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Peanut Picnics #1

As long as the weather remains bearable, I will be taking my two favorite little Peanuts on a picnic every Tuesday night. My husband went back to school and has a night class that leaves us apart from the time I get home from work to the time I drop into bed. I thought it would be a fun idea to take my son and nephew to a new localle around town for each picnic. I’ve been making a mental checklist of places for awhile now. Last night, we hit the gazebo at a local park because it was on the verge of raining. See, I have a few “backup” places in mind too so the rain can’t stop us.

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I threw a few Lunchables in the bag for the kiddos and a sandwich for me and off we went.

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These two kids have such extremes in the hair department. One gets comments for his near-white albino-like hair and one gets compliments for his shiny copper top.

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After they were done eating, and we had shoo’d away the lone bee that wanted our juice, we made our way over to the nearby playground. Climbing the trees seemed like more fun than the slides!

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And blowing dandelions. I love how kids pick up on simple things like this. You show them once and they remember it for a lifetime. I mean, he had no idea about this simple childhood pleasure of dandelion-blowing until one day we were stuck in the backyard one day with nothing to do. Instant entertainment. Makes me think about all the wonderful I’d like to teach him.

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My basic requirements as a mother: keep those babies well-fed and happy. Here’s the evidence that I’m doing a fine job.

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Mental notes for next time:

1. Find a nice reusable tablecloth for the questionable picnic tables around town. This time, we made sure we kept everything on top of plastic baggies and Lunchable trays.

2. I’m still trying to find a cute old quilt to throw on the ground anywhere we decide to munch or hang out. We have an old off-white blanket that we use for the dog in the car, but I think I’d like something a little more memorable or whimsical.

3. Juice=Bee Catcher. Lets try chocolate milk or airtight water bottles next time.

Birthday Boys

Two weeks ago, my in-laws from Florida stayed with us for a week. It was so hard to see them go after my son became so close to both of them, especially his grandpa. With them being so far away, and our budget being constrained by tuition and other normal things, we don’t get to see them but maybe once a year. But we have some photos to hold us over until then. The best thing I can do for my son is to make him copies of these pictures and put together his very own picture album. We’ll go over the pictures from time to time and relive the moments so those memories don’t fade and he can hang onto that beautiful, sweet connection he had with his family.

Here he is being checked by Doctor Grandpa. We know their hearts are definitely dearly connected.

He and his grandma also shared special moments filled with teasing, goofing and laughter.

Until next time, we miss you deeply!

Voting is Just What We Do

In history-making fashion, my husband and I headed to the polls last night for the Wisconsin recall elections. According to an article in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal, there have been only 20 recalls like this since 1908 in the entire US. Wisconsin is holding 9 in just one month, fueled in part by a vote to strip government workers of their collective bargaining rights. There have been more campaigners at my door every single day this past month than there were for the last presidential election–and kind, non-pushy, polite ones at that. I am more than proud to say that I was a participant in this unprecedented event.

But more importantly, we took our three-year-old son along. He took in the scene from the school gymnasium with wide eyes and followed along with us so obediently, as if he knew something important was happening here necessitating his best behavior. The fact that there were only two people on the ballot made the voting process painless, but still… He was absorbing an event that was completely new to him, but something that we, as his parents, are determined to instill as completely normal activity. Voting is just what we do.

I grew up in a politically-apathetic house, where no one really voted or paid attention to elections until we were in high school and urged our mom to vote just so we could get extra credit points in social studies. The concepts of “the structure of the government” and “how a bill becomes a law” were foreign to me in school. And now, though I wouldn’t really call myself completely politically-inclined, I still take my right to vote very seriously and do what research I can at election time. I firmly believe that the actions of one person are crucial. And just like with working out, I want my son to see voting as something routine, just a natural thing, so he might be more inclined to take a proactive role in his own life and that of his country when he’s all grown up.

Wait, I didn’t say that. He’s going to be my little baby forever!

Banning Children

Ok. I get it. Some kids could potentially derail your plans to have a nice quiet dinner away from home. But what’s the deal with the new trend and enthusiasm for banning kids?

Looking at this strictly from a constitutional standpoint, isn’t this a complete and utter example of age discrimination? I mean, I like to get away from my son once in awhile for adult time too, but I certainly don’t like the idea of his rights to enter a public building being stripped away. Especially because of someone else’s lifestyle choice to remain kid-free. I respect that lifestyle choice, but I do not think it constitutes a right to shun someone else’s. Isn’t this the equivalent of putting up signs that, say, people of a certain color are not allowed in an establishment? Let’s blow the entire structure our country was founded upon because someone finds it grating when a child whimpers.

It always made me seethe inside when I was in high school, and the nearby gas station put up signs up that said only three students were allowed to enter the convenience store at a time. And then the owners would watch you like a hawk. This is a small town in WI, mind you. Either way, it’s discriminatory. If you look younger than 18, you automatically hold a scarlet letter that says “most likely to steal” or “most likely to ruin your dinner.” Highly discriminatory.

It’s such a shame that young people are becoming the victims of this modern stigmatization, this new round of sheer discrimination.

I want to go there too!

We were visiting my grandma when it happened. From the bookshelf at the assisted living facility where she lives, I pulled a book with breathtaking photographs of wild animals in their natural habitats. My almost-3-year-old was mesmerized by the book for a good 15 minutes–which is quite amazing in itself, considering he isn’t inclined to sit still for an entire minute at a time. I was having fun explaining where the animals lived, making up stories about what they were doing and even counting “heads.” Grandma was just beaming watching her great-grandson delight in the images.

Then, the blue-eyed boy looked at me with the deepest, most pure longing and said “I go this place?” He wanted with all his heart to visit the places in the book. Those stark majestic mountains, crystal-blue untouched waters, and wild animal-populated grasslands. This brings back memories of the binder I kept as a young girl with all the collectible wildlife information cards. I can clearly see the attic door that I decorated with pictures of decadent waterfalls, stark cabins and lush rainforests cut from National Geographic. And I get a little lighthearted thinking about the longings I had to join Swiss Family Robinson or Hatchet on their wilderness quests. Oh honey, I want to go there too!

In the meantime, I might have to find him some National Geographics, buy him a “Nature Songs” CD or subscribe him to Ranger Rick. But that will have to be after I put together a “penny jar” for our dream vacation in the wilderness. And maybe we can kidnap grandma for awhile to take her there too. She would just love it!

What a Nightmare

My little bambino has been mighty sick lately. He’s on his way to the doc right now. But the thing that concerns me most is his apparent nightmare two nights ago. I mean, the Lion King hyenas are a little scary and sometimes daddy watches something questionable, but it seems odd that a child with a pretty limited vocabulary and teeny tiny set of experiences could have such a harrowing nightmare that he picked his way in complete darkness to our bedside. He usually doesn’t leave his bed until someone goes to get him. Finding him whimpering next to my bed was probably just as scary to me as it was to him to have such a nightmare, because it just kills me when he experiences such angst. Poor little guy.

So, knowing me, I had to Google “toddler nightmares” the next day because I had no idea how to approach this uncharted territory. I don’t like to just ignore seemingly arbitrary things like this and I’m all about making things better for my family. The best advice I found is to ask your toddler briefly what’s going on, and then change their thoughts. Go downstairs and get a glass of milk and read them another story. I like to check for monsters and pretend to eat them if the little guy suspects there are any lurking under his bed. This seems to reassure him. But there’s nothing worse than being short with a toddler, so a little empathy and back-stroking go a long way. We now have a night light for his room and leave his door open so that he feels more secure.

There’s a lot of irony with being a parent. While we’re busy reassuring our little people that everything is OK, we’re secretly worrying about upcoming bills, strange vehicle sputters, the health of our elders, our work relationships, and then some. Those petty nightmares seem to pale in comparison to real encounters with death and poverty. However, it is because of a toddler’s lack of experience that those worries derived from nightmares feel just as potent as our biggest adult fears. It really puts things into perspective, as they say.

This incident also provides a lesson in thought re-patterning. I like the idea of acknowledging bad feelings and then redirecting thoughts to other more pleasant and productive things. In the real world, empathy and active listening go a long way too. It’s amazing what you can learn from raising a child. More and more, these experiences reiterate the things I’ve learned in my own life.

This is also a lesson in the active imaginations of children. When we think they’re not looking or paying attention, they’re really actively absorbing more than we realize. We’re going to have to be much more proactive about screening our television and word choices. My husband and I might just have to start playing the quarter game pretty soon too. Our potty mouths might get us into trouble one of these days…

Singing Lessons

I have an endearing story about my dad singing to my sisters and me when we were babies. He would just repeat Silent Night over and over because that was the only song he knew all the words to. He wasn’t that much of a hands-on dad when it came to discipline (unless we were bothering him specifically) or day-to-day affairs, but he sure loved his girls. Especially when we were all cuddled into his arms about to fall asleep. Awwwwwww. I don’t quite remember this but I certainly appreciate the stories and the devotion.

I, of course, sing to my son the requisite “Hush Little Baby” and “Twinkle Twinkle” but am in the market for a new tune. I was just listening to an updated version of Amazing Grace and hadn’t even thought of that one! Swing Low Sweet Chariot. I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing. Sweet Child of Mine. Landslide. I am totally missing some good tunes! I need to get listening and bolster my playlist.

Creating Peace at Home


images courtesy of AarinFreePhoto.com

Ask me what’s wrong with the medical system I’ve been dealing with lately, and I can list off dozens of things and their myriad of negative effects. Ask me what’s going right in my home, and I’ll be stumped to give any examples. This is when you know something is off-kilter.

In an effort to find my way back to Optimistic, a friend I’ve been avoiding like leprosy, I’ve decided to force myself to feel grateful, hoping that that old adage that if I act happy I’ll be happy really works. And I have lots of hope that it does.

1. Singing someone to sleep
2. Foundational faith
3. Fresh scents
4. Inspiring colors
5. New green growth
6. Gratitude from someone else
7. Connections with depth
8. Giving old things new life
9. Skipping unabashedly
10. Sticky lollipop fingers: these can either be seen as a complete nuisance or a sign of completely immersing oneself in a sweet experience. I choose the latter.
11. A scrubbed-clean home
12. Colorful glass in the windows
13. A checked-off to-do list
14. Advice and encouragement from someone who knows, really knows
15. Central air, electricity, a steady job and creature comforts
16. A brand-new SUV that looks so “me”
17. An abundance of ideas and creative spirit
18. Discovering a new magazine: Living Crafts Magazine. Now, I’m not the bead, scrapbook, fake wreath type of crafter. I was looking for something modern, nature-inspired, inspiring in itself, and do-able and this is it!
19. Two little boys, one with amazing blue eyes and the other with shiny copper penny hair, splashing away in a kiddie pool
20. Discovering a new radio station that never bores: The Avenue.

Oh, and the Perseids. I almost forgot. I need to get out there tonight and see if I can see any last stragglers because I forgot to last night.

I’ll Order My Table Old-Fashioned

It seems like a novelty, like a Norman Rockwell painting. Like something that can’t be managed or isn’t taken very seriously. But having dinner together at the kitchen table is more crucial than most people imagine.

First, the dinner table forges a sense of connection. When the entire family is sitting together in one place, instead of eating in separate rooms or vehicles, they get a chance to talk and review their days. There’s no interference from the television or other outside distractions. The parents are also providing evidence to their kids that this family connection is more important than anything else (work, piling laundry, etc). The focus is completely on the family and everyone in it. Everyone has their place in the family.

Second, because there are no distractions, each person is also able to focus more on what they’re eating so they don’t stuff more in their mouths than when hypnotized by The Bachelor. Studies show you’re more likely to overeat when you eat while distracted. You naturally take more time and become mindful of what you’re eating at the table.

Third, studies show that children who regularly eat at the dinner table will be less likely to use drugs and alcohol, be less stressed, get better grades and eat better. Seriously, this one simple thing can have the most profound life-altering effect.

Fourth, everyone eats better. If you’re at the dinner table, the dinner is more than likely made at home which more than likely means it’s healthier than what you’d find at the drive-through or restaurant table. Servings usually aren’t dished in heaving portions (well, maybe at Christmas) allowing everyone to stop eating when they’re actually full, not when they’ve gotten their $10.99-worth. I did read somewhere that people who eat around the table are more likely to be healthy and in shape as well, perhaps as a result of healthy eating.

Fifth, the dinner table provides one of the most effectual places for parents to teach their children about manners. Whether teaching about table manners (don’t talk with your mouth full, please help your brother clear the table) or social graces (shake Mr. Adams hand) in general, the dinner table can be the cornerstone of etiquette training.

Sixth, for a young child, the kitchen table is a wonderful starting place for teaching them how to sit still and providing them with other basic discipline (it’s not polite to kick Johnny, don’t leave the table until you’re excused). This basic training will then carry over to church pews and restaurant tables where screaming, wiggly, milk-spewing children are not necessarily condoned.

Seventh, along those same lines, dinner at the table provides a crucial sense of routine for smaller children. Something they can rely on. Every parent knows that routine is the basis of cooperation with toddlers and provides a sense of stability with older children.

Eighth, the dinner table allows you the chance to demonstrate to your children what healthy eating habits look like. Vegetables aren’t gross, we don’t need to hide in a closet to eat, a pile of crackers is not a dinner, it’s not shameful to eat a bite of cake once in awhile, and it’s worth it to try new things.

Ninth, the preparation of the meal is a wonderful opportunity to offer your children a sense of responsibility. When they get to mix the cookie batter, stir the meat, or time the noodles, they’re learning exactly what preparing a meal entails and how to succeed in life. They’ll be much more self-sufficient as adults and hold their responsibilities in high regard when they learn how to prepare their own food at a young age.

One of the safest places in the world is at the dinner table. Let’s eat!

The Loss of a Much-Smaller Child

I participated in a mourning ceremony yesterday. Wait, wait…no one died, thank heavens! But it was a mourning ceremony nonetheless. I went through my son’s clothes from this past year and brought out all the new 24-month/2T stuff (whatever the heck the difference is). Some of my favorite little outfits went to the thrift store pile. Only a few pieces made their way to the attic for that just-in-case incident that another little fellow would join our family. As I went, the pj’s got a little longer, shirts got a little wider and shoes took up more space in the top drawer. While I don’t need to hang on to four bottle of Desitin, especially since potty training is in the works, I have a really hard time putting them in the donate pile when I really still want to be able to use them.

Hunched over for two hours organizing and purging that tiny little wardrobe not only did a number on my physical body, it also affected my store of momma emotions. That minuscule sweep of time from chubby thighs to long, stringy legs; that span of time between immobility and unstoppable energy; that wisp of time that carries the needy infant to the self-sufficient toddler passes nearly without notice until you’re caught off-guard eliminating that tiny-hood from your mind and home.

A mom must really prepare herself for that constant evolution. She must steel herself against that trap of continuously feeling loss that she could let herself fall into. But she must also revel in those miraculous moments where she notices that something she had a tremendous part in creating is truly thriving and all those doubts about having a healthy child fall away.