Creative Re-branding

The longer I work my business, the more I realize the importance of what to say -- or more precisely, how to say it. It turns out that the way that something is presented to someone can truly influence how they feel about it. Case it point: dinner with two sorta picky eaters...

We have recently discovered that they LOVE edamame. If you're saying, "eda-what?" I'm right there with you. I thought that this was just some creative re-branding for "lima beans," which is what these babies seem to resemble quite closely. Then I wondered why they taste different from the way I remembered. (And that was not fondly, in case you're wondering.) Why would my kids LOVE something that I hated as a kid?

A quick web search had me realizing that edamame is an entirely different bean: soy. The weird thing is that the kids aren't normally big bean eaters, but they really, really LOVE them some edamame -- or "eda-beans!" as they shriek excitedly when they see these on the table. (No, really, you can't make this stuff up. My kids go nuts for baby soy beans.)

{Edamame: It's What's for Dinner!}

My point? If I called these what they are -- immature soy beans -- my children would almost certainly turn up their noses and refuse to eat them. Admittedly, even I find that a bit gross-sounding. But when we call them "edamame" it sounds just exciting enough to be something that even the tiniest of food critics can get enthused about, without being over-the-top exotic and foreign (a.ka. "too weird to eat").

Translation: little people willingly devour second and third helpings of this stuff. Go, Mommy (and Daddy, because he was the one who nuked this particular bag 'o beans.) Creative re-branding = parenting win! Hats off to you, soybean marketing folks of the world.

Our House in August

Here they are -- the kids' quotes from August -- the things that made me scratch my head, laugh out loud (and occasionally into my hand), and wonder where do they come up with this stuff, anyway?

8/2/14
L {while riding in the van}: "Someone honk-ded their tooty horn."
Keep reading for more education on the dual definition of the word "toot."

8/4/14
M: "Are there cookies that haven't been invented yet?"
Yup.

8/5/14
M {explaining to her brother why they should pick up toys}: "Mama likes it when we do this, so let's keep doing it!"
Why can't this type of conversation (and subsequent cleaning frenzy) take place more often around here?

8/6/12
L: "Hey!" {after she had pulled his ball cap off his head}
M {putting it back on his head}: "If you wear it backwards, you look cool."
I wonder where she heard that?

8/8/14
M: "If you see me stare, I'm looking at air. Got it?"
Um, okay. If you say so.

8/8/14
M: "I don't like it when people ask me questions out loud."
I can't say for sure but maybe I questioned why she was staring into space -- or air. Duly noted. Next time, I shall use my powers of telepathy.

8/10/14
L: "Look at those flat trees!"
He noticed the vines growing up the sides of a brick building at MSU, which did, in fact, look exactly like a flat tree. And I never would have noticed.

8/14/14
M: "Mom, the dog smells like graham crackers."
Is it bad that I looked around for evidence that a certain little girl had been feeding her graham crackers?

8/17/14
M {while eating mixed nuts}: "Where do almonds come from?"
L: "Cactuses!"
Honestly, this is one of those times when it's just simpler -- and funnier -- to keep my mouth shut.

8/17/14
M {crying}: "I want to stay little forever!"
Me: "What do you mean?"
M: "I want to stay a kid forever, but I can't!"
I so LOVE that she feels this way. Gonna have to remember it when she's about fourteen.

8/17/14
L: "The tub is still drooling." 
On closer inspection, he is correct. The faucet is still running.

8/20/14
M: "This is how you speak lion, 'ROAR, ROAR!'"
L: "Well, how do you speak jaguar?"
M {quieter}: "'Rawr, rawr.'"
Couldn't have explained it better myself.

8/25/14
L: "There's two kinds of toot. Toot is from a whistle and toot is from a bottom."
Oh, yes, he is such a BOY.

8/27/14
M: "When I'm bored, you can just tell me to do my homework."
If you say so...

8/28/14
L {popping into our bedroom before 7:00 AM, fully dressed -- in an interesting plaid combination}: "Hey, guys, did you know today is my birthday?!"
You don't say? I guess he figured out that we already knew that when the coveted two-wheel "big kid" scooter was waiting for him downstairs.

{Mad for Plaid and No Stopping Me Now!}

A Boy's World

Some days I think that I will never truly understand this kid. I really just do not know what goes on inside his little head. One thing is for sure. He often brings a smile to my face just by being himself. For example, today's snack time turned into a creative activity. The dinosaurs all got new shoes made from grapes and Goldfish crackers. (I am guessing this was inspired by yesterday's trip to the shoe store for new sneakers.) It's pretty ingenious, albeit impractical. But really, what's the point of always being practical? This life lesson brought to you by my four-year-old.

{Perhaps even dinosaurs need new shoes.}

Summer Diary of a Stay at Home Mom

Summer Vacation Day 1:

- Extracted loose tooth from girl child’s mouth. (This was good because she had been whining for days about it hurting her.)

- Boy child peed on both sofa cushions.

- Did 3 loads of laundry (when I normally do 1 per day) because boy child is having potty training regression. (Haha. See above.)

- Figured out that 101 Dalmatians is the perfect length to get the lawn mowed. (Seriously, I couldn’t have planned it better. “The End” popped up on the TV screen as I walked inside, meaning that that children had no time to create mischief.)

- Located and used plunger to deal with boy child’s overly enthusiastic usage of toilet paper. (Reminded self that he used the toilet and cleaned himself up – progress!)

- Finally convinced kids to have some outside time, not that we lasted as long as we hoped. (What’s up with the temps in the 60’s?!)
- Did I mention it was Friday the 13th and there was a full moon? (Or does that go without saying?)

Summer Vacation Day 2:

- Our first day of VBS. We are exhausted.

- Kids are cranky and refuse to play outside, and so they are passing time by annoying one another. Fantastic.

- Zumba for stress relief. Obviously.

Summer Vacation Day 3:

- Another day when kids get overtired at VBS and then refuse to play outside.
- Had to carry boy child out of VBS, kicking and screaming. (Cannot recall exact reason, but he was MAD.)

- Boy child poops his pants. {face palm}

- Girl child asks to do homework! {tiny victory dance}

- Zumba is not an option, so Mommy resorts to having a hard cider. (Note: It was terrible and I only drank half of it. Save your money and do not get Johnny Appleseed.)

- Fortunately, a hot bath helped. (Why haven’t I had one of those in so long?)

Summer Vacation Day 4:

- Boy child decided to frontload his tantrum for the day. He had an absolute meltdown over losing a single penny that he had brought to donate to the VBS offering.
- Success! They weren’t so crabby after VBS and we were able to go to summer reading program kickoff and see some fun science experiments. (Girl child informs me that we simply must buy some Mentos and Diet Coke… despite the fact that we eat/drink neither of those things and she has seen this experiment done three times – twice this week! Kids.)

- Learned that girl child has a weird gift: She can catch flies with her bare hands and then release them outside. Second day in a row! Have a mini Mr. Miyagi comes in handy when your flyswatter is missing in action. (Where can that thing be…?)

- Stress relief option for tonight: shopping without children. It’s a wee bit sad when going to Target alone is your definition of Heaven on Earth, but there it is. (The only issue is that you have no one to bounce things off which means you spend entirely too long in a dressing room debating whether or not to purchase elastic waist pants. Yes, they fit, which is HUGE, and they were comfortable and cute, but seriously? Elastic waist pants? Do you really want to go there?! You note material: rayon and care instructions: dry flat. Ha! As if! You wisely put them back and try to pretend you were never really considering them in the first place.)

Summer Vacation Day 5:

- It’s nice to hear them singing the VBS songs. Really, I need to keep reminding myself of this.

- Mommy is the one who is cranky and tired today. Working VBS is exhausting! (No wonder all those other moms just drop their kids off and leave…) It does not help that I am a teensy bit hormonal. (Tomorrow’s the last day for VBS! Then, I can rest a bit.)

- Boy child is being ridiculously loud. And for him, that's saying a lot. He normally only has the one volume setting: loud, but today it's just insane. 

- Why won’t they play outside?! They need it desperately! (And not just for the reason listed above, but oh my goodness, is that a huge factor.)

- Taking photos at softball game for some stress relief. (Yeah, the kids are finally playing outside!)

- Was planning to work on this blog post for more relaxation but accidentally deleted entire thing somehow… and now am trying to rewrite it from memory. {feel like crying} Good news, though, I don't think my brain is quite as decayed as I fear. Most of it is coming back to me.

- In happier news, I have a fabulous new Jamicure which makes me smile.

- Also, chocolate should be its own food group. That is all.

Summer Vacation Day 6:
- Boy child wet his pants during the last few minutes of the last day of VBS. (Fortunately, I had extra clothes in the van, and I had to at least be glad that he made it through the rest of the week without that happening.)
- Then the MAJOR meltdown happened. Cannot even explain what it was all about. He was upset that I threw his potato chips away, I think, and he wanted an ice pop.
- Girl child tore her fingernail and was extremely tired, so she was nearly in tears while all this was going down. (She wasn't the only one who felt that way.)
- Hallelujah! He fell asleep on the way home and napped for 3 hours. This gave her some good down time before getting ready for dance recital.
- I am not good at putting my seven-year-old's hair in a bun. Or applying red lipstick to her tiny mouth. These things stress me out beyond belief -- not to mention that she had her first ever costume-change during recital, and she performed at the beginning and at the END of the show, which is insanely long. It was after 9:00 when I finally got her from backstage (after waiting in that torturous line... WHY? Why do they make me wait every year when I just want to get her home and in bed?!)
- Also, it rained, so I didn't get any photos with decent lighting because we couldn't take any outside. {pouts}
- On the plus side, (because I really need to find a silver lining, and possibly some chocolate...) we made it through recital, made it through VBS, and made it through the first week of no school! It can only get easier from here on out, right?

I've been Deceived (and There's a Dead Fish in My Purse)

Yesterday started off as a great family day. We had the last swim lesson, and we had promised the kids way back on the first day of class that they would earn an ice cream treat at the completion of the five-week session. So, we went to Dairy Queen and had Blizzards -- for lunch! (We had never had ice cream as a meal before, but it made me feel like a pretty cool mom.) Then, on the way out of the mall, we were passing through the sporting goods store and Logan wanted to ride the escalator. So we did. Up and then down. Just because. I went home on cloud nine, absolutely convinced that we were the most awesome parents in the world.

It turns out that this may not be all that accurate.

Let me back track a bit and mention that on Friday, Mia's first fish, Bluey, had gone to the big fish bowl in the sky. (If you're keeping track, this meant we only had him for four days.) Of course, she was very upset, and I was frustrated. I thought we had done everything correctly. We had set up the tank last Sunday according to the directions given by the kid at the pet store and then had gone back the next day to get the fish. He was happy for about a day and then he started to look bad, and then he looked worse, and then by Friday morning, he was barely hanging in there. I prepared her for the worst and dropped her at school, returning later to find that Bluey was dead.

I called the pet store, trying to figure out what the problem might be so that we could fix it before plunking another betta into the tank. The guy on the phone said bring in a water sample to have the pH level tested. So, I did that Friday night and he said the pH level was actually good, but there was another issue: the nitrite level was way too high and he said nothing could have survived in that water. (Correct me if I'm wrong here, but wouldn't this have been good information to give someone before her kid spent her own money to buy a fish?!) Then he told me to take out about 1/3 of the water in the tank (our well water) and replace it with spring water. (Again, shouldn't they have told us this in the first place?!)

I told Mia I would get it sorted out, and we went back on Saturday afternoon. (Remember, this after the swim lesson, ice cream lunch, and escalator ride that had me feeling like Super Mom so I was feeling cautiously optimistic.) Fortunately, I was also thinking ahead a bit and I took both the dead fish (with receipt, for exchange) and another sample of water, just to be safe. Turned out that the water was still problematic, so it was good that I thought to have them test it again. (The only downside was that I then had a dead fish in my purse.) We returned home, and Mia was weirdly okay with still not having a second fish. She has taken this whole thing better than I have, so maybe I am doing something right with this parenting business.

Later that day, things took a turn for the worse.

I was busy with something when I noticed that familiar odor coming from the living room. (And no, it wasn't the dead fish. He was secure in his Ziploc bag inside my purse.) "Logan," I asked, "Are you poopy?" "Yes!" was his immediate response. Wonderful, at least he was honest. This is progress. At this point I am just hoping to have him fully toilet-trained before he is ready to head off to college.

So, I carried him into the bathroom to get him cleaned up, at which point he informed me that it was diarrhea and it had been running down his legs. The. Whole. Time. He got a bath, and so did the the floors.

That was exhausting. I was pretty sure that things were going to be looking sunny again after dinner, though, because we had purchased Frozen while we were out shopping. We were going to have a family movie night! (This is something I am told that good parents do.) We had not actually seen this movie before (and yes, I realize that we are practically the only people in in the known universe who hadn't -- except for some people in some obscure place like Timbuktu or something.) Anyway, our kids tend to be scared by new movies, and thus, we hardly ever go to them.

I was sure it would be fine, though, because ALL of America had told me so. "It's such a great family movie!" you all gushed. "Your kids will love it!" you claimed. "Full of positive messages!" you declared. Lies. All lies. I've been deceived, people! 

The kids were TERRIFIED, and not just once, but numerous times. In truth, the actual plot of the movie is very intensely frightening at times. While I will agree with you folks about the positive messages, I have to say that they are rather mature themes, and really are more appropriate for older kids. That said, who cares about the positive messages when each parent is holding a crying child (one of whom is half-hiding behind a couch cushion because he simultaneously wants to watch and doesn't want to watch) and making him or her to endure in order to get to the happy ending?

I went to bed feeling like crap because I had forced my kids to watch a scary movie because everyone else said it was okay. (And, also, I had just received a permission slip in the Friday Folder because the first grade teacher is planning to show it to the class this coming Friday, and I wanted her to have the experience of seeing it with us first!) What kind of messed up peer-pressure parenting is that?

Now, back to that dead fish in my purse... The Sunday school teacher told me after class that Mia announced, "My mom has a dead fish in her purse!" (Luckily, she has a good sense of humor and found this amusing, adding, "I love how brutally honest she is!") She noted that Mia had spent most of the time diligently working on a card that read, "Dear Blooeye the fish, I am praying for you! Love, Mia." I couldn't help but think that she should have invested some prayer power into Bluey II.

After church, we took a third water sample to the pet store after church, and I was relieved to hear that it was acceptable. (I did one thing right, at least.) Mia finally has her replacement betta, and nice orange fellow aptly called Orangey.

{What? You didn't expect a picture of the purse fish, did you?!}

After getting Orangey acclimated and then released into his new home, I returned down stairs and discovered that Ritzy was pulling things out of my purse -- including that Ziploc bag containing the remains of Bluey -- now not so fresh since we had made multiple trips to the pet store just for water sample testing. Thank God that dumb dog didn't figure out how to open the bag. (And God bless my child who let me unceremoniously flush the poor thing who apparently never stood a chance of survival.) I had dealt with enough messes for one weekend!

Morals of This Tired Mom Rant Story:

1. Don't believe everything you hear! (Be it movie recommendations, or how to properly care for a betta fish. "They're really hardy," means squat if the water is uninhabitable.)
2. Dead fish should not be kept in one's purse. Or, if you must keep a dead fish in your purse awaiting "burial" at least keep it out of the dog's reach.
3. Being a mom is hard. I think this bears repeating.

Back in the Running!

Good news, everyone! I am officially back in the running for Mom of the Year. Yesterday, I figured out that if I arranged the grilled cheese sandwich slices in a pyramid shape and then nestled fruits and veggies into the compartments, the little dude would nearly make it into the "Clean Plate Club." (Not that I ever force the kids to eat everything, but you get the point, right?) This was huge, like 3-point-shot-from-the-half-court-line-nothin'-but-net HUGE. Go, Team Mommy!

{Mommy shoots and scores! Everyone wins!}

To make the pyramid, first cut the sandwich in half on the diagonal to get two triangles. Set one aside and cut the other in half to make two smaller triangles. Place the large triangle upright, with the flat side as its base. Then, set each of the two smaller triangles flush against the big triangle, so that the flat cut edges serve as the bases and the sides that rest against the large triangle. It should look like the two small triangles are pieced back together, with the other sandwich half dissecting them. This sounds slightly complicated as I am trying to explain it, but it is truly simple!

On Letting Go

I was really, really looking forward to this day. I had talked about it for months (occasionally with random strangers at Kroger or Meijer, anyone who was within earshot and might appear to care even slightly). As soon as Logan started preschool, I was going grocery shopping WITHOUT KIDS!

So, when his first day of preschool came, it didn't occur to me to be sad. I had spent so long dreaming of a couple of hours in which I could actually hear myself think -- whatever that means. We had done our best to prepare him for school, but little did I know that I was the one who should have been preparing.

The drive to school ended up being more than I anticipated and the whole time I was focused on getting him there in one piece. The fog was dreadful that morning, I was still getting over being awfully sick, and to make matters worse, I had completely forgotten about the detour in downtown (which can happen when one is in a mental fog).

It goes without saying that we were a bit late. Of course, this didn't phase my little dude one bit. He was seriously excited to start school. His only upset that morning was when he learned that he would not get a lunch since he wouldn't be staying the whole day. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Not caring about being behind schedule, he ran right in and sat down on the colorful alphabet rug. I was slightly disheartened to not get even a fist bump and I must have voiced this because the teacher told him I needed a fist bump and he obliged before heading back to the rug. I left the classroom feeling deflated. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Weirdly enough, that is when it finally dawned on me that my baby was headed off to school. This was the last time that I would go through the first day of preschool. Even though he will always be my baby, he's not actually a baby any longer! Then, I felt a twinge of sadness, the emotion that I hadn't prepared myself for. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore?

Someone once told me that parenting is a process of letting go. I think that this definition is apt because oftentimes the littlest things suddenly take on a monumental quality -- dropping my baby off at preschool for the first time -- but if I stop and think about it with more perspective, it all seems more reasonable, more like something I can take on. All of a sudden, he doesn't need me anymore? 

No! Of course, he still needs his mommy. At four years old, though, he simply doesn't need me to hold his hand when he goes off on a new adventure. While this was very unexpected -- Mia has always been much more cautious of new experiences, a quality she comes by quite honestly -- it's not at all bad. So, he doesn't need me quite as much as he used to. This change is not as sudden as I might have thought. We have worked toward this, taking baby steps toward independence all along the way. If anything, this is my biggest success story as a parent: helping to foster his autonomy.

The funny thing is that it's harder on me, this letting go. Today, as I pushed my shopping cart around Kroger (a regular cart, not the ridiculously unwieldy race car model that I would have been forced to struggle with had my little dude been along), I felt kind of alone. It wasn't the dream "vacation" that I had mentally built it up to be. It was just a trip to the store -- minus the 3-foot-tall dictator whining for a second Dum Dum sucker because he had finished it before we even made it out of the produce department.

While it was a much quieter shopping trip, it took me that same amount of time, and I spent just as much money. (And here I was thinking that I would really up my coupon game without the distraction of my noisy little guy.) As I went past the end cap with all the Hot Wheels cars, I noticed it was quite picked over, and I was reminded of my favorite little boy who had swiped two cars on two separate shopping trips in the past few weeks -- while I was busy fussing with said coupons. As frustrating as those trips to Kroger had been after I discovered the torn-open packages, seeing that display made me smile.

It turns out that shopping without kids isn't all it's cracked up to be, at least not until I get the hang of it. For now, I am just trying to embrace my mixed emotions about Logan getting older. Excitement turned to sadness at the drop of a hat. Who knew that growing up would be harder for the mommy than it is for the little boy?

{NOT a baby, but always my baby!}

When Exactly Does It Get Easier?

I often hear other moms say that "boys are easier." I usually just nod my head and smile, all the while thinking, Really? What's wrong with my son then? He is NOT easy! Or, more to the point, What's wrong with me?! I must be really messing up this business of parenting a boy... 

I understand what they're saying to some degree. I have a daughter, too, so I have experienced my share of  D-R-A-M-A -- and we are not remotely near the teen years. So, I get it, parenting a teenage girl likely leaves a mama with a few emotional scars that make parenting her son feel like a breeze by comparison.

And, my day of teenage girl drama will come...

But what about right now? What about these crazy-busy-can't-keep-up-with-him little boy days when I want to tear my hair out because parenting a boy is NOT easy. It's downright difficult and not at all for wimps. The list of mommyisms, things that I have said to my son and that I would never dream of saying to my daughter, is growing by the day!

• "NO! We don't play catch with a rock!"
• "Stop smooshin' ants and come eat lunch."
• "We don't put our foot in the toilet."
• "No peeing in the tub! No peeing on your sister!!"
• "Hey, Buddy, 10 minutes, and then you've got to get pants on." (Because, you know, I don't want the other people at the bus stop to think I'm a bad mom!)

So, been-there-done-that moms, I know you mean well, but I don't agree that moms of boys hold the monopoly on "easy." While these exchanges with my little man were very different from ones I have had with my daughter, they weren't easier in any way. (Seriously, I have never had to tell her not to pee on her brother or beg her to wear pants outside of the house!) Can we please just agree that boys are different? 

While different has meant more dirt in more places (Some of them very odd -- How do his ears get so dirty?), more noise (Oh.My.Goodness. It's like he has only one volume setting: LOUD!), and more phone calls to poison control, it's not better or worse than the experiences I have had with his sister. The main distinction in the relationships between my kids and me is how we relate to each other. I am starting the believe that the saving grace of boys -- those messy little monsters who swing from the curtains and climb on EVERYTHING -- is just how much they love their mamas.

Take yesterday for instance, I was insanely frustrated because Logan would just not listen to me and he refused to follow any directions. He was begging me to take him "somewhere fun," and I asked him how I could possibly take him anywhere when he wasn't being a good listener. While Mia would have just huffed off, he dealt with this in his mischievously charming fashion. He grabbed my head, turned it toward his face, and then he covered me with tons of sloppy little-boy kisses.

Well, naturally I melted. How could anyone stay mad at the little Don Juan? But still, I have to wonder, When EXACTLY does it get easier?

Mommy Holds It All Together (Barely)

I try to not write negative posts because really, who wants to read it? But then, I occasionally think, well, maybe people would like to hear the honest-to-goodness not-so-great stuff and not just the "highlight reel" that I typically broadcast. So, let's be honest here. This week has been loooooooooong and difficult.

Being a mom is really hard. Moms hold the entire family together. When I say "family" I mean the schedules for all children and pets PLUS household (and sometimes yard) maintenance. Of course, the mom also has to keep track of Daddy's schedule (and while this mommy thankfully does NOT need to do all the scheduling for her husband, I do at least need to know his meetings and appointments and have them noted on the master "MOM" calendar), in order to keep the family machine well-oiled and in working order. That is not counting anything that moms need (or want!) to do for themselves. Obviously this is a tall order, and even those of us who have you all relatively fooled by our exterior presentation don't really have it all together.

While I have tried to put a positive spin on some of the more challenging curve balls that life has catapulted my way, there are not too many silver linings that I can find at the end of this crazy week.

Let's start with my refrigerator, which had some crazy electrical or mechanical or whatever mishap that caused the light bulbs to remain on. All. The. Time. At first, this was just annoying. What's with the burning smell in the 'fridge? Then, when the cover actually melted and fell off, it became more obvious what caused the burning smell. However, we decided to just live with it. Who cares if there is no cover over the light bulbs, right? 

Wrong! Whatever underlying problem that caused the melting/burning/cover destruction continued until the point at which the refrigerator overheated and it actually cooked all the food! Yes, I spent Monday afternoon tossing out the contents of the refrigerator: milk, eggs, butter, cheese, yogurt -- all very questionable. Meat? Obviously not a good idea to keep. Condiments? Who knew if they were even safe. I erred on the side of caution and pitched it all.

Now, the silver lining here was that my refrigerator was very empty, which was convenient for giving it a thorough cleaning, likely the best cleaning it has ever seen since I became a mom. And, at least it happened on the day before trash day.

The bad news was all of the phone calls that I have had to make to try to get the darn thing fixed. I won't bore you with the details, but I had to make multiple calls to both the manufacturer and the repair company because ... honestly, I don't know why. These people must not have mothers manning the phones! If they did, questions would get answered accurately and promptly, and repeat phone calls would not be needed.

Tuesday was not too terrible by comparison. Mia was stressed out over school picture day, mainly because she did not want her photo to be taken by a "stranger." I didn't really know how to fix this one other than helping her get her hair right. A stranger? Maybe that was why she had such a weird look on her face for her kindergarten picture? It should be interesting to see how this year's school portrait turns out.

The following morning got off to a frustrating start. Things did not go as planned when Logan and I went in to help out at the elementary school. (Well, I went to help. He went with matchbox cars, crayons, and a coloring book.) Essentially, someone had finished a task that was meant to be done as a group, presumably because she thought that this was helpful. For some of us (okay, just for me, the one who showed up to help with the Little Man in tow -- after I had checked and received confirmation that this would be okay) this was not particularly helpful as he was ready to "play at the school" while Mommy worked. In four-year-old world, this meant a meltdown had to occur in the hallway, while classes were in session. Ugh! Plus, I had to come up with a plan B that was satisfactory him. This mainly included the playground (which we could not stay at for long, because like I said, classes were in session) and a consolation prize: a Dum Dum sucker. (Good thing I usually carry those!)

Thursday was quite educational. I would like to thank my husband for being the person to successfully collect the dog's urine sample, which was needed for her vet appointment. As you may have guessed, this was not a routine visit; it was a special appointment that I'd scheduled since she was urinating in the house. It turned out the be a urinary tract infection, which I was not even aware that dogs could get. Our previous dog, a cocker spaniel, never had any UTIs, but now I have learned that they are fairly common in bichon frises.

So, the good news, is that this is easy to take care of -- just assuming I can get her to swallow the antibiotics. I haven't found any partially chews tablets since yesterday morning, so I think we are okay, but have you ever tried to get a dog to take pills? I swear they have some sort of spring in the back of the throat to eject whatever is not immediately recognized as "food."

And the bad news? Well, naturally I feel guilty. (This had to come up at some point in this long venting post, right?) Yep. Guilty. She was peeing all over the place, little amounts, big amounts, all times of day and night, no rhyme or reason really, for about 3 months. And I was completely clueless that she was in pain. I actually thought she was mad at us for switching her food as we were trying out different grain free formulas to try to help her with her skin allergies (another breed tendency that I was aware of). Poor baby. I had even begun to wonder if she and Logan were conspiring against me. (That's a whole different story, but let's just say that potty training is VERY challenging with this child!)

Of course, that was not the end of the big to-dos. We also had to get through soccer photos. (This meant more irrational worrying about photos being taken by a stranger... and more anxiety about getting her hair just so!) Meanwhile, Mia has been complaining of pain in her legs for the past few days, so she was not all the happy to have to go to soccer practice in the first place. We have determined that this must be "growing pains" since she can't pinpoint a particular area and it seems to be pretty constant. Fortunately, she seemed more comfortable after a dose of pink children's ibuprofen.

We got through the photos, and the soccer practice, despite everyone being T-I-R-E-D. After practice, Logan's coach asked me if I could bring the snack for the game on Saturday morning. I wish she had asked sooner because I had already went to Kroger and Walmart this week and I don't really want one more thing on my plate! So, of course, I said I would. (Mom guilt. It'll get ya every time.) I turned to Brett and asked him to remind me to pick up a snack in the morning. In typical fashion he immediately replied, "Don't forget to buy a snack tomorrow."

Um, thanks, not what I had in mind. Then I told him, "Thanks for being the glue that holds this family together." The coach laughed, and said, "Ahhhh, sarcasm. I know it well." I told her, "I learned from the best!" So, truly, he shouldn't be surprised when I throw it back at him.

So, this morning we made the all-important trip to Walmart to buy soccer snacks. (And furnace filters, except they didn't have the size we needed. At least I don't think they did. That aisle was a bigger disaster than my life at present so who can tell?) In going from the furnace filter aisle to the snacks, I had to cross the desert of clearance clothing, and obviously I had to stop and look for things for the kids.

This is where things started to go downhill fast. Logan saw a shirt that he liked. It was several sizes too large for him and he had a hard time understanding why I wouldn't buy it for him. He tried to convince me, saying, "We can put in in my grow-into bin!" "Yes, we can," I agreed, "but it doesn't make sense to buy a size 8." So, we went around to the other side to look at the smaller clothes, which is about when he decided that it was okay to climb out of the cart. I didn't want him to, and a big hissy fit ensued. After some struggle, I got him back in the cart (not before being embarrassed in front of the other mom whose kid was not having a tantrum) and we made our way over to the grocery section to buy animal crackers.

Logan had another fit in the cracker aisle, and I don't even remember what this one was about. He wanted something and I wouldn't buy it for him, no doubt. I was very glad to leave Walmart.

Now, this is the point when I clearly lost my mind. Against my better judgment, I decided we should stop at the new resale shop in town to look for pants and sweatshirts for Logan. I knew he really needed fall/winter wardrobe items and I had not been able to find them at garage sales or consignment shops because boys wear their clothes! Amazingly, we found several sweatshirts that would work, and I had him help me narrow it down to one pull-over fleece, one hoodie, and a regular sweatshirt. He was even helpful enough to try on most of the jeans I found for him. They were all much too big in the waist, which is the ongoing problem we have, so I just got him the sweatshirts, but as I was ready to pay, he was not about to leave without the wooden excavator toy that he had found.

I tried everything in my repertoire:

• "Say bye-bye to the toy, and we'll come see it another time." (Heck yeah, I found clothes that fit him! We would definitely be back.)
• "Why don't we start a Christmas list when we get home? I'm sure Santa will be happy to know that you like that toy." (Yes, Santa is always happy to have ideas in plenty of time to find good deals.)
• "I don't have enough money to buy the toy. Sorry." (I'm kind of worried about everything else that is costing me money this week, especially the 'fridge and the dog's vet bill.)
• "When you put the toy down and we're out of the store, then you can have a Dum Dum sucker!" (What do you mean you don't want a sucker?! That usually works.)
• "You don't have enough money for this either, but why don't we save up and come back when you have enough?" (Please, please....)
• "Do you want me to call Daddy?" (I was running out of rational thoughts, and really, there is no rationalizing with a four-year-old. He might be able to help!)
• "Okay, you can offer her your dollar and see what she says." (Not surprisingly, this didn't work.)
• "Well, you've left me no choice. I have to yank it out of your hand and run!" (I know the owner understands what I am going through, but still, this is so embarrassing! And, of course, another customer would show up while I am in the midst of this...)

I managed to get out of that shop with only the items I had paid for, but not without several minutes of power-struggle. In fact, he was hitting me as we were heading out the door, so the other ladies may have heard me saying those age-old words, "No. We don't hit. Hitting hurts, and we don't hit..." By the time we got back to the van, Logan was so upset that I couldn't get him buckled into his car seat. We sat for a few minutes while he calmed down, but then I realized that he had taken off his shorts and underwear. Well, this was a first! 

On the way home, I had to pull over because he had managed to pull the box of animal crackers out of my shopping bag using his feet! (That's pretty clever, I've got to hand it to him!) Then, he had gotten a package out of the box and was trying to figure out how to open it when I noticed this in the mirror. Wow!

Despite it all, the tears, the yelling, the utter weirdness -- (Really? He took his underwear off to show me just how angry he was?) -- I am holding the family together this week. While I came close to losing it, I have managed not to let them "see me sweat,". (I finally get that expression now, because believe me, I was sweating after the resale shop incident.) Yes, this mama is the glue that holds her family together --
with a mixture of bubble gum flavored ibuprofen, hair elastics, and Dum Dum suckers --the tools of the trade, apparently.

Lessons from a Lemonade Stand

Last Thursday I let the kids try their hand at running their very first business: a lemonade stand. While this is not something I ever had the opportunity to do, it seems like something every kid should do at least once during childhood. Mia really wanted to do this at some point in the summer, and I for reasons that I can't really explain given how busy we are preparing for our vacation, (Tropical island! No kids!! Ring any bells?) decided to try to cram that into our already bursting-at-the-seams schedule.

Before agreeing to this venture, I had Mia brainstorm a list of items that we would need to buy or make before setting up shop. She came up with: table, chairs, sign, pitcher, cups, balloons, and of course, lemonade. For that, I had an interesting recipe I wanted to try: watermelon lemonade (which I found in the June 21, 2013 issue of All You magazine, page 4). And, I happened to have lemons and watermelon on hand, which meant that this was as good a time as any to test the recipe and run a lemonade stand. Two birds, one stone.

Sweet Pink Lemonade (makes 12 servings)

• 6 cups water
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 4 cups watermelon, chopped 
• 1 cup water
• 2 cups lemon juice (from about 8 lemons)
• ice

1. Bring 6 cups water, 1 1/2 cups sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt to a boil, stirring occasionally.
2. Remove pan from heat, cover, and let stand for 10 minutes.
3. Puree 4 cups chopped watermelon in a blender (I used my food processor for this.) along with 1 cup of water.
4. Pour syrup and watermelon puree through a strainer into a pitcher. (This step was really messy!)
5. Stir in 2 cups fresh lemon juice. (The kids helped with the squeezing, but this was mostly a job for Mama.)
6. Serve over ice. (Hard to do when you're sitting outside for a couple of hours...)

Sounds pretty good, right? It is! However, this is a fair bit of work to put into a kids' lemonade stand endeavor. So, lesson #1 I learned is that when making a lemonade stand, don't knock yourself out making fresh squeezed lemonade from organic lemons and pureed watermelon. Seriously, I doubt that our customers knew or cared how much effort went into making the stuff. *If* we do this again, I will probably just use frozen lemonade concentrate or perhaps, more lazily, a powdered drink mix. For some reason it seemed important to keep it real, but in retrospect, I don't think it mattered.

Setting up a table and chairs was easy. Getting balloons blown up was trickier. I don't have that much hot air, it seems, and the kids are a bit young to be much help in this arena. Making a sign shouldn't have been as time-consuming as it was, but being perfectionistic, I decided to do it myself using my Cricut and some yellow and pink card stock. (I am not sure if this was the right choice or not. Mia could have done the lettering herself, of course, but I didn't think it would be as legible, so I wanted the cut-out letters to hopefully get more attention.) One thing I made sure to highlight on the sign was the word "fresh" because after all that effort, I wanted people to know they were buying a quality product! Is there a lesson here? I'm not sure, but I think it is still related to #1: don't overdo things; Keep it simple.

Now, came one of the more difficult decisions: what price to assign to a small paper cup of fresh squeezed lemonade? Initially, I was thinking only a quarter because the cups were small kitchen cups, but after all of the work invested in my kids' lemonade stand, (and thinking about having to hand wash my lemon juicer, large pot, and assorted food processor pieces...), I made the executive decision to charge 50 cents per cup. I figured $1 was too steep, and 50 cents was the next logical choice. Lesson #2 is that everything has value, including Mom's time. (However, Mom is also the person who makes sacrifices, so I decided not to charge the kids for my time or for the materials we used to make their lemonade. I'm still debating whether or not that was the right decision. I wanted them to see some "profits" but I also wanted them to recognize that everything came at a cost. Tough stuff, when you really think about it, and I thought it was just lemonade!) I think that *if* we run another lemonade stand, I really should let them have the true lesson in economics. This was just the intro course, and I omitted some of the critical learning.

Lesson #3 was more of a lesson for the children with regards to persistence. About half an hour into the waiting game, Mia announced that this was boring. (Shocker, I know!) I tried to remain optimistic even though I didn't think we would get many customers. We live on a paved road off of a dirt road, so we're kind of isolated. Our only hope was the neighborhood people and given that it was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, it didn't seem like we would get too much business. I reminded the kids that they had to be friendly and wave to all of the cars that passed by. Logan jumped on this idea immediately, and waved enthusiastically while yelling out out to each passerby, "Hi! We have a lemonade stand!!" Amazingly, we started getting customers right after this, so there is power in positive thinking.

There really are good people in the world. I think this lesson #4 hit home for me, perhaps, more than it did for Mia and Logan. Once the neighbors started showing up, they would buy more than one cup, so that meant $1 instead of 50 cents. I honestly did not expect that, because, again, I was worried that I was overcharging in the first place. Then, we had two people who made donations/tips to the lemonade stand, just because they were supportive. One neighbor said, "Here's a tip just for being an entrepreneur." Isn't that nice? (It made me feel like I should do a better job of supporting lemonade stands...) But the one thing that really impressed me was when the UPS delivery man stopped his truck just so he could buy two (again, not one but two!) cups of our by-then lukewarm lemonade. While I was a teensy bit upset over the people who promised to "come back later" and never did, in the end they sold 13 cups and got paid for more than that, which exceeded my expectations of what we could achieve in a two-and-one-half-hour window on a Thursday afternoon in our neighborhood, where people pretty much keep to themselves.

Mia learned a lesson in responsibility (#5). Our neighbors across the street actually set up a bouncy house while we were working at the lemonade stand. (We had been invited over to bounce earlier in the day, and had taken advantage of their hospitality for about a half hour.) This was a very tough decision for her, but ultimately, she decided to keep manning the stand instead of going off to do the thing that would have been immediately gratifying. I was, admittedly, shocked that she made this choice, especially after watching her weigh the choices in her mind, and seeing how hard it was for her to decide to stick with her business plan!

Lesson #6 is one on being prepared. Lemonade stands are a sticky, messy business so have lots of towels on hand for cleaning up all the spills. The drink dispenser may go haywire at some point from too many little hands fiddling with it, so make sure your extra cups are easily within reach because you may find yourself filling cup after cup, trying to keep up with the gushing. (Must not waste any of that fresh squeezed organic lemonade with pureed watermelon!) Oh, and don't forget a bag to hold all of the used cups, like I did. Sunscreen seemed like an obvious choice (check!), but little did I know, we would actually need an umbrella before the afternoon was over! Make sure your kids have their own water bottles so they are not tempted to drink up the lemonade supply. I made sure that we had change before heading outside, not knowing that we wouldn't really need it. (Nice people!) And I figured having hand sanitizer available couldn't hurt.

Once the rain got too hard, we shut down the lemonade stand, and headed inside, where I counted the money. When all was said and done, I gave each of the kids $3.50. As Brett pointed out, this wasn't the profits, it was the revenue. I had decided not to charge them the $3 for the lemons or the $2.50 for half of a watermelon that was used. Sugar and cups were such small amounts that I didn't know how to calculate the cost for those, and then there was the issue of my time. Undoubtedly, it is valuable, but it was all a gift, because I wanted them to have the experience. Lesson #7 was to just plain enjoy life! We had a good/exhausting/sticky afternoon, and we may have come out ahead by a dollar of so, but the real lessons had more to do with earning money. (This is fortunate, since there wasn't much money actually made when you do the math.) It was more rewarding for me just to let them enjoy the feeling of success, while we kicked back and finally enjoyed some of that sweet pink lemonade. I think we all earned it.

Operation Ninja Fairy

It may be time to brush up my mommy "resume." I can now say that I am a "ninja fairy," after successfully making it through our first experience with the Tooth Fairy! And this was not without a fair bit of drama and seemingly huge decision making of the non-life-threatening kind.

All day yesterday Mia was bothered by a wiggly tooth while she was at school. By dinnertime, she was crying that her mouth hurt. I, in a fit of what can only be termed temporary insanity, offered to pull it out for her. Aside from being gross and weird and causing my poor baby additional pain, this did not even work! Fortunately, it must have at least loosened it up, because the tooth came out in time for her to play outside before getting ready for bed.

{My BIG girl's 1st missing tooth!}

This was a relief for all of us as she had been nearly inconsolable with grief over losing her tooth, wailing, "I don't want to lose my baby tooth! I want to keep it." We tried reassuring her that this was a completely normal part of growing up, (while trying to maintain composure over this bittersweet rite of passage -- it's tough realizing that your baby is not really a baby any longer!), but she was far from convinced that her suffering was all worth it. The only thing keeping her from totally falling apart was her excitement about the Tooth Fairy's upcoming visit. (The anticipation of this was even enough to calm her relatively soon after the tooth fell out, when she realized, with horror, that she was GASP! Bleeding! I told you there was some drama involved in this story.)

On the topic of the Tooth Fairy, I really should do more advanced planning, it seems. This was the first lost baby tooth for our family, so I had no idea what to do. One good thing is that I had learned somewhere of a cute idea for tooth fairy "transactions." So, I purchased two Scentsy baby stuffed animals when I was at a party in December (this was one at which I was also selling Dove, before I went out of business). One is "Patch," a dog, and the other one is "Ollie" the elephant. I knew Mia would be likely losing her first tooth at some point this year, and my plan was to let her choose one, and then Logan would get the other one when he loses his first tooth. At the time, it seemed like a fun investment, but at $20 a pop it was a total splurge, not a typical purchase for me. However, having a weakness for creating new family traditions won out in the end. I know I could have made some sort of little pouch with scrap material and saved quite a bit, but this was too cute to resist, and I felt it would be less likely to get lost. (See, I really did convince myself that it was an investment.)

Fortunately, Mia loved the idea! She chose Patch, the dog, who is now called "Emma." We put her tooth into a tiny ziplock bag (that once held extra thread for a sweater) and I, being a teensy bit anal, labeled it with a black Sharpie: "Mia's First Loose Tooth 5/29/13." While the labeling probably wasn't necessary (although I do plan to keep them and let her have them in the future to do with as she decides and it's kind of neat to have a record), I was glad that it was contained in the bag. This made it much easier to retrieve the tooth from "Emma" the dog's zippered pouch -- in the darkness.

{First missing tooth -- and a new friend!}

The only problem was that I wasn't sure what to swap for the tooth. So, I set out in search of the "going rate" for teeth. First I actually Googled "going rate for tooth fairy" and immediately pulled up a poll done by Delta Dental of Illinois. (There was then a short discussion with Brett since he also works at Delta, just in one of the Michigan branches. Hey, did you know there's this ongoing poll done every year... No? Well, it comes up right away in a Google search!) According to that survey, the average amount given per tooth was $2.42 last year, with an even higher average of $3.49 given for a first tooth! WHAT?! This seemed awfully high to me, so I decided to check with my mom friends to see what "real" people are thinking on this subject. This is the (un-edited, so please excuse any typos) conversation that took place on Facebook last night:

• Me: Okay friends, what is the "going rate" for the tooth fairy these days?
• Jamie: $5.00
• Erin: She brought $5 for the first tooth.
• Me: That seems high! I got a quarter when I was a kid.
• Me: Maybe for the first tooth, though?
• Erin: LOL! She brought $2 for the rest.
• Me: I was thinking maybe $2 since it's the first tooth and $1 for the next teeth, but maybe I haven't adjusted for inflation!? 
• Jamie: lol ya $2.00 is good people say $5.00 but i think thats a little high too
• Jade: $.25 I guess we are cheap
• Julie: I gave $5 first tooth &; $1 for the rest. Danielle liked it when it was a fresh crisp bill. I have friends who said they sprinkle glitter on it too! I like that idea!
• Heather: Our tooth fairly deals in odd currency....such as fifty cent peices, gold one dollar coins, ect. Owen loves it! It makes it totally believable because he doesn't normally see those except for from the tooth fairy.
• Me: I like the glitter idea, and Jade, you are not cheap! They don't need all kinds of cash, nor do they need to expect to get paid just for losing teeth. We pay $2 weekly allowance, but ONLY if she cleans her room properly that week. If not, she just forfeits the money. I am struggling with how much to give because I don't want it to be a free-for-all type thing. 
• Me: Oooh! Heather, that is awesome!!
• Me: The only problem is that I don't have odd currency lying around... Gotta plan ahead for these things.
• Heather: I have a baggie full of odd currency. I'm ready for the next 10 teeth...lol. My parents did this for me when I was a kid...that may be the reason I believed for way too long.
• Me: I do have those gold $1 coins they got at church some months back. Would it be bad if I recycled it?
• Heather: No...I'm doing that! 
• Me: I may do that then. If he hasn't caught on then, hopefully Mia won't realize either. I do want it to be fun, just not a huge money grab. 
• Julie #2: $1 for first and 50cents for rest. No reason to blow out of proportion!
• Heather: He forgot about them. I bet she does too. Owen did say something about them at the time he got them. But I told him Rev. Lewis must be pretty good friends with the tooth fairy. He seemed ok with that.
• Me: So, I could do the gold $1 coin tonight (which I have, thankfully!) and then scrounge up some 50 cent pieces to keep on hand.... may have this figure out.
• Me: Thanks everyone! Now, I just have to figure out how to be stealthy...

Stealthy indeed! Who came up with this idea anyway? It is waaaaaaaaaaaay trickier to be the Tooth Fairy than it is to be Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Neither one of those family traditions have ever required me to sneak into the room of my sleeping child and to try to add or remove any items from her pillow! Mia still goes to bed with her lamp on, and one of us goes in and turns it off after she is asleep, at her request, so at least that part is routine. However, I have never been so anxious about disturbing her while doing this. It felt like if I woke her up for this first tooth, we were pretty much out of luck for continuing the tradition, and for some crazy reason this felt like the weight of the entire world upon my shoulders. While tip-toeing into Mia's room, she stirred in her bed, and it felt like my heart lodged in my throat. Silly, I know, but I was really on edge. I swear the only sound in the house was my own heart pounding. After turning out her light, I swept Emma into my hand and hurried into the hallway. (I was relieved that I convinced her not to put Emma underneath her pillow, which is what she originally wanted to do! Can you imagine how much harder that would be? I instantly felt awe for my own parents. How the heck did they do that, removing a tooth, and slipping a quarter into its place? I think it requires the skills of a super secret agent or something.) I un-zipped the pocket, and inserted the gold $1 coin and a folded-up note that I had typed up and formatted to be small enough to look like it came from the Tooth Fairy, but still big enough to read easily. I also added a very small amount of silver glitter. The note read:

May 29, 2013

Dear Mia,

     Congratulations on losing your first tooth! I am

very pleased to see that it is in such beautiful

condition. You obviously take very good care of

your teeth, working hard to keep them shiny

and white. Please keep up to great work by

continuing to brush twice a day!

P.S. Don’t forget to floss!

                                                Your Friend,

                                                The Tooth Fairy

 

I zipped the pouch bag up, again tip-toed into Mia's room, and left the stuffed dog on top of her pillow. Whew! Mission accomplished, and she didn't wake up. The Tooth Fairy myth was safely intact! Go me! And I encouraged her to be a superstar with her oral hygiene, all the better! Feeling extremely relieved and more than a bit proud of myself, I returned downstairs. That's when I realized that I had left the tooth inside the stuffed dog! Brett and I quickly decided that I had to go back to retrieve the tooth. Seriously? I was already on an adrenaline high from the first go-round. I was kind of worried that this would the thing that would push me right over the precipice... Fortunately, I succeeded in my mission, and I think I have rightly earned the title of "ninja fairy!" (In my head, I have dubbed this first super secret mission "Operation Ninja Fairy" so maybe in the future I will come up with more silly names for these after-hours tooth-swapping missions.)

As expected, Mia awoke extra early this morning, positively giddy over the discovery of the special gold coin. Heather was right. She had no recollection of getting 5 of them from church. She thought it was really cool and said, "Wow! I've never seen a coin like this before!" And believe me, I wasn't about to correct her! Not after all of the effort that went into the whole charade. She must really love the little note from the Tooth Fairy because she stuck it on the refrigerator. I waited a bit and then showed her the "fairy dust" on the inside of Emma's pouch. She studied this, and then I feared I had gone too far when she told me, "It looks just like glitter." Uh oh! Luckily, she then added, "But it's really fairy dust," and she was clearly thrilled to see it. So, in the end, we have one very happy little girl who couldn't wait to get to school to share her special news with her teacher. And, yes, I'm one pleased-as-punch "ninja fairy" mama, too.

{The goods -- and a gap-toothed grin!}