From Our Family To Yours... in a Photocard

     It all starts with the Christmas cards.  Not the aisles transitioning from Thanksgiving to Christmas two days before Thanksgiving.  Not the commercials bombarding your children with what they can't live without.  Not the music on the radio.  Oh no, it's the Christmas cards for sure.  And nowadays it's not just any Christmas card, it's got to be the Christmas photo card.  Think of what your photo shelf or wall or decorative card tree looked like only 7 years ago and now look at it today.  My how things have changed.
     Today I have a hundred or so smiling faces looking at me.  No snowmen or Christmas trees, no Santa's sleighs or gingerbreads.  No matte or glitter, just shining glossy faces.  I resisted for years and years.  I would fill out my card and then slip a photo inside.  But the temptation to move to the photo-side just got to be too strong.  So I gave in.  I ordered my first photo cards last year.
     This year I went all-in.  I gave up my *favorite* seasonal past-time of addressing the cards and sticking on a free label that we got in envelope pleading for us to donate money to some worthy cause... maybe they shouldn't have included the free labels. To be fair, it'd be smarter for them to offer free labels only if we donated...  At any rate, this year I found a site that included shipping not just in the box to me, but to all of my recipients as well.  Holy wow.  I happily typed in the addresses and clicked submit. 
    I'm over-simplifying a bit here.  Actually a lot.  Every year Christmas cards become an unholy event in our household (and I'm assuming every one else's households as well).  Behind every smiling face is a shouting parent behind a camera and another parent sitting balled up on the sofa crying, "Whhhyy won't you just smile?"  For every photo that you see on a card (and sometimes there are three or more on the card), there were 50 more with their eyes closed, or blurry hands moving, or their butts facing towards the camera or their hats covering their eyes.  How many of these gems do we have on the photo roll?  Too many to count.



 

     And just when you have given up all hope, you take your last photo and...

     Painless, right?  See, I could just lie and say this was the only picture I took in front of the fireplace that day... but I wouldn't do that to you. And if I did, you would know I was lying anyway. 

     Of course, I have to resort to mostly tricks to get our Christmas cards done each year.  I try to occupy the children so I can snap a shot of them that looks like I planned it that way. Here are some of my tricks over the past few years.

Won't sit still?  Wrap him up as a present!

Too busy playing to notice that Mommy has laid down fake snow
and is taking a picture!



Read a book and then press delay on the camera! 
Start and stop reading about 10 times!

 

Notice we've changed the book so I can send photo cards to
my Jewish relatives.

May the force be with you this holiday season!



Imagine resorting to such trickery that you will actually give your children
sugary donuts before bedtime in order to snap a cheerful shot with them
staying in one place all so you that you can write,
"Hope your Christmas is filled with sweets and treats" on the card.

 

Our plan for this year's card almost backfired because the camera battery was
dead the night of the photo shoot so we needed to wait an extra night. 
Did you know that donut icing gets gooier if you try to save it for another day?

The price you pay for giving your child a sugary donut before bedtime.

 

 

     A friend of ours enlisted the help of professionals who resorted to putting their child in a gift box just before every photo and then snapping the shot as he finagled his way out, hoping to get a good moment.  Mind you, the gift box was not part of the photo, but the prop was used in hopes of delaying this child from running around the room and appearing as a blur in the photo.  Somehow she managed to have two pleasantly smiling children in the shot with the "runner coming out of the box".  I'm not sure how she managed that.

     Most of us have decided that parents should not be in the photo at all.  It's just too much work to get a good shot of the whole family.  Which is also why, in our annual photo book, there are usually only about 4 family shots... and none of them come from the holiday season.  The only exception to this rule is if you have older kids and they are in the photo wrapping you in Christmas lights... and the photo is being taken by a professional staging the whole event OR if you are pregnant.  If you are pregnant and you are not in the photo, your relatives will ask you to send pictures separately of you being pregnant... so you might as well put a photo on the photocard and get it over with!

     Some people want to jump onto the photo card bandwagon but don't have children.  These people often opt for glittery cards that get all over your sofa.  Or they choose to send a photo card of their pets.  I think I can admit that wrangling pets into outfits and getting a shot of more than one pet in a photo at a time would actually be more challenging than taking a picture of two kids.  In fact, I think it's downright impossible to get two awake pets in the same photo, let alone in costume.  This is probably why people resort to just putting the face of their puppy on a photo card image which turns her into a reindeer... or an elf.

     This year I have noticed that most of the photo card photos have nothing to do with the season.  Many of them are just pictures taken throughout the year.  What a liberating thought... that this doesn't have to be a scene I set up in front of the Christmas tree or during the first snow of the year.  In fact, the children might not have to be tortured at all next year.  Or better yet, I could just follow them around with a candy cane and take the holiday pictures just about anytime... or anywhere.  Or maybe my kids will get better at smiling on cue and not moving around after I set them up just right Who am I kidding?  I might as well just go buy the glitter cards that are on clearance this time of year.



 

     

What Friendships Have Become

     This summer my friend was absent on our annual camping trip. For 12 years we had been going on a weekend camping trip each summer, along with other good friends.  We see each other fairly often these days- as often as 30 somethings with kids who live in separate towns can possibly see each other- but somehow that's not quite enough. Something about that yearly camping trip, when we could sit down around a camp fire talking, rocking a baby or watching kids exploring the woods behind the site; something about that just makes a friendship richer.  So this summer when my friend said she was going to miss it, I just knew something needed to be done.  We camped without her and then we scheduled a second trip, later in the summer.  And it was great.  The kids were old enough to run between our sites and we all explored the waterfront for crayfish while holding our full Solo Cups.  Our husbands fished into the late night and didn't get a single bite.  We made S'Mores with marshmallows and Hersheys for the kids and that's when my friend whipped out the grown up chocolate.  Godiva Salted Caramel Chocolate bars.  Holy yum.  This is the meaning of true friendship.  She could've eaten the box chocolates on her own in her tent, but instead she shared and they made the best S'Mores... ever.
     Back in Elementary School, you played tag with your friends, pushed each other on the swings and competed at Super Mario Brothers.  In Middle School your best friends prank called you at 7:00 am so you would wake up to come over and watch cartoons and game shows all day.  You sat at the local Quickie-Mart and ate candy, perhaps, and rode your bike when you felt like moving off the couch or away from the laminate booth.
     High School?  Maybe you competed on the field, in the pool or on the court.  You passed notes folded into little triangles and written in secret backward-code language.  You called each other and talked for hours- which is saying a lot because most of us didn't get call waiting until halfway through the 90s, and some people never did quite catch on despite the fact of having teens in the house.  When you weren't on the phone, you were looming at each other's houses trying to get a freebie for dinner if you liked the way their mom and dad cooked (my favorite house to go to had a light salad and fresh bread for dinner each night).  You spent the night, without actually sleeping, finding ways to stay up later and later and into the morning (like dipping strawberries into instant coffee grounds and pouring water on sleeping siblings).  And if you were me (and Jewish), you even found excuses to stay over on Christmas Eve to actually experience a Christmas morning (at which point, you were hooked for life on the joy of the holiday).  High School was a great time for friendships. True, there was homework, but there was also long walks home and older boyfriends with cars.  There was more to talk about; more angst, more heartbreak.  And so, we talked, and laughed, and competed.  We shared.
     College started off with circles of friends, trying each other out.  We shared stories about our friends back home- the kinds of stories that didn't reveal too much about ourselves because we were still unsure of who we were.  We laughed and connected, trying to figure each other out while also trying to figure out our homework (okay, I was friends with a bunch of nerds, whatever).  We experimented together, walked together, and sat on the quad on sunny days together putting off work.  We did everything together and found out that our friends liked dessert instead of dinner and watching X-Files instead of doing homework.  Here's the thing- in college, particularly at that in-between time when we were too old to go to house parties but too young to have ID- we spent hours and hours in our dorms & apartments... talking.  We would cozy up in plaid pajama pants just talking for hours, about nothing in particular.  And that was what a friend was, someone to turn to, someone to talk to, someone to have fun with.
     Friendships have changed so much over the years.  Having young children means that long talks in pajama bottoms are completely out of the question.  Not only are you too busy, but after they go to sleep, you are too tired.  And what friend with kids stays past bedtime anyway?  Friendship has changed a lot over the years and I'm constantly noticing its evolution.  But it's not in a bad way by any means, that's what is so surprising. True, there's less time to talk, but there's also less that needs to be said.  It's that true appreciation of one's friends that comes with the wisdom of age.  It's knowing who to turn to if you need directions on how to make cake pops, or cream cheese Snickers dip.  Friendship is picking up where you left off.  Friendship is saying goodbye to good friends with a smile, hoping they will come back soon.  Friendship is dishing out Insider Disney tips (like: Stay for the fireworks, eat cinnamon rolls at the bakery on Main Street, DON'T go to the Progress of Time unless you need a break from walking anyway, Do have your bald husband get a sparkling Mickey glued onto the back of his head, arrange for cute matching shirts, etc...).  These are currently my definitions of good friendships. You know you've truly arrived a the mecca of good friends when you invite a large group over and you notice that you are not stressed about your living conditions.  Yes, you need to vacuum and wash dishes before they show up but it isn't a big deal when you look up and realize their are dead bugs in your ceiling fan that you didn't have a chance to clean out.  And you don't feel ashamed of the fake brick on your kitchen walls (that you can't for the life of you figure out how to cheaply remove... or cover up).  No, good friends don't care about any of that and will not judge about any of that.  But I digress.  Good friends come over and share great food and efficiently listen while at the same time cutting up their child's hot dog into small bites.  Good friends nod sympathetically at just the right times.  They clean out Crock Pots after your chili cook-off and help you put away all of the left overs before they spoil.
     This weekend we had a celebration we like to call "Friendsgiving". We've been known to have any one of several types of fall parties: Halloween, Octoberfest, Deep Fry Fest and Friendsgiving.  This year we were due for an extra turkey dinner so we called up a few friends and before we knew it our house was jam-packed, the kids were a riot tearing apart the downstairs, babies were being passed around and all the cups were filled to the brim.  We didn't have too much time to talk about deep philosophical musings like we had back in college. Instead it was just deep appreciation for each other. One friend came from having a family picture taken... and it didn't take much to see that she and her husband needed a drink the second they walked into the door.  Before long we were all sharing stories of how the kids wouldn't stop crying, of how we were sure none of the pictures would turn out, of how they had broken into that strange rash the morning of the appointment, of how we realized at the last minute that none of our pants matched in the photo or how we had to trick our kids into sitting still and smiling by giving them a book to pretend to read.  True friendship is showing your friend the family photos you have, and pointing out how everyone's eyes are directed someplace different, the look of panic on your husband's face and also how tightly you are gripping your youngest so that he will not run away again.  And at the end of the night after we had eaten, talked, laughed and talked some more, we finished it all off with dessert and coffee.  I looked in the fridge. There was hazelnut creamer and hidden purposefully in the back there was a new flavor of creamer Bill had just bought for me. International Delight Salted Caramel.  Limited Edition.  These were my friends, in my home.  They deserved the best.  So I shared, because that's what good friends do.
    

I Married Into A Bacon Family

     Long before bacon was trendy, my in-laws were coating their turkey with it and nibbling on the burnt edges along with the rest of their Thanksgiving feast.  No everyone loves bacon.  You can get bacon flavored chocolate, bacon flavored peanuts, bacon dips and bacon infused vodka (it's called Bakon and we are currently working on our second bottle, but there are only so many Bloody Maries and screwdrivers you can make in a given year).
     As an official member of the family now, we've taken the family vegetable to a whole new level of understanding.  First off, my husband has researched and, thanks to the Barbeque Pit Boys (check them out on you tube, you won't be sorry), he is fluent in the art of making a bacon blanket to coat any slab of meat.  Of course, we can't use the bacon blanket when we deep fry our turkey, but on other years when the turkey is smoked on the woodfire grill... it's smoked with yummy bacon juices seeping onto the skin.
     But that's just the turkey.  Last year I made the most succulent, delicious stuffing I had ever tasted.  All thanks to bacon grease.  Copious amounts of bacon grease... and butter and onions and garlic.  Along with all good bacon comes onion, garlic and butter.  The heavenly foursome heralded by bacon also goes into the "mashpo", along with sour cream, milk and cheeses.  Isn't it obvious what should go into the gravy?  Especially since we don't cook the bird in the oven, the juices really do need to come from (you guessed it) ... the bacon pan.  And true, the appetizers we share are usually store bought from a freezer, but more often than not they include bacon. Actually, to be fair, I think tomorrow Bill is planning on rib appetizers. But since that's pork, I guess it counts too!  Surely a family that eats this much bacon... must not live until Christmas.  Is that what you are thinking?  Perhaps, but we've happily managed to defy odds thus far so we've got the fridge stocked up with all four pounds of bacon for tomorrow's feast once again.
     But why stop at using bacon on turkey, stuffing, mashpo & apps?  I mean, couldn't we also put bacon into the cranberry sauce?  You know, mix it in with that gelatin stuff?  Why not celebrate Thanksgiving with a green bean casserole sprinkled with bacon bits?  Or put those bacon bits where they really belong... in the dough for the rolls!  I think I might be getting somewhere so while I'm at it, I will suggest bacon in the apple crisp and also to add a little kick to the creamed onions.  I think I'll hold off on the bacon in the sweet potatoes- for some reason that is where I draw the line.
    Seriously, to be a member of this family you really must accept bacon as the love of your life.  Our children respond to "I'll give you piece of bacon" just as they would to "I'll give you a bowl of candy".  They fight over the last crispy piece and, unfortunately, they like "dessert bacon" just as much as the rest of us.  On a side note, yes, we've named a special type of bacon.  It's that bacon that has been coated with yummy brown sugary mapley goodness that all cooks on top of a lucky meat product and then when it's done it's a savory, juicy, crunchy goodness that can best be described as "dessert bacon" although you tend to eat it before any meal has been served, because you are sneaking it off of the bird in the kitchen when no one is looking (maybe that's why Bill likes to carve the turkey...).  Where was I?  Oh, right, I was about to tell a sad story.  So you know how when some people are pregnant they get cute cravings and their husbands have to go out and get it for them in the middle of the night?  Well, Bill and I were totally on board with all of this and ready to go. I was ready to crave, and he was ready to go shopping in the middle of the night.  Well, the cravings never came... but for my first pregnancy I got two aversions. One to Red Bull (long story) and the other to... you guessed it... Bacon.  The sizzling, the smell, it just all grossed me out.  It took me years to recover.  I still cannot embrace actual plain bacon like I used to.  But as Liam gets older, I become more familiar with my old friend (actually not really that old, because I didn't really even eat bacon until I met Bill.  I didn't exactly grow up in a "bacon family".  Oddly, my Jewish mother served me pork chops but never ham or bacon.  I couldn't explain this if I tried).  At any rate, I became more and more comfortable with bacon- on burgers, in quiche and as a stirrer for my coffee (just kidding, but it kind of sounds awesome, doesn't it?).  Until last year when I made my bacon-masterpiece.  The stuffing.

Instilling a love of pork products at an early age.

 

     Truth be told, I am not sure I could replicate last year's stuffing.  I have no idea what brand stuffing it was- I don't think I could research what brand was on sale at our grocery store last November the week before Thanksgiving.  I don't know how much onions, garlic and butter I put in- except that it must have been copious amounts because I remember saucepans full.  If I remember correctly- and tomorrow will be the true test to this- I did not just stop at cutting up bacon and putting it in.  I poured the greasy fat in too.  In some families this would cause gagging.  In some families, there would be blushing and "no thank you's".  In some families bacon might only be covering the bird, nothing more.  But in this family, it's just not enough to crunch up some bacon and put it in the stuffing (and the mashpo, and the cranberry sauce- I think I may try that one tomorrow).  In this family, crunched up bacon isn't enough on its own, you need the grease too.  Because that makes one hell of a stuffing.

You may have thought I was kidding when I referred to "the bacon blanket".
I assure you, I was not kidding.

The Grocery Store Switch

     We pulled into the grocery store parking lot all in good moods.  Liam was going to get the popcorn for his classroom, Josh was going to get the carrots.  We also needed diced tomatoes and juice.  It was going to be a short, cheap trip.
     But I forgot about the "Grocery Store Switch".  With the "Grocery Store Switch", nothing is ever really easy.  Nope, the "Grocery Store Switch" insures that any trip to a grocery store (or any store for that matter) will end in embarrassment and humiliation because no matter how sweet we are all being to one another, no matter how controlled the kids are behaving, no matter how exemplary our family looks when we enter the store... there is a 100% chance that conditions will deteriorate and it will all end in disaster.  What's the "Grocery Store Switch"?  I'm convinced that when we enter the store, the kids sense that it's time to break down.  it's their safe place to sit on the floor, touch everything and try my patience.
     Just in case I ever consider going back to a grocery store with the kids, here's a list of reasons why I shouldn't that I'm recording for my own self-preservation...

(1) I believe that if you break something, you need to buy it so it's very hard for me to reconcile this with the fruits that fall onto the floor, bruised and rolling under a refrigerator unit. 
(2) Kids like to touch everything because they like textures... they like bumpy avocados and smooth cardboard boxes, cool glass jars and soft bags of marshmallows.  This all makes sense to me... but that doesn't make it any easier to keep up with arranging the boxes that are knocked over, re-stacking the vegetables and fixing all of the other jars & boxes on the shelves we pass.
(3) Liam likes to help.  He insists on pushing the cart.  I would like to make a formal, public apology to anyone who happens to be walking in his path.  I'm trying my best to help him avoid obstacles (you).
(4) I hate public restrooms. 
(5) Monkey-see-monkey-do... not that I'm comparing my kids to monkeys but when one sees the other do something immature and ridiculous, the other one seems to want to copy him.  So I guess I'll just go ahead and admit it, they're a couple of monkeys running up and down the aisles, giggling.
(6) The games and helping don't work... for more than five minutes.  I can give any jobs to them- from coupon scavenger hunts and shopping lists with cute pictures to putting things in the cart and stacking items on the check-out conveyor belt.  I imagine that in the future I'll have them look for the better sale on unit prices.  None of this will work... for longer than five minutes.
(7) I prefer to not look like a screaming lunatic in public.  And yet tonight when both boys left the first set of sliding doors, I found myself screaming out in a panicked shrieky voice, "LIAM! JOSHUA!" and running away from my $139.62 worth of groceries to go get them.
(8) There's no such thing as a quick trip to the grocery store.  When you only need popcorn, tomatoes, juice & carrots but you come up with $139.62 more than that... it's far from simple.
(9) Grocery carts are not comfortable for children no matter how you look at it. Wire mesh with a plastic sheet doesn't really sound like a nice place to sit for 45 minutes. Josh technically fits into the basket so we will spend a good amount of time maneuvering his legs into the leg holes while he clips his finger into the seatbelt. Once Liam has knocked over a stack of oranges and run into 3 pedestrians, I tell him he can't push the cart anymore and then his body becomes completely limp and he claims to be "exhausted" and so I need to lift him into the cart.  I feel that it's necessary to lift him into the cart because once (when Bill was supervising the children, not me, I can't take credit for this one) Liam tried to climb into the cart and ended up toppling the whole cart over- groceries & Josh in all.  Once Liam is safely snug in the cart, he proceeds to stack all the cans (which means they will all be dented) and then, as more and more groceries are added to the cart, becomes too squished and needs to get out which is when he decides it's a brilliant mode of transportation to be under the cart- which I claim to be a horrible idea and it all ends with him pushing the cart again because, honestly, this is about self-preservation and he's actually less harmful pushing the cart into strangers than crunching up all of our pasta and pretzels with his lanky legs.
(10) I never remember to make lists and when I do, I never remember to look at them.  So instead, I efficiently sweep every aisle looking for inspiration purchases and then, once we get to the milk & cheese aisle, I inevitably remember something we need in produce but no bother, that's right near the check out counter... but then I remember I forgot to get two bags of those Santita chips that only cost $2... and then someone has to go to the bathroom again and by this point I. Am. Done.

     We usually end up with a time-out sentence which is filled out in the car when everyone is so stunned by the horrific experience that they wouldn't want to talk anyway.  By the time we get to the house, the so-called Grocery Store Switch is turned off and the boys are being sweet, carrying in bags of groceries (Josh gets the $2 chips because in addition to being cheap, they're also quite light).  The grocery switch is turned off and it's time to make Spaghettios because we're late for dinner, which means we'll be late for baths, which means we'll be really late for bedtime, which means I'll have less time to grade my kids' spelling papers stunned in front of the television.  And this is why I should never ever take my kids to the grocery store.



This is me, in a frenzy, trying to take a picture of two cute kids with mini carts while
 pushing my own big cart and walking backwards.

Liam is not picking his nose... I don't think.

Adults in a Candy Store

     We took the boys to Target to pick out our candy selection for Halloween.  Big mistake.  BIG mistake.  After we wrestled no less than 10 bags out of their dirty little paws, we settled on a chocolate mix.  It wasn't that they disagreed with our choices; they just wanted all of the candy.  Liam even said, "I want all of this candy."  I don't think he meant all of the types of candy either.  I think he literally wanted to take the department home with us.  Apparently the boys are not yet mature enough to help out with candy selection. 
     And I wonder why my kids aren't mature enough to shop for candy... that is, until I realize that I am not yet mature enough to accompany them trick or treating.  We went to a trick-or-treating event at a local school this weekend.  Liam scoped out every possible hallway where candy was being passed out.  He steered us into classrooms, down side hallways and off the beaten path.  As I tagged along behind him, I couldn't help but eye the stashes of candy myself.  Something about Halloween makes me want all of the candy.  I can't seem to put an end to it, but I just start to feel like a full candy bowl is... an accomplishment.  Like if we don't get enough variety, we've failed the task of Halloween.  Or maybe that's not it at all.  Maybe I feel entitled to the candy.  Like this is the chance for the world to give back (which is completely true if you take into account that we live on a dead end street and no one ever stops by our house; but yet we still put out candy each year).  Sometimes I can feel myself turn green with greed (I know, it's supposed to be green with envy, but whatever).  I just want more candy, MORE, MORE!!!  That might be the truth of it right there.
     Really, I feel that I've always been quite immature when it comes to Halloween. My last time out trick or treating, I accidentally let it slip to a home-owner that I could see their house from my classroom window each day... and since it was a high school across the street, I think they were a bit offended (and maybe concerned about a high school stalker who might skip classes just to stop by, expecting candy).  So clearly I clung on to my favorite parts of Halloween for far too long. It wasn't until the following year that I spent Halloween doing what every self-respecting teenager should be doing, running through ditches full of leaves and behind houses playing a game of "night tag" with toilet paper and silly string... and, of course, trick or treating at our teacher's houses. 
     Now that I'm a grown up, I see Halloween entirely differently.  I kind of feel like a mooch.  I'd probably feel better if more kids came to our house.  But as it is,. here we are going to other peoples' houses one-by-one, expecting them to serve us (while their kids are skipping by our street despite bowls of untouched, unwatched candy on all of our sidewalks).  One year I had Liam do UNICEF, which you would think would make me feel far less like a mooch, but actually it felt even worse!  Even though obviously UNICEF $ doesn't go to me (or in this case Liam) and it was going to be sent away to some deserving cause, I still felt that the home-owners were a bit put off so we haven't done it again since... plus, as greedy as I am, Liam is far worse and not good at hiding it. He would gladly let other children starve so that he could get a bite sized Snickers bar.
     I may not be mature enough to chaperone Halloween... each year rather than making a simple sweep of the neighborhood and heading home, we always find ourselves staying out past dark going to "just one more house".  The streets clear out and I insist on stopping at a couple more on the way home.  It's probably why I we stayed out a few years back, despite heavy rainfall later in the evening... because we had just gotten to the nice neighborhood.
     IRONY ALERT: I don't really like candy and we always have plenty of leftovers which we end up getting rid of before the Christmas candy influx. By the time Valentine's Day rolls around, I'm so sick of candy, I wouldn't think of stealing any of those little bite sized bars taped to the back of my kids' paper valentines.  And really, also, we don't end up with that much candy at Halloween.  I'm sure if I left Liam to his own devices, and didn't insist on him taking the extra 10 seconds to say "Thank you", I'm sure he'd come home with a full bag of loot.  But for now, we just stand in the back, eyeing the candy that gets dropped into the bucket.  Nicely suggesting, "We'll take the Twix bars" to the homeowner who smiles and politely says, "Those are my favorite too, how about taking a nice Butterfinger instead."



Hmm... choices, choices.
Joshy at age 1 1/2



Why choose when you can take three at once?
Liam at age 2 1/2

Joshy and His Friends

Inventory of Joshua's stuffed animals:  Hmmm... where do I start?  Might as well just jump right in... mind you, these are all capitalized because they are all their actual names.  Joshua is not too creative in the names department.  I'm pretty sure when he has kids, they will be Joshua, Jr. and Joshamina.

• 2 Little Doggies "that are brothers"
• Peter Rabbit
• Softest White Bear
• Yellow Bear
• Pooh Bear
• Brown Bear
• Big Lion
• Pink Lion
• Little Lion
• Mickey
• Ferret
• Soft Piggie
• Piggie
• Hamster
• Hamster That Was Mommies
• Crazy Monkey
• Pink Monkey
• Red Monkey
• Mommy Monkey & Baby Monkey
• Mommy Kangaroo & Baby Kangaroo/Joey
• Mommy's Elephant
• The Elephant Liam Made For Me When I Was A Baby
• Froggies (there are 3, the only distinguishing one is "Big Froggie")
• Liam's Chipmunk
• My Chipmunk
• Liam's Squirrel ("But where is my squirrel, and when will you fix Liam's squirrel and sew his butt?")
• Good Luck Bear (that used to be mommies)
• Cheer Bear
• Singing Blue Bear (who is stuffed into the bottom of the toy box because he is sooo annoying)
• White Doggie
• Zebra
• Lion (a different one)
• Black Cat
• Snakey
• Giraffe
• Rhinocerous
• Soft Leopard
• The Monkey Blanket Auntie Lor Got Me When I Was A Baby
• The Lion With a Blanket
• and last, but not least, the animal that started it all.... Alligator

     This is an accounting of most of Joshua's "friends" but not all of them.  I'm pretty sure I've left out at least 15.  Here's the problem.  I am expected to have a full accounting of all of Joshua's animals at any given time.  It doesn't matter who had them last (Joshua) and where they had them (behind the couch, thrown down the stairs, under the Lego table in Liam's room, next to the potty, etc...).  Regardless, it is fully expected that I will know where any one of them is according to Joshua's whim.  Of course, it's fully expected at this point by me that Joshua will come up with the most obscure of all his animals, the friend who is least likely to be found at that particular moment or who happens to be in the car when it is raining outside (bummer, detached garage).  And so I have found myself crawling under tables, feeling around under beds and digging through bins and bags to find just the right one to help Joshua fall asleep that night.
     It gets a bit worse.  Joshua has started this full accounting of his toys now too.  So my responsibilities have tripled.  I am now expected to keep track of his magic wand (which cost 25 cents), his noise maker, the Sponge Bob toy he got from McDonalds, his red car, his green car, his blue car... you get the idea).  In this house that is overflowing with toys, I really cannot keep up.  Especially not since we started bribing Joshua to become potty trained.  Now he is "earning" countless penny treasures for doing what nature calls on us to do quite naturally.  He has amassed such a fortune that there is no possible way I can know at all times where his parachute man, old silly putty, new silly putty, slide whistle, big whistle and monster finger puppet could possibly be.
     This is like the book Knuffle Bunny (by Mo Willems) times 100.  It's like Corderoy Bear but instead of the bear coming to look for us, we have to go searching for them!  There was one time when it was my fault of course.  We had gone to the city to go to the zoo. We were hours away from home and stopped for dinner.  I know I had Alligator at the dinner table.  I know we had Alligator in the bathroom.  I thought I remembered Alligator resting on top of my purse.  I didn't remember having Alligator after that.  We got back on the big road to head home and... where was Alligator?  Bill looked at me.  I looked at Bill. "We have to go back," Bill said in a deadpan, serious tone.  He got off the exit and headed back.  It was 9:00 pm by this point, did I mention we were hours away from home?  We got back to the restaurant.  No Alligator.  I went to the bathrooms.  No Alligator.  I headed back to the car, forlorn and wincing because I knew what would come next.  Nothing, Joshua had fallen asleep. But the seriousness wasn't lost on either Bill, me or even Liam who was still awake in the backseat.  We needed to find that Alligator.  Bravely Bill took to the streets, canvasing our path to find our furry Webkinz friend.  Yes, we know, ... he's actually a Crocodile (once we found that out, it was already too late so the name "Alligator" just stuck).  There he was; in the gutter where our car had been parked.  When Josh woke up close to home, he had no idea the tragedy that almost had occurred.  To not have Alligator would've been unthinkable, I think.
     So sometimes I will need to crawl under tables, feel under beds and search the gutter.  And I know I will constantly have to remind Joshua, "I can't keep track of all of your animals!"  but in the end I hope he knows I will find them, brush them off (wash them several times) and give them back to him... especially if it's my fault he lost them in the first place. 

Why I Don't Need A Watch

     This is why I am always late.  I've figured it out.  It's not because I have kids; it's not because  drive slowly (hah!); it's not because I wait until the last minute to leave and it's not because I forget things at home and have to turn around.  Nope.  It's because I hate being early.  In my eyes, there's nothing worse than arriving early.  I'll risk not getting there on time if it means I don't have to be sitting there, with no real purpose, waiting 10 minutes early and then an additional 15 minutes while I wait for the next person to arrive.
     This being said, I am always late (never on time).  I tend to run between 7-20 minutes late for every event I attend.  I tend to run about 2 minutes late to every special that I walk my students to.  Even when I set myself up for leaving early, I fill my time up with other tasks just to aim to be there on time (which ends up being late).  I will wash dishes, fold laundry, even untangle a ball of yarn.  Of course, then there's always the unpredictable tasks... which happen so often that they could actually be considered "predictable".  These include: a dirty diaper, spilled oatmeal, when only can find 1 of my shoes, oops we forgot to pack snacks and also "Did anyone brush their teeth?"  So once I've sufficiently postponed leaving early and instead managed to make myself late, we end up speeding through the quiet neighborhoods near our home and making excuses at our destination.
     But the alternative is much much worse.  This morning we had a play date and we were early.  I tried to become late but despite my efforts, we ended up getting there early. I actually looked at the clock and misread it.  I thought it read "9:29" when actually it must've been 9:19 because once everyone did their whole shoe-putting-on routine, it was only 9:30 and we were out the door.  I caught a glimpse of the clock on the way out and was rightfully perplexed.  Our destination wasn't more than 15 minutes away.  I couldn't think of any ways to make us late. Both kids had their shoes on and were out the door.  My mind filled with ideas... I could move the wash over but no, maybe I should just return that inspiration purchase I bought at the Halloween store (I admit it, a caped Wonderwoman shirt).
     Unfortunately it was Sunday today so the Halloween store wasn't open yet.  And we didn't hit any traffic either.  I did consider going to a grocery store but... that'd make us helplessly late so I decided against it.  We ended up at the park just about 10 minutes early so we took a potty break.  Usually the kids just play until they can't take it anymore so stopping before playing was a novel concept.  But it was 10:06 and the playdate wasn't there.  I got a text, "We'll be there shortly".  We played awkwardly for 10 minutes, 15 minutes, 20 minutes... which is hilarious because if we were just at the playground to play with just the three of us, we'd have had a great time swinging and climbing and sliding.  But for some reason when you are waiting for someone, it's just plain awkward. 
     Here's the thing.  If I'm meeting you somewhere, I'll never get mad if you run late (except if you're my husband).  I completely understand.  Believe me, I understand.  And I'd hate to disappoint you if you've been waiting patiently for us when we are running late.  But if I had a choice, I'd show up just about 2 minutes after you. 
    

Plastic Wrap, Cellophane and Cardboard

     I always thought individual wrappings were a waste.  I still do but despite my best efforts at accumulating Tupperware containers... we seem to be buying more and more individually wrapped snacks for the children.
     It started with cheese sticks. For some reason that I cannot imagine, packing actually cut up cheese (even in the shape of a "stick") and putting it in a lunchbox just isn't received well.  For some reason, Liam just prefers his cheese to be stringy or twisted together (cheddar and mozzarella) and my self-cut cheeses just can't compete.  Plus a cheese stick is much like a Twinkie.  They just don't seem to go bad (which is dangerously counter-intuitive considering that they need to be refrigerated).  There isn't even a sell-by date stamped on them (also a little disconcerting).
     For years I've seen kids coming to school with lunch bags full of prepackaged snacks.  4 packs of Oreos, small bags of chips, even pre-wrapped pickles.  Naturally, I thought I was better than all of their parents and that when I had children, all of their snacks would be snuggly fit into Tupperware of varying sizes.  I thought I would buy big bags of snacks- economically and environmentally friendly- and then repack them into said Tupperware. I thought I would reuse plastic bags.  That's hilarious.  Right now I suppose my track record isn't too too bad.  For the most part, when we have a big bag, I certainly do find an appropriately sized Tupperware.  And the same goes for the cookies.  But I've certainly had to get off the high horse.  Instead of buying large yogurt containers and giving just a little bit to Liam each day, I've gone the way of the Go-Gurt (in my defense, I usually try to get the brand with less sugar).  It's hard to pass up the mom-tested-and-proven trick of freezing the Go-Gurts and then the next day not only will your child get a cool yogurt treat (a smoothie, if you will), they will also get a decent ice pack in their snack bag to keep the water cool for the morning.
     I admit, I slacked off during our vacation last year.  We saved hundreds at Disney by stuffing prepackaged snacks into our backpacks to tide us over between meals.  Instead of snacking on $10 bins of popcorn and heated up pretzels, adults and children alike all munched on Rice Krispie treats, cereal bars, fruit leather and crackers.  Side note: the bakery on Main Street had humungous cinnamon buns which were a perfect exception to our snacks-from-the-backpack rule.  I got a little spoiled by pre-packaged snacks on vacation so this summer as we headed out for science classes, swim lessons and play dates, I packed up a lunch bag full of treats, mostly pre-wrapped and ready to eat.  And as a result, we had handfuls of plastic wrappings to show for it, including those little clear plastic straw wrappers that static cling to your hand when you try to throw them out and inevitably end up on the ground as litter.
     I suppose it's not just the children I need to blame here for pushing me into the realm of individually wrapped items.  After all, for years now I have been taking a Lean Cuisine lunch to school in my lunchbag. This includes a plastic container (if microwaved, could cause cancer), plastic film as well as a cardboard box.  If I get the Lean Cuisines from the wholesale store, not only will they have the plastic container, film and cardboard box, they will also be reinforced with an extra sheet of cardboard and then plastic wrapped.  What's up with the Fort Knox of Lean Cuisines? 
     Maybe I'm old fashioned.  I kind of wish we could go back to the days of individual wrapping meaning the peel of a banana (or an orange). It just seems that after all of those lessons I learned in elementary school about "Reduce, Reuse and Recycle"... we've actually taken several steps backwards instead.  Maybe we're afraid of contamination and want to keep our kids' snacks clean and disease-free... or maybe we're all just lazy.  I can admit to that.  I suppose it is a bit easier to pack Liam's snack with a small bag of Pirate Booty, a packaged fruit leather and a cup of applesauce.  Is it good enough that I tell him not to throw out the spoon so he can re-use it tomorrow?

Epic Failure

 

      Epic failure. As a parent, we all have moments (weeks) where we feel we are complete failures at the work we have done.  We realize that despite our best efforts, there's just no progress, even resistance or regression. Six years of reading together, snuggling on couches, beds, under trees and in our rocking chair; for nothing.  Reading classes?  A waste of money.  Preschool that taught one letter a week for 26 consecutive weeks?  Useless.  My kid hates reading... and math too.
     It was his last activity in a "Fun Summer Packet"!  Only Liam didn't really think the activities were that fun. Maybe because they were photocopied instead of in color, maybe because he was just plain lazy or perhaps because this infringed on his plans for summer (TV, DS, swinging and playing Star Wars with his friends).  The last activity asked, "Are you ready to go back to school?" And this was Liam's response. Apparently no, he was not ready to return to school in September... or anytime for that matter!
     Not liking reading had spread earlier in the summer like an unchecked disease in my household.  Joshua used to read books on his own (looking at pictures, talking about characters and recalling parts of the book) but when Liam exclaimed his distaste for reading, Joshua couldn't help but follow along.  "I don't know how to read!" was the reply I would get from Joshua whenever I put a book in his lap or suggested he do the same.
     I thought maybe Liam was just sick and tired of reading out loud and maybe he was frustrated by books that were just too difficult.  So, being a teacher, a filled a small bin with books and looked up their reading levels (I like to use http://www.scholastic.com/bookwizard/).  I suggested that the children spend time each day reading silently.  Maybe reading silently would be less work.  But no, not really.  Even this didn't seem to work and was done with a begrudging attitude by both boys. Yet on a positive note, Liam did read Green Eggs and Ham about 20 times this summer along with a few other books from the Fly Guy series.
      At the end of the summer, I couldn't help but perseverate on all we had done for Liam's entire life as a reader.  From those first sentimental books that we wanted to read to a baby who just wanted to hear our voice, like Love You Forever and The Polar Express, to lifting up flaps in Susan Katz's "Where is Baby's Mommy?" and giggling at Sandra Boynton's books as we clapped to "Barnyard Dance"!  I couldnt' help but think about Liam begging me each night to keep reading as I read aloud Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and how he did the same when Bill read my old childhood copies of The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe series out loud. I thought of all our laughter reading "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!" and shouting "NO"!  Or the giggling at the absurdity of Robert Munsch's books like "Pigs!" I mean, who wouldn't laugh at seeing a pig peeing on the principal's shoe? Hours of choosing PBS shows encouraging reading, like Word Girl and Super Why... not important.  I thought of library story hours with him shouting out answers that the librarian was asking.  I thought of the bookshelves, jammed with books like old friends and with stacks of freshly read books on top of each bookshelf that they liked to have read and reread to them for weeks straight.  I thought of the little bin of books in the living room.
     Was it really true that Liam didn't like to read?  Was all of this a wasted enterprise?  I couldn't help but be a concerned parent.  In the end, with the advice of a good teacher friend, I had Liam erase his negative answer.  I explained that it was not a good way to start the year, that it would make a bad first impression.  We talked about what he did like in school, science experiments!  And then I asked him, "Liam do you like being read to?" and he smiled at me, I already knew the answer.
     Liam might not like reading on his own, but he does love reading with his mommy, daddy and yes, even his teacher.  All these years of work has shown him that reading is a shared experience, done on the couch, in our favorite rocking chair or on a big circle rug in his classroom.  Someday I know he will be sneaking Captain Underpants or Geronimo Stilton books under the covers at night and begging me for the new hardcover by his favorite author.  Someday I'll share Artemis Fowl with him.  Someday when his teacher reads aloud Hugo, I know he'll raise his hand (yeah, right!) and shout out "I've read that book with my mom!" So for now I guess I just don't have time to worry about whether or not he likes reading, because regardless of what he writes at the end of a fun summer of doing worksheets, watching TV, playing his DS, swinging and playing Star Wars with friends; I know that my favorite part of the summer was introducing him to Harry Potter.

Not Keeping Score

     It's the last day of summer and the world is our oyster. The boys have just gotten back from a week's stay with my mother.  During this past week I've worked almost-non-stop in my classroom because my earlier attempts to get work done with both children in the room resulted in blueberries crushed in the carpet and a sea of marbles rolling around under all the bookcases and desks.  At any rate, we've had our summer camping trips, a day at the zoo, play dates, museums, family picnics, summer blow-out BBQ party, science classes, swim lessons, lazy pool days, lazy backyard days, lazy television days, etc...  So what was left on the to-do list?
     Well, first it was haircuts because the children hadn't been snipped since June and they were looking like mangy dogs (cute mangy dogs, but still).  After their trims, we ambled over to the pet store to look at ferrets.  It was still early and the boys insisted on mini-golf as an end-of-summer activity.  I used my BOGO admission coupon and we were on our way with golf clubs in hand.  I even avoided the bounce houses, bumper boats, playland, super slide, rock climbing wall, batting cage and go-carts all of which cost an extra $4-6. 
     We grabbed our clubs and balls and headed over to the first hole, which is when I realized I hadn't grabbed a score card.  Why keep score anyway?  I'm not sure who the winner would be between Joshua, Liam and I.  At any rate, without keeping score we weren't bothered when Joshua picked up his ball after the first swing and plopped it into the hole.  Nor did it matter when Liam decided to just throw his ball into the alligator's mouth so it could roll directly into the hole.  We giggled when we knocked the ball into the stream and could care less when it rolled back to the tee.

     The boys played on a pirate ship and tried to figure out which track led to the hole. They ran under the sprinklers giggling and we all had a blast... until Joshua tripped on an average sidewalk and his knee began gushing blood.  We threw the balls into the final pirate ship and headed to the bathroom. It seemed there were no paper towels in the bathroom, only driers and toilet paper wasn't going to cut it.  I carried a pitiful, whimpering Joshua back to the car.
     Then I saw the diaper bag and figured, why not?  I poured water onto an opened up Pull-Up and put pressure on his wound.  Okay, so the blood slowed down its gushing but how long would we be staying there waiting with him sitting on the hood of my car and Liam standing in the parking lot?  I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to drive one handed, with the other hand keeping pressure on his knee...  what to do?
     And that's what brothers are for.  We scooted Liam's booster seat into the middle, next to Joshua's and buckled them both in.  I positioned the diaper back over Joshy's knee and Liam placed his small hand down on top of it.  And that's how we drove home.
    "I think that was my favorite time we've ever gone mini-golfing," I called back to Liam.
     Liam said "What?  That wasn't good at all!" 
     "Right," I said, "it was my favorite time mini-golfing until Joshua fell and hurt his knee."
     And we didn't talk about who won and who lost on the way home.  Instead we giggled about how far off the green we shot and how we never found Liam's ball that rolled into that pipe...  and as we pulled onto the highway, and I looked back in the rear view mirror to see Liam next to his little brother, holding on his make-shift silly bandage it made me realize how much we had all won this morning (despite a scrape on the knee)... even though we didn't keep score.

 

Metamorphosis and other big science words

     I am never a fan of those very nicely polished projects that end up looking perfect. I am skeptical of clean cuts and coloring within the lines.  On Pinterest it seems that every child's craft looks as though Martha Stewart herself contributed to the final project.  It seems as though the photo was taken by a camera I couldn't possibly afford.
     I prefer projects that look as though they were completed by a child, and not a particularly talented child at that.  Unfortunately this usually results in glue stuck to my table and tiny slivers of paper scattered on my carpet.  Sometimes we come up with a recycled robot man and other times the result is a bit more, shall we say, abstract?
     This project is not just cute and pretty, but it also has many phases, which is good for a long day at home (Oops!  Too late, summer is over!) and it is a science lesson too. The teacher in me is just giddy with excitement.
     We started this project at a free butterfly museum hosted at a local school, but you can easily make caterpillars at home.  All you need is a big Popsicle stick, some pom poms, pipe cleaners and googly eyes.  You can use an egg carton instead of a Popsicle stick. After you have made your very easy and cute caterpillars, take them on a walk around the garden outside (or under your dining room table if you haven't swept up yet from breakfast) to give your caterpillars something to grow on.  Of course, you can also read Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.  It's an oldie but also a goodie.  Predictable but perfect.  Your very hungry caterpillars can eat the leaves in your garden, the leaves on the trees, the grass and also some junk just like the green friend in Eric Carle's book.


     The next step is to wrap up your caterpillar.  I used plastic grocery bags.  We put the caterpillars in, rolled them up and hung them from the ceiling just like chrysalises.  I cannot tell you how easy this was.  It was very easy.

     Then it was outside we went with some everyday *unused* tissues and watercolors.  Actually you can just water down some paint if you'd like.  You can use paintbrushes or if you have any water droppers handy, they do very well too.  Give the kids as many tissues as they would like and let them be creative.  Then leave them to dry and go check on the chrysalises (still not sure if that is a word).  This is when your children should take a three hour nap and leave you to watch the new episode of Burn Notice.
     It is time for you to be sneaky (while your children are sound asleep).  Creep back to the chrysalises and open them up.  Attach two butterfly wings for each butterfly.  I used tape because I am not Martha Stewart and this is a kids project we are going to throw out pretty soon anyway for goodness sake.  I think I even used masking tape because that's all I found, but I'd suggest clear Magic Scotch tape if you want to make it look a tad better.  You can attach the wings while they are still slightly damp but if they have fully dried by the time your Burn Notice episode is over, you might want to dab some water on the wings before wrapping them back up into the chrysalis.  This is because butterflies break out of their chrysalises with wet wings, so we might as well be authentic! Wrap the butterflies back up.  Did I mention you should have remembered whose butterfly was in which bag, hanging from which hook?  Oops.  You really should've done that.  If you hang the butterflies in the wrong spot, you could lose your cover since in nature, chrysalises don't tend to move around once they've attached.

Joshy's butterfly in his chrysalis, before being all wrapped up again by his sneaky mother.

     Now chances are your children have been bugging you all day about when the butterflies will be ready.  Much like a car ride barrage of "Are we there yet?" makes you just want to stop the car at the closest McDonald's Playland, you will likely be ready to get those damn butterflies out of their chrysalises and get the whole project over with!  So creep quietly back to the chrysalises (still hanging in the right spots).  "Help" your butterflies by unwrapping them carefully.  Lay them out flat and make ooing and awing noises.  Talk about why they are wet (look it up, you don't expect me to know, do you?).



Did I forget to mention that the boys like to wear ties?

    At this stage in life, a butterfly needs to dry off its wings before it can fly and seek out nectar to drink.  We brought our new friends outside to dry on the sidewalk and then we helped them flutter around our butterfly garden in front of our house.  In this case, it does help if you have bushes that are flowering. We have an appropriately named "butterfly bush", russian sage and also black eyed susans, all of which are favorites of butterflies at our house.  You can have about 7 minutes of fun with the butterflies fluttering around the flowers until someone's butterfly wing gets ripped and/or until one of the butterflies violently starts attacking your flowers with unbridled enthusiasm.  I've heard that if you have girls, they will be happy for about 10 minutes fluttering their butterflies around without causing harm to wings or flowers.

     So as you can see, this is a simple, fun and educational project to do with your children on a sunny day.  It helps if you use words like "metamorphosis" and "chrysalis" and even "pupa".  It helps if you refer to the caterpillar's "life stages" and/or "life cycle" and it's also a great opportunity to make connections to other creatures' life cycles and metamorphosis like dragon flies and frogs.  If your butterflies survived the fluttering around in the garden, you can even hang them for display in your home.  And once your children have learned more about butterflies, they will be more appreciative of these delicate and beautiful creatures in our world.  Joshy loves to chase them laughing hysterically, scaring them out of their wits, whereas Liam prefers to lure them onto his fingers with fruit juice or rotten fruit.  All in all, it's projects like these... done by actual real children... that make a sunny summer day one to remember with a smile.

Foods Your Kids Must Eat

     There are some foods your kids must eat... because it is extremely inconvenient for you if they do not eat them.  Healthy or not, children must eat the following foods: pizza, cheeseburgers AND/OR hot dogs, chicken nuggets and peanut butter.  Not liking one or more of these foods will cause you great angst as a parent.
   It is all well and good to have a child who loves Thai food, sushi, pho and spicy chimichangas but none of these will help you in a pinch at the family barbeque.  Aunt Betty will be serving up corn on the cob, cheeseburgers and hot dogs along with potato salad, macaroni salad and fried pickles (okay, ideally she'll be serving up fried pickles, but more realistically it'll just be a jar of dills).  Let's just rule out the salads because they have gloppy mayonnaise and the ingredients are all slopped together (generally unappealing for the kids).  Kids who don't like cheeseburgers or hot dogs will need to survive on corn alone.  I've attempted this before with my patented all-popcorn diet and it's not really a great option.  Let me also add a disclaimer here.  If it's one or the other... it should be hot dogs.  Hot dogs are faster and easier in a pinch.  Plus you can buy them at a gas station when your child is claiming to be starving on the way to a play date.
     Pizza and birthday parties go together just as fruit punch and crazed children; which is convenient because all birthday parties have pizza and fruit punch (and crazy children).  So if your child doesn't like pizza, he or she will go home full of chips and cake instead.  Recently Joshua has decided that he doesn't like pizza... and then that he likes pizza... and then that he will only eat pizza without sauce... and then that he doesn't like any pizza... and then that he will eat pizza again.  When he is in a no-pizza mood, it really puts a damper on things. Not only does it make birthday parties awkward ("Sorry, do you have anything else, he doesn't like pizza.") it also removes the option for a quick and easy meal after grocery shopping.  WHAT is not to like about pizza?  It's bread, it's cheese and it's sauce?  To top it all off, now that Josh is back into pizza (thanks to a baseball game and a cool older brother who does like pizza), his favorite part is actually the crust. That's not inconvenient... it's just weird.


Making a pizza together for Valentine's Day 2011, back when Josh still liked pizza.

With a home-made pizza like this, what's not to love?

     Peanut butter.  This is a staple food for moms everywhere who just want to give their kids some protein for heavens sake!  It's portable and delicious.  And the possibilities with peanut butter are just endless.  You can have plain, PB & J, peanut butter and honey, peanut butter and Fluff (admit it, you've tried it), peanut butter and apple butter, peanut butter and bananas, peanut butter and apples, peanut butter and cucumbers, peanut butter and celery with raisins (gross), peanut butter and maple cream (yum!) as well as peanut butter and what-ever-your-mommy-feels-like-hiding-in-the-sandwich-today!  Just so many options... all mostly healthy.  If you have a kid who is really into peanut butter, you can even be sneaky enough to spread it on healthy wheat grain bread!  But if your kid doesn't like peanut butter, you will have a sore reality to face when you are packing your next picnic. Trust me, it's best if you can convince them to eat peanut butter... even if that means adding that Fluff to the sandwich.
      I hesitate to even explain the chicken nuggets... because chicken nuggets are a mainstay in our household.  If all else fails... there are chicken nuggets.  And if chicken nuggets fail... there are dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Dino chicken nuggets are one of my kids' favorite things to play with.  It never gets old, listening to them talk about predator-prey relationships as they chomp off the heads of a T-Rex and a stegosaurus in quick succession.  If my kids didn't like chicken nuggets... well, that'd just be it. The McDonald's drive-through would be completely out (considering that the kids have a love-hate relationship with cheeseburgers which translates into loving them when we order and hating them when they unwrap the paper).  If they disliked chicken nuggets, it would just be devastating for long-distance travel. I don't think I'd approve of the kids eating tacos in the backseat. 
     Not that there is anything you can do... at all... to encourage your child to like hot dogs, peanut butter, pizza and chicken nuggets. It's really completely out of your control.  Actually, that's not true. The more you emphasize the need for them to try and to like one of these things... the more likely they will be to dig in their heels and declare a life-long distaste for life's most convenient foods.  If that happens, good luck.  I have a friend who carries around frozen burritos in her purse. That could be you.  Lord knows, I will probably need to carry a bag of chicken nuggets with me the next time we go to a birthday party.

Making A Home Presentable (When It Clearly Is Not)

     My sister once asked me how I got my house so clean.  When I stopped laughing, I explained to her that it's quite simple really.  I just visualize the most neat-freak guest that I will be expecting to show up at my house for the given event. And then it takes anywhere from 3 weeks to 5 minutes to get the job done.
     The 5 minutes are for family and very close friends.  It includes things like making sure I didn't take my clothes off in the bathroom and then leave them all lying on the floor.  The dirtier you've seen my house, the more you know I love you.  Either that or you really should call before just showing up at my door.
     The 3 weeks are for parties.  Big events that happen a few times a year.  We have been avoiding birthday party clean ups by contracting out our parties these past couple of years. But each summer we still insist upon having a summer BBQ.  There are many reasons for having a summer BBQ.  The first is that we enjoy seeing all of our friends and family and it's a good excuse to get everyone together.  The food is great too, especially since we started making a chili cook-off be the big event of the BBQ (next year, beware, Bill is reclaiming his title).  It's also a litmus test to see how popular we are; although it could just be Bill who is popular and not me...  At any rate, we do enjoy having a summer BBQ but it's a lot of work.  A lot a lot a lot of work.  Like, weeks worth of work.  Just in case you are clinically insane and wish to host a summer BBQ at your house, I have attached a schedule for cleaning while continuing to live in your house with children. This is an extremely precise schedule considering that any given moment grape juice could be spilled on the carpet, messy hands could be smeared on the walls and a soggy wad of oatmeal could be dripped onto the table and left there until it hardens into a rock-like substance (much like a coral reef).

3 Weeks Prior

• If you haven't done so already, start freaking out.  If you've already started to freak out, please continue.
• You can't really start any actual cleaning at this point.  Just try not to fall too far behind on the dishes, laundry or regular vacuuming.  Above all, don't expect any of the cleaning you do now to actually stick for the next three weeks.
• You could try to clean something that the kids have never heard of... like a closet.  You could also consider cleaning something obscure, like the curtains.
• Notice the crumbs an unidentified crud underneath the toaster oven. Freak out, but don't do anything yet.
• Remind your significant other of "The List" he wrote up on his own... he will soooo appreciate your frequent, gentle reminders.

2 Weeks Prior

• Still too early to really start cleaning... but you could perhaps tackle areas that can be quarantined off, like a guest bedroom.  Now is a good time to take care of outdoor spaces, like the garage. 
• Weed the gardens because even if little weeds spring up in the next two weeks, everyone will cut you a little bit of slack so it'll be okay.  Trim the hedges so they have time to regrow if you happen to "over-do" it a little bit.
• Next time you vacuum, vacuum in the little crevices and start to reach the corners.  Now is a great time to educate your children about cobwebs and dust bunnies.
• Clean hard to reach places (as in, places your kids won't be able to reach and muck up again) like the vent under the fridge and the floor under the stove broiler drawer.
• Take stock of stains on carpet. Freak out, but don't do anything yet.
• Clean the bugs out of any glass ceiling fans or light fixtures.  If you think of it, change the bulbs too.
• Check the mouse traps (JUST KIDDING... maybe?)!

Okay, this is when it really starts to get dicey.  You might even be getting over-confident, until you start adding up all of the remaining chores and factoring in the unknown.  Now you really must follow a precise schedule...

7 Days Prior

• Massive amounts of laundry. You can't get to the floors until the laundry is all done.
• Notice the smell in the bathroom. Freak out, but don't do anything yet.
• Sort through toys and put them away in the correct places (this is a much bigger job than you have time for).  Tell the children that they are not allowed to play with any of these toys for the next week.  That it would be better if instead of playing with toys, they just played with their shadows for a week.
• Shampoo the carpet or...

6 Days Prior

• Spot clean the carpet.
• Comment on how clean the carpet looks.
• Wash the walls. This might seem completely superfluous and ridiculous and frivolous but you would be SHOCKED at how much good a Mr. Clean Eraser (or competitive store brand) can do!  Clean off the shoe scuffs, the hand prints, the pencil marks and that funky sticky pink stuff that won't come off until you really scrub hard.
• Gently remind your significant other of all the things he must be getting done (without addressing everything that you have failed to complete on your own list).
• Visualize cleaning the bathroom.

5 Days Prior

• Get distracted by a menial task... like untangling string from your everything drawer, or changing batteries in all of your childrens' Zuzu pets.
• Notice that the carpet doesn't look as clean as it did yesterday. Notice the smell in the bathroom and the crud underneath the toaster oven. Freak out, but don't do anything yet.
• Dust surfaces and encourage the kids to "help out". 
• Glue together the figurines that the kids broke while helping you dust.  Hide the figurines that can't be fixed.
• Wash off cupboards in the kitchen.

4 Days Prior

• Do more laundry and put it away immediately (unlike what you normally do, which is to leave it in baskets around the house).
• Panic.  And then catch up on some TV shows you have on DVR.

3 Days Prior

• Window washing... yeah!  Have the kids help.  Expect half of your window washing fluid to be used on one pane.  Don't be tempted to wash glass surfaces that the kids will actually touch (like glass coffee tables you stupidly bought before having kids).
• Clean out the inside of the fridge and the microwave.  Good luck with that funky sticky pink stuff that won't come off until you really scrub.  What is that stuff anyway?
• Clean out the shower... just in case the shower curtain gets left open during the party (even though you always try to close it, why does it end up wide open?).
• Realize you will need to clean your shower curtain.
• Clean up after an inevitable huge mess that the kids just made: soggy cereal spilled under the table, cake batter sprayed all over the kitchen cupboards and counters, scraps of paper left over after making snowflakes, couch cushion obstacle course, etc...
• Clean up the family room and block it off completely.

2 Days Prior

• Freak out! Then get over-confident.
• Gently encourage your children to clean their rooms. This year was quite shocking... Liam actually said these words to me after about 20 minutes of cleaning, "Mom, I'm not done cleaning my room, I have a few more things I need to do."  On the other hand, you will likely have to sit there and telepathically visualize your child picking up each and every little toy left on the floor.
• Finally!  Clean up around the toilets and clean the bathtub toys.
• Prepare yourself for a major disaster such as: Dumped Legos on a plush carpet, muddy sneakers and/or a broken dishwasher handle rendering the dishwasher unusable for the foreseeable future (TRUE STORY)!

1 Day Prior

• Clean the bathroom mirrors, floors & counter tops
• Vacuum at the last possible second.
• Sweep the floors at the last possible second after that.
• Make the children sit in the car while you finish up preparing food, staging areas, etc...

Now if you are like me, you will continue preparing for your party long after the guests arrive.  You may stop for a beer or a hard lemonade, but for the most part you will be a blur, running back and forth between the kitchen and the outdoor food tables with serving spoons, shredded cheese and that corn bread you forgot to serve until it was too late.  At some point, after most of the guests have come and gone, you will get to sit down and enjoy what is left of your party until...

When the Party is Winding Down

• Save the food!  If you really want to do a dis-service, you will sit around lazily while all those tasty left-overs rot away on the food tables.  This will also provide fodder for the skunk family that lives nearby so instead of leaving it all out, put it away before it's too late.  I recommend Ziploc bags for easy and quick storage.  If you're smart you will wash the dishes.  If you're me you will ask a friend to wash the dishes.

The Next Day

• In order to avoid being thought of as "those neighbors",you probably should pick up all of the bottles left around your yard.  You should gather up any left over house guests and encourage them to help with clean up efforts while you have their attention.  It helps if you have leftover meat that you can grill up for them to eat an early lunch before they set out on their way.
• Vacuum again (it may be painful to vacuum twice in two days, but you really must do it anyway unless you want chocolate cupcakes permanently squished into your carpet.

     The aftermath of a good party is kind of like taking off a girdle after your wedding.  Just let it all loose.  No one's opinion matters anymore.  So even though everything in your house was thoroughly cleaned, it won't take long for that thick layer of dust and grime to reappear.  Those familiar stains will reappear on your freshly shampooed carpet, along with friendly new stains.  Plus, now all the toys will be completely mixed up and strewn around the house- back to normal, right?  Three weeks later, you'll finally get around to taking down the Tiki torches in the backyard, emptying out the kiddie pool and taking the cereal boxes out your bedroom and back onto the kitchen counter.  It's okay, the coast is clear; until you start thinking about how fun it would be to have a Halloween Party in October...