Must Love Babies

Toddler and Preschool Lunch Ideas

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I feel like we've been in a lunch rut lately. Josie eats a PB&J on whole wheat with either a yogurt or a banana every day. I mix it up a little more for Caroline, since she is a better eater, but both girls could use a little more variety and some exposure to new foods.

So, armed with pen and paper, off I went to the internet. After doing a quick Google search, I landed on lots of blogs with ideas for healthy toddler/preschool lunches. Well -- links to ideas. Then if I clicked on the link, it took me to a list of other links, and so on. I started to get annoyed. Seems like some mommies had a case of Lazy Blogger syndrome! In my frustration, I decided to create a post myself about healthy, budget friendly toddler lunch ideas -- ideas that shy away from most processed kiddie foods -- and post a list (not endless links) on my own blog! I am not reinventing the wheel here... just compiling a list of good ideas in one place.

So, without further ado, I present to you: LUNCH.

(Ok, maybe a teeny bit more "ado." In my search for ideas, I came to realize that there doesn't have to be an "entree" (like a sandwich) with a couple smaller sides. You can really mix it up tapas style and have lots of choices, but in smaller portions, on one plate, or you can combine everything into one dish. The key here for me was to open my mind as to what my kid's plate can look like.)

And now: LUNCH.

• The classic PB&J. Boring I know, but you can't NOT have it on this list. You can make it cute by cutting it into shapes, strips, or using a cute little contraption like this Munchkin 3 Piece Silly Sandwich Cutter Set.
• Veggies (think grape tomatoes, carrots, cucumber, broccoli, cauliflower, red pepper etc.) and ranch or catalina dressing
  
• Veggies and hummus
• Cut-up pita bread or unsalted pretzels and hummus
• Fruit salad with yogurt dip
• Peanut butter and banana on whole wheat
• Veggie & Cream Cheese "Pizza"
• Cottage cheese w/ fruit
• Grilled cheese w/ ham (or turkey)
  
• Grilled cheese w/ tomato
• Cucumber and cream cheese on whole wheat toast, cut into bites
• Grilled chicken and cheese quesadilla (add some small veggies too!)
• Olives (yes, olives!) (but remember to remove the pits)
• Rainbow fruit on skewers (this is a HUGE hit at our house, but can get pricey)

       

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• Turkey and cheese roll-ups (just turkey, cheese, a tortilla and a thin spread of cream cheese or dressing
• Watermelon, cantaloupe or honeydew cut out in letter shapes with this Ateco 26 Piece Alphabet Cutter Set
• Zucchini-Blueberry Muffins. These are VERY good.
• Grapes and cheese plate - try a couple varieties of each to broaden their palates!
• Trail mix - raisins or dried cranberries, chocolate chips, almond pieces, dried apples, banana chips, cheerios, goldfish crackers, etc.
• Macaroni and cheese with small pieces of lightly steamed broccoli mixed in
• Orzo and tomato sauce with spinach mixed in
• Veggie burgers (no bun) w/ ketchup for dipping
• String cheese cut into "coins"
• Chopped salad (romaine, hard boiled egg, cucumber, tomato, shredded cheese, small bites of broccoli all tossed lightly in salad dressing)
• Scrambled eggs w/ cheese (add in peppers, tomatoes, broccoli, etc.)
• Baked zucchini chips or sweet potato chips
• Tuna w/ diced cucumber and tomato in light mayo, served with whole wheat crackers
• Pickles, cheddar cheese cubes, whole wheat crackers
• Blueberries dipped in vanilla yogurt, then frozen on a cookie sheet
• Frozen grape halves (or quarters for littler ones)
  
• Deli turkey or ham, rolled up and sliced, with tomato and cucumber "salad"
• Whole wheat crackers with Laughing Cow cheese spread (or peanut butter) and yogurt
• Edamame (add a little pinch of salt if necessary)

Kids won't eat fruit in the raw? Try making them a smoothie to drink with yogurt or milk, frozen blueberries, bananas or strawberries. You can even add a handful of raw spinach leaves and I PROMISE YOU they will never taste them. Recipes abound on the internet but here is a popular one for a Banana Blueberry (shhh... Spinach) Smoothie.

Nut allergy (either in your child or his/her classroom)? Try soy butter, it's really pretty good.

Got a kid on the go? Just grab a leakproof, flat container with a snap-top lid and some reusable muffin liners (like these Casabella Silicone Muffin Cups) and you'll be good to go for your own Bento Box!

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What else do you put in your toddler or preschooler's lunches?

Parting (With a Pacifier) is Such Sweet Sorrow

                                Josie with her favorite NUK pacifier

One of the most terrifying moments in a parent's life happened. The moment you dread, brainstorm about, have nightmares about, bite your nails down to nothing over. We made the decision to permanently remove our daughter's pacifier from her sweet little face.

"Uhhhh, yeah!" you're thinking, right? She is three after all.

When she was about two and three-quarters, we talked about ditching the wasa (her nickname for the pacifier, stolen from her older cousins). We didn't come up with a definite plan, but we discussed it. Two days later, I took the girls to Old Navy to fill in a couple tiny holes in their wardrobe, and Josie had a complete meltdown. I'm still not sure why. But thank all that is holy that I happened to have her pacifier in my bag, and that solved the problem. And simultaneously fueled the fire of that other problem -- the child that is too old to have a pacifier and her complete and utter dependence on it.

To our credit, we had been pretty good about not allowing it unless it was naptime or bedtime, or in situations where Josie was just straight up beside herself with melodramatic tears/grief. The latter occurred only infrequently. Old Navy was one of those, but even the fact that I had her pacifier with me was kind of an anomaly. A very lucky one.

But we realized in that annoying, maturing parents way that we had to literally pull the plug. We hadn't committed to a date though. One night at bedtime, we couldn't find the wasa and Josie was a little unhappy about it, but she was still holding out hope it would turn up. I really couldn't find it. I was waiting for a freak-out. Instead, she climbed into bed, still sort of wondering if I would recover it but overall very accepting. I was taken aback. Stunned, even.

(I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, "oh ok, so she used this opportunity to break away from the pacifier!" WELL NO.)

Right as I picked up the blanket off the floor to tuck her in, the wasa fell out and onto the floor. I looked at it. I looked at her. I looked at it. I looked at her.

She didn't see it.

(You: "Oh, ok HERE is where she kicks it under the bed casually and says, 'goodnight, darling!'" WELL NO AGAIN.)

Friends, I am not sure what happened, but almost in an out-of-body experience, I reached down, grabbed the pacifier AND HANDED IT TO HER. I don't know why I did it. It was like I was the one that was feeling panicked about her not having the pacifier. I think I felt bad for her or something. I'm not really sure. But I handed the frigging thing to her, kissed her goodnight, then came out to the couch and wondered what the hell I was thinking.

Long story short, I decided that I had to right that wrong, so the next night I claimed we couldn't find it. I wasn't even sure I was going to stick with that story, I think it depended on her reaction. She whined, but I explained that it was ok because she was three now. She whined some more, so I added that there was a baby that lost her pacifier and she was crying, and since Josie was such a big girl, we gave the baby hers. She actually kind of came around to that idea... she didn't like it and she did protest, but I think she could relate to that concept. That said, she did wake up crying over the next few days, but the crying got less and less as each day passed. The last couple nights there has been no crying.

I can't believe we waited so long! Once in a while she will ask for it, but she quickly remembers the situation and says, "no wasa for Josie." Overall we are very VERY pleased.

Let me state for the record that I am not a fan of forcing the situation if your child is very young and genuinely reliant on the pacifier. I have read where some parents want to get rid of the pacifier as young as 3 months! My personal feeling is that it exists for a reason -- to comfort and soothe the baby, and I don't see any benefit in forcing them to part with something that makes them feel better. Having said that, in our case, Josie was now three and had certainly developed other methods for soothing herself, she was just falling into old habits by using the pacifier, and we were letting her. Developmentally, she truly didn't need it anymore, so we knew it was time. That time will be different for each child and family. I realize we are kind of late to the party, but Josie has done everything late and I am a huge proponent of letting kids be kids and not rushing them into the next phase of development.

If you think your child is ready to break free, here are some other ideas for pitching the paci:

• Poke a tiny pinhole in the nipple. This reduces the appeal of sucking on the pacifier and may make your child lose interest. But make it a tiny pinhole people... you don't want the thing to start breaking apart and cause a choking hazard.
• Trading up. The idea is that your kiddo chooses a toy to trade his/her pacifier in for.
• Binky Fairy. Same idea as trading up, but complimented with an elaborate story of babies who are in desperate need of pacifiers. The Binky Fairy takes the pacifier for the babies and leaves a small token of her appreciation under the pillow or somewhere in the bedroom, along with a note of thanks.
• Wean your child off the pacifier. Reduce the time he/she can use it a little bit at a time until they pretty much don't have it at all, then take it away fully.

A few things to note: if your child is talking with a pacifier in his or her mouth regularly, put a stop to that. If it happens regularly, it can actually change your child's speech, both by reducing the amount of verbal communication produced and by changing the mechanics of how he or she produces letter sounds, creating a possible defect when the pacifier is not in the mouth. Additionally, if your child is chewing on the pacifier, time to take it away. Josie had actually begun to chew little holes at the base of the nipple, creating a choking hazard. Lastly, that fact about pacifiers giving your child "buck teeth?" A myth! The prevailing opinion from pediatric dentists nowadays is that unless the pacifier is used to excess, it does not change the position of the teeth nor does it affect the palate. Typical bedtime/naptime pacifier use will not have a negative affect on your child's teeth or bite.

Here is a link to an article on taking away the pacifier with some helpful tips for those struggling with it. Good luck!

To Potty Train... Or Not To Potty Train.

That is the real question.

Recently, my husband and I decided it was time. Time for potty training.

Around Christmas, I bought a little potty for Josie on a whim. I got her a very cute potty book, A Potty For Me by Karen Katz, one of her favorite authors. I bought her nine pairs of Gerber training pants for her Christmas stocking. Made her a sticker chart. Read everything I could find online about potty training. I was motivated. Nervous, but motivated. She had begun telling us when she had a dirty diaper (though not when she had a wet diaper), and I was ready to face the challenges potty training brings. After all, Josie was two and a half, around the time most kids start. She was interested in the potty, and she catches on to new things quickly. We were ready. Right?

the picture that will surely embarrass Josie in about 10 years

Mm, not so much. Things started out alright. She was fine with the underwear, fine with sitting on the potty, and she LOVED the book. We had her sit on the potty first thing in the morning, then right into her underwear for the day. The plan was to sit her on the potty every 30 minutes to an hour to have her "try." Eventually, she would go in the potty, she'd get a sticker, she'd be thrilled and would want to do it again and again. She'd start telling us she had to go before actually going, we'd calmly head to the bathroom each time and we'd be well underway. Solid plan.

But as the saying goes, we make plans and God laughs.

Josie was cool with sitting on the potty, even several times a day. We'd read her book on the potty, sing songs, talk about colors and shapes, name things we saw in the bathroom. We'd sit and sit and sit. And nothing. would. happen. Then, late in the first day, a miracle: she stood up, and the potty was a tiny bit wet! It is supposed to play a little song when she goes, but it wasn't enough for the potty to even register that there was anything there. I shook it until the song played, made a massive deal of it -- to the point where I felt like a freak, but it was worth it to see her broad smile and little dimples. She got a sticker for her sticker chart, and I even gave her a bonus sticker to wear on her hand. She told Daddy and he acted wildly ecstatic too. We were both thinking, YES. This is it, we're cooking now! The beginning of the end of diapers for Josie!

Well, long story short, over 5 days time, she never went in the potty again. What she DID do was pee in her pants and cheerfully tell us, "Pants wet, change pants? Nice, different pants?" While it was clear she didn't want to hang out in her wet pants, she didn't seem bothered in the least by the process. After 3 days of this, Dan and I began worrying that this was what she thought we were training her to do. To pee in her pants and then tell us. She was VERY successful at this. I dare say she was becoming proud of this accomplishment.

So, after another day or two, some discussion between us and some consult with my sister (who has trained two girls of her own), we decided maybe she wasn't 100% ready after all. While she was enthusiastic about the potty, she didn't seem to be aware of the feeling she had to go before going, and I suppose that is pretty key in toilet training. We made the tough decision to go back to diapers (which was totally cool with her, by the way - maybe another sign she didn't quite get it) and figured we'd try again in a month or so, or whenever her readiness has increased.

So, the downside is we are still very active Pampers customers. The upside is that I don't have to worry about clothing changes and wet store floors, extra laundry and setting timers to remind us to try to potty. For a while, anyway!

New Year, New List

A new year has brought a whole new category of resolutions for me: kid resolutions. This is kind of a foreign category to me. For years my list was populated with the typical "lose weight," "exercise," "make my bed every day" type self-promises, but now I have two whole new people to make resolutions for. Because I am just that much of a control freak.

So without further ado, here are my resolutions for my girls (and I say MY resolutions because my husband vehemently refuses to participate in resolution-making):

• Plan menus and cook more. Doing this means less scrambling and feeling guilty for less than stellar meals. No more Kraft singles, m&ms and a vitamin for dinner!
  
• Get organized. I seem to spend a lot of time rearranging piles when the kids knock them over, looking for misplaced pacifiers, frantically realizing we are out of size 3 diapers, things like that. Being more organized will help me spend more time with the family and model being calm and collected instead of panicked!
• Clean the house regularly. I'm sure some of you are pros at this, but I am not. I regularly choose to play with the kids or sit down and relax for five minutes instead of picking up the mop, and that needs to change. I don't need a sparkling clean house full time, but I can certainly do better than I am doing now.
• Improve upon kids’ diets, eat at 6 p.m. sharp. Caroline likes just about everything, but for the sake of simpicity, she is often fed whatever Josie is willing to eat, which isn't much. That's not fair! So we will be buying a wider range of foods for her to eat (and I'm gonna have to get off my butt and make multiple meals) including things her parents won't even touch! No need to stifle her love of grape tomatoes anymore, she'll have the most varied diet of anyone in the house. Plus they take forever to eat, and bedtime seems to be too close to the end of dinner, so making it a bit earlier will allow them more down time (and digestion time) before bed.
  
• Get more control over money. Little unnecessaries add up. That's money I could be putting away for their college, or at least for training pants.
• Get a job. Yes, I am a stay at home mom, and yes, that is very important to me. But let's face it: money is important. Not to buy stuff, but to buy options. Money can send my kids to preschool. Money can buy us an occasional mini-vacation with our family, giving the girls experiences they can't get elsewhere. Money buys admission fees to museums and zoos, organic foods, sports registration fees, music lessons, etc. Having a ton of money is so not important to us; having enough money absolutely is. So that means I have to go back to work, and try to focus on the nice, long time I was able to stay home with the girls instead of my leaving them. And that is all I am going to say about that, because if I keep going, I'm gonna cry.
• Potty-train Josie. She is finally showing signs of readiness. We are go on the potty, we are go on the potty literature, we are go on the training pants. We are still waiting on my courage to show its face. It's so funny how once the kid is ready, the mom suddenly isn't. But in this next week or two, it's go time. Literally.
• Less tv, less computer, more music. I often have the tv on in the background for noise. I don't even notice it, but Josie evidently does, because she has the State Farm commercial fully memorized. THIS IS BAD. I would much rather have her memorize the words to "Box of Rain" or even some Barney song. Electronics in general, except those required to play music, need to have a smaller role in our house. (Said the blogger on her laptop, blogging while the TV is on mute and her husband is perusing his iPad.)
• Much less cursing, none in front of kids. Pretty self-explanatory. Josie is smart enough to repeat choice things at appropriate times, Caroline just repeats everything at all times. Danger!
  
• Be positive and thankful for what I have. There are just so many dang times when I focus on the stress of having two toddlers, the messiness, the clutter, the challenges. I really need to remember the big stuff... the fact that I even have two toddlers when so many people struggle to conceive. The fact that I have TWO of them from just TWO pregnancies when so many pregnancies end in miscarriage. The fact that those two girls are (knock on wood forever) healthy and issue-free. The fact that we have a home of our own, however small and squishy. The fact that I have an AWESOME husband who is not only gainfully employed but committed to supporting his family economically and emotionally (no small feat some days). The fact that we have fabulous families and two cars that are both paid off and in good shape and a sweet dog and we live in a safe neighborhood and we have heat and clean water at our disposal and... well I could go on and on. There is so much to be thankful for, I sometimes feel so stupid for stressing over the little things. I need to keep perspective!

I hope you all have a ton to be thankful for as well, and while there is nothing wrong with lamenting once in a while, we should use it as a tool for self-improvement rather than a complaint board whenever possible. Hence, the New Year's Resolutions! I have ten more just for me, but the list above is much more important. I hope to accomplish them as the year rolls on!

Those Terrible, Traumatic, Torturous Twos

This blog might be called "Must Love Babies," but no one said I had to love toddlers.

My friend Karen loves toddlers, two year olds in particular, and she has a motto: They're not "terrible" twos, they're TERRIFIC twos!

I have a motto, too, it's called Punch Karen in the Face.

See the sweetness? Look out, it's a trick!

My oldest daughter, Josie, who is about to turn the big 3-1 (in months), doesn't know it but she is thisclose to being sold to the gypsies. She is killing us. I know, the terrible twos and I should have been expecting it and all that, but oh the humanity. She is a ball of emotional barbed wire right now and she's blowin' like a tumbleweed through our tiny house every single day. You have to constantly be on the lookout, ready to jump out of the way when she comes rolling into the room.

As I type, she is fake crying in her crib, trying to get either me or her father to come in, at which point she will request the "black pillow" (no such thing exists in our house). We will tell her to get over it, re-tuck her in, and leave. She will fake cry again and when we go in, she will indicate her pacifier is behind the crib. We will retrieve it and re-re-tuck her in. She will cry again and this time she won't like the Christmas lights that are glowing through her closed curtains. Or maybe she will insist we close the door, and when we do, she will insist we keep it open. Or maybe she will be hot, or cold, or thirsty. Or maybe she will want the stuffed animal dog that sits on her bookshelf, and when we give it to her, she will realize she really wanted the stuffed Clifford the Big Red Dog, and when we switch it out for her she will remember she actually wanted the stuffed animal dog that sits on her bookshelf.

She has temper tantrums and throws herself on the floor and turns herself into a rag doll when you try to pick her up. She doesn't want her sister to have ANYTHING; every single toy, book, stuffed animal, crayon or anything else that is remotely fun is HERS and even if she is buried under every other toy in the house, if she sees her sister about to touch the last lonely unclaimed toy, she throws a fit because don't you people get it?? It's HERS!

She will only eat chicken nuggets, yogurt, fries, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, pancakes, bacon, blueberry waffles, oatmeal, french toast, some fruit and salty snacks. She refuses any food that could be construed as anything other than what I just listed. If you try to get her to eat other foods that any normal child would BEG FOR (like grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, candy, cookies, ice cream, you get the idea) she says, "no? ok." and you better believe the conversation is over.

She is destructive. She is less interested in playing with the hundreds of items that make up her play kitchen, that would be boring! She wants to systematically trash the kitchen by flailing her arms back and forth in the vicinity of the kitchen until there is nothing left on any surface. Then, instead of playing with the pieces or picking them up and replacing them, she simply leaves the room. At some point, you decide to pick up each individual piece and lovingly replace it in its rightful spot, foolishly thinking modeling the desired behavior will adjust her perspective. What you don't realize is that your arch enemy must be spying on you around the corner, laughing dismissively on the inside, and within 90 seconds your little 2.5 year old tornado will be back, destroying what you have just painstakingly recreated.

mmmmmmm puzzle pieces

She chews on the corners of her books. She rips pages out, then hands them to you and says, "mommy fiss it (fix it)." You do. You tape it perfectly back in place. She smiles sweetly, sits down with her new fissed book, and rips out a different page.

She tells you no when you give her a directive, she selectively ignores you, she undermines your authority by requesting time out, she runs away from you, she kicks at you, she throws the things you ask for on the floor as if to say, "there ya go, there's your precious sunglasses, go get 'em if you want 'em so bad." And then when you go to reach for them, she stomps on them. (Ok, I made that last bit up, but it honestly wouldn't surprise me if she tried that one, too.) She's mean and cruel and exasperating and exhausting.

Just when you are ready to throw in the towel and spend the rest of your life drunk and oblivious on the couch in your bathrobe while she does whateverthehellshewants, you do something smart for the first time in all this chaos: you attempt to seek understanding.

This is what I did. I googled "my toddler is making me want to kill myself crazy" and I got a bunch of hits that were actually helpful. I have decided to include a few light reading links for anyone else who may be going through toddler hell:

How to Discipline During the Terrible Twos

Handling the Terrible Twos, Threes, Fours

Why Are Two-Year-Olds So Difficult?

Getting Through the Terrible Twos

There is some good info in those articles, as well as some piece of mind. I don't know about you, but it makes me feel validated (read: better) to know that it is NOT just me or my kid, that others go through this exact same thing. Even just that knowledge buys me a little bit of patience when dealing with Josie. But the biggest thing I took away from reading these articles is that NO, she doesn't hate us and she doesn't just want to make our lives wretchedly horrible; she is really going through something that is just as hard on her as it is on us. That her fits are really internal struggles. That she does want to make us happy but she also wants to make herself happy, and those things might clash and she doesn't know how to handle it yet. Empathy is going to be my best weapon in fighting these battles, I think.

Which is not to say I have it all the time. I am still working on remembering to be "understanding" when Josie is trying to kick me in the face in a rage of hot tears, but hey,  practice makes perfect.

Maybe I'll have perfected it by the time she turns three. Just in time for her sister's turn.

Mean Daddy.

My last photo series of Caroline made me think of an old photo series of Josie I had on my old blog from when she was about a year old, so I decided to add it to this blog, too, because it makes me laugh:

 

 

 

 

 

The ironic thing is her shirt says, "my heart belongs to dad!" Ha!

The Faces of a Tiny Beggar

Hi Daddy, what's that ya got there? Why, is that cheese? Oh. I love cheese.

 

Did you hear me Daddy? I said, "I love cheese."

 

Are you about to put away that cheese???!?!?

 

Are you closing the package?!?!? Remember when I said I LOVE CHEESE?!?!?!

 

Are you re-opening the package? Because I do, Daddy, I LOVE cheese. A LOT.

 

Gasp! Is that piece of cheese FOR ME?!?! Really?!? Oh Daddy, you're the best!!

 

mmmmmmmmcheeeesenomnomnomnomnom

The Fruitless Pursuit of Perfection

Before I became a mom, I was always under the impression that motherhood would bring out the supreme perfectionist in me. I always had those tendencies anyway, and I figured having children would prove to myself what a showstopper I could be. Ha!

Let me paint the real picture. Each day, I start out with my mental list of things I will perfectly and effortlessly accomplish. Playing with my kids, of course. Educational play (puzzles, ABCs, numbers, etc.). Arts and Crafts. Outdoor play. Baths. Vacuuming. Reorganizing closets. Dusting. Gym. Bathe the dog. Cut her nails. Put banana bread in oven. Bathe myself. Shave legs. Mend broken and ripped books. Play with dog. Make bed. Laundry. Organize coupons. Pay Bills. Post on blog. File old bills. Read to girls. Paint toenails. Start dinner.

Instead, a day often goes as blissful as this: Wake up. Feed the girls breakfast (it was supposed to be oatmeal, but Eggo waffles are faster). Check Facebook. Spend 20 minutes convincing Josie that pears are delicious. Eat Josie's pears while she scrambles down from table. Play with girls. Check email. Realize it is way too late for a bath for the girls and give them the old washcloth spritz. Drag everyone to the gym. Realize I am sweating and tired and I haven't even worked out yet. Back home, late lunch for the girls. Jam them into a nap and get a shower. Hmm, maybe now might be a good time to brush my teeth, seeing as it's 2 p.m. Check Facebook. Turn on Bravo. Damn, it's Millionaire Matchmaker, Plan B. Go to put a load of laundry in, realize there is still wet laundry in the washer from 3 days ago, rewash. Feel guilty that I haven't formally walked the dog in like 2 weeks. Did I eat lunch yet? Eh I'll just wait for dinner and eat this, uh what is this? Oh ok a Twizzler, sounds good. Crap, I didn't take the chicken out of the freezer. Looks like it's frozen pizza night. One of the girls is up early from her nap, great. Sit her down to paint but she just gets paint all over her white shorts, which irritates me, so we color instead. Now the other one is up. Early. I need to make myself some coffee. But I didn't eat so I'll get too shaky. Maybe I should check Facebook again. Ok, tackle those coupons. The short baby gets in my coupons and messes up my piles. Then the bigger one grabs my scissors and runs (yes, runs. With scissors.) away. Hubby will be home any minute and the house looks like Fisher Price had an exploding baby with Melissa & Doug. Dog whines to go out. I should probably go to the bathroom myself before I wet my pants. Instead I look up recipes for healthy crock pot dinners that I will never make. You know, on that off chance I can find a last-minute, inspired recipe that involves peanut butter and deli ham, because that's all we have that is not frozen solid. Too late. Hubby comes home and the guilt of having done nothing I planned on sets in.

Wow! Look at those paragraphs! The last paragraph is way longer and looks like I got a lot more done than the paragraph before it. Alas, there be-ith the rub. I manage to do less in more time than my perfect mom-counterparts do in far less time. I wonder: is it me, am I not cut out to stay at home with my children? Am I too ADD to manage it? Is my problem that I take on too much, or I don't write my list down, or that I let my kids distract me, or that I hate pressure so I don't even try? Is it really true that the path to hell is lined with good intentions? Am I going to hell??

Here is what I have determined so far. Yes, I think it is true that there are those moms out there who are super organized, efficient multi-taskers, proactive think-aheaders, can tune into multiple streams of stimuli at once, and can look good and have makeup on and jewelry besides.

Then there's me. Though I think I have a TON of room for improvement, I do think I am a pretty decent mom. I try to let my kids be who they are without too much interference. I try to be laid back. I try to instill in them respect, manners, courtesy, empathy, kindness. I play with them, read to them, wrestle with them, let them pretend to put makeup on me, sing to them endlessly. I make sure they are clean (at some point) every day, fed, clothed in matching (or at least not clashing) outfits, nails cut, teeth brushed, happy. I remember their short little pasts fondly -- and a little tearfully sometimes -- and I plan for their futures. I try to keep their present fun, exciting, stimulating and full of love. And I do it all looking rough, feeling scattered, and inside a house that needs a good once-over with the old Hoover.

And those perfect moms? Sure, they exist. They in their matchy matchy outfits, Starbucks latte in hand at the playground, Janie and Jack-clad kids playing gleefully. The ones with the best tasting, low-calorie-though-you-wouldn't-know-it dinner in the crock pot at home and a fresh baked dessert on tap for after. The ones that effortlessly wallpapered their giant laundry rooms while their 2 year old twins napped peacefully. The ones who actually have energy left for their husbands at night and keep up on all their correspondence with college friends and make their bed each morning and blog weekly about their latest (completely inventive) craft and get four workouts a week in and volunteer at their kids' preschools. Those moms. I used to hate them, but I am learning to not care and compare so much, and soon, I hope to admire them.

Admire them in a distant, passive way, that is... as I change my kid's disposable diaper on the grass and scratch what's left of my toenail polish off as my daughter eats a stick that no doubt some drooly dog left behind. My smiley, sweet, filthy daughter. I'll take it.

Raise Girls, Not Princesses

photo credit: GoodMorningAmerica.com

This world is effed up sometimes. As great as it is, there is so much to worry about (all brought to light once you have children, it seems)... chemicals and hormones in our food, germs, supergerms, childhood obesity, the recession, education, the cost of childhood sports, the lack of art and music exposure, is my kid getting enough vitamin D, you name it. But lately, I guess because I am the mother of two girls, there is one that has been nagging at me really bad.

It all started with a conversation my sister and I had about the whole Disney Princess superbrand. She was surprised at my reluctance to allow my girls to have anything Disney Princess and asked me what my deal was. It was hard to put into words, really, because at that time my oldest was maybe 18 months and I hadn't really had the opportunity to sit back and think about why I had such a visceral feeling of ickiness whenever I thought of Disney Princess and my kids in the same breath. I think I mumbled something about overcommercialism and a corporate empire and I'm sure she invisibly rolled her eyes and we moved on.

Those words I semi-commitedly uttered that day were true; there is something just dead wrong about turning to the Disney megamachine for all things creative and fun. On its face, there is really nothing inherently wrong with Disney and its endeavors... it's when you look at everything together that it becomes a little insane. I will save this topic for another day, because there is just so much to cover to make my argument. But now that I have had more time to really process why I had such an issue with Disney Princess, I have an even bigger reason to consider.

I want to first say that I am not trying to villainize those sweet Disney Princesses. This isn't an anti-princess rant. It is an identification of a problem that I see recurring in the culture of girlhood, of which Disney Princess is a big part of for many. I keep seeing these awesome little girls give up being tough, rad, smart, bold and curious in favor of being pretty, diva, perfect, grownup and sexy. Yes I said sexy.

I have spent the better part of my life hanging out with small children. I started as a babysitter as many girls have, then on to daycare, I was a nanny for three awesome girls (and one charming boy) and finally was a Kindergarten and preschool teacher for several years. I have met some truly cool kids in all that time, and no joke, they have taught me so much and prepared me for motherhood in ways I could not have imagined. But in that time I have also witnessed girls with SO MUCH to offer become caught up in the pretty princess trap.

Now I am not the evil stepmother hating on the princesses over here. I have no issue with dress up, playing in makeup, hair bows, etc. I am just saying there is a difference in using those things creatively for fun and relying on them to feel pretty or to feel good/better about yourself. I want my girls to put just as much stock and value (if not more) in examining butterflies and doing math as they do in what they look like. The typical 5 year old girl should not be overly concerned with how they look. They should still be in that blissful state of relatively low self-consciousness! They should not know what eyeliner or extensions or botox or Sketchers Shape Ups are. They should not walk in high heels better than I do. They shouldn't wear pants with words across the butt. They should not want teeth whiteners. They should want to race their friends, do puzzles, paint, dance, be silly, snuggle with their parents, read, build with legos, make cookies, make funny faces, swim, sing (age appropriate) songs, smell flowers, pet animals and rave about how their teachers know everything.

There is so much fodder for the anti-sexy-little-girl argument, but here is one example from my real life. When I was a teacher, a girl came in to school with a new haircut after the holidays. She looked like a different kid; it was this little pixie haircut and she looked very cute. One little boy said, "you look hot!!" She was confused. I was grossed out. I asked him what he meant by "hot." He immediately got embarrassed and said he didn't know. I asked him if he meant she looked hot, like, not cold? He said no. I asked him if he meant hot like spicy food is hot? He said no. What did you mean then? He said, "I guess I meant her hair looked nice." So I replied, "ok, then maybe you should say that, because that makes much more sense to me and is way more respectful." He sheepishly looked at her and said, "umyournewhairlooksnice" and she smiled and said, "thank you." And inside I cringed for every 5 year old boy who didn't know how inappropriate "hot" was and every 5 year old girl who would ever be flattered by it.

There is this awesome website I came across called Pigtail Pals. The women over there are on a mission to "redefine girly." They are all about promoting the smarts, bravery, creativity and independence of girls of all ages. I have only scratched the surface of their site, but it is exactly the antidote I needed to combat the Hannah Montanas and Toddlers in Tiaras of the world. If you have a daughter, a granddaughter or niece, or a friend or neighbor with a daughter, I can't recommend this site enough.

And please don't think I hate tutus or pink or hairbows... I just don't want those things to overshadow the people that my two little girls are. And I am determined to (when they're little) shield them from, and (when they're older) educate them against the oversexualization of girls. (And if you think I am overreacting, click here.)

Perfectly Imperfect

Sometimes on the web it is easy to forget that people only show you the GOOD parts. The tidy rooms. The finished projects. The most perfect cupcake in the batch. And of course, the cute baby photos. It can be easy to begin to feel inadequate. Sometimes I have to catch myself when I look around and think, "How are all these people doing this? And doing it so perfectly? And then finding time to blog about it forcryingoutloud?"

When my house, my tiny little crackerbox of a house, is in bad need of a once over. A run of the sweeper, as my Grandmom used to call it. And the beautiful roses that my husband bought me (just because I had a migraine) are wilting and fading. And a wall remains only half painted, because Josie woke up from her nap early a couple weeks ago and we never got back to it. Our bedroom is the holding area for all the junk we don't have a spot for. Our once-perfect coffee table has crayon marks and pen scribbles on it. We are fighting (and winning) a battle with pantry moths. I haven't the slightest clue as to how to start potty-training. I ate Fig Newtons for breakfast this morning. My kids cry and make hideous faces and refuse to eat meals I have lovingly prepared for them. And I have no intention of stopping the bottle with my littlest baby anytime soon, despite the frowns of my pediatrician. I just can't. Because I am so dang imperfect.

 

Josie's toilet creation

That all-important 1st birthday cake... that cracked in half and all the icing bled

 
Christmas morning blues

Despite my best efforts to get them to look at the camera and smile

I say "say cheese" and this is what I get

2nd birthday cake camera moment is a bust

And I kept them there at least 2 days afer this!

The wall that will one day be finished, but not today

 

So when you are perusing the blogosphere, please, for me, don't forget that what you see is what you are wanted to see. Few bloggers want you to believe they are anything less than perfect. They want to inspire you and show you what they can do. They want to impress you and wow you. They are the people who dress really cute, with scarves and like, toe rings, to go to the grocery store. And carry their best bag.

I am the blogger who wants to console you and let you know you are not the only one who not only doesn't get pedicures, but is still wearing the same nail polish from 4 months ago. What's left of it anyway. I'm the blogger that says, "don't make dessert, just eat some chocolate chips." The blogger that approves of letting your kids hang out in the crib for an extra 10 minutes so you can sleep. (Unless they are crying, then that's just mean.) The blogger that knows that, on a bad day, intentions are just as good as actions.

So I'm just saying: No judgments here.

Clearly.