What's Grosser Than Gross?

For those of you who have been reading my blog, you may be wondering why so many of my entries center around less than savoury topics.  They may leave you throwing up a little in your mouth and wonder why on earth I would decide to share these stories?  If I wanted my stories to be less "disgusting," I'd have to write about someone else's life. Just when I thought I had shared the worst of my booger, piss, shit, vomit stories, things got grosser.

My goal, as a Stay At Home Mom, is to try and keep my kids occupied.  I don't want them camped out in front of the TV.  I don't want them wreaking too much havoc on the house and destroying things. I don't want Colin to scale the pantry shelves or pour salt on the kitchen table and then lick it up.  In the winter, this can be a great challenge.  Most days we head to the gym because the kids can run around in the daycare and interact with other kids.  They have a ton of toys, a giant tube structure with slides, arts and crafts, computers and a basketball court.  We usually grab a snack on the way out and either head home or run some errands.  Other times we stick around and go swimming in their indoor pool.  Other days we head to the library or another favorite is going to Burger King where they have a playland.

Tuesday was a pretty rainy, dreary day and I knew we really didn't have much going on.  I thought it would be a good day to head to Burger King so they could run around a little more. I invited my friend to join us figuring she might be in the same boat with her two year old.

We manage to eat our lunch outside the play area, knowing full well if we bring our food in their it will never get eaten.  The kids start playing and initially Colin drives his new truck, courtesy of his kid's meal, around the floor.  Eventually he makes his way up into the rest of the structure, which lucky for me he can maneuver pretty well on his own now.  Some of the other kids that are there start to leave and it is now just my kids and my friend's son.  She and I are chatting and I look up to see Colin with something in his hand and it looks like he is starting to put it in his mouth.  Upon closer look, I realize he is drinking out of a rogue chocolate milk that did not belong to him.  I crawl up through the play zone as fast as I can and nearly take all the skin off my back squeezing through one of the openings.  The damage was done.  I can't even begin to imagine how long that milk has been up there. I look at what was left and it isn't sour, so that's a plus.  One of the BK employees laughs and asks where he found it.  He assures me the oldest it could be was from this morning since they clean and sanitize it every night.  Oh, whew!  Chances are it was only about 3 hours old!  GREAT!  Ample time for strep throat organisms to multiply nicely!  That's gross.

Wanna know what's grosser than gross?  Listen to this. 

The next day was a swimming day.  I have to admit, I am not a big fan of taking the kids swimming.  First of all, I don't really like the water.  To quote Martin Short, "I'm not a strong swimmer." I also have to be on high alert the whole time we are there so neither of the kids drowns since Colin is fearless and has been known to just put his head in the water and start doing the doggy paddle towards the deep end.  The amount of work that goes into to getting the kids ready to go swimming for a half hour is downright exhausting.  I usually put Maddie's swim suit on under her clothes when we get ready in the morning, so that is one less step I have to take in getting them ready.  With Colin, I have to put a swim diaper on him.  As I am changing him, he pees on the floor.  I rush to move my running shoes and his swim suit that are in the path. Unfortunately, he manages to get some on his swim suit.  Oh well, that's what chlorine is for, right?  I collect our swim toys which consists of a cup, a bulldozer, a race car and a Mater bath toy.  Each time we go swimming, Colin manages to steal other kids toys.  I started off bringing balls, and he stole some kid's car.  The next time I brought a car, he stole another kids truck.  The next time, he stole a bulldozer, so you get the picture.  While we are swimming, Maddie has to pee and I have to drag the two kids into the bathroom soaking wet for her to go.  Once that is done we have about 10 minutes left to swim before adult swim starts and that was our cue to go home and eat lunch.

Then, there's getting them dressed again after we go swimming.  They are slippery and I have a harder time catching them.  I worry they will fall on the tile near the pool or in the locker room. The locker room has got to be the worst. Every surface is either tile or granite or some sort of split-your-head open-concussion inducing material.  As I am battling to get all our stuff out of the locker, Colin is usually climbing up on a stone bench and running up and down it.  This time, he runs toward the door to the pool, which I now know he can push open.  If I turn my back for a second, he could be doing laps in the lap pool that is only 4 feet from the locker room door. I finally get him to stay in the locker room and he goes for some woman's hair straightener that is plugged in when I move that out of his way, he goes for the open outlet next to it.  I am pretty sure if there is a place that defies all childproofing laws, this is it.

I take the kids into the changing rooms that also have a stone bench and a shower. The door to the changing room has a handle that Colin can easily open, so there is usually a good chance he will fling the door open while I am half naked.  Did I mention it is a family locker room?  They won't allow you to bring opposite sex children in the women's locker room.  When Colin isn't exposing me to the man and his 3 year old daughter standing outside our changing room, he is in the shower trying to lick water off the floor.  Yes, while most people wear flip flops to prevent getting a disease from these very floors, my son is licking them.  I grab him and try to keep him from going in there, but the shower curtain doesn't really provide much assistance. 

On this particular day, I decide to give the kids showers at they gym so I wouldn't have to worry about it when I got home or do it later that night since Tom was out of town and I already would have my hands full at bedtime.  We get in the changing room/shower and I strip the kids down and put them in the shower.  Everything was going smoothly until Colin crouches down and starts to drink the water off the floor again.

Before I could grab him again I notice what quite possibly could be THE most disgusting moments of my life as a mom, actually of my life EVER.  Colin is dropping a deuce on the shower floor.  I immediately grab him, rinse him off and get everyone out of the shower.  Oh...MY....GOD.  I start to panic as I rinse his business down the drain grabbing handfuls of soap from the dispenser on the wall in the shower and throw it down on the floor.  I certainly hope it is antibacterial.  I should have known better.  He has been known to do this at home, but I have the necessary tools to clean up his mess, including a toilet right next to the tub to flush!  I also hoped no one outside the changing room hears me say, "Oh no, Colin!  Did you poo on the floor?"  Then they would know for sure what I was doing in there and I just wanted to die.  You know that awful feeling that despite the fact you just got out of the shower, you are sweating profusely?  That, mixed with the feeling like I might yak.  Luckily I get my whits about me before I have another mess to clean up.

Unfortunately, my diaper bag is in the locker outside the changing room.  With no other option, I grab a towel and try to clean up his back side.  Unfortunately, it wasn't "a clean break."  At this point, I start to realize what risks I take on a daily basis using public showers and public towels at the gym.  Lord knows what other people do with them if this is what I am doing.

I finally get everyone dressed and out of the changing room/shower and quickly rinse the towel off to avoid putting a skid-marked towel in the dirty towel bin.  I'm sure they've seen worse, but I don't want to be "one of those people." I scrub my hands until they practically bleed, dry Maddie's hair as well as my own and pack up our wet suits, wet toys, my sweaty gym clothes and whatever other stuff we usually schlep around with us.  I run out of there so fast, and just want to get home to take another shower.

I guess this is just another thing we do as mothers for the sake of our children.  Despite this experience, I will still take the kids swimming again because they really do enjoy it.  However, I will NEVER again step foot in that locker room without a pair of flip flops and my own towels and I suggest you all do the same.

Nap Nazi

Yes, I am the "Nap Nazi."  Before I start, a disclaimer is necessary.  If you don't believe in naps, or schedules or strict routines, I don't mean to offend.  That is why I use the term "Nazi" to describe myself.  Also, if you find the term "Nazi" offending, I assure you it is merely a term used to describe the strictness of my nap schedules, much like the "Soup Nazi" was about serving soup on Seinfeld; an exaggeration of the excessively strict regimentation he constantly demands of his patrons.

I guess you could also say I am the "Bedtime Nazi" as well, because the same rules apply for putting the kids down at a reasonable time.  I am also a firm believer in making the bedtime process consistent and not carry it out too long. While there are plenty of times I wish I could just have the kids "skip a nap" here and there or "let them stay up late," I know my kids and truth be told, the less they sleep, the less they sleep.

What I mean is, they aren't the type of kids who can catch up on sleep.  If they go to bed late, they will not sleep in the next morning.  In fact, in Maddie's case, she actually wakes up earlier than she normally would when she stays up late.  Missed naps make for a very long day for both the kids and me.  And when we do have screwed up sleep schedules, the after-effects last for a good three days. I also know, that despite how I portray my child in my blog, they are relatively well behaved children and I think this is in large part because they aren't sleep deprived ticking time bombs.  It is worth showing up late to birthday parties, making my mom serve dinner on holidays at certain times to accommodate the kids' nap schedules, leaving get-togethers early and cranking up the music while yelling "WAKE UP" when the kids fall asleep in the car when we are 15 minutes from the house knowing full well that I won't be able to just carry them upstairs and have them fall back to sleep.  Instead, we will pull up on the driveway and they will wake up and that 15 minutes will be the only nap they see all day.

Naptime is precious.  Not only because it allows the kids to be well rested, but it gives me a break.  It is when I get things done whether it be cleaning, getting a quick workout in the garage on the elliptical machine, a cup of tea in peace, a phone conversation without being interrupted, folding laundry without someone unfolding it for me, if I'm lucky a shower and yes, a time when I can take a nap.  Sorry folks, I know you are probably thinking, must be nice to be a Stay At Home Mom and be able to take naps in the afternoon.  Screw you.

I don't mean to be harsh because I know how hard it was when I worked and had to deal with all the things that prevented me from sleeping at night and then have to get up in the morning, get Maddie ready for daycare and head to work.  There were plenty of days where I felt like a Zombie Ad Sales Rep, but I got to drop her off, take a deep breath and then be around adults.  Have adult conversations.  Drink a cup of coffee and talk to people on the phone.

Now, I get up at whatever un-Godly hour of the night to tend to a screaming child and get approximately 3-4 hours of sleep, most of which with a stuffed animal crammed into my back with a foot in my ribcage, and then get up in the morning and there aren't many deep breaths, cups of coffee (at least in peace), adult interaction or phone conversations that don't include 15 interruptions.

My job requires heavy lifting, handling of potentially hazardous material, extreme patience and grace under pressure, negotiating skills, high energy, manual labor, cooking, cleaning, etc. etc. you get the picture.  Enough justifying my afternoon nap, I'm just sayin’...

At night, getting the kids to bed allows me to clean up the toys without them being taken back out, finish the dishes from dinner, fold more laundry, watch something besides Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or Phineas and Ferb and let's face it, drink wine.  I will not even begin to justify my glass of wine when the kids go to bed.

So, imagine my dismay when this structure and schedule-whore is faced with a crib jumping, menace-making son who takes at least an hour and a half to put to bed. 

A few months ago, Colin woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying and then refused to go back to bed.  I finally got him back in his crib and he fell asleep.  However, the next night when I put him to bed, he threw a conniption fit and started to crawl out of the crib.  We got nervous, so we took that mattress out of the crib and set up a little bed for him on the floor.  Once I lay with him for a little bit, he fell asleep and didn't wake up until the morning...in a pile of laundry in the corner of his room. We realized we could still lower the mattress one more notch and he could no longer escape.  Eventually he stopped the crying and carrying on at bedtime and we were back to normal.

Two weeks ago, he awoke in the middle of the night screaming again.  I went in to him and he was in hysterics saying, "Hold Me! Hold Me!"  I tried everything to get him back to sleep and eventually just brought him in to bed with Tom and I.  Now, I know that this is considered a major "No, No" in all the parenting books and I am certainly not a fan of "Family Bed" however, at some point we all need to sleep.  I didn't want him waking Maddie and Tom had to get up to go to work, so I did what I had to do.

We went through the same thing with Maddie at about the same age.  She woke in the middle of the night screaming at the top of her lungs and would get so worked up she would throw up.  So, not only did I have to deal with a screaming kid, I had to clean up puke in the middle of the night.  Oh, and I was pregnant with Colin at the time.  I tried to avoid having her come to bed with us or get in to bed with her even setting up an air mattress on her bedroom floor, but she would just stand in her crib and scream at me.  Once she was out of the crib, I would sometimes get into bed with her until she feel asleep and then sneak off to my room. 

Luckily, she outgrew this stage and it isn't like she climbs into bed with us every night. When she does wake up in the middle of the night, I can go in there, find her stuffed animal she sleeps with and tell her to go back to sleep without her freaking out like she used to.  Unlike Colin, she never tried to climb out of her crib or even her bed with a guardrail.  She always calls for me to come get her.  In fact, we took the guardrail off this week to give to Colin and she STILL won't get out without someone coming to get her.  It's good, but she refuses to get out of bed in the middle of the night if she has to go potty too, which means she still has to wear a Pull Up to bed despite the fact she's been potty trained for a year and a half.

And now we have Colin.  The first night he officially climbed out of the crib by himself, I was reading to Maddie and putting her to bed and I heard his doorknob jiggle and next thing you know he was in Maddie's room listening to me read "Snow White" to her.  I'm not sure how he did it, but my guess was it wasn't real gracefully since he had a nice red strawberry on the side of his face.  We immediately removed the front off his crib and turned it in to a toddler bed.  He chose to make his way downstairs and curl up on the couch and watch "Diner's Drive Inn's and Dives" and when I told him to come back upstairs to see his new bed, he simply said, "No." Clearly he wasn't really excited about his new pseudo big boy bed, but at least he wouldn't break his neck if he tried to climb out.

He really seemed to like Maddie's bed, so I figured it might just be better to graduate him to a real "big boy bed." Luckily, we had a twin bed ready and waiting and the next night we set it up and put Maddie's guard rail on it.  He enjoyed jumping on it before we put the sheets on, but once actual bedtime rolled around, he was pissed and kept saying, "NO."  We put him to bed and put a gate up at the door, which he proceeded to climb over, screaming and crying the whole time.  I finally got Maddie to sleep and then shepherded him back to his room.  I sat on the floor next to his bed until he fell asleep. 

At one point when I was putting the kids down for a nap I catered the idea of having them nap in the same bed since they seemed to do pretty well on our trip to Arizona when they napped together.  Not so much.  They wrestled each other in his bed and I finally convinced Maddie to return to her room to her own bed for her nap.  I had to bribe her with ice cream, but eventually she gave in.

I also realized that having them sleep together might not be a good idea, because again, they would never learn to go to bed on their own and all I could think of was my Aunt Virge and Uncle Tom.  They were my Great Aunt and Uncle who confused me as a child because all of my other Aunts and Uncles who lived together were married, but these two were brother and sister.  Long story, but all I knew was co-dependence was a long-term risk for a short-term solution. 

I continued to sit in his room until he would fall asleep.  I would watch his every move to see when he would start doing the "involuntary twitch" and then try to sneak over the gate.  I learned two things.  1) There is a squeaky floorboard right at the threshold of his bedroom. 2) I am not very graceful when it comes to gate hopping.  I almost always woke him up as I was exiting.

After several nights of this process, I realized that it was taking longer and longer for him to fall asleep.  I knew if I continued to sit in his room while he fell asleep, he would never learn to go to bed on his own.  I was to the point where the only way I could cope with putting him to bed another night was to just bring a glass of wine with me at sit at the end of the bed.   I realized that a little "tough love" was necessary and he would just have to cry it out.  We were lucky that we never really had to do this when they were infants because they went to sleep without a peep.  At least when they are infants, they can't get out of the crib. One of the nights we were battling Colin to get to sleep Tom said we should have put something heavy in his crib. I wasn't sure what he meant and he explained putting a cover on the crib. I explained that crating our child probably wasn't appropriate. Since crating him wasn't an option, I was forced to go get doorknob covers so he couldn't open his bedroom door.  I read him is books, said prayers and sang him a song and then "night-night."  He screamed bloody murder the whole time I put Maddie to bed, but by the time she was telling me her favorite part of the day, he had stopped banging his head on the door and was quiet.  I looked on the video monitor and could see that he had made his way in to his bed and was fast asleep.  Success.

It has been almost a week and the while the last several nights he has cried (and so have I) when he goes to bed, each night he cries less.  The last two nights he didn't wake up in the middle of the night crying for me.  All in all, I would say the situation is improving.  I wasn't sure if bribing him like I bribe Maddie would work, but he spotted this Matchbox Car carry case shaped like a tire at Target the other day and I told him if he slept in his big boy bed like he was supposed to, I would get it for him.  I took him to the store on Sunday and rewarded him with his "Wheel" as he calls it. 

As for Maddie, I still think she is more excited about Colin's new sleeping arrangement than he is and claims his bed is better than hers.  She did help me put him to bed one night by waving her magic wand on him in hopes he would go to bed without crying and would sleep through the night.  She asked me if I cried when I went to sleep.  "No Maddie, I sleep when I go to sleep.  I only cry when I don't get enough sleep."  She also informed me one day that some snakes and lizards sleep during the day and are awake at night.  I told her that is called "Nocturnal" and asked if she knew any other animals that were awake during the night.  Her response?  "Colin." 

I think it is relatively safe to say we have survived yet another parenting milestone and can look back on this experience and laugh like so many other events.  Well, gotta run.  The kids just woke up from their naps.

No Place Like Home

I just go back from a trip to Phoenix, AZ where I traveled alone with the kids to visit family.  Talk about fodder for a blog about being a mom...yikes.

We started off last Thursday morning.  We had to leave the house by 7 a.m.  We had to drive to my mom's, who lives near the airport, and have her drive us in the minivan to the airport and then park the van at her place for the next 6 days.  This way, Tom could take the train to my mom's house, which is walking distance from the train station and then pick us up with the minivan when we returned.  Why the elaborate "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" scenario?  Well, let me break it down:

1) Taking a limo 40 miles is expensive, assuming you can find one that provides car seats, which they charge extra for.

2) The same goes for a cab.

3) Parking at the airport is frickin' expensive, unless you do remote parking and schlepping two kids on the monorail from remote parking would add just one extra step to an already potentially exhausting day of schlepping.

OK, leg one complete.  We pull up, put kids in Sit-and-Stand stroller, and get our luggage checked.  Miraculously, we only needed one suitcase and it came in under the 50 lb. limit...but just barely weighing in at 47.5 lbs.

With one less heavy item to lug, we make our way to security.  This is one of the most challenging aspects of traveling alone.  Luckily, I had already done this once before.  On our trip to Disney World in the September, I had taken the kids through security by myself while Tom parked the car in remote parking and met us at the gate.

So, here's what has to happen.  Step one; remove carry-on bag from the stroller handle that happens to weigh more then Colin.  How do I know this?  I learned the hard way when I put it on the stroller before putting Colin in and it tipped the stroller.  Then remove every one's shoes, jackets, laptop, cell phone and put in appropriate bins.  The last thing I do is remove Colin from the stroller to avoid having him run off.  Luckily friendly stranger number one has already stepped in and asked how he could help.  I took advantage of this and asked the man behind us to simply hold his hand and make sure he didn't run off.  From there I folded up the Sit-and-Stand and put it on the conveyor belt to be scanned along with a Princess wheelie backpack, my purse, the 35+ lb. carry-on and 3 bins full of miscellaneous shoes, jackets and electronic devices.  They even had to scan "Bubba," which caused a slight temper tantrum.  All the TSA workers and surrounding travelers stood at the other end of the X-Ray machine waiting for it to give birth to "Bubba" and we all cheered as he was reunited with Colin.

On to the gate.  Luckily we didn't have far to go and we got there with plenty of time to spare.  Next priority is to get Colin some breakfast and coffee for me. I had already given him a cereal bar and banana en route to the gate, but an oatmeal cookie rounded out the meal nicely and Maddie scored a chocolate chip cookie too.

It turns out that despite the fact I picked our seats out when I booked our flight online, our tickets show that Maddie is sitting in the back of the plane while Colin and I are in row 6.  The same thing happened the last time we flew.  I went to the ticket counter and they said the flight was full and there wasn't much they could do.  So, for those of you without children who have ever been approached by a frantic mother on a flight to switch seats, have a heart and switch with her.  She may look like a crazed lunatic who is far too frazzled to be organized and book her seats properly, but I can assure, it is likely the airline's fault.  OK, said my peace.  Luckily they were able to seat us together...in the last row.

I let Colin out of the stroller to run around the gate for a while, knowing he would be strapped down for the next 4 hours on the plane.  He drove his cars around on the ground, watched the planes and crawled under the seats where he managed to find a peanut M&M, which he promptly put into his mouth.  I was able to sweep it out, but pretty sure the damage was already done.  Then he made sure he licked the window just to make sure he got his daily allowance of germs.

OK, time to board the plane.  Everyone and everything is loaded on my semi-tractor trailer (AKA the stroller) and we head to the plane.  We get to the end of the Jetway where I have to unload the kids and stuff one more time.  Two women behind me offer to help.  They were both moms, so they understood what I needed. I tell the best thing they can do is make sure Colin doesn't run off while I fold up the stroller and gather our stuff.  The one learned very quickly why I asked this of her as Colin started to run towards the plane ahead of me.  She looked at me seeking my permission to touch him and I just said, "Go ahead and GRAB HIM!" She smiled and managed to get a hold of him before Colin could fly us to China.

We board the plane and as we walk down the aisle all the way to the back and Colin tests out every seat along the way and almost ends up in the lap of a guy in First Class to get a peek out the window.  I tell Colin we didn't pay for First Class and have to head the cheap seats.

We get settled in our seats and I begin by apologizing to the man who is fortunate to be sharing our row.  He assures me it will be fine and promptly puts his iPod earbuds in.

We haven't even left the gate and Maddie asks if we are flying yet.  She asks this approximately 15 more times before we actually take off.  Finally we are in the air and I can turn on the sacred portable DVD player.  Colin is not 2 yet, so I don't have to buy him a ticket, but that means he gets to sit on my lap for the next 4 hours.  After a few alligator rolls on my lap, I situate him between Maddie and I and they watch their movies.  The other key to having them behave is to continuously feed them.  They dined on cereal bars, Goldfish, fruit strips, pretzels, suckers, M&Ms and Colin ate half of my sandwich.  After a major carb load and nowhere to burn it off, they settled into a nice food coma and they didn't make a peep for the rest of the flight.

I kept thinking Colin had a dirty diaper, but realized it was just the smell coming from restrooms we were practically sitting in. I did have to maneuver the bathroom with both kids at one point to change Colin and make sure Maddie went potty too.  I wish I had a video of that because I still can't believe I was able to change him, have Maddie go and then go myself and wash our hands without someone getting sucked into the "Wild Blue Water."  I did have to send Maddie out of the bathroom before us so I could flush since she is afraid of loud noises.

After asking 347 times "Are we there yet?" we finally landed and now it was time to get off the plane.  We waited 15 minutes to exit and then it was time to get the stroller, load it up and head for baggage claim to get our suitcase.  I promptly went to the gift shop and bought Maddie a stuffed animal and Colin a toy plane for being so good on the plane.

From there we had to get on a shuttle bus to go to the rental car depot located 2 miles from the actual airport.  Again, I had extremely nice people assist me in getting Colin out of the stroller once again, loading the luggage and said stroller and make sure Colin didn't run away.

A woman on the bus was traveling with her husband and two young children and essentially told me I was crazy.  Oh well. What doesn't kill ya makes you stronger, right?  Unfortunately, my trip was only beginning and there was still a good chance it would kill me.  Right before we got off the shuttle I found a penny, heads side up, and had Maddie pick it up.  There may be hope after all.

We get to the car rental depot and just for effect, will mention that I had to unload the kids and all of our luggage and stroller and load everyone and everything in it and on it while dragging my 47.5 lb. suitcase.  The Hertz counter has a line a mile long and Colin has now fallen asleep in the stroller.  Suddenly a Hertz employee approaches me and asks if I am traveling alone.  After I tell her I am, she leads me to the elevator downstairs, takes my credit card and driver's license and goes ahead of another line of about 10 people and checks me in immediately.  Afterwards she hands me my paperwork and points to the brand new Camry with both car seats sitting next to the car that is only steps away from where I am standing.  I was expecting to have hoist two car seats off of a giant rack and then schlep them 14 rows to get to my car like we had to do in Orlando.  Lucky penny?  Travel Gods looking down on me?  Whatever the case may be, I almost cried and hugged this woman.  Once I installed the car seats, we were on our way.  We arrived at my brother's house 25 minutes later. 

At this point, I had been traveling since 7 a.m. and it was now 3:20 p.m. Mountain time.  I've been traveling for over 9 hours.

I have to admit; I had a little bit of anxiety about how the kids would adjust to being off schedule for the next 6 days.  I am somewhat addicted to routine and having the kids veer from their normal sleeping and eating schedules gave me the hives.  The first day, both kids napped for no more than a half hour and since we were all sleeping in the same bed, and Colin normally sleeps in a crib, the first night of sleep was "interesting."  We survived, but were slightly sleep deprived in the morning.  Between lack of naps and a poor night sleep, it took several days for the kids to adjust.  Luckily they still fared pretty well and Colin only got thrown out of the gym daycare once for being super crabby, out-of-sorts and hitting other kids.  (Yes, I was fortunate enough to find a Lifetime Fitness in the town my brother lives in and yes, I did workout while I was on vacation.)

After 6 days of hanging with family and soaking up some sun and enjoying 78-degree temperatures, it was time to head home.  I started to get anxious the night before as I began to pack.  Collecting all of the "paraphernalia" including baby monitors, stuffed animals, shoes, blankets along with the idea of setting out to do the whole trip home was enough to give me a panic attack.  I am shocked I actually slept that night, but I think I was so tired from worrying I managed a respectable 6.5 hours of sleep.

As I was packing, I realized that I forgot to bring something very important on this trip, my Ruby Slippers.  All I wanted to do at this point was click my heals three times and say, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home." 

I collected all of our belongings and headed off to the airport at 7 a.m. and ended up hitting traffic due to an accident on the freeway.  I was stressed to the max knowing that once I got to the airport, I would have to go through the whole rental car return followed by a 2 mile shuttle ride before I could even check in.  Luckily nice stranger number 6 stepped in. He said he had 3 kids and simply asked, "What do you need me to do to help you."  I put him in charge of making sure Colin didn't run in front of a bus.  He simply said, "Alright, guys let's go!"  When I got on the bus he had Colin on his lap and Maddie sitting quietly next to him like he was long lost Uncle Joe.

By the time we got to the ticket counter, I only had 1 hour and 10 minutes before my flight left.  With 25 people in line at the ticket counter and my inability to weave throughout the serpentine line with my Mac Truck of a stroller, 47.5 lb. suitcase, princess backpack, purse etc., I sought out a U.S. Airways worker.  She looked at me like I had 7 heads, but sent me to a line with two people in it.  Unfortunately for me, one of those people was moving to Poland with her 18 month old daughter and was checking 3 gigantic bags, a car seat, stroller and had also failed to realize that despite she was a lap child, she had to pay 10% of the ticket for an International flight.  The other person in front of me was paying to check his bags in Pesos.

At this point, I had 9 minutes to check in and I frantically looked around for someone to help me.  I saw a U.S. Airways employee directing people in the regular line that had I weaved through, I would already be checked in.  I told the man my situation and said I didn't realize I had been put in the International line.  He gave me a dirty look and said, "You weren't put in the International line. You were put in that line because you have too much CRAP."  The only response I could manage was, "I have two kids. What do you want me to do?"  From there I burst into tears.  The man snatched my credit card and driver's license from me and went to the computer.  I grabbed my stuff and tearfully made my way to the counter.  I managed to call the guy an asshole to the nun in line behind me.  Oops.  Although I am pretty sure she would agree.  Maddie saw me crying and then she started crying and wanted to know what was wrong.  At this point Mr. Asshole didn't know what to say especially after his coworker explained why the line was moving so slowly and that most of the "crap" he assumed was mine, actually belonged to the woman in front of me going to Poland.  A couple who was also traveling with a young child stopped me and said they heard what the guy had said to me and filed a complaint for me.  I got my tickets and my belongings and trucked off to security. 

Shoes off.  Stroller unloaded and folded.  Nice women behind me helped control Colin.  Sippy cups tested for potentially lethal skim milk and we made it through security.  We got to the gate with just enough time to hit the potty and grab some food for the plane ride.  We started down the Jetway and were greeted by a flight attendant.  She asked if I was "Mrs. Stein."  At that point I chose not to correct her and just said "yes."  She said she had heard we had a hard time checking in.  I was waiting for her to upgrade us to First Class, but all she could offer were stupid stories about her four boys and how poorly they behaved.  Little did she know my kids misbehaving was not an issue, it was the Asshole at the ticket counter who misbehaved. 

The only thing they did was let the kids in the cockpit to meet the pilot and Colin promptly pushed every button he could.  They told me to get my camera and take a picture of him sitting in the captain' seat.  Really?  You expect me to dig through my bags right now and find my camera for this photo op?  I managed to find my phone and got a picture.  After 10 annoyed people behind me made their way around my stuff to get to their seat, I just wanted to sit down.  We made our way to the LAST row.  I could tell all the people watching us board were hoping and praying we weren't sitting next to them.

We finally sat down, took off and I happily turned on a movie for the kids.  Colin fell asleep and I read my People magazine.  Three-in-a-half short hours later we landed and I was never so relieved to see my minivan pull up outside.  More importantly, I have never been so relieved to see my husband. 

So, we survived.  All I can say is thank God for portable DVD players, M&Ms and the kindness of strangers, especially one's with kids who didn't hesitate to lend a hand.  I wish I could say the same for the U.S Airways employees who will prevent me from ever flying their airline again. 



Chunks

I had a hard time deciding if I should title this blog "Chunks,"  "Barf-o-Rama "or "Birth Control."  I figured most of my blogs could be titled "Birth Control," so I went with "Chunks."

Yes, a stomach virus has hit our home and as of right now, Colin is the only victim.  I am just waiting for one of us to be next.

I already know I jinxed myself because last week I told my brother, who lives in Arizona, that this Winter hasn't been "that bad."  I continued by saying that we've had snow, but nothing that major.  Of course now we are under a Winter Storm Warning/Watch/Advisory, whatever you want to call it.  All I know is we are in for at least a foot of snow if not more.

The next day, I was talking to a friend of mine who said she had a really bad flu bug or virus and it was so bad she was hospitalized.  I said how we have been relatively fortunate that we have had mainly colds and no "puking" incidents.  Jinxed.

Day 1

It was Sunday night and I was catching up on my "Jersey Shore" and relaxing.  I started to think about the coming week and that I needed to get a bunch of stuff accomplished before the storm hit on Tuesday, including grocery shopping.  I also wanted to go to the gym and then take the kids swimming at the health club since we'd likely be cooped up the latter part of the week.  I also was thinking that Tuesday morning would be a good day for us to meet up with my friend and her son at Monkey Joe's for the same reason.

Next thing ya know, I hear choking and gagging coming from Colin's room.  I walk in to find him lying in a pool of "chunks."  Let's just say we won't be having Johnsonville Cheddarwurst for a VERY, VERY, VERY long time.  Great.  What could have caused this?  Did he eat something bad?  Find a stray sippy cup hiding in the cushions of the couch with sour milk?  He got a flu shot.  Could it be from licking the window at Maddie's dance class last week?  The possibilities are endless when you have a kid who, as I've mentioned, has also been known to play in the toilet.

I grabbed him and threw him in the tub where I stripped him down and scrubbed the vomit out of his crew cut.  Poor baby was gray and shivering.  I got him into a fresh pair of feetsie jammies ASAP and handed him off to Tom while I stripped the crib and worked to de-chunk his sheets.  His sacred "Bubbas" were soiled, but the official "Lion Bubba" was clean enough after a quick wipe down to comfort him in his time of need.

I finally got things cleaned up, sprayed some Lysol and hopped into bed with a stack of towels.  I knew we were in for a long night.  Luckily he fell asleep in our bed and only got up 2 times to throw up.  Both times I played good defense with the towels and avoided having major clean up in our bed as well.

Day 2

Morning came and he woke up in a good mood. We got a lot more sleep than I had thought we would.  He started playing and seemed hungry.  I started to feed him breakfast.  He ended up eating some banana and some Cheerios.   I ran upstairs to rip the sheets off of our bed, because while I was pretty successful with the towels, I was pretty sure there were some stray chunks somewhere.

As I finished pulling the last pillow case off I could the dreaded gag, choke, cough followed by liquid hit the floor...twice.  I ran down the stairs to find Colin standing in the foyer.  Oh thank GOD...most of it was on the Linoleum and only a little on the carpet.  Bubbas did not fair so well this time.  I grabbed the towels from the night before, a new batch of towels and the Bubbas to throw in the wash.  I think I was officially on my 3rd load of laundry that day and it was only 8:00 a.m.

I went back upstairs to get my sheets and Colin followed me.  I got him dressed and then threw my bedding down the stairs.  Colin got tangled up in the sheets and ended up tumbling down the stairs.  Great.  Now he's going to end up with a concussion and I won't know it because he is already throwing up.

Luckily the pile of blankets and sheets broke his fall and after a few tears, he was fine.  So fine, he managed to write on the kitchen chair with a pen and then crawl on the kitchen table to draw on his sister's picture. I finished disinfecting the foyer and cleaned the part of the carpet that got hit and set off to try and go to the grocery store.  I wanted to avoid giving Colin anything else to eat so I could get through the shopping trip.  Unfortunately, I walked in the kitchen and he had helped himself to some graham crackers from the pantry.  Thankfully those seemed pretty benign and crossed my fingers.  Meanwhile, Taz was barking at the back door and I asked Maddie to let him in for me.  I didn't realize until he traipsed around the entire house, that he was full of mud and snow.  I pushed the 4 laundry baskets out of the way and started to Swiffer the floor.

I talked to Tom who tried to discourage me from going promising he would take the 4:45 train so I could go later.  His intentions were good, but that would still get him home after 6 pm and with dinner and the potential for more clean up, that just didn't do me much good.  Did I mention our snow blower was broken and Tom needed to fix it before we got 50 feet of snow?

The shopping trip went OK, except he kept asking for his Bubba and crying the whole time.  I headed to the baby section and tried to find a replacement.  I figured it would be a good investment to have an spare since I had already washed his other ones 3 times in the last 24 hours. I also got some Pedialite hoping that if nothing else we could avoid a trip to the ER due to dehydration.  My question is, why can't they make flavored Pedialite without color?  The last thing I want to do is clean up orange or purple puke and I know they make the clear, but it has no flavor...but  I digress.

I ended up running into a friend of the family who must have known by the dark circles under my eyes, no make-up, hair in a messy bun, kid screaming and look of sheer exhaustion that I was having "one of those days."  My response, "you have know idea."  Of course, lucky for me, she did...she has three kids.

I also made sure I had ample supply of Clorox Bleach Spray, Antibacterial Swiffer solution and diapers in case things started coming out of both ends. Of course, the lines were a mile long because everyone else was trying to stock up before the storm and I just prayed he didn't blow chunks all over before we could get out of the store.  I was stocked up and survived without any major eruptions.

We got home and as I started to unload the groceries Madelyn realized that I didn't buy her a "Bubba" like Colin's.  She was too distracted by Skittles in the checkout line to notice I had put the stuffed bear aside to avoid paying an extra $15 bucks.  She started melting down and I tried to explain that he got one because he is sick and needed an extra one because he kept puking on his other ones.  She proceeded to try and make herself throw up so they would be on level playing ground in order to receive gifts.  Ugh.  I finally bribed her with 4 points which meant she gets to pick out a toy. (We were working on earning ten points if she listened.  She already had 6.)  I also gave her a bunch of Skittles.  Problem solved.

I was able to get some Pedialite and some crackers in him. I was afraid if I gave him much more he wouldn't be able to keep it down.  Unfortunately, he was hungry and kept going in the pantry to grab snacks.  I let him have some Goldfish Crackers to appease him and that seemed to do the trick.  He was able to get a good nap, but as soon as he woke up he got that look in his eyes and before I knew it, the Goldfish were swimming in a pool of Pedialite on the foyer floor.  (Yes, I grabbed him off the couch and brought him over to our new favorite puke spot).

No more puking that night.  Once the kids went down to bed I was able to fold the 13 loads of laundry I had done throughout the day.  I looked down at my hands between the excessive hand washing and Clorox wipes, I looked like I lost a match of bloody knuckles.  I was worried I would bleed all over the whites.  I also caught a whiff of puke and realized that despite rinsing and then washing the jammies he'd been wearing the night before, they still wreaked.

Day 3

Next day, we still couldn't go anywhere since he hadn't been puke free for 24 hours yet.  The snow started to come down and by 3 pm, we couldn't go anywhere even if we wanted to.  Tom got home early and I made dinner.  All was good.  Nice dinner, no one seemed to be sick, Tom wasn't going to work tomorrow and we were well stocked with wine to celebrate Blizzard 2011 once the kids went to bed.  Then began the negotiation for Maddie to finish her dinner.  At this point all she had eaten was one bite of chicken, a bite of rice, two carrots and some grapes. Despite this, she requested dessert.  I stood my ground and said no, unless she ate more.  She refused and Tom sat there coaching her through 3 more bites of chicken and a bite of rice.  She refused, but continued to cry scream and ask for dessert.  She arrived back at the table to eat enough to earn her dessert, but was so worked up at that point, she threw up all over the kitchen table and her remaining dinner.

I took a deep breath and began cleaning up the chunks. The rest of the night, all I could smell was the lingering aroma of puke despite changing clothes.  I also realized that Colin's head still smelled like a combination of Cheddarwurst and stomach acid even thought I had given him two baths.  Also, my guess that things would start happening on the other end was correct.  Despite a reprieve from chunkage, I had several blowouts to change.

I touched base with my friend who we were supposed to go to Monkey Joe's with and told her we needed to reschedule for next week.  She commented on how she was dreading the day she would have to deal with throw up since her 2 year old has yet to have a bought with a stomach virus and at least I was "good with puke."  Hmm.  Maybe I could put that on my resume in the future? I'm not sure what kind of job that qualifies me for, but my friend assured me she'd hire me.

Day 4

I woke up to 5 foot snow drifts in my yard and the cabin fever was really starting to set in.  At least the kids seemed healthy today.  It took Tom about 2 hours to plow our driveway (yes, the snow blower was fixed in time).  I brought the kids out to play in the snow, but Colin looked like he was ready to curl up in a ball and take a nap on the laundry room floor while I was putting his snow pants on.  We went outside for a total of 5 minutes before Colin fell in the snow and instead of getting up, just laid in the snow.  My attempt to socialize with neighbors and soak up some sunlight was foiled.

I started preparing beef stew for the crock pot.  I warmed up the garage, put the kids down for naps and hopped on the elliptical machine for about an hour.  It was the closest thing I could get to "escaping."  Then I came inside and Maddie woke up from her nap and we baked chocolate chip cookies.  She was off to watch the 15th Disney movie this week and I baked some Beer Bread.  Wondered if anyone would notice if I just drank a beer at 3 pm?  Never mind, it would just make me tired.

I thought we were out of the woods until I heard Colin in the middle of the night.  It was faint, but I knew exactly what it was...more chunks.  Tom later asked how I even heard him.  I told him that only a mother could wake up out of a sound sleep even from the most stealth vomiting.  I got up, got him cleaned up, handed him off to Tom and stripped the sheets. The first night he was so miserable he just curled up and fell asleep and only got up to puke. This time he was all over the place.  We weren't as sympathetic this time and he only lasted about 10 minutes in our bed before I just put him back down in his crib. 

Day 5

I had to get out of the house.  Come hell or high snow drifts.  I was going crazy.  Plus, I was running out of wine, bananas and milk.  The three staples I cannot live without.  Luckily Tom stayed home from work an extra day and I went to the gym and Target.  I also needed to buy supplies to make Gumbo, thanks to Disney movie #12 over the last few days, "Princess and the Frog" set in New Orleans. You would have thought I won a trip to Hawaii.  I was so happy.  I even got a nap in the afternoon and we went out to dinner.  It was nice not to feel like a shut-in.

We are now 36 hours puke free and I am hoping things get back to normal **knock on wood**  Wouldn't want to jinx myself again..  Here's the upshot, none of the rest of us got it **knock on wood** (unless you count drama induced puking) and I learned to make a pretty mean gumbo.

Chef Boy R Me

Perhaps one of the most stressful aspects of being a parent, at least at this point, involves what the kids eat, don't eat and what I feed them.

I always had these ideas that I would be the parent to make sure my kids had a healthy diet.  I wouldn't feed them junk food, would only have fast food on a rare and special occasion and even attempted to make my own baby food at the beginning.

All sounds good in theory, until they are actually alive and present and you realize what a daunting process the simple task of feeding your family really is.  Also nice to think that your kids won't know what a Happy Meal is until you find yourself having to squeeze a doctor's appointment, grocery shopping, a trip to the dry cleaners, pick up a prescription at Walgreen's and eat lunch all before nap time.  It is then you realize life would be so much easier if you just went to McDonald's and didn't have to worry about making lunch when you got home especially when you have to unload all the groceries and put them away.  Then you see the sheer joy on your child's face as they dip their fries in that special McDonald's ketchup and their eyes light up like Christmas morn when they get their toy.  And you know full well "they" (meaning the Marketing Department at McDonald's) has you hook, line and sinker.

From the day they were born, I was concerned with how many ounces they took in, were they going to spit it up, whether they had reflux, gas or constipation.  I had to make sure I ate enough to produce enough milk and then I had to make sure that I ate healthfully, yet avoid foods that could affect their tummies. I had to continue to take prenatal vitamins and DHA to ensure proper brain development.  Then, I had to give them vitamin D supplements, since apparently I wasn't providing enough through breast milk.  I think I covered the additional trials and tribulations of this phase in my prior post "BOOBIES!"

We transitioned well into the whole cereal, fruits, veggies and oatmeal phase.  Like I said, I tried to be "au natural" and make my own baby food a food mill.  No matter how hard I tried, I could never get the right consistency. I decided either I would keep nursing or make my own food, but not both.  I did opt for Organic baby food, but even that was lost on poor Colin. It was easier to pay double for baby food when I was still working, but I couldn't really justify it once I was without an income.  

It goes without saying; Maddie is my "picky eater." Introducing solids to both kids came with a lot of gagging, spitting up and puking.  Colin got over this pretty quickly once he realized how much he loved food and wouldn't dare throw it up.  Maddie, on the other hand, completely skipped over the "Stage 3" foods that had little bits or chunks of veggies, pasta or meat. She lived on slices of American cheese and Puffs for awhile and I was lucky she continued to eat baby food until well after her first birthday. I would also have to put the food on her tray in "shifts" starting with the healthiest foods first and then working my way up to the foods with less nutritional value.

She can essentially look at a food item and decide in advance whether or not she will try it. The kid will not eat peanut butter and jelly or any "sandwich" of any kind except grilled cheese.  No hot dogs, lunch meat, pudding, yogurt, Jell-o, bananas, cooked carrots, she refuses to put milk in her cereal, no Spaghetti-o's or Chef Boy R D product of any kind (a blessing in disguise, if you as me). Pasta sauce is only acceptable on pizza.  Makes packing a picnic lunch, well, anything but a picnic. 

Her daily diet rarely ever veers off course.  Breakfast is waffles or pancakes and eggs with cheese on them.  I take some extra time making breakfast, because it is one of the meals she actually eats.  Lunch is usually "long noodles" (aka, spaghetti with butter, Parmesan cheese and little garlic salt), Mickey Mouse Chicken Nuggets or soup along with a fruit or vegetable. Dinner, of all things, is Tortilla Encrusted Tilapia from Costco 65% of the time.  Thankfully she will also eat pork chops, steak and grilled chicken as long as it is well seasoned and I do a great deal of convincing, bribing and negotiating. She will eat raw carrots, corn, but only on the cob, cooked green beans and another oddity, edamame.  Fruit is much easier, like strawberries, apples, grapes, pineapple, etc. She does, however consider salt a major food group.  She insists on watching me put it on her eggs, on her edamame and likes that disgusting butter salt for popcorn.  If I tell her I already put it on, she doesn't believe me.  She needs to see the crystals on her food.  This kid is going to have high blood pressure at the age of 4.

Looking at this list of things she does eat, I realize she has come a long way, but just when I think I've made something she likes, the next time she turns her nose up at it. Or, there are "old standbys" like grilled cheese and her Tilapia, which she eats to the point where she gets sick of them and the novelty wears off.  Kind of like working in an ice cream shop and getting to the point where the thought of eating ice cream makes you ill.

I got my hand slapped by my pediatrician when I went for her 2-year check up.  He told me the two biggest No-No's in feeding a toddler are 1) Do not make them something different than what the rest of the family is eating and 2) Do not try to feed them something else if they refuse what you made for dinner.

Guilty and Guilty.

I did stop trying to force a Kashi Cereal Bar on her before bedtime if she didn't eat dinner like I used to.  I always feared she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because she was starving.  Turns out she would wake up screaming for a variety of other reasons, but never starvation.  I still make the kids a variation of what we are eating.  I know full well my daughter will not eat Shepherd's Pie, a Turkey Burger, Lasagna, Enchiladas, Stuffed Chicken, a Pulled Pork Sandwich or any variety of other things I make on a regular basis.  Even when I have tried to force her eat them she either refuses or gags on them and spits it out.  I honestly cannot deny her a meal when I know there are things that she will eat if I just make them.  So, give me a parenting demerit, but I will be a short order cook if it means my kid eats.

Colin is definitely easier and he usually gets whatever we are eating and then some!  It is amazing how much less stressful it is to feed him.  Mealtime is much more Zen, until he takes the leftover food and starts flinging it.  Luckily, there usually isn't much to spare.  The rest of the time I spend negotiating with Maddie with "3 more bites of meat and 3 more beans."

I bought all the books like Jessica Seinfeld's "Deceptively Delicious" and "365 Foods Kids Love" that have recipes where you puree veggies and fruit and hide them in food.  Even those foods are not things Maddie would eat even if she couldn't detect the healthiness. I don't know who these ladies are trying to kid, but  foods like Green Eggs, Oatmeal, Avocado Spread, Meatballs of any kind and Beef Stew, would not fly with my texture-sensitive child.  Besides, my days of "pureed food" are over and while it seems so simple just to put healthy fruits and veggies in a blender or food processor, I find it to be more work than I can handle.  Don't get me wrong, I love to cook, but not with the kind of food they give patients at a nursing home.

And to add insult to injury, I have a husband who is probably just as picky, if not more-so than my kids.  He doesn't like to veer from the norm and about the only vegetables I can get him to eat are green beans, edamame and corn.  Sound familiar?  He doesn't like onions, so most recipes are out of the question.  He still doesn't understand why they are essential in making pasta sauce.  I try hard to mix things up and try new things. I also try to make healthy food, and limit the amount of processed food I serve.  I even went so far as to buy "Eat Clean Diet" cookbooks.  Most of the food was fairly straightforward and is food I would eat, but serving to my family was a whole other thing.

I try as hard as I can to make meals as healthy as possible and buy healthy snacks, or at least things that aren't "so bad."  I say that because I know most snacks that are touted as "healthy" are really just crap repackaged. I don't ever buy regular chips.  I opt for Baked Chips, Veggie Straws, Pretzels and Light Popcorn.  Even our Goldfish are Whole Grain, for what it's worth. I use Fiber One Pancake Mix so they get extra fiber and get the Nutrigrain Eggo Waffles.  They barely drink juice and if they do it is reduced sugar. They are good at drinking milk and the rest of the time they drink water. They are only allowed to have pink lemonade on very rare occasions.  I always use 100% whole wheat bread, tortillas and pasta.  I use 2% Cheese and Promise Light instead of Butter.  I don't worry about Organic, because like the baby food, it ends up costing just too damn much, especially when you have a son who eats you out of house and home and you find half-full sippy cups of milk laying between couch cushions that have been out several hours.  I refuse to dump milk down the drain that costs $6.50 a gallon.

The other day we were at the gym and we got a snack in the Cafe. Maddie was busy eating her pretzels and Colin was eating an apple and was sharing my protein shake with me. I looked over and saw Maddie pouring the salt from the bottom of the bag into her mouth.  Hand hit my forehead. Now I am worried that one kid will be healthy while the other will either starve or become a future contestant on Biggest Loser because she lives on Chicken Strips, French Fries and pizza.  I know, that is horrible to think, but as someone who is very health conscious and does everything in her power to eat healthy, (except when it comes to my sweet tooth) I feel guilty every time we go out to eat and I order them chicken strips and fries and watch them pull the chicken directly out of a boiling vat of oil, plop them on an equally greasy pile of fries and bring them to the table for my kids to consume.  Then, have them dunk everything in ketchup and ranch.  I really think these two condiments should be added to the food pyramid.  Unfortunately, for my kids, it should be that long thick band on the bottom rather than a little point at the top.  But ketchup is made out of tomatoes so it is a vegetable, right.  Or is it a fruit?  Either way, I am pretty sure corn syrup is neither a fruit nor vegetable.

Most of this is my own issue.  For most of you that know me, I am your typical "Sally-On-The-Side" when it comes to ordering at restaurants.  Tom always says the kiss of death when we go to restaurants is when I utter the word "substitute."  This is one area where my "Type A" personality comes out; my desire to control everything I put into my body. In a perfect world and if I had a million dollars, our family would eat the best organic produce. Our meat and dairy products would be hormone free and all of these things would come from local farms.  I would be able to pronounce every ingredient on my food labels. We would never eat fast food and if we did eat at a restaurant, I could order them "Grilled Chicken Fingers" and a side of apples, carrots or broccoli off the kids menu and they wouldn't complain.  But I am also realistic and know full well that I am doing better than most. I have created a "Prayer of Serenity" specifically for feeding my family:

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change about my family's eating habits;

courage to change the recipes to healthy ones when I can;

and hope they won't know the difference.

Living one meal at a time;

Enjoying one bite at a time;

Accepting chocolate chips as the pathway to peace;

Taking, as my Mom did, this sinful world of processed food and preservatives

as it is, not as I would have it;

Trusting that Flintstone vitamins will make all things right

if I surrender to Happy Meals;

That I may be reasonably happy in this life

and supremely happy when my kids eat green vegetables

Protein and Whole Grains.

Amen.

There really is only so much you can do when it comes to feeding your children, as much those smiling ladies on the covers of those books tell you.  My rule is McDonald's no more than once a week and when we do go, one gets apples with their Happy Meal and one gets fries, and divide each between the two.  I still say, “Everything in moderation.”  I still think kids deserve to eat McDonald's once in awhile, Dum-Dum suckers are sometimes the only way to get through certain situations and chocolate chip cookies, quite frankly, are good for the soul.  I guess I will just have to do what I have learned to do with most things in life since having kids...lower my standards and expectations just a bit.