Green Around the Edges

Valentine Swag Bag

2012-02-14T22:08:00.000-05:00

Buggie's Valentine's Day party at daycare was on Friday. His teachers gave him an apple with a little note proclaiming him to be the apple of their eyes. I thought it was cute then, but I appreciate it even more now as I gaze down upon the massive pile of high fructose corn syrup cascading out of the swag bag Miss Mouse came home with after her party today.

Good lord.

I have only vague memories of Valentine's Day as a child, but I swear it didn't involve tons of candy. The candy holidays are Easter and Halloween, right? Apparently not. Miss Mouse sprang into the house this afternoon in a gleeful sugar rush, toting a giant bag of goodies, whose contents were as follows:

23 valentines
6 pieces of chocolate
9 lollipops
1 rice krispie treat
1 bag of skittles
1 package of starbursts
1 tube of bubbles
1 heart-shaped bracelet
1 valentine pencil and eraser combo
1 heart crayon

With two exceptions, the cards were all store-bought and plastered with some sort of cartoon character -- Cars, Toy Story, Disney Princess, Hello Kitty, etc. The exceptions were an awesome (really really awesome) heart-shaped crayon clearly made from melted bits of other crayons (must find instructions for this!) and a lovely hand-drawn card from Miss Mouse's teacher.

I eyed the whole mess with trepidation and some disdain, but my daughter quickly set me straight. She loved her valentines. Every single one of them. She carefully arranged them in front of her, then brought them over one by one to ask me who it was from. We sounded the names out together and her eyes lit up as she proudly announced the names of all her friends. "Ooooh! This one is from Alex! Ooooh! This one has Buzz Lightyear!" Shame on me for being snooty about the cartoon cards -- their recipient adored them. And I have a sneaking suspicion that my foam heart valentines probably were met with less enthusiasm.

I'm still not thrilled with the candy haul, but we're doling it out sparingly. I figure it'll be gone just in time for Easter!

Valentine Scones

2012-02-14T21:56:00.000-05:00

I wanted to do something special for my littles in celebration of Valentine's Day and opted for baked goods. What better way to show your love than heart-shaped chocolate chip scones? I baked them last night and carefully set the table this morning. Heart plates. Pink cups. Heart scones. And a page of Valentine stickers for Miss Mouse.

Having set the scene (and letting my husband sleep in as a Valentine's Day treat) I headed upstairs to wake the sleeping beauties. We pranced downstairs together in gleeful anticipation of the delicious breakfast...

...only to discover that the dog had cleaned their plates in our absence.

Sigh. Luckily for all concerned, the recipe made a big batch and there were plenty of scones in reserve.

If you're ever looking for an easy V-Day treat, you can't go wrong with these.

Chocolate Chip Heart Scones

3 cups flour
1/3 cup sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup cold butter
1 1/2 cups mini chocolate chips
1 cup buttermilk
2 Tbs butter, melted
Sugar for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 425.

Stir together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl. Cut in butter with pastry blender or fingers, mixing until coarse crumbs form. Stir in chocolate chips. Add buttermilk and stir until ingredients are moistened and soft dough forms.

Gather dough into a ball, pressing gently to hold together. Turn out onto slightly floured work service and knead briefly.

Roll dough out to approximately 1/2 inch thick and cut with heart cookie cutters. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet. Brush scones with melted butter and sprinkle with sugar.

Bake for 10 - 12 minutes or until golden. Cool on wire rack. Serve warm. Makes approximately 16 two inch hearts.

For the Sake of Charlie Brown

2012-02-13T22:05:00.000-05:00

This evening, Miss Mouse and I addressed her hand-made valentines. I had gotten a class list and was prepared to read out the names while she picked which valentine to give to which friend.

I was unprepared for her to immediately offer this comment -- "I don't want to give one to everyone. Just my friends."

Ack! Where did this mean creature come from and where is my daughter?

I nipped that plan in the bud right away, of course. While I never suffered any Valentine's Day trauma as a child (thank goodness), I think we've all seen the Charlie Brown special where the poor guy pathetically checks his mail box all day hoping for a valentine.

It's soul-crushing just to watch a cartoon go through it, never mind the prospect of having your daughter perpetuate that kind of suffering!

She acquiesced without struggle though, and cheerfully assigned each of the 22 names on the list a valentine. Whew.

Easy Foam Heart Valentines

2012-02-10T08:11:00.000-05:00

It's Valentine season again. (My husband tries in vain to argue that Valentine's Day is merely a day, not a season. But he is wrong.) I like Valentine's Day. Always have, even though I've never really been swept up in the romance of it all. I just like the chance to wear heart socks and do craft projects involving doilies.

Now that there are kids on the scene, making valentines has morphed from "fun thing to do if I've got time" to "imperative mommy activity."

Well, at least for me it has. I really don't like the store-bought kiddie valentines. So impersonal. So cheesy. So full of product placement. Thus, I prefer to make valentines by hand. Last year, I made some really awesome recycled-art valentines with Miss Mouse. This year, that seemed a bit labor intensive.

Enter foam heart stickies.

You can buy them everywhere. Big tubs of themed, self-adhesive stickers (often with glitter!!) can be had cheaply at any craft store or Wal-Mart. I bought a tub and also found some non-sticker foam hearts, about five inches in diameter. Then I turned my preschooler loose.

She had a blast artfully covering her base hearts with legions of smaller sticky hearts. I'll pen her name on the back of them all and -- voila! -- cheap, personalized, hand-made valentines for all her friends at day care.

In which I (remarkably) plan ahead

2012-02-08T20:12:00.004-05:00

I try to get out ahead of life when I can. I (sometimes) pick an outfit for the next day before going to bed. I (infrequently) pack my lunch in the evening. And I (occasionally) dabble in freezer cooking. I'm trying to be more intentional about that last one and have gotten pretty good about freezing single-serving portions of things like soup that I can then take in my lunch.

A few weeks ago, I had a surge of productivity and made a triple (yes, triple) recipe of a penne chicken casserole that's a family favorite. We ate one batch and I froze the other two.

This wasn't a random act. No, no. I had a plan. A dear friend of mine was very pregnant at the time, and I always want to be "that person who brings over meals for new moms"...but I usually fail to be that person. Thus I earmarked one of the casseroles for her.

The other casserole will debut tomorrow when we have friends coming over for dinner. I pulled it out of the freezer tonight to defrost and can just pop it in the oven tomorrow evening. Easy peasy.

Now I just need to get off my butt and take the other casserole to my friend and her lovely new son. Before he starts walking...

Toddlers in Love

2012-02-06T11:27:00.000-05:00

That's Buggie's girlfriend. We'll call her Butterfly. Buggie and Butterfly have been going steady for a little over a year. It was true love the moment she arrived in his Infant 1 daycare class.

Butterfly is petite, nearly bald, and stoic. Stoic to the point of being disconcerting when she fixes her old-soul eyes on you. That child never cracks a smile...

...except for Buggie.

When we arrive in the morning, she dances on her toes, breaks into a megawatt grin, and races across the room for a hug. Which he's happy to return. In the afternoon, my Romeo will not leave -- will not -- without being permitted to hug his gal. If I make the mistake of picking him up before his goodbyes have been said, he fusses and flails and squirms until I put him down.

Ah, young love.

Shoots & Ladders VS Candy Land

2012-02-04T13:27:00.000-05:00

photo source

Over the holidays, I picked up a couple classic preschool board games for Miss Mouse -- Shoots & Ladders and Candy Land. However, given the influx of gifts during that time of year, I didn't actually break them out until recently.

Unsurprisingly, Miss Mouse LOVES board games. All other evening activities have been flung to the back burner in her zest to play games. It's pretty darned fun, except for one small thing:

Shoots & Ladders is a stupid game.

There, I said it. I have fond memories of playing as a child, but am finding that playing as an adult is truly torturous. It's dull. And frustrating because Miss Mouse struggles with counting out spaces, causing me to grit my teeth and gently help her Every Single Time. And dull. Did I mention dull? Snooze fest.

Candy Land is noticeably better. It's easier -- colors instead of counting -- and who doesn't get a kick out of drawing Lolly and Princess Frostine (though I swear she used to be Queen Frostine)? Happily, Miss Mouse has fallen in love with Mr. Mint and usually requests a romp through the land of sweets instead of a asking for That Other Game.

(Yes, she's wearing pink striped footie pajamas and a big bow headband. The girl's got style, even when she's getting ready for bed.)

Consider this a public service announcement so that, if you are ever asked by a three-year-old which game you want to play, you know the answer.

Snack time, farewell

2012-02-03T19:57:00.000-05:00

As I may have mentioned before, my son likes to eat. A lot. All the time. A while back we instituted an after-school snack because he was melting into a big old puddle of hungry angst before we could get dinner on the table most nights. It worked like a charm. The kids would bound into the house and Buggie would head directly for his seat at the table, grunting expectantly.

But over the past month we noticed that this pre-dinner munching was having an impact on his evening meal. I suppose it was only a matter of time before eating a substantial snack (think: Nutrigrain bar plus large banana) an hour before dinner was going to take its toll. I wouldn't have minded too much but two problems were arising:

1) The nutritional value of the after-school snack was slipping. My attempts at sticking to fresh fruits and vegetables were starting to fall by the wayside, replaced by peanut butter crackers and cereal bars. I didn't like that the kids were filling up on those dubious products instead of my healthy, balanced dinners.

2) When he's not hungry at dinner, Buggie gets restless in his high chair. And when he gets restless, he throws thing to entertain himself. Like bowls of yogurt.

So this week, we eliminated the snack. This is how Buggie feels about the decision:

Poor dear. It's really quite heartbreaking to refuse to feed your child when you know perfectly well that's what they want.

But it's had the desired effect. Buggie has gone from picking at his dinner to wolfing it down. Two entire sandwiches one night. A giant bowl of peas last night. Four helpings of venison stroganoff tonight. He's eating like a champ. We're trying creative ways to keep Little Man distracted as he waits for dinner, from trips to the park (it's unseasonably warm here!) to new canisters of play dough (which he tries to eat). It's almost working.

Things My Daughter Never Did

2012-02-02T21:13:00.001-05:00

#63

Attempt to dunk her toothbrush in the toilet bowl

Why I Organized My Cookie Cutters

2012-01-31T19:44:00.000-05:00

Alternate post title: De-Cluttering Baby Steps.

Recently, I've been trying to whittle away at the amount of stuff cluttering my house. I (finally) went through my closet and pulled out a few things I never wear. I reorganized Miss Mouse's art supplies and (finally) threw away the coloring books that are completely full. I went through my junk drawer and (finally) chucked all the pens that don't write.

These are all baby steps. Things that aren't going to completely overhaul my home, but which, taken together, do have an impact on the amount of random crap I'm tripping over on any given day.

This weekend, I weeded my cookie cutters. This probably isn't a trouble spot for all of you, but I have a lot of cookie cutters. I bought an awesome set of 100 a while back for every occasion imaginable and have supplemented it over time because, as it turned out, there actually were some occasions for which the makers of the set had not prepared (how did they not include a turkey?).

One entire drawer in my kitchen has been devoted to cookie cutters - they're piled into bags and shoved into a couple boxes in the drawer. Today I managed to weed out maybe 20% of them. Ones that were poorly designed and produced utterly unrecognizable cookies. Ones that were too big. Ones that were duplicates (I may have forgotten to check my stash before buying Halloween cutters this year).

I pared my collection down to what would fit into two cardboard boxes. Another baby step. But I feel like it's making a difference to my house, and my sanity!

Dump or Donate?

2012-01-30T08:23:00.001-05:00

Don't mistake trash for treasure!

Maintaining an organized and uncluttered home means that you must regularly assess your possessions, and frequently cull your belongings. Whether you’re clearing out the closet, paring down the tower of toys, or trying to make room on your bookshelf for the newest best seller, there will be items leaving your home.

The moment of decision looms: do you throw the stuff away or donate it to charity?

You can check out the rest of this post over at Life as Mom, where I am the guest contributor today!

Death by a Thousand Paper Cuts

2012-01-29T22:10:00.001-05:00

photo source

Sometimes, parenting a preschooler feels like going toe to toe with an atom bomb -- something sets them off and there's a truly massive explosion. But other times, it's more like death by a thousand paper cuts.* There's not one particular thing you're tussling over, but every interaction is a mini power struggle and small acts of defiance and obstinacy are woven into everything.

Miss Mouse was getting on my very last nerve tonight. I don't know what happened to get her knickers (or mine) into a twist but she was six kinds of stress-inducing this evening. Naturally I was flying solo as Josh was at a church function, and I'm sure that had something to do with it.

Every other word out of her mouth was no. And when she wasn't actually saying "no" she was acting it out with selective deafness and small acts of petty meanness to her brother. Like stealing his beloved stuffed giraffe and holding it over her head. Or kicking his door from the outside while I tried to read him a bedtime story and tuck him in.

By the time I had Buggie stowed in bed (shrieking, I might add, which is weird because he usually goes to sleep beautifully), I was in a foul mood and she knew it. But here's where a ray of sunshine appeared. She asked to play a game. I refused, citing a headache. And she immediately offered -- "Maybe I can clean something to make you feel better." It was so sweet, and so sincere, and so obvious that she totally "gets" The Dreaded Headache.

I told her I just needed a little alone time and asked her to please read a book in the living room while I cleaned the kitchen. Which she did, narrating aloud from the couch while I loaded the dishwasher. And by the time I was done, the storm clouds had parted and we spent a nice ten minutes together before I tucked her in.

*And some times it's sunshine and butterflies and three-year-olds wrapping their arms around their daddy's neck and whispering "I missed you" when he comes back from a meeting. But that's not what I'm writing about tonight!!

Please Don't Pet Me While I'm Eating

2012-01-28T11:35:00.000-05:00

I have discovered that I have a new pet peeve. I don't like to be touched while I'm eating.

Okay, I know that many of you are thinking -- "Huh, that's a weird thing to be irritated by." But then again, you have may never have had the experience of trying to eat your dinner while a three-year-old pets your arm.

Miss Mouse and I sit next to each other for meals on one of the long sides of our table. Buggie sits at the head in a booster (to my right), and Josh is around the corner to his right, across from me. Miss Mouse has a very difficult time sitting still at the table under the best of circumstances. She fidgets, she stands up, she gets up to pick a new spoon from the kitchen, she puts her feet on my chair, and...she touches me.

She'll rub her nose against my elbow. Poke me in the leg with a finger. And just run her hands along my arms.

It drives me absolutely insane. I have a visceral reaction to it that makes my skin crawl and my flesh twitch. Go figure.

But it's become a bit of a problem at dinner because She Won't Stop Doing It. I routinely have to banish her to the end of the table now, out of range, and I'm seriously contemplating changing up the seating chart!

The Ongoing Adventures of Monkey Boy

2012-01-27T19:28:00.000-05:00

As I may have mentioned, my son has an...umm...adventurous streak. Thus perhaps it should have come as no surprise to me that when I walked into the dining room after hearing an unexpected-and-not-immediately-identifiable sound, I witnessed this:

And yet, I was surprised. (And secretly impressed.)

Note to self: push all dining room chairs in fully once you have vacated them.

Ginger Pear Muffins

2012-01-26T20:22:00.000-05:00

Here's what I love about baking -- besides the fact that it makes your house smell divine. Most of the ingredients you need to do simple baking are ones you keep on hand all the time, allowing you to produce baked goods on a moment's notice without heading to the store.

Which is particularly useful when you are snowed in when the desire to bake seizes you.

On Saturday, we got a layer of ice followed by a layer of snow deposited on our fair hamlet and the snow plow teams were apparently sleeping in so they didn't stop by until after noon. We weren't going anywhere. After romping in the back yard for a while, the next logical activity (obviously) was to bake muffins. Lots of muffins.

Miss Mouse and I worked together to produce Blueberry Peach Cardamom and Ginger Pear Muffins. The blueberry ones were only okay but the pear muffins were lovely. I use the Mix and Match Muffins recipe from Good Cheap Eats and just add things to it. It's a great go-to recipe and I like that it calls for (some) whole wheat flour and replaces some of the fat with plain yogurt. I feel like these nods to nutrition allow one to binge, guilt-free.

Anyways, you can find the original recipe here. My additions were to add 1/4 tsp of ground ginger to the dry ingredients, 1 tsp of grated fresh ginger to the wet ingredients, and a cup of chopped up pear (no need to peel). Yummo!

A Word from the Lord

2012-01-24T21:11:00.000-05:00

As an addendum to yesterday's post about prayer, I wish to relate the following conversation which took place in the bathroom this evening between myself and my firstborn, who was singing at the top of her lungs in the tub.

Me: "Miss Mouse, please sing using your inside voice."

Miss Mouse: "Mommy, Jesus told me to sing louder."

Me: .....

Because, really, what do you say to that?

In which we pray for heart underpants

2012-01-23T18:45:00.000-05:00

I have got to teach Riley that trick!

photo source

As you might expect -- what with being married to a minister and all -- church plays a pretty central role in our lives. We categorize our days as "school days," "church day," and "play day" (Saturday). As Miss Mouse gets older, she is beginning to incorporate religious language and activity into her daily life -- sometimes with amusing results.

Take prayer. We say bedtime prayers with Miss Mouse each night and have also begun encouraging her to say her own prayers. This weekend, she was on a holy roll with prayers flying right and left. She'd march into the kitchen and announce - "I'm going to say a little prayer" -- then dutifully fold her hands and start talking. "Dear Jesus, thank you for the snow. And for mommy and daddy. And for my heart underpants. And for spoons. Amen."

Then she'd encourage me to say a prayer. Then it was daddy's turn. If she could have gotten Riley to participate, I'm sure she would have.

Miss Mouse also likes to sing. A lot. While she's engaged in other activities, like reading or doing a puzzle or coloring, Miss Mouse often invents songs. They're somewhat atonal but clearly heartfelt. And their content is an amazing riotous concoction of well-known children's songs, Christian radio, and snippets of daily life.

"Hickory dickory dock. The mouse ran around and said boo! My soul, my soul, magnifies the lord, my soul! We're sitting at the table. At the table. Oh Lord."

We let Buggie get in on the action when he can, too. For example, when we say grace at dinner, we all clap our hands in time to the prayer. He loves it. His face lights up and he whacks his hands together gleefully. It's only a matter of time until they start composing songs together.

Buggie See, Buggie Do

2012-01-21T14:51:00.000-05:00

It is a well-documented fact that little brothers and sisters like to copy their older siblings. But, being an only child, I'd never really experienced this phenomenon personally until now.

It's quite amazing to behold. Just in the last couple days, I've watched Buggie watch Miss Mouse and then attempt to do the following (with varying degrees of success):

Climb onto the couch
Jump off the couch
Eat with a fork
Put on his socks
Climb completely inside of a cupboard in our entertainment center
Read a book
"Drink" from a play teacup

He also likes to "help" Miss Mouse arrange the cards of her matching game.

And, of course, there's the ubiquitous squabbling over mutually-desired toys and other items. We have eight sippy cups of varying colors and configurations. They always -- ALWAYS -- want the same one. Ditto for books to read, balls to roll, baby dolls to hug, and cars to race.

This one flows both ways and Miss Mouse is actually the worst offender. No matter what her baby brother picks up to play with, she instantly swoops in and snatches it from him. He frequently responds with a physical assault and he's getting big enough to make his feelings firmly known (though he does follow up with a nice hug).

I have a sneaking suspicion this style of interaction will not be dissipating any time soon. At least when they're teenagers they (probably) won't want to borrow each other's clothing.

My Recipe Binder

2012-01-19T21:40:00.001-05:00

I love cookbooks. I can sit down and thumb through a new cookbook for hours, making lists of ideas, drooling over the pictures, and pondering the untapped potential of ingredients like fennel or Manchego cheese. But anymore, a lot of my recipe-hunting happens on the Internet. My mom emails me ideas and I surf regularly to my favorite site -- AllRecipes -- for inspiration.

A number of years ago, I started compiling my printed-out recipes into a three-ring binder. It actually started the year I studied abroad. It was the first time I faced the prospect of apartment living and cooking for myself full-time. I wanted to be prepared, so I printed off a bunch of simple recipes, glued them to cardstock, and stuck them in a binder.

I still have that binder. It's grown over the years and gotten a bit more sophisticated. I have color-coded sections for breakfasts/breads, soups, sides, main dishes, and dessert. I periodically go through and weed out unsuccessful recipes by pasting new ones over the top. I don't keep up with it as often as I like and usually have a file-folder stashed in the kitchen that is brimming with loose-leaf recipes, printed from the web or clipped from magazines.

But when I get a chance (like tonight!), I enjoy the chance to file things, often discovering recipes I'd forgotten about. On the menu for next week: Hawaiian-style short ribs and spiced sweet potato fries (not necessarily together). Mmmmm.

Chapstick Monster

2012-01-17T11:03:00.000-05:00

My mother has created a monster.

The women of my family have a feverish (and perhaps unhealthy) obsession with chapstick. My mom and her sisters all own zillions of sticks of lip-coating gunk and keep them stashed around the house, in their cars, in their purses, and under their pillows so that they are never more than a few inches away from a tube.

If you look carefully, you can actually see chapstick tube outlines permanently etched into the back pockets of my mother's blue jeans.

Somewhere during one of their visits, my mom introduced Miss Mouse to chapstick and it was downhill from there. I am hit daily with a barrage of chapstick requests from my lip-smacking daughter. She smears it onto her lips with enthusiasm, then goes on to adorn her chin, cheeks, and little brother's nose...

Ulterior Motives

2012-01-16T11:07:00.000-05:00

Do you ever get that feeling like your son purposely whallops his sister just so that he has an excuse to give her a hug?

Yeah, me too.

The Last Bit of Christmas

2012-01-16T10:58:00.000-05:00

This pile of tangled yuck is the final vestige of Christmas at our house.

What is the tangled pile of yuck, you ask? Why, they're the lights off my pre-lit Christmas tree. We bought our tree in an after-Christmas sale three years ago. Which means this was only its second Christmas of use. And yet, at least 1/3 of the light strings had gone out over the last two holiday seasons.

I was not amused.

To teach the tree a lesson, I decided to remove all the original lights so we can just string our own on next year. I liked the convenience of pre-lit but not if they don't work!

What seemed like an easy-enough task turned into many hours of hand-scratching labor as I fought to unwind the zillions of lights from the prickly plastic branches, brandishing my wire cutters with gusto.

It was a pain in the butt, and it also pricked my conscience to realize that odds are good that somewhere in a sweat shop in a third-world country, twelve-year-old girls spend their days endlessly engaged in a similar pursuit as they wind the stupid lights onto the trees. Sigh.

In which we frolic and play, the Eskimo way

2012-01-15T14:19:00.000-05:00

Christmas was disconcertingly mild, but we've finally gotten some snow this winter. The first good ground cover came shortly after new year, and we were ready. Snow pants? Check. Long underwear? Check. Boots? Check. Hats? Check. Gloves? Check. Coats? Check.

A Christmas Story references? Check. "I can't put my arms down!"

My folks got the kids a sled for Christmas and Miss Mouse was primed and ready to try it out. Buggie patiently allowed himself to be hauled around the backyard, but seemed a bit confused by the whole affair.

He was similarly nonplussed when my mom and I taught Miss Mouse the fine art of eating snow off the plastic slide in the yard (don't tell Josh), but was really a good sport about the adventure.

Miss Mouse was in heaven. She loved the sled, and her boots, and making snow angels, and throwing snowballs for the dog to chase. I had expected to spend 40 minutes bundling the kids up, only to be outside for 5 minutes, but she played happily for nearly an hour before I declared myself a popsicle and forced her back in.

Why Two Kids Are Better Than One

2012-01-13T17:29:00.000-05:00

When I began to get my head around the prospect of parenting two children instead of one, I failed to grasp one of the key benefits: they entertain each other. Now, I love spending time with my kids. We read together, play games together, have tea parties with stuffed animals, growl like bears in their tent, do airplane rides, blow bubbles, have dance parties, and generally interact together. A lot.

But sometimes, I appreciate being able to sit back on the couch, and watch my offspring be ridiculous together, with no need for parental involvement.

The other day, Miss Mouse was sitting at the table coloring. Buggie decided he wanted to play with her, and went stomping over, grunting and waving his fists at her. She was in an obliging mood (never guaranteed!) so she turned around, stuck her face to the bars of the chair, and made a silly noise.

EUREKA! Instant game.

For the next twenty minutes, that's all they did. They took turns sticking their faces against the chair and making silly noises. And laughing. Oh, did they laugh. I have absolutely no idea why, but I can say with certainty that the game would not have lasted as long if I had been the one in charge of keeping it going!!

A Boy and His Dog

2012-01-10T21:27:00.000-05:00

This is Riley. The furball has been part of our family since shortly after Josh and I were married. The poor dear had a tough time adjusting to the arrival of children in his world, and after three years of life with kids, he tolerates the rug rats, but would be perfectly happy if they disappeared tomorrow.

Buggie, on the other hand, adores Riley. Can't get enough of him. He follows the long-suffering pooch around the house, alternating between patting (read: whacking) him on the head, hugging (read: squashing) him enthusiastically, and pulling (read: well, yeah, pulling) his tail.

When we pack up to leave for school in the morning and secure the dog in his crate, I usually turn around to find my son standing expectantly next to me, dog toy in hand. He wants me to open up the crate so he can give a toy to Riley -- and I oblige.

At dinner, Riley has long since learned to camp out under Buggie's chair. It's not just accidentally-dropped bits of food that come his way. Oh, no. My generous son deliberately shares his meals with his canine companion, alternating between putting food in his own mouth and throwing tidbits to the dog.

And then there's the fact that, other than Uh Oh, my son's first word was Ra Ra -- his name for Riley. He says it all the time and refuses to say much else (though he can do a convincing cow moo). We have regular conversations that go something like this:

Me: Buggie, say "Ma Ma"

Buggie: Ra Ra!

Josh: Buggie, say "Da Da"

Buggie: Ra Ra!

Me: Look, you ungrateful thing. I gave birth to you. The dog doesn't even like you. Let's try this again. Say, "Ma Ma."

Buggie: Ra Ra!

Sigh.

Cocoa ala Mouse

2012-01-07T13:49:00.000-05:00

During Advent, I posted about how I manage my time to get everything I want done even with two small people clamoring for attention. My secret mostly involved being efficient when they're asleep. A friend of mine pointed out that involving kids in day-to-day activities can also be an excellent bonding opportunity (as well as good example-setting).

She's right, of course. As Miss Mouse gets older, she wants nothing more than to help me with household tasks. She loves to fill the dog's cup with food, carefully carrying it up the stairs to pour into his bowl. She adores helping me do laundry -- loading the washer, pouring the soap, pushing the buttons...upending my clean laundry baskets and jumping on the piles. And she likes spending time in the kitchen with me.

So the other day, when I needed to be doing some baking, I set her up at our kitchen island with a couple bowls of flour and some measuring spoons while I did my own mixing and stirring. She was in heaven. Very quickly, she determined that she was making hot cocoa (a carry-over from when we actually made it together for her teachers) and she set to work making the best cocoa ever.

Looks yummy, no?

We added ingredients -- like Christmas cookie sprinkles! -- and she was completely entranced for about a half an hour.

It made a huge mess and "wasted" a ton of colored sugar, but who cares? It was quality time with my girl.

I Just Can't Win

2012-01-05T21:21:00.000-05:00

Five to Fourteen.

Eight to Eleven.

Six to Thirteen.

These are scores, my friends. Scores of a few recent, extremely competitive games of Disney Princess Memory (you know, where you have the pairs of cards face down and you try to find the matches by flipping them over two at a time).

The little number always belongs to me. The big number belongs to my three-year-old daughter.

I just can't win.

That's my pile on top.

Seriously. When she was just learning, I let her win (and sometimes cheat). Now, I put up a valiant and heart-felt effort, but to no avail. That child has the memory of a precocious pachyderm. Many times, she isn't even paying all that much attention. She rolls around on the floor, plays with toys, and acts silly -- pausing periodically to unerringly select a pair of matching cards from the mess.

The deck we play with has 19 pairs. That 38 cards to choose from. I have no idea how she manages to remember their placement so well.*

*Though I suspect it has something to do with genetics. Miss Mouse's father has only lost to her once...

Gingered Apple Crisp (Recipe)

2012-01-03T21:50:00.001-05:00

In honor of the New Year, we cooked up a nice brunch on Monday with my parents and Aunt Meg. Homemade cinnamon rolls, Christmas Morning Frittata, sausage patties, and gingered apple crisp. The last item was a Kate Creation (and those are rare). I had a bunch of delicious ginger cookies left over from the holidays that I'd stashed in the freezer. They form the base of this fabulous (and easy) recipe that works well for breakfast or dessert!

Gingered Apple Crisp

8 cups of tart apples, peeled and sliced
1/2 cup craisins
1/2 cup water
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
3 cups ginger cookies, crushed
5 tbs butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 9x13 baking dish.

Arrange apples and craisins in the baking dish. Sprinkle with salt, water, and cinnamon.

In a small bowl, combine ginger cookies and melted butter. Sprinkle over the apple mixture.

Bake, uncovered, for 45 minutes. ENJOY!

Braiding My Daughter's Hair

2012-01-01T20:02:00.001-05:00

I have had short hair for fifteen years. Well, except for an unfortunate year I spent trying to grow out my locks for my wedding, thinking that "bridal hair" was synonymous with "long hair in an updo." After torturing myself for about 14 months, I finally chopped the mess off three weeks before the wedding (and never have you seen a more nervous hair stylist than when I made that request!!).

Anyways, suffice to say I have short hair. My daughter, on the other hand, has increasingly lengthy hair. And her hair is gorgeous -- thick silky tresses that shimmer in the light.

I'm learning a new skill set as I try to gain control of her hair. For all its beauty, it's also quite fine, extremely prone to static, and aggravatingly resistant to being corralled by clips, ribbons, and scrunchies. But I love playing with her hair (even though it's sometimes a point of contention for us!). I remember vividly the thrill I felt the first day I managed to put her in pigtails. It was awesome.

And so I'm learning. Today, I managed to wrestle her hair into two clumsy but respectable braids and we were both pleased with the result.

When I'm done typing, I'll be looking up "how to French braid" videos on YouTube!

Dossier Complete

2011-12-31T15:15:00.000-05:00

This morning, I bundled a huge stack of papers into a FedEx box and sent them off toward Grand Rapids, Michigan. Want to know how much paperwork it takes to adopt a child? Behold:

Wow. But that's all of it. There are a few more steps to the process before the papers head to Africa, but our agency will take of them. For now, our work is done.

Here's hoping that 2012 is the year when our family of four becomes a family of five!

I Kissed Ribbons Goodbye (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-30T08:08:00.000-05:00

See the pretty ribbon? These are definitely not mine.

As we close out the Christmas season, here's a final Advent Unplugged post, subtitled: "Gift wrapping shouldn't give you nightmares." I don't wrap gifts well. I enjoy the process, but have always struggled with bows and ribbons. I have an aunt whose gifts are works of art and so I have an inferiority complex, but I think it's justified because my packages continue to look like they were wrapped by a ten-year-old many years after I stopped actually being a ten-year-old.

Anyways.

Stocking up on wrapping supplies can also get expensive fast and if you're wrapping gifts on Christmas Eve like I was this year, it seems extra silly to waste money on festive accouterments that will be ripped off with nary a glance just a few hours later.

So this year I just didn't bother with ribbons. Or bows. I wrapped the packages in pretty paper I bought at the dollar store, wrote the recipient's name in permanent marker on the top, and called it a day. Honestly, I think they actually looked better. Cleaner.

And don't assume that a lack of bows makes for a boring package. For the presents for the grandparents, Miss Mouse helped put the finishing touches on, thanks to a big box of foam Christmas stickers I bought on clearance at Michael's. Festive, no?

This post is part of the Frugal Fridays carnival over at Life as Mom. Stop by for more money-saving tips!

Ham and Cheese Buns (Recipe)

2011-12-29T08:33:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: this post would be better with a picture. I was too busy munching on these delectable wee bites to take their picture.

My great recipe discovery of our church open house this year was a super easy ham and cheese bun. It's totally adaptable to different fillings -- my mom did mandarin beef and they were fabulous -- and comes together easily. They're also kid-friendly, as little hands can help put the meat and cheese onto the dough, or help brush the buns with egg. Enjoy!

Ham and Cheese Yeast Buns

Yield: 32

1 lb frozen bread dough, thawed

¼ pound of deli ham, cut into squares.

¼ pound Swiss cheese, cut into ½” cubes

Dijon mustard

1 beaten egg

Divide bread dough into 32 portions and roll each into aball. Flatten a dough ball in your palm,squirt with mustard, and place a piece of ham and cheese on dough. Wrap dough up around filling, place seam sidedown on lightly greased baking sheet.

Cover and let rise 20 minutes in a warm place. Brush with egg.

Bake in a 375 oven for about 15 minutes or til light goldenbrown.

Make ahead: Prepare and cook as directed. Cool, tray freeze and toss into freezer bag. To reheat, defrost frozen balls then bake for10 minutes at 350 degrees.

This post is linked up with the Ultimate Recipe Swap over at Life as Mom. Stop by for more great New Year's Eve nibblets!

Christmas Pictures

2011-12-28T21:16:00.001-05:00

My camera hates me. The feeling is mutual. This is what the majority of our pictures from Christmas morning look like...

I don't know why. WHY, GOD, WHY?

Okay, I'm over it. Happily, we did get a few nice shots throughout the festivities at our house and with Josh's family.

That's a girl who loves Christmas.

The big gift of Christmas morning was the teepee my mother made for my munchkins. Here's Josh showing them how great it is. You can see from Miss Mouse's body language that what she's saying is -- "Get out of there, Daddy! It's my turn!"

Buggie was quite enamored of his Little People airplane...at least until his sister stole it and started flying it around the room with periodic landings on his head.

I failed to get this shot Christmas morning, which is probably good since the pics didn't turn out. This one was down with my in-laws. Next year, I plan for all four of us to have matching jammies. The question is: can I get Josh to wear holiday pajama pants??

Josh's middle sister is pregnant so here's the first picture of all three grandkids together!

And an extra shot of my adorable son. He likes hats, if you'll recall.

And his ham of a big sister. Love the sparkly green hair.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

What Makes Christmas Christmas?

2011-12-26T22:11:00.000-05:00

We're still in the midst of holiday frenzy and my camera and my computer aren't talking to each other at the moment, but there will be Christmas pictures soon!

On Christmas Eve, as Josh and I hung out with the kids before our church service, we both remarked that it didn't really "feel like Christmas." Maybe it was because it was 45 degrees and raining and there'd been nary a snowflake all month. Maybe it was because our kids don't have the calendar mastered yet so they weren't quite sure it was Almost Christmas. But probably it was because we were flying solo. The four of us celebrated Christmas Eve and morning on our own before driving to West Virginia to be with Josh's family. Our celebrations with my parents won't be until later this week when we rendezvous with them back in Pittsburgh.

And for me, Christmas isn't Christmas until you're with your family.

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy our own Christmas festivities. (Well, in truth, the Christmas Eve service was extremely disappointing for me because I didn't get to experience its loveliness, having had to do a forced extraction of an extremely recalcitrant three-year-old.) The kids LOVED their stockings and special present from Nana that awaited them in the morning. They tore through their gifts with zest and we all pigged out on cinnamon rolls. My husband surprised me with a gorgeous diamond pendant. It was great.

But it still didn't quite feel "right."

Until, that is, we arrived in West Virginia. We blared Christmas tunes throughout the four hour drive and cranked up our favorite when we were a few blocks out from Josh's parents' house. Thus, as we pulled into the driveway, it felt like something from a holiday music. There we were, mini-van packed to the gills with suitcases, food, and Christmas presents, honking our horn to alert the family, and singing 'Joy to the World' at the top of our lungs.

The family greetings were glorious chaos as we hugged and kissed and admired the tree. Within 30 seconds of arrival, Miss Mouse had identified her gifts under said tree and (egged on by her grandparents and aunt) was ripping them open with glee. Shortly thereafter, we had a wonderful turkey dinner and as I looked around the table, I knew it was Christmas.

The Pre-Christmas Toy Purge (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-23T15:02:00.000-05:00

This is not our tree. Thank god.
photo source

One of my goals in life is to avoid being utterly over run with children's toys. I'm not a total crunchy momma purist, stocking my home with only beeswax candles, organic dolls, and natural wooden blocks, but we try to limit the number of toys our kids accumulate and have a pretty strict "no batteries" rule. (Though somehow, a Dora the Explorer faux iPod snuck in and is a favorite of both children.)

Last year, we implemented a "three gift rule" when Christmas shopping for our children and we're using it again this year. Need. Want. Book. It keeps things simple. But we also learned last year that, even with this policy, the kids got a lot of gifts at Christmas. People love to buy presents for small children. Can't say that I blame them!

Thus, as we prepared ourselves for the deluge of gifts sure to accompany the holidays, we decided to thin the existing herd. We've got a nice nine-cubby storage unit in our living room and it seems like a decent rule of thumb that if it's overflowing, it's time to cut back a bit.

The toy cleanup was divided into several categories. Toys that Miss Mouse has outgrown, but which aren't quite age-appropriate for Buggie yet (like some of her easier puzzles) were packed away for future use. Ditto a few of her toys which she doesn't play with a lot and which happen to have small parts her brother shouldn't be eating. We donated a few things to Goodwill, too.

We also decided that Miss Mouse was getting old enough to participate in the project. It didn't seem fair to just get rid of her belongings without her input. So we selected a group of stuffed animals who were candidates for donation and allowed her to select two to keep, explaining that we'd be giving the rest away. (We were careful not to include animals with great sentimental value, lest they get caught up in the purge.)

It was tough. She wanted to keep them all. But we accomplished the selection with no tears and I think she chose wisely. She did request some snuggle time with her chosen critters and her mommy after the ordeal, and I happily obliged.

So now we're ready to welcome new toys to our family on Christmas morning without having to worry about where on earth we're going to store them. Bring it on, Santa.

Christmas Carol Dance Party (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-22T21:46:00.000-05:00

Some days I feel the wear and tear of being a working momma more than others. There are definitely evenings when I think that maybe my life would be easier if I just plonked the kids down in front of that nice claymation rendition of Rudolph while I sequester myself in the kitchen with a plate of Christmas cookies.

When that mood strikes, there is only one remedy: Christmas Carol Dance Party.

When you're dealing with preschoolers and toddlers, arranging an impromptu dance party isn't hard. Just turn on some music and set them loose. I'm partial to classics like Jingle Bell Rock, Holly Jolly Christmas, or Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree. (Miss Mouse tends to take that last one literally which imperils my evergreen - good thing we opted for an unbreakable tree!) Though nothing beats Trans-Siberian Orchestra when you're looking for something to jam to!

Miss Mouse, on the other hand, is nuts for a ridiculous Disney version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town (which she calls "Santa Sees You When You're Sleeping"). We all get rather silly.

The Cookie Timer

2011-12-21T14:58:00.000-05:00

We had an open house at the parsonage on Monday for the congregation (and some of our neighbors). It was a nice evening featuring some fabulous food, if I do say so myself. Ham and Swiss cheese buns, zesty bean bites, taco dip, holiday chicken salad, and cookies. Lots of cookies. And my mother's divine homemade fudge.

We wrestled the kids into their holiday finery and they had a great evening, pinging around the house in an attention-seeking frenzy, fueled by the fruit punch they were knocking back in their sippy cups.

As you can tell, we abandoned many of our usual healthy eating guidelines for the evening.

That said, I needed a way to curb my daughter's cookie intake. Left to her own devices, she would have patterned her consumption after a chain smoker, reaching for the next cookie before the current one was fully chewed.

Thus we introduced The Cookie Timer.

It was really a matter of self defense. I wanted to serve sweets at my party and I needed to be able to chat with guests, refill platters, and mingle without worrying that Miss Mouse was eating herself into a diabetic coma.

The premise of the cookie timer was simple. Josh set our oven timer at regular intervals (I think it was 15 minutes) and we informed my offspring that her next cookie could come when the time dinged. This gave her a tangible way to understand the limitation. If we'd just said "you can have another one in a little while" she'd have nagged us incessantly because that wasn't concrete enough.

The cookie timer worked remarkably well, with one exception. I happened to glance over and saw her grabbing a hunk of fudge about 30 seconds after polishing off a cookie. "Miss Mouse!" -- I exclaimed -- "The cookie timer did not go off!"

My too-smart-for-her-own-good daughter gazed coolly back at me and replied -- "Mommy, this is not a cookie. This is candy."

The Emotional Torment of Teacher Gifts (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-20T21:47:00.000-05:00

If I had to identify a single activity that most threatened my peaceful, stress-free holiday season it would be the act of selecting gifts for my children's daycare teachers.

Oh. My. Word. This is an activity not for the faint of heart. I suspect that not everyone agonizes over the decision as much as I did over the past week, but to me, it was a big deal. I mean, how exactly do you convey -- "thank you for working very long hours for very little pay so that the most precious people in my life are safe, happy, and emotionally, socially, and physically stimulated each and every day."

Somehow, a Subway gift card just seems inadequate.

So I wracked my brains and scoured the internet and came up with the idea of homemade cocoa mixes in big mugs. They felt personal, required us to put effort into the gift, and weren't too expensive. And Miss Mouse could help me make them!

Great. Gift selected. But now, who gets one?

Cue the ominous, anxious music.

The problem is, our daycare is structured such that my kids interact with a lot of different teachers on a daily basis. Miss Mouse has two core teachers and Buggie has three. (Count along with me.) Miss Mouse also has music classes so there's another person. (We're at six.) Buggie is transitioning to another classroom so let's add two more for his new teachers. (That's eight.)

But what about the teachers in the other preschool room where Miss Mouse spends many an afternoon? What about the teachers in the Infant A classroom who often spend time with Buggie? What about the center director and other admin staff who greet us each morning?

And once you start expanding beyond the obvious choices...what if you forget someone?!?

Shudder.

In the end, eleven teachers received cocoa mixes and I went in with a few other families on a fruit arrangement for the center staff as a whole. I still didn't feel entirely settled about it, but I did my best. And, in the spirit of Advent Unplugged, I'm letting it go!

One Calm Saturday (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-18T20:45:00.000-05:00

I didn't pack a diaper bag yesterday, and since Buggie has not miraculously mastered the potty at the age of 15 months that can only mean one thing...

...we didn't go anywhere yesterday.

I literally cannot remember the last time our family stayed home on a Saturday. With Sunday being largely consumed with church and grocery shopping, Saturday is our Day to Have Adventures. We go to the zoo, to the museum, to a friend's house, to a farm, to kid-friendly theater, and to the park. Bottom line: we go.

I thrive on activity and love taking the kids places, but staying home yesterday reminded me of how rewarding it can be to just kick back with your family. We had a great time together.

We read stories and colored pictures. I putzed around the house and sorted laundry. We listened to Christmas carols and had "a little snack" about every 45 minutes. We bundled up and stomped around in the back yard until our noses turned red and our fingers froze. Buggie and Miss Mouse played endless games that only they understand (interestingly, all these games involve shrieking at the top of their lungs).

And in the afternoon, we made gingerbread houses. Ever since we built a set at Thanksgiving, I've been itching to try again. I didn't quite realize how much skill goes into the initial assembly of the houses, since my aunt and uncle kindly did that step for us before. The little pre-made set I bought was tricky to put together and, sadly, only two of the five houses survived the decorating process in-tact.

Like my kids cared.

They both had a ball. Miss Mouse heaped gum drops on her house while Buggie mashed his fingers into frosting and attempted to gnaw on his house. (Is it any wonder it fell apart?)

Mental note to self: staying home for the day really can be as much fun as mounting a grand adventure!

Buggie Comes with a Bag

2011-12-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

Don't let my previous post give you the wrong idea about my boy. He actually loves his pink hat with a deep-seated passion. It's one of his favorite possessions and he wears it around the house whenever possible.

He's also taken to carrying a little cotton bag (which is supposed to house soft cotton fruits but rarely does) over one shoulder like a messenger bag. The combination is really quite precious.

Then there's the fact that Miss Mouse sometimes likes to put barrettes in his hair and I sometimes let her.

Note the pony tail on top.

And altogether, I'm happy to help Buggie embrace his feminine side. I'm hoping it might provide some counterbalance to his innate desire to pursue potentially-deadly activities...

...like trying to walk down the stairs instead of going down them on his tummy. Which is what he did today. And then proceeded to roll down the stairs. (He's fine, apart from a fat lip and some tears.) This picture captured his mood after the event.

Little Brother Woes

2011-12-17T08:22:00.000-05:00

It can be hard to have a big sister. Things like this tend to happen frequently:

Guilt-Assuaging Ear Tubes

2011-12-16T20:17:00.000-05:00

Buggie got ear tubes today. After eight ear infections in nine months, enough was enough. Happily, our ENT doc readily agreed and got us on his schedule amazingly quickly (our consult was Wednesday and the surgery was this morning!). The Bug-man was a trooper, remaining his usual chipper self through the pre-op shenanigans despite having been cut off from all food for 16 hours. I doubt I would have been so cheerful.

I'm hopeful that the tubes will work wonders on Buggie like they did on his big sister, who has only had one ear infection in the more than two years since she got her tubes.

I will confess that I felt a great surge of relief when it became evident that Buggie would need tubes. It relieved a piece of "momma guilt" that had been hanging around my neck for three long years: my failure to breastfeed Miss Mouse.

Rationally, I knew that I had given it my best shot and had no reason to feel bad about resorting to formula with my firstborn. But...one of the many benefits of breastfeeding that is regularly touted is a noticeable reduction in ear infections.

Thus, in my mind, Miss Mouse's recurrent ear troubles were linked to her lack of breast milk consumption.

Until now.

Because her baby brother got lots of boob juice. Six months of nothing but breast milk and two more months of boob and bottle. And he STILL needed ear tubes because he got so many ear infections. So there you have it.

Giving Thanks for Sleeping Boys

2011-12-13T21:24:00.000-05:00

Love is a sleeping toddler.

I give thanks for my son's sleep personality daily.

Buggie is pretty much everything you could ask for when it comes to bedtime. Really, it starts with bath time. When it's time to get scrubbed up, I announce to him -- "Buggie! It's bath time!" He lights up like a mega-watt bulb, reaches for my hand, and toddles toward the stairs to the bathroom.

Bedtime follows a simple routine. We read two or three stories while he drinks some milk, ending with Sandra Boynton's "Going to Bed Book." He hands me his milk cup and turns around on my lap for a hug. I turn off the light and give him another hug -- at the end of which he reaches for his crib. I set him down in his crib (wide awake) and he tucks his stuffed giraffe under his arm. I give him a pat on the back, say goodnight, and walk out.

That's it. It's amazing.

In the mornings, my son wakes up happy. Most mornings, I hear him start rustling around in his bed for a few minutes before he starts chattering to himself. He'll do that happily for ten minutes or so before getting more insistent about some company.

He's happy when he goes to bed and he's cheerful in the morning. Rejoice! Rejoice! Again I say, rejoice!

Delayed Gratification

2011-12-12T17:36:00.000-05:00

Miss Mouse has developed a freaky level of appreciation for delayed gratification. She's three, let's recall, and three-year-olds are not known for wanting to wait. For anything. Ever. Thus it is that I get asked daily if it's Christmas Eve.

But when it comes to edible treats, my girl likes to savor her goodies and portion them out. Many mornings, she asks if she can save half her chocolate milk for dinner, tucking the glass into the fridge for later.

And if there are treats at church, she usually takes a couple bites of a cookie before announcing her intention to save it to have with lunch. She gives detailed instructions to her handmaiden (me) to wrap her treat in a napkin and Do Not Drop It, then she eats it at lunch. Except, of course, for when she decides to save it for dinner.

Half that piece of cake came home with us.

I'm proud of her and sort of jealous of her self-control. Let's just say you'll rarely see me saving a cookie for later when given the opportunity to eat it immediately.

I've learned, though, that delayed gratification is absolutely only appreciated when Miss Mouse is the one making the decision. When I tell her she can eat a piece of candy after dinner, or that we'll go to the park tomorrow because it's getting late today, her response is somewhat less temperate!

Manageable Multitasking (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-11T21:17:00.001-05:00

photo by Jon Curnow

There are not enough hours in the day. Can I get a resounding -- "amen, sister" -- from the other mothers out there?

Right. One of my goals this Advent season is to manage my time wisely. Easy to say, difficult to implement. For me, time management is mostly about setting realistic expectations and working out a triage of my priorities. And resisting the urge to do too much multi-tasking.

I heard something the other day that resonated with me -- kids know when you're multitasking around them. If you're sneaking in Facebook updates in the midst of a tea-party with your pre-schooler, she'll know it, and while she may not say anything, consistently giving your kids only part of your attention is going to have a cumulative impact on your relationship with them. And not in a good way. I try to be as fully present with my kids as I can in the few hours we have together each day between work and bedtime.

Thus I have about two hours each day after the kids are in bed in which to accomplish all the things I want (and need to be doing). Laundry, exercise, baking, adoption paperwork, blogging, cleaning, etc. My to-do list gets pretty daunting.

I stay sane by dividing my evening into chunks of time and striving to be realistic about what I can accomplish in those chunks. Then I do those things and don't worry about the others.

My nightly activities might look something like this:

Sunday: exercise, prep Monday's dinner for crock pot, blog
Monday: exercise while watching Terra Nova, laundry, clean kitchen
Tuesday: exercise, bake cookies, phone call with mom, adoption paperwork
Wednesday: exercise, laundry, clean living room, blog

(Note the consistent element is exercise -- I do that first to be sure it gets done.)

I don't plan out the whole week of activities in advance (I'm not that structured) but I do try to visualize my night and establish my priorities before I start my first activity. So if I know that I want to blog and make hot cocoa mix one night, I won't let myself spend 40 minutes browsing other blogs. It's easy to let the night get away from you. Having a plan helps!

Seeing Santa Through My Daughter's Eyes

2011-12-11T14:06:00.000-05:00

I remember believing in Santa Claus as a child, but as an adult, I've been a bit ambivalent about the man in red. I'm okay with the pretending (some people throw the word "lie" around) and I've never gotten too worked up over the "Jesus vs. Santa" thing that some Christian parents struggle with (although don't get me started on the "Santa at the manger" figurines!). I think it was probably the super-commercialization of Christmas that had me feeling a bit underwhelmed by the chubby guy in a suit encouraging parents to buy way more toys than their kids need.

But now I have a three-year-old and I suddenly get it, because this year I'm seeing Santa through Miss Mouse's eyes.

And to her, Santa Claus is magic.

Our church has the somewhat odd tradition of having Santa show up at the annual congregation Christmas party. We prepped Miss Mouse that He might be appearing and she was giddy at the thought. When getting dressed, she requested pigtails -- "to show Santa." Then she asked if she could borrow a necklace of mine to wear, because she wanted "to show Santa." On the way to the church, we talked through the interaction, and she announced her intention to give him a big hug.

When the time came, she was a bit nervous, but in a shy, awed sort of way (in contrast to the abject terror expressed by my son). She didn't sit on his lap, but inched near to him and whispered her desire for a puzzle. It was adorable.

On the ride home, she replayed the event to herself and I'd hear small snippets of monologue from the backseat:

"...I said 'ho ho ho' and then he said 'ho ho ho' back to me!"

"...He's going to bring me a puzzle and a baby doll on Christmas Eve."

"...Santa was there!!"

Seeing Santa through her adoring eyes has rekindled the magic for me. We're still sticking to our plan of having only the stockings come from Santa (with another 3 gifts a piece under the tree from mom and dad) but I'm looking forward to putting out the cookies and milk and sprinkling the sparkly oatmeal in the backyard for the reindeer.

Santa's Little Enforcer

2011-12-10T08:25:00.001-05:00

Last year, Miss Mouse enjoyed the holiday season, but didn't really "get" the whole Santa thing. That has changed this year.

Miss Mouse not only understand that Santa Claus will be arriving Christmas Eve, laden with gifts, she has also appointed herself as his minion. She is acting as his enforcer of good behavior and all-around tattletale.

Many times each day, Miss Mouse determines that some member of the household has committed an infraction serious enough to warrant a call to the big man in red. "That's it!" -- she announces -- "Mommy, you are not going to get a present from Santa because you were not listening."

Or maybe it's -- "Buggie! You picked up my toy so you will NOT get a present from Santa."

Or else -- "Daddy! I am calling Santa and he is not going to come."

This morning, she even walked into the other room, where I heard her carrying on a conversation with her boss. "Santa," she announced importantly to the refrigerator, "Mommy is not listening."

I honestly have no idea where this came from. We've been pretty low-key about the whole Santa thing, although we do talk about him. But I swear we haven't talked much about the "naught vs. nice" list so I can only assume that it's a hot topic of conversation at school!

So now I have to be on my best behavior, knowing that Santa's right-hand gal is ever-vigilant.

Picture Day: Mouse vs. Mom

2011-12-07T21:19:00.001-05:00

I knew it would only cause problems, but I just couldn't help myself. I became emotionally invested in the daycare Picture Day.

They do picture day a couple times a year at school and I've never bothered with it before. We're not really "family picture people" and you'll find exactly zero pictures of our kids (or us) adorning the walls of the living room. It just seemed like a waste of money and a hassle.

But Buggie and Miss Mouse are both so darned cute -- and they're cute together -- that when I saw them advertising taking sibling pictures, I cracked and signed the kids up. Visions of darling brother-sister pictures danced in my head.

Thus it was that I set about to wrestle my children into their holiday finery this morning. It was an epic battle.

Not with Buggie. He cheerfully donned his reindeer sweater vest and patent leather shoes and set about looking dapper and radiant.

Miss Mouse, on the other hand, immediately divined my deep desire for her to look beautiful and dug her heels in. (She's good at that.) She refused to let me wash her hair. She screamed at the very notion of wearing a dress. She kicked her boots off and threw them across the room. It wasn't pretty.

But I was committed. This was a fight I was going to win. Josh waded into the fray and using a mixture of threats ("no pigtails, no Advent calendar") and bribes ("anyone who is wearing picture day clothes can have a piece of candy before they leave") we triumphed. She looked fabulous.

I have no idea if the pictures will turn out but if not, it wasn't for lack of adorable subjects!

What does ten pounds of sprinkles look like?

2011-12-04T21:19:00.001-05:00

Answer: Like this...

I believe "laden" is the word to describe these cookies.

Yesterday I hosted a Cookie Decorating and Craft Party for a group of Miss Mouse's daycare friends (and their parents). While you may not consider entertaining 22 people, ten of them under the age of four, a stress-free holiday activity, I actually do. This party was one of my non-negotiable Advent activities and I had been looking forward to it for weeks.

I'd say there were three -- no, four -- keys to making this shindig a success.

1) Location, location, location. There was no way on earth I was going to let eight preschoolers (and two baby brothers) decorate cookies in my house. Do I look crazy? Poor Josh's heart would have stopped when the first glob of frosting hit the carpet. So we wisely moved the affair to our church. We set up tables in our big open chapel and it worked perfectly.

2) Delegate. I didn't try to single-handedly prepare all the necessary baked goods and craft projects. I asked folks to bring one or the other. I made sugar cookies along with three other moms, three moms brought craft project supplies, and one provided music and snacks. We ended up with Magic Reindeer Food, jingle bell necklaces, foam penguin picture frames, and about nine dozen decorated cookies (along with an undetermined quantity in small tummies...).

My new favorite kid-craft!

3) Frost with paint brushes. I read on a blog somewhere that young kids do better with paint brushes than butter knives when it comes to spreading frosting. So I gave it a whirl. EUREKA. I bought a bunch of cheap foam pain brushes with short handles and they worked beautifully. The kids were really able to decorate totally independently (hence the ten pounds of sprinkles).

The would-be Picasso at work

4) Let it go. The cookies we made are not going to win any beauty pageants. Who cares? Well me, sometimes. But it only took me about five minutes to just throw up my hands and let the kids go wild with frosting, sprinkles, and colored sugar. Purple Christmas trees? Sign me up.

Buggie loved decorating cookies, too!

Since no one wanted their kids to actually consume nine dozen cookies, we're donating them to my work. We run a Christmas gift distribution program that's happening this week, so families who come in for that will be greeted by plates of exuberantly-decorated cookies. While our kids were a bit young to understand what a food pantry is, we did make an effort to explain that we were sharing our cookies with people who might not get cookies at Christmas. It's never too soon to talk about philanthropy!

The Slippery Slope from Could to Should (Advent Unplugged)

2011-12-02T09:45:00.001-05:00

Some days, she inspires me.
Other days, I hate the wench.

I read a really interesting article in the Washington Post this week about the rise of the "new domesticity" among young middle class moms. My generation is embracing activities that our parents' generation (and even our grandparents') had somewhat abandoned during the women's liberation movement. Things like canning and knitting and raising chickens have once again become popular, even chic, among today's moms. And the article (written by a mom herself) was raising the question of whether this domesticity might once again start to feel restrictive.

It struck a cord with me because I feel like I'm one of those moms who is walking the balance. I work full-time outside the home but want to embrace hands-on activities in the name of living green, living simply, and living (relatively) unplugged.

But sometimes it can definitely feel like a burden.

A blogger I read phrased it as the slide from "could to should." There are about a million cool ideas for "things you could be doing with and for your family" and it can be so easy to wander from -- "Huh, that is something I could do" to "that is something I should do in order to be a good mom."

For me, it's things like the rainbow birthday cake. Have you seen the rainbow birthday cake? It's a multi-layer cake with each layer a separate color, all frosted over with beautiful white frosting so you don't see the rainbow until you cut it open. The minute I first saw the rainbow cake on a blog, I immediately felt like I needed to make one. Never mind that my family cannot (and really should not) make cakes. I would be such a cool mom if I could make a cake like that.

It's an emotion that's wrapped up in the world of "mompetition" and a need to prove all the time (particularly if you're a working mom, I think) that you are a great mom, able to effortless balance the demands of life, work, and family. Making a rainbow cake would prove that to the world, right?

Ummmm....

The "Slippery Slope of Coulds" definitely appears around the holidays. I could make all my Christmas gifts by hand and wrap them in parchment paper decorated with my children's hand prints. I could bake elaborate cookie plates for all our neighbors. I could make my daughter's Christmas dress (well, probably not).

But I'm not going to do any of those things because I am prioritizing this Advent. I want to focus on the most important activities so that I don't get burned out trying to fit in all the less important ones.

A few of my non-negotiable items include: an open house at the parsonage for the members of our church, a cookie-decorating party with my daughters' friends, and going on a tour of Christmas lights. Anything else is optional!

Advent Unplugged: The Unbreakable Tree

2011-11-29T22:14:00.001-05:00

Advent Unplugged is about enjoying the holiday season with minimal stress. For me, this meant doing some serious soul-searching about my Christmas tree. I adore my Christmas tree. It symbolizes the essence of all that is magical about the holidays. I have been collecting ornaments for my tree since birth (thanks, mom!) and many of them are absolutely exquisite as well as being packed with sentimental value.

The problem is my son, who possesses a joie de vivre which the casual observer might easily mistake for suicidal tendencies.

Several weeks before the start of Advent, I started having a recurring nightmare in which Buggie tried to climb the tree and I stood rooted in place with horror, watching the whole thing come crashing to the floor.

I couldn't let that happen.

Rather than spending the next four weeks in a state of panic, I took a deep breath and gave my tree over to my children this year. I created the Unbreakable Tree.

Every single ornament adorning the (surprisingly-realistic-looking) artificial boughs of my tree has been deemed "kid-friendly." Even the ones up high. (See above-referenced nightmare about falling trees.)

I was actually surprised by how many nice ornaments I have that won't shatter into a million pieces if they should happen to come flying off their perches. Brass and sterling reindeer, a carved wooden moose on a sled, rattan woven angels, and engraved pewter bears all made the cut.

The lower branches still house the truly indestructible ornaments -- like the stuffed fabric angel who bears a striking resemblance to a sumo wrestler, the plastic Care Bears on a toboggan, and the carved wooden turtle -- and the children have permission to touch those. I try to encourage my offspring to leave the ornaments on the tree, but I'm not drawing lines in the sand because then I'd have to spend all my energy enforcing the "no removal" rule!

And my beautiful, fragile ornaments? Well, some of them are hanging on a small (real) evergreen that is sitting on top of my dresser, well out of range of small inquisitive beings. And the rest were packed back into their boxes after I lovingly took each one out to admire it briefly. They'll come out again when my littles are a bit bigger.

Do your kids and your Christmas tree coexist? What works in your house?

Advent Unplugged

2011-11-29T21:55:00.000-05:00

With the weekend's turkey-eating festivities slowly fading into a tryptophan-blurred memory, I'm launching headfirst into the Christmas season. I love Christmas. I love the ornaments and caroling and sledding parties and cookies and reindeer and lights. It makes me all tingly.

This Advent, I'm feeling a strong desire to get intentional about building our Christmas traditions, as Miss Mouse is old enough to enjoy all the activities of the season. What I want to guard against, however, is Christmas-overload. The holidays can get frenetic so easily and you can wind up cranky and fried by Christmas morning. I want to be sure that our celebrations and activities are focused around what's most important to me: making memories with my family.

I'll be posting some of our activities in a series I'm calling "Advent Unplugged." It's a reminder to me that the holidays are about more than the TV specials which are becoming increasingly prolific by the year. We're a pretty unplugged family most of the time anyways, and during the holidays, I think this central family value will serve us well, allowing us to spend more time baking cookies, decking the halls, and having impromptu Christmas carol dance parties. I want more magic and less stress in my holidays this year.

So come along with me as we celebrate the season!

You Can Have My House If You'll Take My Dog

2011-11-28T21:25:00.001-05:00

As we made plans for our Thanksgiving adventure, we had a challenge: what to do with the dog? My aunt is not a Dog Person and to be honest, the addition of a fifty-pound Labrador to a house already filled with 18 people would probably have been less than awesome.

But Riley doesn't like spending time at the kennel. We tried it only once, nearly five years ago and have never repeated the experience. And boarding your dog is an expensive proposition, the prospect of which did not fill me with joy. Sometimes we've been able to have friends and family dog-sit but we were coming up short for this trip.

Then inspiration struck.

I sent out an email to a bunch of parents from our daycare, with the following offer: they were welcome to use our home to house out-of-town guests for the weekend if said guests would be willing to take care of our dog.

It seemed totally reasonable to me and, sure enough, one mom wrote back promptly to take me up on the offer. It really worked out great. Her mother and mother-in-law stayed at our house each evening and various family members came over throughout the day to facilitate bathroom breaks and mealtimes for our furball.

Riley avoided the stress of being kenneled. My friend was able to give herself some breathing room at her house by stashing her relatives at mine. I didn't have to fork over a couple hundred bucks to let a stranger feed and shelter my dog. Everybody wins!

A Christmas throwback, but with turkey

2011-11-26T20:31:00.001-05:00

We spent Thanksgiving at my aunt's house in Cincinnati and it was fabulous. At our peak, we had eighteen folks milling around the house, four of them under the age of six. Miss Mouse and Buggie connected with a pair of second cousins they rarely see and were over the moon. I connected with a pair of first cousins I rarely see and was over the moon. Josh was fed a variety of strange and unusual foods, but he survived.

What was particularly cool about this trip was that it felt like Christmas from my childhood. Every year, my mother's siblings (three sisters and a brother) and their kids would gather at my grandparents house for the holidays. It was everything you could want as a kid: games and singing and cookies and putting on plays and sledding and dogs and cousins and so much love it radiated from the windows and probably kept the neighbors awake.

As we've gotten older, the family still gathers, but we rarely all manage to be in the same place at the same holiday. It's just harder now with more people and more in-laws to juggle and more distance between us. And, as we got older, the holidays naturally became more "grown up." Still fun, but a bit less foolishness as my cousins and I slowly morphed into adults.

But now we're on round two because there's a new crop of little people stampeding around the house. Having kids around again and a full house of family (four of five of the siblings made it for turkey day) made the visit particularly magical.

We went for walks in the neighborhood and clambered around on a nearby playground, seeing which grownup dared attempt to wedge themselves into the tube slide while Miss Mouse shrieked and egged us on.

I watched my cousin patiently collect leaves with Miss Mouse and help her iron them between layers of waxed paper for a beautiful craft. And I nearly died laughing as Buggie attempted to play "duck duck goose" with his older cousins, waddling purposefully around the room after them as they raced in circles.

We all crowded around the kitchen table to decorate gingerbread houses, the adults carefully creating "terracotta" roof tiles out of sliced gum drops while the kids joyously and haphazardly slathered icing and candy bits onto all available surfaces (including the table).

There was music, of course. When my family gathers, music ensues. My ninety-one-year-old grandpa and my mom and uncle performed a few numbers that included violin, piano, voice, guitar, and harmonica at various points. And we all sang a few Christmas carols because -- why not? Watching Buggie toddle around from lap to lap brought back a lot of memories of wrangling my younger cousins at holidays gone by.

And we ate. A lot. There was soup and homemade bread and turkey and mashed potatoes and baked goods by the thousands. Scones and muffins and cookies and fudge and quick breads. Egg casseroles in the morning and honey-baked ham sandwiches at whatever hour you needed to munch on something.

After the kids were in bed, the grown-ups talked politics and played a few fast and furious rounds of Bananagrams, my cousins and I shuffling our tiles frantically while our parents looked on and shouted out suggestions.

It was awesome. It's exactly what I want from my holidays. And it's a big part of why I have always wanted to have a big family. Holidays are meant to be shared. You're supposed to cram your house full of food and family and laughter because you know that the memories you're creating are what it's all about.

The Preschool Perspective

2011-11-23T14:36:00.001-05:00

Here's yet another example of how having children enriches your life experiences. I am excited about seeing my family for Thanksgiving.

Miss Mouse, on the other hand, is borderline manic in her excitement.

She has been bouncing off the walls for days, delirious at the prospect of seeing her grandparents, aunts, and cousins. All of her teachers at school (and some who aren't even her teachers) know all about her aunt: where she lives, what her house is like, what her cat's name is, and that we're bringing cookies and muffins to share with her.

It's infectious. My own enthusiasm about the weekend piggy-backs on hers and I find myself bouncing up and down on my toes at the prospect of the gathering.

We've been in countdown mode since the weekend. It went like this: "Today is Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday. You'll go to school. Then the next day is Tuesday and you'll go to school again. Then on Wednesday, when we pick you up from school, we'll go to Thanksgiving."

And, at last, the much-anticipated day has arrived. Oh joy! Oh bliss! My daughter woke up in full Thanksgiving frenzy and was on her best behavior at breakfast. She shooed me out the door at school with a chipper "hurry!" -- presumably assuming that the faster I went to work, the faster I'd come back.

Thus we're off. I've got my millions of muffins and other assorted baked goods, way more wardrobe options than necessary and a large (but still probably not large enough) box of activities to keep my children occupied in the car and to (hopefully) prevent them from destroying either themselves or my aunt's house this weekend. Onward!*

* And if you're a weirdy reading this and thinking my house is empty and easy picking for a little Black Friday break-in: think again. Our house is actually inhabited, thank-you-very-much (blog forthcoming). So bugger off.

A Philosophy of Baked Goods

2011-11-22T22:58:00.001-05:00

When it comes to baked goods, I have a pretty simple mantra: Go Big or Go Home. As long as you've got the ingredients out, why not double the recipe? Or make a couple variations? Cookies, muffins, and scones all freeze well so there's really no down side to have a lot of baked bread products on hand.

I took a few hours off work this afternoon so that I could dedicate myself to baking. I'd been tasked with bringing some edibles to my family's Thanksgiving festivities and I took the challenge seriously. And when I take time off work, I expect to have something to show for it. Like nine dozen muffins.

I've got several dozen in the freezer for future breakfasts, several dozen packed and ready to head West tomorrow, and a few set aside to share with co-workers. There's two varieties in there: pumpkin chocolate chip and spicy sausage and corn.

I've got pumpkin spice scones in the freezer and the world's best sugar cookies (cut into turkeys, leaves, and pumpkins) drying on my dining room table. Oh yes, we'll be eating well this weekend.

My Son's Decision-Making: A Flowchart

2011-11-21T21:15:00.001-05:00

He may only be 14 months old (almost) but my son has a pretty sophisticated decision-making protocol. It looks something like this:

I don't know if it's because he's the second-born or if it's because he's a boy, but my son appears to be lacking some sort of common-sense mechanism possessed by normal human beings.

He's like a two-and-a-half foot tall Evel Knievel. Without the motorcycle (thank goodness). He tries to chew on my computer cord. He launches himself face-first off of couches, beds, and playground equipment. He routinely attempts to stick his finger into light sockets -- after pulling out whatever was previously plugged in.

And he climbs. Oh, lord, he climbs. Onto chairs, over barricades, onto bookshelves. He seems to believe his family lineage includes Spiderman. It doesn't.

When he's on an exploratory rampage, Josh and I are never quite sure whether to laugh hysterically or frantically chase after him holding pillows!

He looks harmless. Don't believe it.

Mousie See Mousie Do

2011-11-19T11:18:00.000-05:00

After just over a year of big sisterdom, Miss Mouse has picked up some good mommy moves (like bossing her little brother around, curtailing his activities). It's fun to watch her mothering her baby dolls. She is so tender and solicitous.

She takes her dolls for walks around the living room, waving jauntily and announcing that they're off to the zoo together. She changes their diapers, announcing with zeal that "Annie pooped all over the floor! Eww!"

And she snuggles. That's the part I can't get enough of. Watching her rock her baby dolls, telling them stories, makes my heart sing. Every time.

All Kinds of Bossy

2011-11-18T20:58:00.001-05:00

Miss Mouse has adored her baby brother since the moment we brought him home. Thank goodness. I'm not quite sure how I would have handled any requests to return him to whatever cabbage patch he came from. No, if anything, my son is most at risk from death by excessive love. She hugs, she squeezes, she sits on him and bounces affectionately.

Lately, she's working on honing her maternal instincts. She's decided that she needs to take care of her little brother, keep him on the straight and narrow.

In short, she's morphed into the most bossy three-year-old tyrant you've ever seen.

"Buggie," she snaps. "I've told you three times to stop taking my toys. I told you! Uh oh. I'm sorry. Now I have to take this toy and put it away."

Or she'll pull out that great motherly line that I fear she learned from me -- "Buggie, I'm going to count to three..."

She's also taken to following him around the room, preventing him for engaging in any unsafe behaviors. Like climbing stairs. Or pulling books off the shelf. Or walking. Unfortunately for Buggie, her most common rescue maneuver is to grab him around the neck and pull him down to the floor.

But her mom moves have a sweet side, too. When Buggie cries, big sister is at his side in a flash. "It's okay, baby brother," she coos as she chokes him with enthusiastic hugs, "Big sister is here."

It's pretty awesome.

Redemptive Cuteness

2011-11-17T21:25:00.000-05:00

When she's in a bad mood, my firstborn is a force to be reckoned with. And she has a whine that could make Mother Theresa strangle someone (like her).

But when it comes to total, complete, stop-you-in-your-tracks cuteness? She's got that down, too.

And it's pretty hard to stay mad at a three-year-old sporting a winsome smile, a set of bangle bracelets, a flower lei...and a pig nose.

Learning with Fruit Leather

2011-11-16T21:22:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, Josh and I spent much of Saturday at an adoption conference which -- mercifully, blessedly, thankfully -- provided free childcare to attendees. The conference ran from 8am to 1pm so we were asked to send a lunch for the munchkins.

This gave me the opportunity to pack a bento box, a project I hadn't undertaken in a while. (Well, actually I packed two - Buggie got his very own, virtually identical lunch in his very own purple bento box.) Miss Mouse was thrilled to be able to carry her lunchbox with her on this grand adventure and I didn't let her peek inside before dropping her off.

When she popped open the lid, the following repast awaited:

Sunbutter and Jelly Sandwich Fingers (no crusts, of course)
Mandarin Oranges
"Shark Fish" crackers
Strawberry Cereal Bar
Juice Box

And...some artfully cut fruit leather. It's cheesy and silly but I am a huge fan of using cookie cutters on fruit leather. It just adds such a nice touch to the lunch. Plus, Miss Mouse can practice her letters!

The Dreaded Headache

2011-11-13T21:43:00.001-05:00

I've added a new trick to my "bag-o-parenting-tools" -- the Dreaded Headache. It's proving to be quite effective in my War Against the Whine. Miss Mouse whines. A lot. All the time. Constantly. When she's not whining, she's sobbing piteously about some perceived injustice, slight, or life-ending disaster (including but not limited to: a Cheerio that fell out of her bowl, not being asked what flavor yogurt she wanted for dinner, being asked to share her toys with her brother, being asked to wear underpants, and being licked by the dog).

It's wearying.

I needed some sort of consequence that I could dole out in these circumstances that was logical. One of the central tenants of the Love and Logic school of discipline is that the punishment needs to make sense to the miscreant. The idea is for the consequence to derive so naturally from the behavior that the misbehaving child has no way to blame anyone but herself for what happens. I want to try to keep her from getting mad at me because if she can blame me, she won't learn. I need her to blame herself.

My first successful application of the Dreaded Headache happened about a week ago. Josh was at a meeting and bedtime didn't go well in his absence. Miss Mouse was a massive pain in the rear as I tried to put her little brother to bed -- stomping, pouting, and wailing outside his door the whole time. Thanks, sweetie.

When I finally got Buggie tucked in, Miss Mouse instantly asked to do puzzles, which is what we usually do post-Buggie bedtime.

"Oh, honey," said I. "My head hurts so much from all that whining and crying that I just can't do puzzles right now. I need to lie down. What a bummer."

She was instantly filled with remorse, but I stood firm for a few minutes. Then, inspiration "struck."

"Oh! Miss Mouse! Do you know what might make my head feel better? If you put away all the music toys into their box in the living room all by yourself."

She didn't like this plan and tried to cajole me into helping her, but I wasn't budging. And, lo and behold, after fussing for a minute she set to work, cleaning up the living room. When she was done, I proclaimed my headache cured and we did a puzzle together.

And thus the Dreaded Headache was born. It was beautiful. She couldn't really get mad at me for having a headache when she was the cause of the headache. A grown-up would probably see right through this, but to a three-year-old, it makes perfect sense.

The Dreaded Headache has appeared a few times since and now I can sometimes get away with just invoking its specter -- "Ooooh. My head is starting to hurt from that whining..." -- and she'll shape up.

Is it a magic cure? Is the whining gone forever? Not hardly. The key to all parenting, I'm learning, is consistency. I'm making a concerted effort to nip the whining in the bud each and every time (which is exhausting) and am hoping it makes a difference!

I feel like a million bucks, but I only paid eight

2011-11-11T20:03:00.000-05:00

What is it about new clothes? They have the magical ability to put a spring in my step, make the weather better, and cause my children to behave. Or at least it feels that way.

I love to shop, but these days I'm living on a budget that doesn't allow for much retail therapy. But for my birthday last weekend, I treated myself to a little shopping spree. I cashed in some credit card points for a GAP gift card and my fabulous husband gave me an Ann Taylor gift card. But his real gift was agreeing to watch the kiddos at home while my aunt and I hit the outlet mall together.

Oh, outlet malls. How do I love thee?

I know not everyone does, but I usually have great luck at an outlet mall. Two examples from this weekend. At the GAP, I discovered some exquisite v-neck sweaters for $15 (down from $50). I found myself torn between a few colors. The easy answer? By all three.

Then there were the Ann Taylor blouses that were marked down to $8 from $49.99. Be still my heart.

That's not me (notice the long hair).
But I look almost that good in that shirt...

The fact that I was buying clothes one size smaller than virtually everything I own took the experience from "fun" to "fantastic." Size 10 jeans and blouses and medium sweaters for the first time since I got pregnant almost four years ago.

I don't have any illusions that it's going to be easy to stay this size. I'm 30 now, remember? The days of easy weight loss are gone, if they ever really existed. I've gotten pretty lazy about eating light (the pumpkin cake for my birthday was divine), but I'm in a really good rhythm for exercise. I hit the elliptical machine hard at least five days a week so I'm holding my own for now.

And I've got the new clothes to prove it!

Fish Fish and Remembering

2011-11-10T20:52:00.001-05:00

Have you ever tried to play an organized game with a three-year-old? Not a game of "let's make fruit and fish soup in the play kitchen while singing songs and wearing a fireman's hat." That's easy. I'm talking about an actual game with actual rules. Like Go Fish, for example.

Hercules, eat your heart out. Your challenges got nothing on this one.

I bought Miss Mouse a Disney Princess Go Fish deck, mostly for the pictures. A few days ago, Josh managed to get her to hold still long enough to (sort of) learn how to play. And now she wants to play "Fish Fish" all the time. She and Josh seem to do really well at it. I see them perched on the couch studying their cards and hear her chirp "Do you have any Belles, daddy?"

When I try to play with her, I feel like my head is going to explode. She fidgets and sits on her cards, scattering them everywhere. She insists on asking for cards she doesn't have. She gets mad when I get a pair. It makes me crazy.

I suspect that the problem is more on my end than hers. She's three. And me? I'm incredibly competitive and rule-oriented when it comes to games. And that makes it hard for me to have the patience to play with her. Josh, on the other hand, is completely laid back about games (which is why he refuses to play them with me) and is happy to go with the flow.

I think this also explains why he is the only one who can teach her things like the rules to Go Fish. I want her to listen carefully as I explain the rules, then follow them. Ha. She senses my need for order and responds with chaos. For Josh, she listens.

The same problem occurs when I try to play "Memory" with her. You know, the game where you put a bunch of pairs of cards face down then flip them over two at a time, trying to remember where the matches are. She is actually incredibly good at it. It's eerie. She can be only half paying attention but when you say -- "Now, where was the other tiger?" -- she instantly picks it out...

...when she's playing with Josh. When she's playing with me, she starts frenetically overturning cards, blatantly disregarding the rule that you can only turn over two at a time. Oh, the pain.

Retaliation

2011-11-07T21:27:00.002-05:00

Buggie and Miss Mouse have entered a new phase in their relationship. It's the "Buggie is now big enough to fight back when pushed, pulled, sat-upon, or otherwise abused by his sister" phase. I suspect this new dynamic will be the status quo for the next twenty or so years, with the only potential change taking the form of escalation.

While 85% of the time they get along swimmingly, the remaining 15% of their interactions go something like this:

Buggie is sitting by himself with a toy or book.

Miss Mouse comes over and takes said toy or book.

With shocking speed and hand-eye coordination, Buggie reaches out, takes a firm grip on Miss Mouse's hair, and pulls. Hard.

Miss Mouse shrieks and shoves Buggie.

Buggie shoves back.

Miss Mouse lunges for Buggie, only to be restrained by Mommy who separates the combatants.

And, repeat.

For now, Miss Mouse has the upper hand. She's stronger and bigger than he is and if she wants him to stay in a laundry basket, by gum, he's stuck.

But, Miss Mouse only outweighs her baby brother by about seven pounds so I suspect her days of supremacy are numbered.

The Big 30

2011-11-05T21:14:00.001-04:00

I turned 30 today.

It's a milestone birthday, I suppose, marking the end of my carefree youth (as if the stretch marks and gray hairs hadn't already done that). I'm well and truly a grown up now!

I actually had no problems making the transition. I know plenty of friends who struggled with their thirtieth birthdays, but I'm ready to embrace a new decade. After all, I feel like I've accomplished a lot in the past ten years...

...I graduated from college.

...I graduated from seminary.

...I spent a year abroad, learned a new language, and mastered the art of riding side-saddle on a motorcycle while wearing a sari.

...I got married.

...I welcomed a rescue dog into my home and my heart.

...I got my first job.

...I had a child.

...Then another one.

...I got a new job (which I love).

...I laughed, cried, danced, sang, rocked babies, wiped noses, cooked dinners, baked cookies, read stories, wrote blogs, played hide-and-seek, and jumped into leaf piles.

If all that happened in the last ten years, can you imagine what the next ten will bring?

Baby-Led Solids: The Final Verdict

2011-11-03T21:09:00.002-04:00

Now that Buggie is well and truly weaned -- no bottle, no bink -- it seemed like a good moment for some final reflections on our baby-led solids adventure. If you missed the start of this conversation, take a look back at the premise of baby-led solids as well as the history of baby food. It's fascinating stuff.

Having read up on the topic, I became a convert to the school of baby-led solids and Buggie never had any baby food. Seven months later, would I do it that way again?

Heck Yeah.

I'm not just a convert anymore. I'm a zealot. I cannot fathom why I ever spent hours pureeing food for Miss Mouse and I'm appalled by the baby food industry in general. The price, the questionable ingredients, the price, the nasty flavor combos -- did I mention the price? Plus, baby-led solids just worked so darned well. Buggie started right in on bananas, graduated quickly to pasta, and has never looked back.

I see three main benefits to the BLS approach, at least in terms of how it impacted our family:

1) Family Dinners Work Earlier -- It took us a long time to incorporate Miss Mouse into our family dinners. It wasn't until she was really comfortable eating "table food" that we included her in meals. For many months, her non-bottle dining was done solo, strapped into her high chair while I spoon fed her stuff in the kitchen. We ate after she was in bed. It was just easier that way, rather than trying to coax spoonfuls of mush into her mouth while also trying to eat myself.

Buggie joined the dinner table immediately. Some of this is probably second-baby syndrome, but since he was managing his own meals from the start, it was no big deal to pull his high chair up to the table and let him gnaw on his food while we had ours. Family dinners are really good things, so I'm thrilled that he was able to be a part of them early on.

2) It's Just So Easy -- Making baby food isn't hard. You cook some fruits and/or veggies and puree them in a blender. But it is definitely more work than just slapping some of whatever you're eating on a plate for your offspring! Granted, we had to do some tweaking to our meals early on to be sure that the pieces we served were Buggie-approved (big enough to hold, soft enough to gum, etc.), but on the whole BLS made dinnertime prep a snap.

3) BLS Promotes Adventurous Eating -- Buggie will eat anything (including injera). Miss Mouse eats virtually nothing. Some of that is personality. But I firmly believe that the BLS approach has helped mold Buggie into the food-lover that he is. He loves to eat. He wants to try everything and gets mad if he spots a side dish that isn't on his plate. It brings me endless joy to watch him pack away with gusto the dinners I prepare.

Miss Mouse's biggest stumbling block is that she Will Not Try New Things. She won't put them in her mouth. And she's been that way since she was first eating table food. Buggie, on the other hand, has always had the freedom to explore his food. He was never "force fed" anything. He picked things up. He licked them. He spit them back out. He sniffed them. He rubbed them on his head. It's all led to a fascination with food and a willingness to try just about anything.

I suspect there may be other side benefits as well. Buggie has really good hand-eye coordination and I wonder if that may also be a product of manipulating his food from an early age. You have to develop decent coordination to get a piece of food into your mouth.

Somehow I doubt there will be a revolution against the baby food companies anytime soon, but I've convinced a couple friends to try baby-led solids so I feel like I've done my part for the movement!

A Soggy, Sticky, Smiley Tiger

2011-10-31T21:53:00.003-04:00

Tonight was our first "real" Halloween with a child old enough to know that saying "tick or treat" will yield candy. It rained, of course. Most of my memories of Halloween as a child involve rain. Sometimes snow. It's tradition. It didn't slow us down, though apparently the other neighborhood kids are made of less stern stuff because we didn't get a single tick-or-treator at our house. Not one. (Being at the bottom of a steep hill probably doesn't help.)

The dearth of kids may have also explained the phenomenon whereby we visited exactly six houses, but managed to come home with a couple pounds of candy.

Seriously. One woman literally gave Miss Mouse three big handfuls of mini-chocolate bars. Egad. We let her eat three and she carefully selected M&M's, a Kit Kat and a Baby Ruth. Of them, she really only liked the M&M's.

Buggie thought perhaps he needed candy as well, but he was wrong. Poor little dinosaur.

The quandary for tomorrow is this: what to do with the extra candy? I'm not gonna let Miss Mouse eat all of that, even if she does space it out over a few days. Our current plan is to be matter of fact -- candy is for Halloween and Halloween is now over. Thus the candy is gone. Life goes on.

Maybe I can offload the remainder at work...

How to Cook a Pumpkin in a Crockpot

2011-10-30T15:47:00.000-04:00

It's definitely easier to crack open a can of smushed up pumpkin if you have a sudden desire to do some harvest baking. But if you find yourself with an actual pumpkin on hand (say, if you went to a pumpkin patch with a bunch of preschoolers but then realized you're never going to get around to carving the darned thing), it's pretty easy to cook one yourself, too.

The "traditional" method is to cut the pumpkin open and roast it in the oven. But if your oven happens to be full of pumpkin spice scones or pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (as mine has been, of late), you can actually cook a pumpkin in a crock pot, too.

First, cut the pumpkin in half. Easier said than done, I know. I used a bread knife because it was serrated and big. Scrape out all the insides and seeds (feel free to cook those, though I'm not a fan of pumpkin seeds). Cut your pumpkin into chunks that will fit in your crock pot. Add enough water to cover the bottom of the pot and come up about 3/4 of an inch on the sides. Cover and cook on high for four hours.

Then you scrape the pumpkin flesh off the rind and puree it in a food processor. Whenever you cook and squish pumpkin (though especially in the crock pot), it's worth draining it through a cheesecloth because it tends to get a bit watery. And, voila! Pumpkin puree, ready to bake with.

I actually made a spreadsheet of pumpkin recipes. Don't laugh. It's good sense! I scoured all my cookbooks for pumpkin dishes that looked yummy -- everything from pumpkin waffles to pumpkin lentil soup to pumpkin bars -- then put the cookbook and page number (or web address for the online recipes I've found lately) in the spreadsheet.

I also noted any unusual ingredients that I might not have readily available. Most pumpkin baking calls for pretty standard ingredients but if you're going to make pumpkin bars, for example, you need to be sure you have cream cheese on hand. Pumpkin waffles require a container of vanilla yogurt. That sort of thing.

Now, when I get a pumpkin-cooking yen, I can just consult my spreadsheet to find a good recipe and leap into action. I'm planning to try pumpkin fudge this evening...

Darwinian Motivations for Bipedalism

2011-10-29T21:32:00.001-04:00

Scientists theorize that our quadrupedal, ape-ish ancestors were motivated to start walking upright about the same time they figured out how to make and use tools. It's remarkably difficult to carry something while crawling on all fours, opposable thumb or no.

I've noticed the same process playing out with my son over the past few weeks. After starting to take solo steps over a month ago, Buggie has finally settled into a mostly-bipedal form of locomotion (though he still can't stand up by himself -- he pulls up then takes off). I think this is why:

His greatest love at the moment, apart from his sister, is books. When you set him on the floor, he usually makes a beeline for the bookshelf, selects a favorite tome, waddles over with it, and climbs into your lap. It's pretty hard to mistake his intentions.

If there's no parent immediately available to read to him, Buggie is pretty happy "reading" by himself, too.

Wait, the picture is good, but it's better with sound...

Snow Day

2011-10-29T21:14:00.001-04:00

It snowed today. Yes, we still live in Pittsburgh. Yes, it's still October.

If Josh and I were still a newly married couple with no children, we'd have glared out the window and then curled up on the couch with our books and maybe a mug of hot chocolate.

Instead, we gave in to the frenetic excitement of our three-year-old who was running laps around the living room and begging to go outside and "crunch the snow." We dug out our winter wear (discovering in the process that neither child has boots that fit them!), bundled up, and headed out.

Miss Mouse was ecstatic and busily began collecting as much of the pathetic dusting of snow as she could in her Halloween plastic pumpkin. The fact that she wasn't wearing gloves didn't really slow her down.

Buggie on the other hand, reacted in much the same way that Miss Mouse did at his age: abject horror at the frozen particles falling from the sky. Poor Buggie.

When we (and by "we" I mean Josh and I) had had enough of the slushy mess, we dragged Miss Mouse back inside by promising to make pumpkin cookies together. Which we did. She sat at the kitchen island, industriously mixing bowls of flour, kneading it purposefully into her Play Doh. I strapped Buggie into his high chair with some veggie puffs and the two of them were happy as clams while I did the heavy ~~lifting~~ baking.

It was a blissful morning. And may I just say: pumpkin cookies are awesome.

The Trouble with Harvest Parties

2011-10-27T21:56:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, there were "Harvest Parties" -- complete with costume parades -- at Miss Mouse and Buggie's daycare. As with an earlier holiday party at school, it seemed like a really good idea...

...but actually wasn't.

I took the day off work because Buggie's party was in the morning, Mousie's was in the afternoon, and we had an adoption-related errand to run mid-day (biometric fingerprinting -- how official!). The difficulties began almost immediately when my wee dinosaur decided he was very unsure about his (insanely adorable) costume.

He rallied a bit when he saw that his friends looked at least as silly as he did, if not more so (see: skunk).

Unfortunately, his big sister had a meltdown when she realized I was a) in the building but b) leaving again without her. Yikes. It also poured down rain so the 'costume parade' that was supposed to take place outside on the playground actually took place in a crowded hallway.

But, I returned in the afternoon undaunted and ready for a preschool Harvest Party of epic proportions. It was epic all right. Lots of tears. Lots of whining. And one small tiger with pigtails attempting to rip her costume off in the hallway.

In fairness, it really is asking a lot of little kids to understand and enjoy that sort of party. There are way too many parents, the events are usually not all that well organized, and Halloween costumes can be a bit tricky.

But the event wasn't a total loss. I did get this fabulous picture:

And this one, which seems like an ideal postscript to our conversations about princesses.

And, at the end of the day, twenty three-year-olds in Halloween costumes are pretty darned cute.

Bink Be Gone

2011-10-26T09:30:00.000-04:00

See this?

Good thing we took a picture because it's a sight you won't see anymore at our house (the binkie, not the snuggling with Papu). I'm ready to pronounce Buggie binkie-free. He's been clean just over a week, with his last binkie fix taking place last Tuesday night, and I think we're in the clear.

I expected the de-binkification to be a long and arduous process because Buggie seemed pretty fond of the thing. Unlike Miss Mouse who was never particularly attached to a binkie and who had completely given it up by the age of nine months, I anticipated a fight with my boy child.

It turned out to be pretty anticlimactic.

We've been undergoing a whole bedtime transition with my Bed Bug. Around his first birthday, we took away his bedtime bottle, at which point he was completely weaned. We replaced the bottle with a sippy cup and let him drink it while we read stories. Then I'd turn off the lights, give him the pacifier, and rock him for a few minutes until he fell asleep. Buggie was always a good sleeper -- five minutes tops and he'd be out cold.

When we took away the bottle, that started to change. He didn't fall as easily to sleep and would sometimes flail about when I tried to rock him. Then last Tuesday, I bit the bullet and took away the binkie. Interestingly, his response has been to stop wanting to rock. Within a week, his new bedtime routine looks like this:

Bath

Stories with sippy cup

Lights off

Hug from mommy

Into the crib (wide awake)

Good night!

He's moved to putting himself to sleep totally without assistance. He usually squawks for about a minute after I leave the room, sometimes less. Then he's out.

I was flabbergasted by the whole process. I had envisioned having to rock him for eons to get him to fall asleep without the binkie. It never occurred to me that he would opt for a solo bedtime on his own. But I'm definitely not complaining!

We have introduced a brief morning rock, though, since I still want to snuggle. When he comes out of the crib in the morning, we head to the rocking chair for a few minutes, so he can nestle against my shoulder and blink sleepily before we launch into the day.

In which I grudgingly embrace chocolate milk

2011-10-24T21:15:00.001-04:00

As much as I enjoy watching my daughter's face light up at the sight of a cupcake, I'm not a big fan of my kids ingesting lots of sugar. I recognize that this is ironic and perhaps even hypocritical in light of my own sweet tooth, but that's the way it is.

Thus it is with deep reservations that I have been serving Miss Mouse a big glass of chocolate milk each morning with breakfast.

My wee girl is a severely picky eater. And drinker. She doesn't do much of either and I was getting concerned that a) she was getting dehydrated and b) she wasn't getting anywhere near enough calcium. I attempted to address the latter worry by offering her more yogurt and cheese. She'd take two bites and lose interest. Ditto broccoli.

So I chatted with the pediatrician who convinced me that the sugar in chocolate milk was the lesser of two evils, wherein the other evil was future osteoporosis. He reassured me that one glass of chocolate milk a day wasn't going to cause her teeth to immediately rot and fall out.

Miss Mouse is in heaven. She cheerfully knocks back her chocolatey breakfast beverage each morning and then we sprint with her upstairs to brush her teeth.

Ah, the chocolate milk mustache

Multi-Tasking Meals (How to Cook When You Have Kids)

2011-10-22T14:05:00.000-04:00

I've still got the harvest cooking bug. Today I made another batch of homemade applesauce (which is absolutely outstanding on waffles, if anyone is curious), a no-bake pumpkin pie, and a batch of sweet potato chili.

I'm learning that the keys to cooking when you've got kids are: figuring out ways to multi-task and learning how to most efficiently use your time. A few examples:

When I made pumpkin chocolate chip muffins a few days ago, I prepped the dry ingredients while Miss Mouse was having her bath. After hugs and kisses, Josh took her up to bed while I finished mixing everything together. I threw the muffins in the oven and raced downstairs to the elliptical machine. I did a twenty-minute workout while the muffins baked, finishing up just as the timer went off.

This morning, I peeled and chopped a million apples while the kids were having their morning snack. Buggie was strapped into the high chair and Miss Mouse munched on apple slices. Josh hung out at the table too, so it was good family time in addition to being productive cook time!

The pumpkin pie literally only took 10 minutes to put together so I just waited until the kids were both engaged in some sort of activity, then popped into the kitchen.

Finally, I took advantage of nap time to make the chili for a church potluck supper tonight. It's kind of a weird recipe, which is why I'm making it at a time when my family doesn't have to eat it all!

It's easy to feel like you don't have time to cook when you have kids. And it's definitely more of a challenge, especially now that Buggie is a bit big to wear like a backpack while I cook. But if you plan ahead, multi-task, and time your cooking right, you can still do it!

Fall Foodie Binge

2011-10-20T21:59:00.001-04:00

photo by MllePeterson

I love to cook but I tend to go in waves. I won't have the energy to do much more than get a basic dinner on the table for weeks and then suddenly I get an itch and go into a cooking frenzy. It happened this week, starting with my first-even attempt at homemade applesauce. I cooked up a vat in my crock pot while working from home on Monday. It was delicious.

Today, it's 45 degrees, cloudy, and blustery. Perfect harvest cooking weather. Is there anything better than a freshly-baked pumpkin muffin on a gloomy chilly evening? I thought not. I whipped up a big batch of Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins tonight after the kiddos were in bed. I ended up with twelve big muffins and 24 mini-muffins. I'm planning to freeze most of them to dole out on future mornings as a nice breakfast nibblet for the kiddos (and myself).
It was the first time I'd ever cooked with pumpkin. My mother is a notorious pumpkin-hater and some of her prejudice had rubbed off on me. It's only been in recent years that I have begun to tentatively embrace pumpkins as a food source and not just a Halloween decoration, though I'm still very skeptical of pumpkin pie.

Similarly, I'm fairly new to the world of butternut squash (I again blame my mother) but it's quickly becoming one of my favorite vegetables. Sadly, my husband and children side with my mom so I'm usually eating it solo. Tonight, we had meatloaf and mashed potatoes but in addition to the spuds, I roasted some squash. It was heavenly. But since I was the only one who ate it, there was a lot left over. What to do?

Make butternut squash soup, of course.

Thus I give you my newly-created recipe for Roasted Butternut Squash Soup. It's a bit imprecise but it's forgiving so that's okay.

1 butternut squash, peeled and chopped
1 Tbs olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp dried rosemary
1 1/2 cups of chicken broth
1-2 cups of water

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and spray it with cooking spray. In a large bowl, toss the squash cubes with the olive oil, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Spread the squash cubes on the baking tray and bake for 12 minutes. Remove tray, stir squash, then bake for another 8 minutes.

At this point, you can pause and devour a big bowl of the delicious squash nuggets. They're sort of like candy, so indulge a bit before proceeding.

Puree the squash with 1 cup of chicken broth in a food processor or blender. Transfer puree to a large saucepan and stir in the additional 1/2 cup of chicken broth and as much water as you need to reach the desired consistency. You'll end up needing a lot of liquid or your "soup" will more closely resemble herb-infused baby food!

More than just a pretty face

2011-10-18T22:06:00.000-04:00

I read a pretty mind-blowing article today on Huffington Post. It was called How to Talk to Little Girls. The upshot of it is that the first words out of our mouths when we (as in "society as a whole") talk to little girls is to talk about their looks. "Oh, aren't you pretty," we gush. And the article begs the question: is it any wonder that our girls grow up to be hyper-conscious of their looks in all kinds of unhealthy ways when, from the time they can toddle, we send them the implicit message that their key attribute is their looks?

Wow. Guilty as charged. I mean, it's hard not to gush over something as shockingly adorable as a three-year-old with gigantic brown eyes, long lashes, and enough sparkle to power a small city.

But it got me thinking about other ways that I send Miss Mouse that same message. Like with her growing love for Disney Princesses. Just this week I got her a deck of Go Fish cards adorned with the lovely ladies. And what do I usually say when she holds one up for inspection? "Oh, isn't she beautiful?" Every time.

So this afternoon I made a concerted effort to change the paradigm. Today, we talked about Hobbies of the Princesses. It took a bit of creative thinking because honestly, those girls don't always have a whole lot of depth to them, but we came up with the following list:

Ariel -- likes to sing and swim (obviously!)
Belle -- likes to read (you remember that opening sequence, right?)
Cinderella -- likes to sew (enchanted spinning wheel...a bit of a stretch)

Sleeping Beauty -- enjoys spending time outside with woodland creatures

Jasmine -- loves animals, like her pet tiger
Mulan -- is a warrior and is very brave

Not too shabby. Miss Mouse was absolutely captivated by this exercise and we spent a lot of time talking about the likes and dislikes of our pack of princesses. We talked about what Belle's favorite books are and what Miss Mouse's are. We talked about our favorite animals. We talked about how fun it is to walk around outside barefoot like Sleeping Beauty does.

Not once did we discuss the physical splendor of the princesses. It's a small step, but it felt really good!

The Present

2011-10-16T13:14:00.000-04:00

For her birthday, we got Miss Mouse a puppy.

Just kidding. Do I look crazy?

That puppy belongs to my best friend, but we went to visit him yesterday as part of Miss Mouse's birthday festivities. Actually, he would have made a terrible birthday present as Miss Mouse could not have been less interested in the small furry critter. She was much more keen on scavenging around the house for toys, ultimately landing on a Britney Spears action figure left over from our college days. She called Britney a princess. We quickly hid the doll and tried to change the subject before Mousie noticed and commented on the doll's (very visible, of course) pink panties...

No, the Big Gift (in addition to a fabulous set of Tinkerbell sheets from Nana and Papu and a new puzzle and game from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Don) was a dollhouse.

My folks and I went in together to get Miss Mouse an exquisite, fully-furnished dollhouse. In honor of our pending adoption, I bought two sets of people, white and black, then mixed them up to giver her an interracial family. I have no idea how much that sort of thing really registers with a three-year-old but they do say that it's the little, subconscious things that can really help shape their worldview.

Anyways, the dollhouse was a big hit. Miss Mouse is engaging in more and more creative and imaginative play and I think that her new toy will help her develop that even more. She immediately identified and named her family (after our family, of course) and introduced them to their new abode. She set about taking breakfast orders, bathing the kids, and tucking everyone into bed for naps.

Buggie was also quite enamored of the gift. Miss Mouse wavered between generously welcoming him to play with her and shoving him out of the way when he actually put a finger on her toys. Ah, siblings.

A Super Fantastic Day of Awesomeness

2011-10-15T21:01:00.002-04:00

My daughter turned three today. I'm not sure how it's possible, but each and every day for the past three years, I've discovered that I love her even more than I did the day before. She is smart, and funny, and knock-you-down beautiful. She's also sassy, and moody, and whiny. She's three all right and I love her so much it takes my breath away.

This is the first year she really knew her birthday was coming and got psyched up for it so we tried to make it awesome for her.

It started with breakfast. When she got up, she was met by balloons, a pop tart and chocolate milk for breakfast, and a lovely Birthday Fairy hanging from her chair.

The Birthday Fairy is a carry-over from my childhood. She has a beautiful porcelain face and a tiny pocket on her back, just big enough for one wee present. She always hung on my door the morning of my birthday. This morning, she met Miss Mouse for the first time, bearing Tinkerbell stickers in her special pocket.

We did a 5K walk this morning -- a fundraiser for my work -- where there was much fussing over a wee girl's birthday, and balloon hats were plentiful.

Presents in the afternoon (more about those later) and then a birthday dinner with cupcakes. Oh the cupcakes. The pictures tell the story of her joy.

Oh, the anticipation...

YUMMMM.

Bliss.

She tried to share...he just looked scared.

Hooray for birthdays!

A Clock for a Mouse

2011-10-13T17:15:00.000-04:00

Hickory Dickory Dock. I bought Miss Mouse a clock.

We've been struggling with keeping Miss Mouse in her bed at night. She tends to wake at random intervals in the night and come traipsing into our room. Sometimes she has to go potty. Sometimes imaginary gorillas are causing trouble. And sometimes I don't think she has any idea why she's up, and she simply asks to be tucked back into bed. All in all, it was causing some sleep deprivation.

We're utilizing a couple different tactics, including making puzzle activity contingent upon a good night's sleep. But my other theory is that Miss Mouse legitimately has no idea what time it is when she gets up. It stays pretty dark these days until well past when we get up on a school day. So I bought her a clock.

Rather than trying to teach her to tell time (a bit premature for a three-year-old), we opted to focus on matching instead. We taped a piece of white cardstock to the clock display, with the number 6 written in a block clock-like font. Then all she has to do is check to see if the other visible number matches. If it does, she's allowed to get up. If not, stay in bed.

It's a good idea. I think. Though I'm not quite sure she really gets it yet. She brings it with her when she comes to my bedside now, and asks me if the numbers match, so I think we have a bit more work to do...

5 Things We Do Instead of Watching TV

2011-10-12T22:07:00.000-04:00

While there are definitely days when I would desperately love to pop in a Dora the Explorer DVD after a hectic day of work and kick back, basking in the peace and quiet of zombified children, for the most I really appreciate all the things we have time to do when we're not glued to the screen. Things like...

1) Blow Bubbles -- Have you ever had the chance to watch little kids play with bubbles? It's one of those rare moments in life where you get to observe pure and unadulterated joy. I highly recommend it.

2) Bake Something -- Despite our best efforts at keeping the sugar content of Miss Mouse's life to a minimum, she naturally has a sweet tooth the size of Montana. She got a huge kick out of helping me make birthday cupcakes for Buggie a couple weeks ago...

3) Do Puzzles -- I've mentioned how much Miss Mouse enjoys doing puzzles. And if her interest ever seems to wane, we can always refresh to activity by changing locations...

4) Build Igloos -- Well, assemble igloos, in our case. One of my buddies got the kids this great play tent that looks like an igloo. We spend an inordinate amount of time in there, having picnics, building towers out of blocks, reading stories, and pretending to be wild animals. And by "we" I do mean more than just the kids...

5) Dance and Frolic -- If in doubt, dance. We do a lot of frolicking. Miss Mouse has also developed a fondness for zumba moves, which we practice together before I head to my weekly zumba class. She definitely gets an A for Enthusiasm!

Our Anniversary Staycation

2011-10-10T20:18:00.001-04:00

In August, Josh and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. Well, we marked it at least. Busy lives and crazy schedules prevented us from doing a huge amount of celebrating. We had planned to go away this weekend instead -- spend a few days in a cabin somewhere away from the kids, reading, reconnecting, and above all...sleeping.

But when the time came to make some concrete plans, the financial reality of our "weekend away" started to look a bit daunting. Even a modest trip gets expensive fast, between gas, lodging, and food. In the end, we nixed our plans and opted for a little "staycation" instead.

Sunday after church, we left the kiddos in the capable hands of my parents and headed out to lunch, compliments of a gift card from Josh's parents. Then, we hit the bookstore for an hour or so. Two bookstores, actually. (We love a good bookstore date.) Next up, a matinee show of The Ides of Match. At one of our local theaters, all shows starting between 4pm and 5:30 are $5. Score.

And finally, we switched houses with my folks for the night. They stayed at our house with the kids and we spent the night at their condo. We ate cookies, watched a movie, and slept more soundly than we had in months, freed from listening with half an ear for the baby's monitor or the sound of a three-year-old stealthily creeping into the room.

It wasn't glamorous, but it was great and it didn't break the bank. Altogether, I think we spent about $65, including $30 spent at Half-Price Books (for which we got six books -- can't beat it). Maybe for our ten-year anniversary we'll head to the French Riviera. Or not.

This post is linked up to Frugal Fridays at Life As Mom. Head on over to read more money-saving ideas!

Birthday Parties: An Addendum

2011-10-08T21:37:00.000-04:00

Allow me to add one more comment to the "why I'm in no hurry to organize a birthday party for Miss Mouse" conversation -- she doesn't always do well in social situations.

Let me be clear. My girl is bright and verbal and social and fabulous (of course). But I'm learning that there's a specific type of activity which is hard for her. It's the "structured activity led by someone she doesn't know." This includes story-time at the library, camp at the botanical gardens, and -- as it turns out -- birthday parties.

We went to our first true birthday party today. A friend from school was turning three and invited Miss Mouse to a party at a local gymnastic studio. Trampolines, parachute games, zip lines, and pits full of foam cubes to launch oneself into. Oh, plus cookie cake. Should have been an absolute blast, but I'll let the picture speak for itself. There were ten kids playing happily together and one kid who looked like this...

Yeah.

Honestly I'm not quite sure what goes wrong in these scenarios but poor Miss Mouse just really struggles. At less structured events, like our trip to the pumpkin patch or a play date at a friend's house, she's fine. But in classes, camps, and other programs, it's a different story. Usually she just gets quiet and withdrawn and a bit petulant. At story time she'll refuse to participate, or she'll pretend to be super shy when someone asks her a question. Today, it was a full blow meltdown.

I almost took her home, but we stuck with it and she eventually perked up when one of her best friends from school arrived late. The two of them formed their own little party and basically ignored the rest, but at least they were happy.

But I realized today that she would almost certainly have responded the same way at her own party, had I been so foolish as to organize a similar one, and I felt a huge sense of relief to have dodged that bullet!

Of Pumpkins and Preschoolers

2011-10-07T19:31:00.000-04:00

Just because I'm not on board with birthday parties for toddlers doesn't mean I don't love a good party. Quite the contrary. I love any excuse to get a group of friends together. I'm almost compulsively social. In grad school, I organized themed weekly potluck dinners that sometimes drew as many as forty people. It was glorious.

Now that I've got kids, there are even more opportunities for festivities. Thus it was that I issued an open invitation to the families in the kids' daycare to join us for an outing to a local pumpkin patch last weekend. I thought I'd get a couple interested families and our small posse would hit the fields together.

The final headcount on the day of the excursion was 29 children under six and 30 adults.

Glorious, I tell you.

We met up at the farm, terrorized the animals in the petting zoo, took a hayride out to the pumpkin patch, ate lunch together, and enjoyed a bunch of activities -- including an old firetruck-turned-jungle-gym-and-slide. It was a blast.

I love the chance to connect with other parents and for Miss Mouse to see her friends outside of school. I've said it before and I'll say it again: there is nothing cuter than little kids holding hands.

This is where my heart and organizational strengths are. I'm not great at party games and crepe paper. But laid-back fun in the great outdoors with sixty of my closest friends? That I can do.

Resisting the Mompetition

2011-10-06T21:14:00.000-04:00

It was an innocent enough remark from another mom at our daycare -- "R__ is starting Phonics Adventures today..." -- but it abruptly brought me face-to-face with that awful, hidden reality of parenting: mompetition.

If you're a mom, you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's that weird competitive streak that runs through moms (at least American moms) as we strive to ensure that our child is the best, the brightest, and the most likely to be admitted to Harvard at the age of four.

There's an ever-increasing push to get our young kids involved in more and more activities at a younger and younger age. Kids in Miss Mouse's class play soccer, take dance, and are now taking early reading classes. At the age of two.

There's (probably) nothing wrong with extracurricular activities if your child enjoys them. Miss Mouse takes a music class that is a daycare add-on. Once a week, she spends an hour with a few other kids, singing, dancing, and banging objects together in a preschool approximation of music. She loves it.

The problem I see is when we schedule things for our kids because we think we're supposed to, rather than because they enjoy it. And that's where the mompetition rears its ugly head, because the first thing I thought when I heard that another kid in Mousie's class was taking Phonics Adventures was: "oh, wow, should I enroll Miss Mouse? I'd hate for her to not keep up with the other kids..."

Reality check, momma. Miss Mouse is two. Well, almost three. But the point is this: she doesn't need to learn to read yet. She really truly doesn't. She loves books. She loves words. She loves letters and pretending to read. We read to her and she "reads" to us. We're doing everything right and I do not -- NOT NOT -- need to enroll her in a special class to speed along her literary growth.

Today's kids are much more highly scheduled than children a generation ago. Or ten years ago. We are so busy signing them up for "enrichment activities" that I think we run the risk of forgetting what their main purpose is at this age: to play and be kids.

So I didn't sign Miss Mouse up for Phonics Adventures. Or Beginning Spanish. Or SAT Prep for Preschoolers (I bet it exists somewhere!!). But I did take her to the park this afternoon...

10 Things I Learned After Spending 20 Hours in the Car with my Children

2011-10-03T19:41:00.000-04:00

This weekend, my family piled into our minivan and spent about 20 hours of quality time together there, driving to and from Kentucky to attend my brother-in-law's wedding. After spending nearly a full day in a small confined place with my kids, I learned a few things.

1) Car travel was easier before I had children.

2) Two adults and two children on a four day trip can -- and will -- fill one minivan to the rafters with gear, food, and toys.

3) No matter how much gear, food, and toys you bring on your trip, it will not be enough to keep your kids entertained for the entire ride.

4) A one-hour CD of children's music played on constant repeat for twenty hours will drive you insane.

5) A one-hour CD of children's music played on constant repeat for twenty hours is less irritating than a three-year-old whining for her CD for twenty hours.

6) Pizza-flavored goldfish crackers are worth their weight in gold.

7) Armed with only two graham crackers and a sippy cup of water, a one-year-old can make a mess colossal enough to necessitate an entire wardrobe change.

8) No matter now ~~deceptively~~ ingeniously marketed and packaged to imply otherwise, craft projects do not work well in the car.

9) If your children fall asleep while you're driving do not stop driving unless you will literally run out of gas on the side of the road if you don't fill up.

10) When it was all said and done, my kids actually did much better in the car than I expected!

In Praise of Early Bedtimes

2011-09-30T20:18:00.000-04:00

If I were to pick one single "thing" that we've done right as parents, it would be this: early bedtimes for our kids.

It's 8:05pm and both my children are in bed, presumably asleep. Buggie is definitely out, Miss Mouse not far behind. This gives me about two hours for me to do the things done that I need to in my life. It's time to clean the kitchen, exercise, read a book, start some laundry, write a blog, or catch up with my husband (it's hard to get a word in edgewise when your three-year-old is conscious!).

This nightly "me time" is what keeps me from going round the bend when life as a working mom gets hectic. It also means that I can focus entirely on my kids when they are awake and not have to be forever putting them off -- "just a minute, honey, Mommy's got to do XYZ."

I understand that some families have different schedules -- parents who work late, evening commitments, etc. -- that necessitate later bedtimes for their kids, but this is definitely what works for us. The key has been establishing a good bedtime routine early on and then sticking to it. Evenings at our house look something like this:

6:15 - 6:45 -- family dinner
6:45 - 7:00 -- playtime
7:00 -- bathtime for Buggie
7:15 -- storytime for Buggie and Mouse
7:30 -- Buggie in bed
7:30 - 7:45 -- quiet reading time with Miss Mouse
7:45 -- bathtime for Mousie
8:00 -- Mouse in bed

Miss Mouse also has a sort of sub-routine closer to bed. She gives hugs and kisses to me, then heads upstairs with Josh. They read a story, say a prayer, sing a song, and he tucks her in. If I'm putting her to bed, we often add some snuggle time in there.

The brief time between Buggie's bedtime and Miss Mouse's is special time. It's quiet time. We read stories together, or work on a puzzle, or look through family photos. Miss Mouse loves being the center of my attention and you can see her visibly powering down from the day.

We've been working a version of this bedtime routine forever. As soon as each kid was old enough to have a bedtime (i.e. when they settled into a more regular sleep pattern) we ritualized it and kept the routine in place. Now everyone knows what to expect and we rarely (though not "never") have trouble with bedtime.

The Continuing Adventures of Piranha Boy

2011-09-28T12:31:00.000-04:00

We recently received The Call from daycare: "Your son bit someone."

Awesome.

I was well aware of Buggie's chomping proclivities, having been on the receiving end of them many times a day. The kid is a piranha. He comes charging across the floor at me on all fours, mouth agape, leading with his teeth.

He's going for the nose. I can see it in his eyes...

The other day, he actually lifted up my shirt, the better to gnaw on my bare stomach.

It started out as just gentle love nibbles. He'd mouth at me affectionately and I didn't mind because it was sort of cute. But then he grew teeth and got a more powerful jaw and now he's a force to be reckoned with. He's also expanded his tastes. It used to be that he only bit me. Irritating, but manageable. But now he's branching out to include his sister and -- apparently -- his classmates.

The saving grace is that he doesn't bite when he's mad. It's not an aggressive act. He just gets really excited and then tends to munch on you enthusiastically. Often, he giggles the whole time. We're working on curtailing it by putting him down or moving away anytime he gets too toothy, but I'm contemplating investing in kevlar for his poor big sister and his long-suffering playmates!

The Big Sister Gift

2011-09-25T13:32:00.000-04:00

I have two pet peeves when it comes to children and birthdays (other than parties).

1) I hate it when kids open presents for someone else. Look, I know they like the ribbon and the bows and the paper and all that. But if I buy you a present, I want YOU to open it, not your kid. Sorry. We're trying to teach this to Miss Mouse and thus refused to let her open Buggie's presents. It drove her nuts. She actually had to spend a few minutes in her room because she Would Not Back Off. But she settled down eventually.

2) I hate it when parents try to maintain absolute equality between their children by buying presents for the non-birthday-kid. Attention parents: you don't need to (and in fact cannot) treat your children equally at all times. There are occasions, like birthdays, which are inherently weighted toward one or the other.

Having said that, I shall now reveal myself as a great big hypocrite. I gave Miss Mouse a present on Buggie's birthday.

Well, sort of. The present "officially" came from Buggie himself. We decided that this first year, it would be nice to acknowledge that Miss Mouse had been a truly wonderful big sister for a whole year. So her little brother "got" her a new baby doll.*

"Thank you, Buggie!"

Miss Mouse was enchanted. This new doll is heavier and more realistic than any of her other babies. Her eyes close when she is horizontal. She's got two outfits, one for sleeping and one for playing. What could bring more joy to the heart of an almost-three-year-old?

The new doll's name is Sasha. Mousie tried to name her "Pink Baby Doll," but since she already has three dolls named that, we refused to let her and made her pick another name. So Sasha it is. Miss Mouse took her to bed last night (of course) and could be heard whispering -- "I love you, I love you, I love you" -- as they snuggled in together.

I asked her this morning if she loved Sasha, and she was quick to reassure me -- "I love you, too, Mommy." Thanks, honey. I love you, too.

* It's actually the doll I bought to give her last year, but then didn't give her because I thought she wasn't old enough yet for a doll that nice. Waiting was totally the right decision.

More Birthday Boy

2011-09-24T14:29:00.000-04:00

I was too wiped out last night to do more than throw up a quick birthday picture. Buggie had decided to start celebrating early, so Thursday night he woke up at 1:45am and stayed up until 4:15am. I don't know why.

Interestingly, this interrupted night didn't slow him down in the slightest. He galloped through his birthday with his usual zest. Or, rather, staggered. This picture pretty well captures where he's at in terms of the transition to bi-pedalism. Not quite there yet, but almost...

We kept the presents pretty simple. It doesn't take much to impress a one-year-old. Tissue paper by itself would actually be just fine for him. But it's emotionally difficult for parents to not buy presents, so we got him a few things. Actually, just one thing: a set of weighted stacking balls. They're neat.

He also got a wooden pull train (a gift from a friend last year that I saved until he was older) and a pop up animal game thingy from Josh's parents. He's a big fan. He can't quite work the pop ups, but has a good system in place with his big sister. She pops them up, he pushes them down.

The musical card from my parents was the source of much enjoyment as well!

Unfortunately, he wasn't a fan of his cupcakes. They were initially met with deep suspicion, and eventually outright tears. He never did really eat one. He sampled a bit of frosting but that was about it.

Miss Mouse on the other hand... Well, let's just say she enjoyed her brother's birthday!

Birthday Boy

2011-09-23T20:57:00.000-04:00

One year ago, my family grew, my heart expanded, and I met the world's most perfect baby boy.

What a difference a year makes.

Concerning Birthday Parties

2011-09-19T21:38:00.000-04:00

Buggie turns one on Friday. Miss Mouse will be three next month. Inquiring minds want to know: what sort of festivities are we planning for these momentous occasions? Will there be parties? Balloon animals? Themed cupcakes, pinatas, and goody bags?

Um, no.

It turns out that, as much as I adore parties -- preferably with themes -- I'm just not on board with birthday parties for babies and toddlers. I can't muster up the enthusiasm for a no-holds-barred fete for my son, who won't remember the event, or for my daughter, who doesn't know she's "supposed" to have a birthday party and thus won't miss it.

I'm not a scrooge. We're having Buggie's godmother and her boyfriend over for dinner on Friday and there will be cupcakes for him to smoosh.* We got him a couple presents, too, but we're keeping it pretty low key because...he's one. How much stuff does he need?

Birthdays have been simple affairs for Miss Mouse, too. True confessions: last year, we didn't actually give her presents. Wait! Wait! I can explain. I bought her a couple presents. I did. But then she got so many "congrats on being a big sister" presents just a few weeks before (and a great birthday gift from my parents), that we never got around to giving our presents to her. She was still enjoying her other presents so much, that there didn't seem to be any point in adding to her haul. We saved them for Christmas.

This year, we're still not doing a party for Miss Mouse. At least not an official birthday party. This weekend, seventeen (yup) of her friends from school are joining us on an outing to a local pumpkin patch. It'll be great fun. She'll spend time with her friends in the great outdoors without being inundated with gifts she doesn't need sporting characters from television shows she doesn't watch.

We'll do birthday parties some day. As soon as she asks for one, I'll be happy to oblige. My goal is not to deprive my children of joyous birthday memories. I just want to avoid the consumerism of the parties as long as possible.

*Which is more than can be said for my first birthday, upon which occasion my parents gave me a Twinkie. I was in heaven. Which really just illustrates my point...

At Home Around the World

2011-09-17T22:02:00.001-04:00

My son tried injera for the first time today. Injera is a spongy, slightly sour pancake-like bread that features prominently in any Ethiopian meal. Meals are served on a plate-sized piece of injera, with each dish splopped artfully onto a section of the bread. It's good stuff. I love Ethiopian food. Josh can't stand it. Miss Mouse wouldn't consider trying it.

But Buggie? Buggie will eat anything.

More, please!

We spent the afternoon at a picnic organized by our local "families of adopted Ethiopian children" support group. Pittsburgh actually has a thriving community of adoptive families and there were about 20 families there today, totaling more than 80 people. It was catered by a local Ethiopian restaurant whose lovely (Ethiopian) owner is very active in the support group.

Though we aren't yet a multicultural family, we were welcomed with open arms. Our goal in attending was simple: begin introducing our children to the notion that not all families are comprised of white parents with white children who grew in their tummies.

Thus Buggie and Miss Mouse frolicked with a pack of newly-formed friends with big eyes, dark skin, and gorgeous names.

One thing that I enjoy about this group is that virtually all of the families contain a mix of birth and adopted children. I think there was only one family in the whole bunch who didn't also have biological children.

This was just a sampling.
Getting that many kids to sit still for a picture is tough!

It was affirming and reassuring to see other blended families thriving. Healthy, happy, well-adjusted adopted children and their healthy, happy, adoring siblings.

In honor of the occasion -- apparently -- our approved home study arrived in the mail today. Monday we'll file our paperwork with the American government in step two of the three-step application process. The third step is applying to the Ethiopian government. Onward!

Job Satisfaction

2011-09-15T21:53:00.001-04:00

Tonight, my personal blog and my professional life coincide because what's most on my mind is how much I love my job. I switched jobs in June, taking a Community Relations/ Fundraising gig with a human services non-profit serving the area I live in.

It had been a long time since I woke up every morning eager to go to work.

These days, I'm planning a 5K charity walk, brainstorming content for an upcoming newsletter, working out an editorial calendar of program videos I want to make, scheduling lunches with donors, coordinating an emergency food drive for our Food Pantry, and learning how to use Twitter.

It's awesome.

My favorite thing right now is Twitter. I'm new to the Twitterverse, but I'm in love. I like the fast pace, the funny one-liners, and finding new people to follow. Today I connected with two different reporters via Twitter who will be covering my food drive. (#Score.)* And had lunch with a youth director at a big church who is going to help me plan a multi-youth-group food drive in the spring. And enlisted three day care centers to do food drives. And wrote a grant.

Yeah, it was a good day.

Also, I just checked my work email to send a few more messages. I'm voluntarily working in the evening because I'm that jazzed. #jobsatisfaction

*If you don't do Twitter, that there was a "hashtag." It's a thing you do to add flavor to your tweets. I'm becoming mildly addicted to coming up with fun ones. Today I used #don'tsneezeinmysoup in context. Not bad.

Piecing it Together

2011-09-13T22:02:00.004-04:00

Miss Mouse and I have discovered that we share a common passion for puzzles.* I absolutely adore a good jigsaw and will happily spend many hours carefully piecing one together, preferably with a book on tape on in the background. Sadly, I don't get to do much puzzling these days since I don't have a big enough table that doesn't get used nightly for dinner!

Yesterday, my daughter put her new Woodland Princess puzzle together at least thirty times. As soon as she finished, she'd pat it lovingly then announce -- "I'm going to do it again" -- and disassemble it. I love that girl.

Miss Mouse has been a fan of the chunky block puzzles for quite some time, but we only recently introduced her to actual interlocking jigsaws. We started with a 12-piece barnyard scene and within two days I realized she needed something harder so now we're doing 24-piece puzzles and I have a couple 36-piece numbers waiting in the wings.

It takes her a couple times through with a lot of help, but she picks it up fast. We're teaching her to use the picture (when available) as well as the clues within the puzzle. Shapes. Colors. Flat edges. Corner pieces. It's amazing to watch it "click" for her.

Unlike her brother, Miss Mouse is not particularly self-directed so I'm thrilled to see her passionate about something she can do by herself. She still prefers to work her puzzles with me sitting next to her but she's getting more willing to sit at the dining room table with her puzzle while I make dinner or clean the kitchen.

Her love of puzzles also gives me some Love & Logic leverage on the bedtime front. Last night, she was up at least a half dozen times in the night, so today her puzzles were off limits, on the grounds that Mommy & Daddy were too tired to help her because we were up so much (which is called a "logical consequence" -- a negative outcome stemming naturally and directly from her behavior rather than an arbitrary punishment invented by us). She's sharp. She immediately got the hint and said seriously -- "If I get out of bed tonight, we will not do puzzles. But if I stay in bed, mommy will not be tired and we will do puzzles!" Now, whether she will be so clear-headed and rational in the middle of the night when faced with imaginary marauding gorillas remains to be seen, but it's worth a shot!

* I should note that I'm not sure the origins of this shared genetic bond, but it definitely did NOT come from my mother. She hates puzzles and was recently stumped by a 20-piece fish puzzle for preschoolers. Give her a word puzzle and she's all over it. A picture puzzle, though, is a whole 'nother story...

Like Sister, Like Brother

2011-09-11T21:58:00.003-04:00

February, 2010

September, 2011

What is it about that cupboard?

And speaking of family resemblance...

In which gorillas interrupt my sleep

2011-09-10T20:24:00.003-04:00

Is there any sound less welcome at 2am than that of your three-year-old's bedroom door opening as she charges out of her room, headed for yours...for the fifth time that night?

All of a sudden, bedtime is an issue in our house again. Back in March, shortly after Miss Mouse migrated to her big girl bed, we had some trouble with bedtime. Or rather, I did. She was always good for Josh. But since then, we'd gotten into a great, fuss-free routine.

Said routine is now gone.

These days, when I try to put Miss Mouse to bed, I am met with whimpers, sobs, pleas to stay, and wide-eyed assertions that the moment I walk from her room, a band of gorillas will attack her. Or maybe just one really mean gorilla. It's sometimes hard to decipher her stories when she's worked up.

I manage to extricate myself and flee. She gets up 10 seconds later and stands weeping on the top of the stairs. I put her back to bed. She gets up. And....repeat. It can take upwards of 45 minutes to get her into bed for good.

Sometimes, the cycle repeats itself in the middle of the night, too, which is particularly wearying. On Thursday night, she got up five times between midnight and 2am.

My problem is that she's playing the "I'm scared" card. It's hard to tell if she's serious. If she actually has a bad dream (which she occasionally does), then I want to comfort her and hold her and make her feel safe. If she's just trying to avoid bedtime, being too solicitous is just asking for trouble.

At bedtime, I've taken to giving her Tinkerbell doll a set of marching orders, delivered in serious tones. "Now, Tinkerbell, will you stay awake all night to guard Miss Mouse?" (Tinkerbell nods.) "Will you allow any gorillas to enter this bedroom?" (Tinkerbell solemnly shakes her head.) Then all three of us practice our anti-gorilla speech together. "No gorillas here! Go back to the zoo, gorilla!" (Said with ferocious scowls and much finger shaking.)

Sometimes the routine helps. Sometimes not.

I need my sleep, but at the end of the day, I'm a softie. For years (yes, years) I slept on the floor of my parents' bedroom most of the time, waking in the middle of the night and carefully hauling all my bedding into their room. I got really stealthy and they generally didn't even know I was there til morning. They were pretty good sports about it and I'm inclined to take a similar approach.

Anyone got any good tips for banishing the bedtime fears of a preschooler?

Cookies Aren't Snacks

2011-09-07T20:57:00.000-04:00

I got an email from a parenting site I subscribe to that promised to deliver ideas for "22 Healthy Kids Snacks." Of the twenty-two "snacks," eight were sweets. A few of these eight recipes attempted to be healthy (like the beets in the whoopie pies recipe) but the rest? Frosted sugar cookies. Peanut butter cookies. Jello made with sweetened condensed milk. "Oatmeal Snack Cakes." Nice try at disguising oatmeal cookies, but the presence of whole-wheat flour can't counteract the fact that the first four ingredients were fats and sugars.

Does this look like a "Healthy Kids Snack" to you?

I sometimes run into this same problem at the kids' daycare. Miss Mouse came home chirping about the rice krispie treats she had for snack last week. "Oh?" -- I inquired brightly -- "Was it someone's birthday?" Nope. That was just the snack offering on a nondescript, non-holiday Tuesday. Once when she was still in the infant room sometime prior to her first birthday, they served Mrs. Fields Sugar Cookies for snack. No joke. (I called the Director to rant about that one and it didn't happen again.)

Look, I'm not opposed to sugar. I happen to have an intimate and loving relationship with sugar. Chocolate too, come to think of it.

But childhood obesity is real. It's a huge problem (no pun intended) and, as parents, we are doing our children a terrible disservice when we allow them to gorge themselves on junk.

Cookies aren't snacks. They are dessert and should be treated as such.

Do I serve dessert at home? Sure. Do I let the kids eat sweets? Of course. I refer you to the previous post about apple crisp. But dessert is a treat. We don't serve apple crisp every night. We don't keep cookies on hand. And when Miss Mouse comes home demanding "a little snack" we try to limit her options to fruits and vegetables.

Not chocolate banana quesadillas, fried in butter and dusted with powdered sugar (though I admit that sounds divine).

Apple Crisp

2011-09-05T20:18:00.000-04:00

With Labor Day marking the emotional, if not official, end of summer, I marked the occasion by making my first fall dessert: apple crisp. Apple crisp is one of my clan's handful of family recipes. We don't have many, but the ones we have are mighty fine.

Because all the rules are more lax the second time around, we let Buggie sample the apple crisp and ice cream. He was a big fan and proceeded to clamber on me with single-minded determination while I tried to ward him off long enough to eat my dessert.

Help!

Fortunately for me, his big sister was more willing to share than I was!

Miss Mouse turned up her nose at the apple crisp itself but tucked into the ice cream with gusto. And then ran around the house with gusto for the next half an hour. Screaming.

Yup, we like apple crisp in this house. In case you do, too, here's the recipe...

Apple Crisp

8 cups of tart apples, peeled and sliced
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup water
1 T cinnamon
1.5 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup butter

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9x13 pan and spread the apples in it. Sprinkle apples with water, then the salt and cinnamon.

In a medium bowl, mix together flour and sugars, then cut in butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle the topping over the apples in the pan and bake for 45 minutes. Should serve about 8. Actually serves 6. (Or less.)

What is it about Eric Carle?

2011-09-04T10:20:00.000-04:00

Josh and I have the (potentially annoying to outsiders) habit of speaking for the non-verbal members of our family. This includes the dog -- whose "voice" is somewhat dopey, frequently confused, and mostly focused on food consumption and bodily functions -- and Buggie, who also talks a lot about food and poop but sounds smarter when he does so.

Anyways, I get so used to inventing/imagining Buggie's thoughts and preferences that it's always a bit of a surprise when he voices them himself!

Despite my recent assertion that Buggie's favorite book is "Ten in the Bed" by Penny Dale, it turns out that he actually likes "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" by Eric Carle best. How do I know? He told me. Or at least showed me with crystal clarity...

While Miss Mouse was napping, I settled onto the couch with my son for story time. We read two "push and pop" books that he's fond of, then moved on to Brown Bear. He seemed to enjoy it -- lots of wiggling and foot kicking and squeaking -- so I read it again. And then a third time. Then I tried to switch to "Bear Snores On" by Karma Wilson.

Buggie screamed.

I was startled. We love "Bear Snores On." So I tried "Hippos Go Berserk" by Sandra Boynton. No dice. Fuss, fuss, thrash, kick.

So I plopped him onto the couch cushion next to a small pile of books and -- somewhat rhetorically -- asked, "So what DO you want?" And darned if he didn't grab Brown Bear, Brown Bear. I thought it might be a coincidence so I repeated the experiment and he again refused other books and picked out Brown Bear from the stack.

Pretty cool.