my good friend had her baby. The best part, I found out via her husband’s live blog on Twitter.com. I think this is definitely a first for me, to find out about a birth via not just the internet, but a father live blogging the details from the delivery room. We knew how far her contractions were, when she was fully dilated, about every hour we had an update all the way to “BABY IS HERE”.

Not sure if this is something that could be a post for you blog, but it certainly sparked interesting discussion at our dinner table. How has technology changed the way we know people, see people’s lives, learn about life events?? From a phone call, to email, to a blog post, now to a live web update from the delivery room via his cell phone. Wow!

- Barb

I must say I’m fairly new to Twitter. (for other newbies: think micro blogging) I was recently out with group of friends for appetizers before a concert. One was twittering away on his Blackberry throughout the evening. I accused him of twitter-bating and said “Really? Really? Do people out there really want to know your random thoughts and observations and comings and goings every 12 minutes ?” Apparently so. Of course, I immediately realized how hypocritical that must sound as a blogger. Do people really care about my random thoughts, observations and comings and goings? But I said - “Hey - how about being present in the moment and sharing those random thoughts and observations with us. These friends who are right here. Live. In front of your face?”  bitter.

When I read Barb’s e-mail - I did think yes,  what a great way to keep everyone in the loop immediately on the good news.  

BUT on the flipside I would’ve been more than irritated at my husband if he was tweeting away that I was “dilated to 8″ when really - he should be by my side letting me dig my fingernails into his forearm.

Again. How about being present in the moment?

And birth is a pretty momentous moment.

I’m not totally twitter bitter - I think it has it’s time and place. Recently there were a lot of interesting “tweets” from the Olympics from those who were there. The key is you can choose to follow them or not.  

How has technology changed how you communicate and keep in touch as a parent and how do you keep information overload at bay?

Here are my recent trivial shopping cart tribulations.

Two separate shopping trips.

Two separate shopping cart troubles.

It all stems from the fact that Vivi’s grown out of her  “car seat baby bucket.” That baby bucket  - the reason for many visits to the masseuse. Those awkward seats can really throw you off kilter.  But I have to say, that thing clicked into just about any shopping cart like a charm. Now I’m finding that not all stores can accomodate a sitting baby and a toddler for strolling in a cart.

#1) I went to Kowalski’s recently to pick up some things for a BBQ. It’s a smaller store so they don’t have those awesome “car” carts to stroll around in.  What to do?  They did have mini shopping carts - so I attempted a maiden voyage. Ben - pushing a cart by himself in a well-appointed grocery store. Let’s just say- not. a. good. idea. This fan of Thomas the Train thought it would be a good idea to shunt everything and every display in his way.  (”Shunting” is one of the new train terms I’ve learned from the Thomas series. File it under words that sound dirty on the Island of Sodor that aren’t…)  He started by shunting the cart right into my Achilles tendon.  Ow. Then he shunted the personal size watermelon display. Luckily none came toppling down. Oh, this was going to be a difficult grocery trip. We made it out alive, especially after the nice baker came up to Ben and offered him a cookie. This distracted him enough to make it through the checkout line. Thanks nice baker lady!

#2) My next shopping cart tale came from a trip to Super Target for much needed diapers.  I had gotten used to grabbing those monsterous extended shopping carts  that accomodate Ben sitting down in the toddler seat and clicking Vivian into the handlebar area.  So my first trip to Target sans baby bucket was surprising.  I found the enormous shopping cart as usual but was shocked to find the area where she was supposed to sit and dangle her legs was screwed shut with a piece of red plastic. All of the big carts were like that. (I don’t know why. I’ve asked many a Target customer service rep and they shrugged their shoulders. I’m assuming it’s a safety issue). Which is fine but -  there I was holding a baby with no place to put her.  I wasn’t about to turn around and leave. I needed those size 3 Pampers Cruisers, and I needed them now!

Yes, I did consider putting Vivian in the front and having Ben tumble around freely in the cart. But there was a little sign with an “X” through a  picture of that very scenario on the front of the cart. I didn’t want to break the rules.

So being a mother of invention - I found a solution and managed to look like a complete idiot while doing so. I put Vivian in one cart feet dangling and Ben in another - got between the carts and pushed one while I pulled the other behind me. I think I took up an entire length of a shopping aisle as I plodded through the store.  Being a SuperTarget, I had to walk nearly a quarter of a mile to the furthest corner of the store to aquire my box ‘o diapers. Cardio requirement for the day. Check.

So lessons learned - no individual pint size carts for Ben, bring the double stroller, call in back up support, or best case scenario - shop alone whenever possible!