I had the fun privilage to speak to a group of moms with young children yesterday at Mountainview MOPS (shout-out!).  We talked about some of the challenges of feeding a family (ya know, now that you’re the mom and all).  Something that I didn’t get a chance to cover was the joy of cooking when you have little people clutching your knees.  Here are some tips and tricks on how to cook dinner with babies and toddlers underfoot:

1)      Start meal prep EARLY if you can.  Chop, measure out ingredients, set out the stuff you’ll need.  Even putting the pot of water on the stove with the lid on it to start for pasta later is so much easier to do at naptime then with a baby clutching your leg.  Also, crockpot cooking is fabulous.

2)      Have a baby-safe cabinet that is only available when you are in the kitchen.  A collection of pots, plastic bowls and wooden spoons make a great toy box.  If it is only available (unlocked) during meal prep or cleanup, it will likely last longer as a distraction.  Alternately, a box full of safe kitchen tools and such that you can pull out of a cabinet or closet works, too.

3)      Put your toddler’s play kitchen in or near the kitchen.  Narrate what you are doing and ask them questions about what they are doing.  Taste their creations and have them taste yours.  This is also a great idea if you have a kid who is cautious about new foods.  It gives them some input to the meal when mom says, ‘Do you think this needs more seasoning?’

4)      This may be the time of day you bribe, er—ask–an older child to play with the baby.  It helps if they play in the baby’s room and not in a room right off the kitchen.  My older kids were always afraid they would be on ‘baby duty’ forever, so I’d set the timer for 10-20 minutes, depending on the age of my older kid.  A neighborhood kid can do the same job.  When my oldest was a toddler, I had a tween in the neighborhood who loved kids and showed up on my doorstep many evenings to take my little one to her house to play for half an hour.  God bless her mom who remembered what dinner prep was like and let her daughter do that!

5)      Let them help cook!  Even little toddlers can get the veggies out of the veggie drawer (one by one).  Have them change into their chef hat and apron first and wash their hands and you’ll have a couple extra minutes.  They can stir, count stuff out, be your errand boy or girl (hint: any errand that takes them out of the kitchen for a few minutes is a good errand, like checking on the fish or looking out the window to check the weather).

6)      Fill up the kitchen sink and have them ‘wash dishes’.  I found it helpful to put a towel on the edge of the sink so they didn’t drench themselves.

7)      This is a great time for a special activity or toy in their high chair—painting with water, Playdoh™, squishing shaving cream and a drop of food coloring around in a Ziploc™ bag, stirring ice cubes, etc.

8)      I am a big fan of a healthy pre-dinner ‘snack’.  I serve veggies (my kids love frozen peas or mixed veggies) or a small portion of yogurt.  As kids get older, a small portion of veggies with dip in their own bowl is great, too.  This is a terrific time to try out a food your child is not familiar with, too, as they are hungry but they don’t have the pressure of being at the table.  So put a piece of zucchini in with the carrot sticks.

9)       Stick a playpen or pack-n-play in the corner of your kitchen and plunk your little one in with a selection of toys.  Learning to entertain themselves is a skill and takes some time.  Start when they are infants if you can.  If not, start with just a few minutes and increase a minute a day until they can sit and play for a solid stretch (15 mins or more).  If your baby or toddler does ‘crib time’ or ‘room time’, this is a good time of day to do that, too, if they’re not too cranky.

10)      Judicious use of a DVD or TV.   Really.

11)       This is what take-out is for.  If it’s a really difficult day, shake out the piggy bank and call for pizza.

What works for you?

© 2010, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

I haven't used duct tape. Yet.

This is one of those things that will solve itself by the time your kid is about 7 or 8 (’cause all their friends will finally think it’s gross).  But if you can’t wait that long (*shudder* and who can?), how do you get a kid to quit picking their nose?

This was not my original idea.  I first saw it when I was a teen and I recall making a mental note to remember it if I ever had kids.  It’s that good.

Kids generally start sticking their finger up their nose as a toddler when they first discover that their finger fits perfectly.  But it’s not until about preschool age that they find out that sometimes, the digging is rewarded.  And their off…

Enter the brilliant parent who showed me this trick.  His 4 year-old daughter had a finger wrapped in tape.  When I asked about the owie, he calmly stated that she had a little bit of a problem with keeping her finger out of her nose.  With tape on it, her finger wouldn’t fit up her nose.  Bril.liant.  Problem solved.

I am using this trick on my 3rd child, and I have found that it does not matter what kind of tape you use (I’ve used clear tape, masking tape and medical tape.  Also, a bandaid in a pinch.).  Nor does it matter which direction you wrap the finger (over the top or around it).  Either way works just as well.  Keep it on for as long as you want–even 10 minutes seems to get the point across to Lady Bug.

And yes, you do probably need to tape all their digging fingers of choice at the same time.

(Did you miss my first post on boogies? You’d think I have some sort of problem with them.  Oh, well, yeah…)

© 2010, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

When we couldn’t find a good website that did a content review of kid’s books, we decided to start our own!  Okay, it didn’t go quite that smoothly….it was 3 years ago when we started.  Casey learned how to program in at least two other languages and this is actually the third rendition of the site.

But, I think we’re finally on our way!  I’d love for you to take a look at it and let me know what you think!  We’re adding books daily, but let me know if there’s a book you’d like reviewed.

Head to:  bookalachi.com  (pronounced book-uh-LA-chee)  :)  Click on ‘about us’ for more info on starting the website!

© 2010, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

Terrific Tips! On Tuesday! Cause it starts with a ‘T’!

Have a toddler or preschooler who is afraid of thunder? We happened upon this little trick the other night when our (nearly) 3 year-old became very frightened of the thunder (again). In trying to explain to her that thunder is just a loud sound and that loud sounds can’t hurt you (we thought she was a bit young to talk about sound waves), I clapped.

After that, every time we started to hear thunder, we all clapped and cheered and the thunder would stop (or, so it seemed to the toddler). She was too busy having fun and laughing at us all being silly to be afraid. We just had to start clapping as soon as we started to hear it and she would laugh and clap along. Much better then the crying and shrieking that the thunder was ’scary’.

Anyway, a little tip to help your child. If anyone has a solution to thunderstorms RIGHT AT BEDTIME, let me know. [Ever wonder WHY thunder makes noise? Click here for a good explanation or here for a short video.]

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

You know when your child latches on to that ONE VERY SPECIAL blanket or toy? The kind they cannot sleep without? The ONE VERY SPECIAL thing that helps them when all else fails?

You are gonna need a back up. Trust me. (Sunshine, at age 10, still talks about the blanket that somehow got LOST at a rest stop in Arizona from when she was 4). (A cotton yellow Carter’s baby blanket, edged in white and yellow gingham, little bunny in the corner, circa 1999, ya know, in case you ever find one).

When you’re kid selects that ONE VERY SPECIAL item, IMMEDIATELY go buy another one. If you delay, the store will STOP selling them, and the manufacturer will stop making them. Most likely about 12 hours before you finally get to the store to get the spare.

And then you’ll be forced to comb eBay for HOURS, trying to find it. I remember with Sunshine and her special puppy, the store didn’t sell them anymore. I walked into some Christmas craft fair about a year later and a lady had the exact dog as a decoration on her display. I nearly ploughed through the whole thing to get the dog. I would have offered her anything for it. Thankfully, she did sell it to me and I began the great “luvey switch-out”.

Which is where our story begins today and why I am sitting on a stuffed animal to get it to look slightly flattened like it’s luvey twin for daughter #3. She had originally picked another stuffed animal for her luvey, but it was cruelly stolen by a piece of poop human being when it fell out of her stroller un-noticed (for the record, I was not the POD-parent on duty at the time. Ahem). We found them still being sold on Amazon, but we didn’t remember exactly what size it was and ordered a slightly smaller version. Well, Lady Bug could tell immediately and that toy was set aside. She chose a new luvey (that she named Sparky) and I bought a back up right away.

Here’s where things started to go wrong. When the box arrived with the backup Sparky, I hid Original Sparky (OS) and whipped out Backup Sparky (BS-um, yes). I forgot the first CRITICAL step in the great luvey switch-out—to make them actually look like twins.

1) You MUST secretly inspect the OS and the BS, altering their appearances to match. That meant snipping some mouth and foot threads, squishing, and generally roughing it up. Clearly, the longer your child has had the OS, the more work it will take to make the BS look like it. When I handed Lady Bug the BS she said, “Who is this?” “Look, it’s Sparky! All washed!” I said enthusiastically. To which she said, “That’s not Sparky.” And laughed and walked off. I should mention she was only 2.5yrs when this transpired. Kids are smart little boogers.
2) Try washing them together so they get a similar smell and texture. Also, rubbing BS on concrete seemed to help. Rough up edges, duplicate stains—bring your best con game. Feel it where your child usually carries it and see if you need to pay special attention to squishing or roughing up that part so it feels the same.
3) I have had more success switching luvey’s in the middle of the night. Switch them out every few weeks if you can, so they age about the same, performing the same visual inspection.
4) YOU.MUST.HIDE.THE.BACKUP very carefully!! I had one kid find the backup and while she stood there perplexed as to why her luvey wasn’t where she had left it, I sprinted to the original and stuffed it in my clothes. Yeah, that wasn’t pretty.
5) DO.NOT.EVER.ADMIT that the backup is NOT the original. Or your child will never trust you again. You can see why getting the toys or blankets to look the same is critical—you don’t want to lie to your child, so make sure the question never comes up.

Well, I’m off to stomp on a stuffed dog and smoosh it into the pavement for that well-loved look.

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

I hadn’t meant to potty-train Lady Bug. Well, let me re-state that, I hadn’t meant to *re-start* potty-training her before our big road trip this week. Let me catch you up…

We started potty-training way back in December when she was just shy of being 2.5. I actually had no interest in potty-training her. In fact, I had high hopes that between me and her two sisters, she’d just figure it out on her own. HA! But she was displaying all the “readiness” signs and I figured that a “good mom” would put aside her own personal feelings of horror at the prospect of having to spend the next 6 months sitting on the edge of the tub, cheering on every bowel production with a little song, candy and stickers. Maybe occasional confetti and a parade…Clearly, I needed the “good mom” points.

So, I plied the child with copious beverages, put her in a sweater and naky buns and she and I spent a week locked in the hardwood portions of our home. While she had lots of accidents, she seemed to be getting it. Finally, on Day 4, I couldn’t stand being trapped in the house and we ventured out. This expanded my experience to spending LOTS of time dashing to bathrooms with “false alarms”, only to get to wipe out the shopping cart or wash the car seat later. Grr.

Months later, we were still working on it (mostly because I am a total pansy and caved to those lovely, lovely absorbent-and-easy-to-clean Pull-ups far too often). The day she stood there, and peed on the bathroom floor as I hurried to set her potty seat up finally un-did me. I needed to take a break or take up drinking for her and I to survive this experience.

So we took a break. For about two months. I figured after our travel this summer, I’d start again (with Preschool looming as the incentive for me to finally get it done). Then, a few weeks ago, I awoke with a start: vacation Bible school (i.e., a chance for the children to learn about Jesus and the mom’s to get a bit of a break!) started the next week. But she had to be potty-trained to go…this would be the first year all three girls could go….you see where I was going with this. When her chubby little feet hit the floor that morning, I whipped off her sagging diaper and told her that we were “all done diapers”.

Aside from a new morbid fear of automatic flushing toilets (Sorry! That was her screaming like I was killing her at Sam’s last week! Screaming kid echoes reach all the way to the snack aisle…as an FYI), we’re doing remarkably well. Apparently, all I needed was a little incentive.

Next up: How to survive a potty-training child and travel, without Pullups or alcohol…I think.

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

What is up with having no good pictures of just the mom? I recently spent waaaay too long trying to find a good shot of JUST ME. I searched all the way back to 2004 before I found one where you could see my whole face and that I could crop the kids out of. Is using a picture that is 5 years old considered cheating? I did have good hair that day…

But seriously–what is up with that? Doesn’t anyone want pictures of me? Me all by myself? Looking vaguely cute?

Apparently not.

But, you know, this isn’t just about me. I mean, it kinda is, but I noticed a trend as I searched years worth of pictures. Before we had kids, Darling took pictures of me. Pretty good ones. It seems that after Sunshine arrived, he lost the ability to take a decent shot of me. Either that, or I did actually look that bad. Hmm.

Once Pixie was of an age to have an opinion, she was in most every shot along with her sister. Poor little thing doesn’t have that many shots of just her. When Lady Bug arrived on scene, good luck getting a shot of ANYTHING that doesn’t include a kid streaking into the picture.

To be fair, I didn’t notice that many pictures of just Darling by himself (except the one I tried to take for his passport–which they couldn’t use because the background wasn’t white, as an FYI). He always appears in pictures with a child climbing or dangling off of him. Though, to be fair, those are a little easier to crop out.

Mommas–you have to hand the camera to someone else. And when they point it at you, don’t act like your soul is being stolen away. I have about 30 shots of the hand and swinging hair of my SIL, but not her actual face. Ya know, 100 years from now, she is going to ask why no one has any pictures of her.

Get some girlfriends together and have a photoshoot. You (and your family, and your Facebook page) need some good pictures of you. Just you. Your entire face. And not a face that has the side of someone else’s face cropped out.

Just sayin‘.

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

About a year ago, Darling and I discovered that our iPod is, quite possibly, our best friend. In fact, it’s maybe our entire family’s best friend. And not for the music.

I don’t know about you, but the prospect of taking a toddler on errands or on any non-toddler-specific outing can be, um, totally and completely TORTURE. Not that we don’t love Lady Bug (a lot!), but she is a total pain when she is forced to submit her little will to ANYONE ELSE IN THE UNIVERSE. Totally appropriate for development as a toddler, but a giant pain in the butt when it is not all about her. This is not shocking info for anyone, I know.

In desperation on a non-toddler-specific-outing with the family, we discovered iJoy. I think it was Darling’s idea to bring the iPod in with us to the mall one day, as he eyed a particularly wiggly and cranky toddler and our list of errands. The man is brilliant. Seriously brill.iant. We had used the iPod for long car trips and such, so we had some of Lady Bug’s fav cartoons on it.

Let me just tell say, you can get a lot done if you have Teletubbies on your iPod. I know, I know–putting that sort of abomination on a neat piece of technology is terrible…until you can shop in peace while the toddler sits happily in the stroller, her little headphones on. We’re happy, she’s happy, what’s not to love?

But, you protest, think of all the wonderful, mind stimulating opportunities the mall can offer a toddler! Think of the brain time they are missing while mom picks out a shirt that actually FITS, without having to grab 3 things to try on later at home. And then return. And what about all the verbal stimulation they are NOT getting while the parents don’t tell them (repeatedly), “Sit down!” “We’re almost done! “Quit grabbing things! These pretty/expensive/shiny things are all NO TOUCH.” “You want your binky/blanky/toy/sippy cup/$10 to quit making this miserable for us all?”

Well, if you have ever shopped with a toddler, you know.

Darling is brilliant. He whipped out the iJoy and plugged the kid in. Nearly instant peace and happiness. And Lady B was happy, too.

I was a little nervous about the public censure about using the Great Paralyzer in a mobile format. But you should see people’s reactions. People without children say, “Oh, how cute!” And smile. Probably because Lady Bug isn’t shrieking and ruining their shopping peace. People with children say, “That’s brilliant.” They look slightly dumbfounded that they hadn’t thought of it themselves and I know they are rushing home to download an episode of Dora the Explorer onto their own iPod.

There is the drawback of putting your beloved iPod in the hands of a fickle toddler–Lady Bug has pitched it over the side of her stroller on more then one occasion. But so far, it has survived. And at this point, it’s death would be seen as a worthy sacrifice for the family. And most of the metro area.

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

Here is a little Friday fun for you. This was one of the very first pieces I wrote, about 5 years ago. Enjoy!

The Poop in the Tub

With small children in the house, I look forward to certain daily events. Bath time is near the top of my list (only slightly down from naptime). I love the bubbles, the adorable bubble beards and hair, and the sweet smelling children. All that, and the fact that they are contained in one place for a bit make for a happy mommy moment.

One evening as the children were making bubble soup, my eldest suddenly yells, “Mom! Pixie pooped in the tub! There’s poop! She pooped! Eeeww!” I turned from getting clean towels and saw my oldest daugher, age 5, scrambling out of the tub and the E. coli infected water. Pixie, age 2, sat in the tub looking a little stunned.

I had absolutely no idea how to proceed from here. At this stage of parenting, you’d think that I would be well-prepared for most poop-related events. However, no one had ever told me about poop in the tub, and I had blissfully managed to avoid the experience with my older child. I stood frozen for a moment while my brain slowly processed this new experience. In a moment of clarity, I realized that I had a choice–I could react in a firm, but playful manner, discussing the importance of not pooping in the tub and calmly disinfect everyone and the 3000 toys that had found their way into the contaminated water. Or, I could shriek like a maniac who’d never seen poop before, pull the children to safety and proclaim loudly and frequently that we DO NOT poop in the tub.

I went with my gut. Shrieking, I grabbed the children, wrapping them in the clean towels (that would now have to be disinfected) and carried them to my non-poopy shower. My 5 year-old dramatically re-told the event the whole shower and Pixie still looked a little shell-shocked (perhaps due to my continual mantra that we DO NOT poop in the tub). After disinfecting the children, I drained the poopy tub and thoroughly washed my hands afterwards with a hospital-style scrub. I barred the door until the area was no longer a biohazard.
How does one get poop out of the tub without actually touching it? I had no idea. After multiple discarded plans (one of which was to wait until my husband came home to deal with the toxic waste situation–cowardly, I know), I decided that it was best to use a plentiful supply of toilet paper and just grab the (former) floaties. I did so, and went through a gag routine worthy of an Oscar (I wonder where the 5 year-old gets her dramatic side from). I have daily dealings with poop, but poop out of the diaper was a whole ‘nother country. After the de-contamination process was complete (on both children, the tub, and the toys in the tub–which I washed with bleach in the washing machine–can you do that?), I wondered if I had handled the situation well.

As a parent in the trenches, there is not a lot of time for deep introspection, and this situation did not call for a complex moral lesson. But I wonder if I missed an opportunity to see the poop in the tub as a chance to laugh with my children. I now have a 2 year-old who wears a swim diaper in the tub and states emphatically, “No, no poop in tub” every time she comes near the site of the disaster. Luckily, parenting provides constant opportunities for growth and improvement. I will think back to this adventure with the next unexpected event: like the one that happened today at naptime–can you say poop finger-painting?

© 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.

I was not a Girl Scout. My parents gave me the choice of that or ballet and what little girl wouldn’t pick ballet? Thus, I have not experienced the organization from the kid level.

Sunshine joined a troop with her very best friend in the universe when she was in 1st grade. The troop leaders are fabulous–I seriously don’t have the intrinsic motivation those two women have to wrangle the girls and plan amazing events for them to participate in.

As I write this, Darling is off at a GS event with Sunshine (and Pixie, as it is a family event). I am (happily) home with a napping Toddler.

As much respect as I have for the GS, I am pretty sure they are out to get me. I understand that they support girls and encourage them and such, but they are making this momma feel inadequate and irritated.

It’s that darn sash. And the stupid badges. Since I was never a GS (as mentioned above), I didn’t learn to sew (one of the very first badges Sunshine earned). I know enough to sew a button on in an emergency, but that’s about it. And, honestly, I have no desire to learn more.

Thankfully, I have a dear, dear MIL who doesn’t flinch when I hand her a little stack of mending occasionally. And, she doesn’t think I am a terrible wife and mother for not sewing. :)

Sunshine was supposed to be wearing her new sash to the event today. Not having enough time to pawn this off to my dear MIL, I resigned myself to having to stitch the dang things on. I set aside about 45 minutes to put them on. How long could this take? Just a couple of (bad) stitches here and there to hold them until MIL could use her machine thingy.

Imagine my joy when they were IRON ON! Woooooot! Now, even I can iron something on! Yay!

I got everything opened, carefully looked at the diagram where they tell mommies the specific order the badges are supposed to be placed in and started ironing. According to the directions, it should only take 2-3 minutes per badge. Woot! I started thinking of how I was going to spend my extra time as I ironed….

I ironed the first badge for the 25 seconds and started to flip it over to iron the back. Hmmm. Not stuck yet. Okay, well, I’ll keep ironing. And keep ironing. And keep ironing. Oh my heck! What gives? After many minutes, the darn things were NOT stuck on. I had one set on, but the American flag wouldn’t stick. I looked at the stack of emblems I still had to go and realized that SEWING the puppies on would’ve been faster than this! Argh! But, I won’t give up! Oh no, Girl Scouts of America cannot make me feel like an inadequate iron-on-er unless I let them. And darn it, I’m not gonna let them!

(Questions enter my mind, like: how much force can an ironing board take? And what would exactly happen if I didn’t use the little tea towel, but ironed directly on the embroidery (totally flouting their rules)).

I now have two things ironed on. I have used up my 45 minutes. I warn Sunshine that her sash won’t be complete. She comes into the room and checks out her sash. It doesn’t even have the full troop number (the stupid number “6″ wouldn’t stick!) She says, “I think I won’t wear my sash.” What? After all my efforts? I mean, I know it looks dumb, but come-on!

Sigh.

I am now looking for my hot glue gun, on the helpful suggestion of my sister. I wish I would’ve thought of that before.

Maybe they should have girls sew on their own badges as part of GS. That way, us mommies feel good about being a girl, too!

© 2008 – 2009, melissa caddell. All rights reserved. If you steal my stuff, I will also be really, really mad.