8 Reasons Having a Sibling Rocks (for the Parents)

While my blogging partner here has extolled on all the wonderful things about being one and done, I thought it might be nice (and only fair) to also give a little credence to all the ways having more than one can be a very good thing indeed.  Well...most of the time. 

1.  No need to have to sit in the playroom and pretend to eat that plastic pizza for the 59th time today.  Having a playmate is probably the BEST reason to have that second baby.  Seriously, sometimes it's the only way I get anything done. (Other times it's definitely the reason I get nothing done.)

2.  Sharing is caring!  Even if you don't want to share that dump truck, you better believe that Sister is going to either rip it out of your hands or scream until she gets her way.  Moral of the story: We share our toys.

3.  You only have to teach certain life lessons once.  Then that trickle down theory comes into play.  See: Sister going pee-pee on the potty at 18 months versus Brother not even looking at a potty until nearly three.  Also: manners, giving up the paci, and riding a bike.

4.  What good are hand me downs if you don't have a sibling to pass them on to!  Isn't that the plight of second children?  But now that I'm a parent, it just totally make sense to have at least one more.  Or find a good friend you can pass them on to. (Wink, wink, bestie.)

5.  Once they are of a certain mature age (what age exactly is open for discussion) the older sibling is now available free of charge to babysit at any and all times of your choosing.  (Ahem MOM!)

6.  What better place to learn how to take a little teasing and bullying than right at home.  I like to think that all the fighting going on is giving them a little backbone to stand up for themselves when they are out there in the real world.  (Seriously.  You should see our Sister go at it. She is for real.)  

7.  Secrets don't make friends.  So, who else is there to share your secrets and keep them from everyone else other than a sibling?  As an adult, it's definitely been the best thing I love about having siblings.  They love me no matter what I do! (Right guys??)

8.  I just asked Brother.  He said the best thing about having a sister is because she loves him and keeping her safe and hugging her.  So, there you go.  Pretty sure that is all you need right there.  Excuse me now while I go blow my nose and dry my eyes.

Another Reason: Mommy needed to take a shower and Sister woke up early from nap.
Solution: Brother and Sister played nicely in the crib until Mommy was done.  (Seriously! They really did!)

         

It Must Be Nice To Be My Husband

I have now been doing this whole SAHM/WAHM thing for 10 months.  That is nearly an entire year.  Sometimes it feels like I have been at this new routine for YEARS and then other times it feels totally brand new. 

I have learned so much during this time - about myself, my kids, my goals in parenting and in life.  And while this has all been fine and dandy, there is one thing that I now know FOR CERTAIN.

It's the most wonderful time of the day! (For Mommy too...)

It must be nice to be my husband. 

Yes, he works at an often stressful job with unpredictable and sometimes long hours.  His job frequently invades our nights and weekends.  The stress of it can feel like another appendage at times. I get it. 

But, now that I am home and not scurrying off to a full-time job with a long commute every day, his responsibilities at home have been FAR reduced.  I don't want to specify how reduced because he will read this and I know that he will disagree with me; however, let's just say the last time the man located a cleaning product he was aged in a different decade.

Now, I don't want to sound like Husband does nothing.  He definitely pulls his weight around our house and is most nights in charge of bath and bedtime, giving me a much-needed reprieve...so I can write humorous blog posts about our life.  Ahem.

BUT, and this is a significant BUT.  From my viewpoint, he gets off pretty easy in the whole scheme of things.  He gets to shower and leave the house 5 days a week ALONE.  He doesn't have to wrangle two kids to get dressed and brush their teeth, now please, so we can get out the door on time for school. 

I seriously find myself pondering what life would be like if I could shower in the morning and subsequently leave the house by myself with an entire commute to do, well, absolutely nothing but drive, listen to music and chew gum.

When Husband returns home, the house has been cleaned, dishes and clothes washed and put away, dog walked, dinner (usually) prepared and ready to eat.  Groceries have been purchased, children picked up and dropped off from school, and all the other items that used to fill our weekends are now complete. 

But, this is my job now.  A job I didn't necessarily sign-up for, but, shockingly, one I really wouldn't trade for the world (right now at least). 

And while Husband certainly misses out on all the grunt work and gets to walk in the door to a chorus of screams from two children who act like they haven't seem him in months, I know that I am the real winner. 

(See Husband, and you thought I was going to spend an entire post whining.)

While I may not always look pretty or even get a shower every day, I get to spend every day with the two of the three most special people ever.  And for that I will suck it up and clean the high chair tray, again.

Moms Unite! Mothering Through Social Media.

Not too long ago, it would have been virtually unheard of to meet someone in person that you really don't know. At all. Before the age of this Internet thing - which I am pretty sure is sticking around, by the way.

I remember back when "you've got mail" was the newest, hottest thing and that ding with the mailbox flag suddenly meant that someone who used to call or even write a letter (what's that, by the way?) now was able to electronically send a message - the start of today's Immediate Gratification society.

And, if you've followed us at all, you know that I have really practiced more of a Hand's Free mentality toward parenting.  I am far from perfect at this attempt, but while Baba is awake, my phone is (meant to be) not at the forefront of our daily activities. That doesn't mean that I am not drawn to every ding, tweet and ring. But, my priority is Baba.

With that, there is no denying that we live in a different time than when connection meant sitting in the closet with the phone cord wrapped around your finger talking to your best friend, who, coincidentally, lived three doors down. And, balancing where I really wish things still were (for innocence and simplicity's sake) with where they undoubtedly are.  So, it's a fact: I love social media.

I love that it keeps me connected. I love that I can still be social coordinator of our family, because, well, I know who is where, doing what and with whom. Husband would remain clueless if it wasn't for me. And, I love that I get to watch children grow up before my eyes. Here's the kicker - many, if not the majority, of these children are not littles that I even know. But, I do.

I know them because I have connected with their Mommas on social media platforms designed to bring together women who are all going through the same stages at the same time. Right now, it's all about potty training (ugh. It sucks. But, that's a different story for a different day). Aside from the world's worst task, we all watch each other's kiddos smile, laugh, grown, learn and play. It's bliss, really.

The support is like no other. Who else knows about the daily torments adventures more than someone living it every day - just like me?

So, earlier this month, Baba and I were planning a trip to visit my Grandma. In this social media life, I remembered that one of my favorite Mommas lives not far from Grams. And, so I reached out. Never having met this woman, but feeling like she was an old friend, it felt like the only natural thing to do. And, natural it was.  We met up at the local children's museum. And, we watched our littles play. And, play.

It was the sweetest thing.

I believe in socialization for Baba. Duh. I am the biggest preschool advocate there is. But, I also believe in play dates and random encounters with other kids so that Baba learns to get along with different types of kiddos.

Baba and "Baby" (her pet name for her new little friend) couldn't get enough of each other. They're at the perfect age to enjoy the company of others just like them. And, their Mommas couldn't get enough of watching them play.

At the end of the day, we all made new friends. And, there's no price on that. Two weeks later, Baba is still asking for "Baby."

I am pretty sure this is a friendship that has made its way past the screen and into our lives.

See you next time, "Baby."

School Started and This Mommy is Not Crying

Six weeks ago a momentous occasion occurred in my household.  Behold: my oldest went off to preschool!!  Never mind that he had previously been enrolled in daycare/preschool until this past June and this school is only three half-days a week

The reason to celebrate is simple.  He has been home full-time for the last three months and while I have loved (depending on the day) having him home all the time so that we can gallivant around town however we please, I also came to an important realization this summer.  This is a kid who needs both structure and routine but more importantly, an outlet for his immense energy and enthusiasm.

Being home full-time, it seems, has created multiple behavioral issues with him.  Brother has been picking fights with and being generally unkind to his younger, 19 month old, sister.  He has been refusing naps on the regular.  He has been resisting falling asleep for a good 90 minutes after we put him to bed at night and still waking at 5:30 am and then acting like an exhausted kid all day but still refusing sleep. 

Turns out, I believe all the idle, unstructured time at home has just not worked quite well for him.  And, ironically (or maybe not), every single one of the above issues we have experienced over the past few months has magically gone away over the past six weeks.  It's really been amazing.  We are cured!!

Also, to be honest, as much as he needs a break from too much time hanging out at home, I also could use the break.  Does this mean that I don't want to be home with him?  Does this mean I love him any less?  No.  Definitely not. It just means that I am both human and a busy parent who needs a few hours here and there to also have a break.  (Note: this is not true time to myself as little Sister is still home.)

The moral of the story though is that this little break, because it is little at just two and a half hours three days a week, is a good opportunity for all of us to do something fun without a mommy, sister or brother up in our business and to make new friends and learn new things.  The positive effects of preschool have clearly been far-reaching in this house! Everyone, and especially these little ones, need to feel a little independence as they mature and prepare to head out into the world.  And what a wonderful thing that is for all of us.   

We still have two years until Brother starts kindergarten.  (Because of his birth date, he will not start school until he is nearly 6!)  And while there are some days that I wish for time to pass more quickly so that I can have a little more independence, there are more days where I relish in the fact that right now I get to be the primary caretaker for my kids.  It's a pretty special thing really and since I don't know how long it will last, I try so hard to never lose sight of this opportunity I have been afforded.

Two years from now, or twenty years from now, I want to have zero regrets for how I spent this time.  So, while I happily drop off my special little guy at school three days a week, I also know it will only be just over two hours until I see him again. 

Red Crayon vs. Vomited Blueberries

Here we embark on an involuntary quest to determine which of these lovely stains is actually harder to get out of carpeting. Note I said involuntary. "Why on earth do you care?" you ask. We care because we have to care. We don't have a choice. Can't leave a rainbow of crayon or regurgitated blueberries on the carpeting forever. So, you'll thank us later, I promise. At some point in your parenting, you too, will be charged with a stain that you'd rather leave to rot. But, you can't.

---

Baba had been coughing. A lot. And, it was nearly impossible for her to stop. We intervened with some meds - because, well, who can sleep when you're coughing every 10 seconds? Turns out that the combination of medicine, with the constant aggravation to her larynx and lungs ended in eruption.

And, more than just once. Like, every fifteen minutes for five hours. It was not pretty. (Perhaps I mentioned the blueberries she had for dinner?!)

Kinda reminds me of when I was pregnant with her. And, everything I ingested came right back out again.

If you're a parent, you've likely experienced the wretched experience that is chasing tail after a vomiting child. Worse if the child can't or is too young to make it to any sort of toilet - as in Baba's case.

Therefore, the five hours consisted of constant sheet changes, new pajamas, blankets, towels and a dab at the rug whenever possible. Thankfully, she recovered quickly and those hours were the only hours she was plagued by this ick.

The carpet? That's a different story. The evidence remains, despite how hard I attacked those blueberries.

- - -

Meanwhile, 750 miles away, someone else at another household decided that it would be a good idea to draw a pretty picture for his Momma. How nice of you, Brother.

Brother and Sister were playing nicely in the playroom while Mommy was in the kitchen preparing dinner.  It was quite lovely actually as they were playing and there was no screaming emanating from the playroom for a good 15 minutes. I was happily cooking away so that dinner would actually be ready by the time the kids got hungry. A miracle.

It may have been a little too quiet, now that I think about it.  Quiet is always a warning sign for something in this house and it is never a something good.  At the time, it just did not register in my brain that was thinking of 23 other things I needed to do that evening, which included leaving the house in 30 minutes for a meeting. 

I finally wandered over to the playroom to gather those cute little cherubs for dinner and what do my eyes behold?  Brother is standing in the doorway with a huge smile and says: "Look Momma, I made you a pretty rainbow.  AND it's a race track!" 

You're lucky we didn't show you the blueberries...

I look around trying to figure out where this lovely rainbow racetrack was located and then I look down...at the floor.  Yep.  Said masterpiece was drawn in crayon on our just 4 days prior freshly steam cleaned (of course!) cream-colored carpet.  Lovely indeed. 

At first, I gave no reaction.  Because while I was extremely annoyed at the new item on my to-do list for the evening, I also knew it wasn't the end of the world entirely and there were far worse things that could have happened or been broken.  As my husband remarked later, "Isn't drawing in crayon on the walls or floor some sort of childhood right of passage." 

The thing that got to me the most was that the weekend before I had literally spent the afternoon cleaning this exact carpet.  After having a serious chat with Brother that we do not draw on anything other than paper, I spent a good portion of the night re-cleaning the carpet.  And, after several rounds of scrubbing all of the crayon was gone.  Except for the red crayon which sadly is still visible enough.

As the professional carpet cleaner apparently did not quite cut it, I am currently researching home remedies that remove crayon from carpet.  Specifically, red crayon.  Until then, a red circle marks the spot. 

What was it about that night in these two houses?  Maybe it was something about that full moon.

She Only Has Eyes For Her Brother

When I think back to my own childhood, many of my memories include a certain much younger sister trailing around behind me.  Everywhere.  Always. I may or may not have constantly complained to my mother about this fact.  Her response, "She looks up to you. One day you will want her around."  Well, that day eventually arrived so I guess the joke's on me.  (See Sister, I do like you after all!)

Now I have whined stated nicely a few times about my kids and their tendency to, here and there, get under each other's skin.  And while these moments are not fun for me, the Mommy, since my son started his new pre-school a few weeks ago I have noticed a better trend emerging. 

They really do love each other.

We picked Brother up from school last week and you know what was the first thing was he said when we got in the car?  "Sister, I missed you!"  Me = puddle.  Then another day after we got home from pick-up, he gave her the biggest hug ever and she hugged him right back.  If these moments did not happen so quickly, I would record them if only so I could prove to them in 10 years that there was a day when they really did love each other.

So, there has been less fighting over Sister stealing batman and Brother grabbing back a train.  (Side note: That Sister is no joke.  She steals toys right out of Brother's hands, lays on top of them, and giggles.  Perhaps she is going to give us a run for our money?)  Life has been a little bit more pleasant and enjoyable because this Mommy has not had to separate kids that just do not want to play nicely together.

I will sit here nicely, if only for my brother.

So all of this is a little too cute, right?  Well, here's where it gets a little more fun. 

We all know that 18-month-olds can be a little challenging, to put it mildly.  Based on my own personal experience,  I also would wager that 18 month old girls, in particular, are even more so.  And my daughter has certainly not been an exception.  If she does not want to do something, it's just not happening, no matter how much I sweet-talk or bribe.  It's her way, or forget it.  She is the very definition of strong-willed and opinionated.

Let's say she refuses to eat one bite of her dinner, and I try to airplane it into her mouth - it's just not happening.  But if I then coerce have her darling brother to simply ask her to take a bite of said food. Bam. In the mouth.  Same for getting dressed, taking a bath, picking up toys, and on.  It's a bit ridiculous really.  My word is mud.

It is required now that Sister must do exactly what she sees her older Brother doing.  We also have to make sure we now have two of everything.  Maybe I am naïve but I really didn't see this happening at such a young age.  This morning, for example, we dropped Brother off at school and she completely lost it when it was time for her to say good-bye.  She had already found her place at the table and was ready to color, you see.  I had to drag her kicking and screaming, literally, out of the room.

Brother also plays soccer.  So, Sister must play soccer.  Last week for his first practice, she threw another fit because she wanted soccer socks and a soccer ball just like her Brother.  So, she wore the knee-high socks with her sneakers and carried along a baby-sized soccer ball and off we went.  Temper tantrum averted. 

At the end of the day, I'll take all this sibling love and milk it for all it's worth.  Why not capitalize on it and even encourage it a little more, right?  Sister looks at her bigger, older Brother with adoring eyes and I know that this relationship will only grow stronger as they get older.  Right??? Please say yes!     

How I am Breaking the Rules the Second Time Around

If you've been around here for awhile reading about both mine and Sarah's journey through parenting, you may have noticed that we truly try to emulate the title of our blog.  Two (or To) Parent Simply.  And, I really do try to. 

But, recently I have noticed that I may perhaps be internalizing this motto just a little too much.  Maybe I am getting a little too laid back?  Or, maybe now that I have two kids I am just too busy that I am becoming "lazy," for lack of a better word, in certain areas of my parenting? 

"They" say that with your first born you go a bit overboard with everything and then with your last born you totally slack off and let them get away with murder.  This was definitely true in my childhood (let's just say I was basically on lock down while my sister, the baby, got, well, babied) and it's looking like it is going to be also true with my children.  Shoot.

I know I am not alone here in cutting corners or "forgetting" to do certain things now that there are two kids to attend to.  I also know that so many moms (and dads too) feel guilty over every little thing they do or don't do for their child that they feel they should be doing, like keeping them up past their bed time.  (Ahem, Sarah.)  Rules and schedules need to be broken once in a while in the interest of living life and having fun.  Trust me, the memories that are made when the schedule is forgotten will last a lot longer than the fact that the kid is a little tired or cranky.  They will adjust.

Some parents may be appalled by what I am about to confess. (Possibly even my partner in this blog.)  But, don't be.  I feel guilty about each of these items for a few seconds and then move on with my life.

- I cannot remember the last time I washed, disinfected or even wiped off my daughter's pacifiers.

- I hear you are supposed to give new foods to babies one at a time for a few days to ensure there is no allergy. And, to not give foods that are known to give reactions.  So, that pureed strawberry-mango combo at 6 months was a bad idea?  Oops.

- I have tried to limit the screen time for both kids.  However, there is no other earthly way possible to accomplish anything when they are both home and awake.  Therefore, CJ, the three year-old, does have TV privileges and so by default does EM, the 18 month old.  (She even knows how to turn on the TV and work the Ipad.)

- I am pretty sure my oldest did not have juice until he was at least 2 years old.  EM, however, of the words she knows well, regularly requests "apple."  And we give it to her.  (Watered down of course!) 

- If I hear a kid crying, or even screaming, I do not immediately go running.  I give it a minute or two and see if they can just take care of it on their own.  If it gets louder, then I go investigate.


I think that's enough confessing for one day!  So, am I terrible?  Or, can you relate and if so, what would you add to this list?  Please share so I know I am not alone here! 

Another way being the youngest rocks: Ice Cream!

Mommy's Being Mean

A few days ago I had one of those days. 

Regardless if you stay at home or work full-time, you know the kind of day I am referring to, right?  When nothing goes your way no matter what you do.  When you are tired, the patience is worn thin (or out) and you just need a little space to catch your breath and figure out the next move. When the kids don't behave regardless if you talk in your sweetest, most loving voice or scream at the top of your lungs.  When you also have 15 phone calls to make, several hours of errands to do not humanly possible with two kids in tow, a house to clean and dinner to make.  Let's also throw in a new job to figure out (more on that, later).

By dinner time, I was just exasperated.  Mostly because my three and a half year old and 18 month old would not stop with the fighting over every little toy we own. Which was turning into pushing, shoving, and hair pulling - and that's from EM, the 18 month old! (Side note: I'm thinking this girl is going to be able to hold her own on the playground...)  Who knew that this would even be a problem at these ages?!  Not me. 

Anyway, they were bringing their battle to the kitchen where I was trying to make dinner while simultaneously answering a few emails, return a phone call, and do the dishes.  Screaming and crying ensued over a wooden banana and a wooden steak. 

So what did I do?  The only rational thing of course.  I lost it.  I proceeded to give them a lecture of epic proportions that likely they did not even understand.  I also may have been raising my voice  just a tad.  It wasn't my prettiest moment as a parent but, in retrospect, the entire day was leading up to this and, frankly, I had nothing left. 

CJ, the older, perhaps a little wiser one, responded to my tirade with, "Come on sister. Mommy's being mean. Let's go."  And he took her hand, and walked them out of the room.  They then proceeded to QUIETLY and NICELY play for at least the next 20 minutes.  THEY LEFT ME ALONE.  I literally did not hear another peep.

Moral of the story:  Sometimes it is perfectly OK to get a little fiesty at your kids.  (I'm kidding, kinda.)  They won't like you for it (I promise, that's fleeting) but they may just leave you alone as a result!  And, if they learned even a little something (like, maybe, Mommy is only human, is not a saint, and needs a minute to breathe), it seems like a win-win to me. 

A moment of adoration for big brother.  And it was just that- a moment!

Refusing To Participate In The Terrible Twos

I can hear you laughing at me.  "How naïve she is," you're saying. Well, hush.

I get this drive to have it all together from my Mother. Thanks, Mom. When I graduated high school, my 'Senior Superlative' as written by my friends was "most likely to become her Mom."  I hated them for that back then and now realize that they could not have been more accurate.  I like to be the ring leader in my own circus.

So. AK is now closer to two than she is to one. If there is such thing as a perfect newborn, infant, baby and early toddler, she's it. She has given me so little trouble, headache, heartache, you name it. She's just a good freakin' kid. Case in point was last weekend. She laughs until my own cheeks hurt and I feel like my heart sings when I am with her.

But, holy crap. She kinda acted two last weekend. It came from left field. I wasn't expecting it. Suddenly, she's throwing a mini-tantrum at the plant nursery because she wants to ride in the dilapidated mini red coupe car sitting in the sand. She didn't want her raspberries and how dare me for offering them to her, so she deliberately stuck her finger so hard into each one of them that it not only squirted red raspberry juice on my shirt, but it pitifully smushed it onto her tray so she could, with one swoop of her hand, throw it onto the wall. Yelling "NO" in the process. WTH? Where's my angel baby?

You do understand that you ARE going to get me what I want out of that cupboard, yes?

She's almost two. That's where she is.

Hold up. I'm not participating in the Terrible Twos. Just not. I haven't had the heart to tell her yet, but we're getting there. I will gently and kindly explain to her that the behavior that often accompanies two-year-olds will not be welcome in our house. And, I am sure she will listen. (Insert sarcastic laugh here).

So much of life is about the attitude we have when dealing with the things that enter our journey, isn't it? So, can I attempt to maintain an attitude that encourages my little two-year-old to still experience the fun in life while being that ever elusive good kid? I think so.

I don't want to over-parent her, whatever that is. I don't want to helicopter. But, I do want her to learn to respect boundaries and most of all, know that I am her Momma. I am in charge. I'm a really fun Momma (to her, anyway) and I play like I'm two. But, I'm the boss.

At the end of the day, she sat in her rocking chair, quietly reading a book. When she saw me, she patted the spot next to her and said, "Sit, Momma." I melted.

And, then I sat.

The Disaster that is Dinnertime

File this one under: Things I said I would never do before I became a parent.

I will not be a short-order cook. I will not have picky eaters for children. I will not cook only kid-friendly meals. I will not let my kids watch TV during mealtime.  I will not....

You get the point. I have now broken all of these in the last week.

Over the past few weeks our meal times, specifically dinner time, has turned into something that my husband and I can hardly believe we are actually living.  Like, in real life.  It is something we smugly thought, prior to kids, that we would NEVER have to experience.  Because we would not allow our children to do behave in such ways.

Our precious little cherubs, you see, have apparently been conspiring to turn our dinner time into one of the most stressful, chaotic, and dreaded parts of the day complete with more whining, crying, and screaming than should exist in an entire day let alone one meal. 

CJ has always been a child we had to convince to eat.  He has hungry days and then no appetite for weeks.  It took a while to be ok with this fact but we did eventually get over it and stop trying to actively shove food down this throat.  Lately, however, he is skipping meals altogether rather than his normal 5 or 6 bites.  And so the desire to shove said food has resumed.

EM has been the complete opposite of CJ when it comes to eating and appetite.  (As she is turning out to be in most things when compared to her brother.)  Let's just say that when she started eating solid food around 9 months, she found a new best friend.  She has been known also, after consuming her meal, to finish what is remaining on her brother's plate.  Meal times have had to revolve around this girl's appetite, because when she is hungry, you better have that food ready. 

So lately, as I already mentioned, CJ has been actually refusing dinner. We decided that, fine, he can just go play while we eat and no food for him.  Three days later of this and sister jumped on that bandwagon: if brother isn't going to sit and eat then neither is she.  And there goes our one good eater.  Now we have had about a week of basically forcing two kids to sit and eat their (child-friendly) dinners.  I think the most consumed by either has been 3-4 bites. 

And, they are hungry.  Because around 7:30/8 pm, right before bedtime, both of them start demanding snacks.  And that is just not gonna fly around here. 

Last night, neither kid wanted to sit but both were a cranky mess and definitely needed to eat.  CJ ended up on my lap eating which was totally working until EM got jealous because she was not also on my lap.  A mini-temper tantrum ensued and voila, sister ended up on one leg and brother on the other.  Neither wanted Daddy's lap.  (Lucky Daddy.)  I felt I had reached a new low.  BUT, they both ate their dinners.

Tonight, I tried a few new methods.  Methods I don't feel my mother would approve of but I have reached the point of "whatever works."  First, we all took bites together.  This was met with enthusiasm and both kids loved it. Score.  EM was allowed to stand, in her highchair, while eating.  But she was eating.  CJ, meanwhile, enjoyed a game of take one bite for each finger on my hand and I will have no fingers left to tickle you with.  In the end, about 3/4 of both dinners were consumed and I am happy with that. 

I need a longer term fix however.  We need to get our mealtimes back on track because we cannot exist like this. It's just not fun.  And, I am not creative enough to keep coming up with new games to get these kids to eat.

What do your mealtimes look like?  Any suggestions to get us back on track?  Up until recently, we have always been so proud of our ability to pull together a family dinner time most days of the week.

Definitely breaking some rules here but she's eating!

How do you Teach Your Little Kids about Strangers without Scaring the Cr@p Out of Them?

The answer: I don't know. 

I am hoping some of you reading this can help me figure out where to start because I feel clueless. 

My oldest, CJ, is the kid who introduces himself to everyone.  He is a charismatic charmer by nature and my social butterfly.  And, he's been this way since he was born.  He has always loved people - talking to them, meeting new people, going new places, asking a million questions and soaking it all in. 

Just the other day we were at the grocery store and half way through an aisle I stopped to peruse the shelves.  I hear from behind me, "Hi, I'm CJ, what's your name? This is my sister EM and that is my mommy.  What are you looking for? Why do you have that? Where do you live?" and then, "Mommy, what's that lady doing? Why is she doing that?" And he does this everywhere we go.

I am so hesitant to correct this and I just am unsure how to approach this entire subject - especially with a three year old.  Even more so with a three year old who loves the world.  I worry I will stifle his outgoing and friendly personality which is so inherently him.  CJ's personality and his outgoing nature is one of his best (and most endearing) traits.  As one of my friends labeled it, he is a child of the world.

Once we start talking so gloom and doom about strangers, I fear that part of him may not grow and develop as it is meant to.  Yet, we need to start talking about this subject because he is old enough to be approached by a stranger up to no good.  Or, am I overthinking this already? 

And, don't even get me started on the potential "bad" people we may already know.  If I don't know how to talk about strangers, I definitely don't have a clue how to start the conversation on good touch/bad touch, particularly when it may happen by someone we know. 

I desire more than anything to protect my children from any and all harm in life. It seems this is one of those gray areas that no matter how hard we try as parents to protect, there are forces outside of our control at work here. I guess our real job as parents is to equip our children with the knowledge they need to navigate life successfully.  And that includes knowing the difference between good strangers and bad strangers.

I guess you kind of figure this out as you go, right? A little information here and a short comment there so as not to overwhelm or scare them and over time children learn about stranger danger. 

How did you start teaching your little ones about strangers? 

Ready to meet some new friends!

My Little Tornado, aka My Daughter

Holy moly, is a 15 month old busy!  Where in the world do they get this energy from?  I may not take a nap every day and sleep 12 hours a night (frankly, ridiculously less lately due to that same 15 month old waking every day at 4:45 am, thankyouverymuch. And remember, I am currently laid-off, therefore not needing to wake so early), but I still can't figure out where the reserves for this level of activeness come from.  Although EM is my second baby, I guess I forgot about this part.  

Toys are inconsequential, many days food is too. The only thing of interest is getting those little hands on anything and everything that has not been locked up or tied down and throwing it in her wake.

When do they stop being little tornados?

Frankly, there are days that I could do without that tornado that tears through my house multiple times per day.  I don't even know where all this stuff comes from - most of our cupboards are child-proofed but not everything we own is able to be either.  I know you may say, just leave the mess until the end of the day.  I do.  I clean it all up at the end of the day after bed time, except that which creates a tripping hazard through my kitchen.  Is it wrong to want just a wee bit of order even throughout the day?

I know this is a phase and it too shall pass.  And, as my husband reminded me this morning, when EM is 15 years old and being difficult as only a teenage girl can be, we will fondly look back on her tornado days with a tear in our eye at the preciousness of it all.  I do not disagree. Yet, part of me cannot wait to be through this particular phase.  Does that make me a terrible mom? 

This age is truly adorable and enjoyable for so many other reasons.  EM is starting to talk, developing such a wonderful personality, and a real relationship with her brother, and watching her figure out the world around her is an amazing experience as her parent.  She is a light and a joy to our family.  She laughs louder and harder and we all follow suite.  We marvel at her silliness.

Yet, this tornado part of being a 15 month old is getting just a bit exhausting for this mommy.  Can't we just sit and play nicely (and maybe quietly) with a few toys?  Nope, there she goes again.  Off to go rescue her brother's beloved trucks before he notices.

How To Talk So Your Kids Will Listen?

Does anybody out there know the answer to this question? 

We seem to be going through a, hopefully brief, phase here.  CJ is my oldest, who is currently 3 years 4 months old, is just not listening these days.  And by not listening, I mean no amount of yelling, talking nicely, talking quietly, bribery, taking away of toys or privileges, time-outs, or anything else I can think of seems to be getting his attention.  He does what he wants until I am so exasperated that he finally goes along with what I am requesting of him, if only because I have scared him into it. 

I know what you may be thinking- be patient, he's only 3!  I do get this in concept, however, many days we need to be places at a certain time and I just don't have the time for him to take 23 minutes to go potty, walk to the door, and put on his shoes.  Frustration, unfortunately, wins.  (Frankly, Mommy could use a time-out once in a while.) 

I have to believe I am not alone in this struggle.

I sometimes have a glimmer of what's going on here.  CJ is asserting his independence and making his own decisions.  As I have said before, this is a kid who is fiercely independent and has demonstrated in many ways that he will decide the direction of his life - already at 3! (And, what does this mean we are in for down the road!?)

I also sometimes think that maybe this is a cry for attention.  To be honest, many moments of the day I am distracted when CJ is present.  Whether its tending to his little sister who is 15 months, making or cleaning up a meal, performing various job search activities while I navigate this new time at home, or any of the other myriad of daily chores inevitable with young children, I can't always be completely 100% devoted to giving him the attention he needs and deserves.  I have tried to become more aware of this and have made it a goal that once a day I spend some amount of quality one-on-one time devoted to just CJ.  The problem: it just does not seem to be enough to satisfy him.

So back to my dilemma:  How do I talk to CJ so he will listen and respond?  (And, so that I do not have to repeat myself 55 times before he responds.)  I do feel that I have tried to communicate to him utilizing various types of communication but no one thing seems to be truly effective. 

Sometimes he does respond appropriately.  And, truth be told, it is usually when I talk very calmly and nicely while holding his hand and/or looking him directly in the eye, with no nearby distractions. 

I need to try harder to always do this.  Sometimes, in the chaos of life, it just seems too hard to stop what I am doing and spend a few extra minutes to explain what I need him to do.  Although, I guess those extra minutes could save me even more down the road if he listens and responds right away, huh? 

Maybe I have answered my own question after all.  In the meantime, I know one mom that needs to practice even more patience and understanding and not place unrealistic expectations on these little ones.

CJ recently got treated to lunch at Costco for good listening.
(Not ashamed to admit my attempts at bribery.)