Lots of people say they want to be writers. And this used to make me panic a bit, actually, because I wanted to be a writer and I figured if everyone was a writer, I’d never get any work.

What I discovered, however, is that lots of people say they want to write, but very, very few of them will ever do it.

Phew! (Not to be all about me, but just for a second…)

As with anything, wanting to do something is not actually the same as doing that thing. No, really, hear me out on this: writers write. One more time (in case you are caffeine-deprived): writers WRITE.  You know, write? As in, words? On paper? Or a screen?

I am still near the beginning of my writing journey (about 100 blog posts, ~90 other web articles, some magazine article publication, a self-published ebook under my belt). So I am still learning, clearly. But I have noticed that real, live writers do two things:

1)  They write. I wrote very badly at first (note: I did not mention my 55,000 word really, really bad first draft of a novel in my writing journey. Because it’s horrible. No, I mean it.) And I didn’t write about anything that was all that interesting to anyone, either. I started writing on my personal blog about three years ago. I can’t even look back at those first posts because I’ll cringe. (You can, if you want, just don’t tell me how much hope they bring you, ‘k?) But I wrote. I started writing one post a week. And as I had more ideas, I wrote things on YourHub.com and some pay-per-click places (which I’ve made about 73 cents on). 

Writing requires practice. It’s okay if it’s terrible at first.  Let me re-phrase that; it will probably be terrible at first, so just get that part overwith. Blogging is one of the best ways I’ve seen to develop your own style and voice, so I recommend you start with that.

2) Writers hang out with other writers. Wait, let me amend that; published writers hang out with other writers. I started going to a local writing group LONG before I called myself a writer. In fact, it took a couple of published articles and attending the group off and on for two years before I could stutter out the words “I’m a writer”.

Writers tend to be fairly solitary critters. I think it’s because we are talking in our heads all the time and feel like live people are an interruption of the story or article going on internally. But how on earth are you going to learn about writing and publishing and how to normalize your feelings of “I write drivel! Pointless, crappy drivel! That no one will want to read!” Every writer feels that way, but you would know that if you went to a writing group. No one understands writers better than writers. Even if you have a fabulous person in your life who lets you talk through your really, really, really terrible story, they aren’t going to move you forward and improve your writing like other writers will.

If you want to write, you are meant to do it. You have a story to tell that the world needs to hear; whether it is on a blog, or in your local newspaper, or in a novel. If you want to write, write. And hang out with others who write, too.

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

Look! Scissors that can be found!

I can still remember rolling my eyes a bit when my mom would be all up in my face about using something of hers a) without asking and b) without returning it.

Seesh. Weren’t they SUPPOSED to be used? Not sitting in a drawer, well-organized all day? It seemed a teensy-weensy bit over the top, in my kid opinion. I mean, honestly, I just borrowed them for a minute (which turned into days when I didn’t put them back) and they were just scissors!

But now, I know. They are never ‘just scissors’. They are the good scissors. The ones that are sharp enough to cut anything without hassle. And the ones that the mommy always knows where they are (which is why they get borrowed—no one can find the other 11 pairs of household scissors). The mommy uses them and she puts them back. Where.they.belong.

Then, NotMe borrows them, or her sister IDidntDoIt, and Mommy never finds them again.
Which leads to me getting all up in my kids’ faces to explain how we DON’T.TOUCH.MOMMY (dearest)’s.THINGS.WITHOUT.ASKING.

This is how items get attacked by the label maker with labels like “Property of Mom” or “Do NOT Touch! Yes, this means YOU!”

When, oh, when did I become this mother? The one who wanted to find her stuff? And in good condition? And where she left it?

No touchy my stuffy. Thankseversomuch.
Love, Your Totally Unreasonable Mom

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

I am so excited to announce the publication of my first eBook! What started as a much-requested speaking topic has evolved into a 40-page eBook. There was just more to talk about than an hour would allow. :)

I have always been interested in food-what we eat, why we eat what we do. As the person incharge of meals in my home, I made an effort to learn and to be intentional about food. My background in human biology and public health made me even more aware of how food impacts our lives long-term. It was a journey over several years as I researched, learned and applied it to our family’s busy life. This book came about when friends and other moms saw how I planned meals and heard me talk about nutrition. I have been planning meals for years and I had a good system that only took a few minutes. Moms kept asking questions and I kept doing research. When organic foods became a hot topic , I looked into what was fact and what was fiction. As I became more intentional about nutrition, I gathered information and implemented what made sense and what was practical for a real mom, in a real life.

In Meals: the art and science of feeding your family (made really simple!), we’ll talk about the most common concerns moms have about food:

1) Nutrition—you only need to remember 4 things for you and your family to have good nutrition.
2) Organic food—what’s fact and what’s fiction and how it impacts your budget.
3) Young ‘uns—feeding babies and toddlers. Food adventure!
4) Menu planning—a system that’s easy to implement and use in a real life.
5) Coupons—don’t worry, it’s not what you think! Who has time to clip and organize? But there is money to be saved without a lot of time and effort if you want to.
6) Art—the emotional side of food. Because food isn’t just food. Includes tips on what NOT to do as you focus on better nutrition for your family (hint: it involves keeping the Oreos™)
7) Picky pants—yes, this topic requires its own section. Thoughts and tips to move beyond being a short-order cook and helping your kid become a more adventurous eater.

Want more info? Take a sneak peek at the Table of Contents.
Ready to buy it? Click here!

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

I experience Mother’s Day like most mom’s–flowers, handmade cards, breakfast in bed (usually Cheerios).  Lot’s of love and extra hugs and appreciation.

But here’s the problem:  I kinda hate Mother’s Day.  (I recognize that this is an anti-American sentiment and am prepared for the backlash against all things apple-pie, but hear me out on this.)

Before I was a mom
Before I was the mom, I would be sure to call the appropriate moms in my life and thank them for their year of service.  I’ve had different mom-types in my life; from my mom, my stepmom, moms-in-law, and an older sister who functions very much like a mom to me.  Even after my mother died, I still had plenty of people who filled that role in my life to thank.

And then I was a mom
My first Mother’s Day was, uh, underwhelming to say the least.  I was due with our first child within a few weeks, and apparently, the 9 months of care and concern and research and concern and eliminating things from my life and concern…..well, it didn’t occur to my dear bemused husband that I was a mother yet.  No one wished me a Happy Mother’s Day until an old lady at church did.  To which Darling looked slightly surprised and muttered in passing, ‘Oh, yeah, Happy Mother’s Day”.  Not that I’m bitter. 

With all my kids now exterior, I’ve had various seasons of Mother’s Day.  From the ‘I need a freakin’ day AWAY from you people!’ and ‘Can’t I PLEASE just sleep in ONE DAY A YEAR!’ to ‘Wow, uh, thanks for the non-existent effort to honor me….no, really, I’ll fix lunch.’  Not that my family doesn’t make an effort to make the day special (’cause they do), but there’s a lot of expectation built up around Mother’s Day.  How much honor is enough?  Do we have to honor all day or just until after brunch?  Can we still have a playdate?

Part of my problem is that there are times when I feel like I am a horrible mother, and Mother’s Day just makes it worse.  I hate those ‘World’s BEST Mom!’ cards.  ‘Cause, ya know what?  There are days I don’t like much about mothering and those stupid cards just make me want to hurt someone at Hallmark.  Why don’t ya just pour some salt in there while you’re at it?

And then there is the part of me that is sad for woman I know who aren’t moms–either by choice or by circumstances.  I feel a bit awkward about being honored as a mom when they aren’t honored in other ways that celebrate them.  If you have a friend who has struggled to get pregnant or lost a baby, you know what I mean.  I want to tell them all the ways I think they rock and I am sad that Mother’s Day feels a little…exclusive.

This year, I am especially thoughtful because my sister-in-law just passed away, leaving 4 grown children and her newborn grandbaby to face this day without her.  I think of the mother of her grandchild and the bitter sweetness of her first Mother’s Day–as a mom and as mourning her mother.

I think that lots of moms feel the way I do–that in a good year, you don’t really want the praise Mother’s Day brings, and in a bad year, you feel like you don’t deserve it.  And then there’s the sense that we are leaving some of our darling friends and family members out of the club.

Maybe we could just have Woman’s Day.  And then I could go to the mountains with my girlfriends and sisters and we could celebrate all the women in our lives, no exceptions.

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

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.

Interestingly, I thought I had conquered most of my issues with being, well, uh, ’submissive’ (*shudder*). Clearly, not so.

When we got married, I actually changed our vows so that I wouldn’t have to say ‘love, honor, and obey’ to ‘love, honor and cherish’.  Cherish, I could do.  Obey?  Hello?  What century are we in?

Yes, I get that even businesses need the one person to lead, to take the authority, to be the final answer.  Really.  I get it.  Kinda.

It was just that being raised in the 70’s and 80’s…well, I just didn’t get why my husband got to be the leader. 

God worked on me (as he tends to do when I am wildly wrong about something), and over the years, I started to figure out what being submissive meant, more or less.  It kinda grated on me, though, the whole idea of being under Casey’s authority.  I mean, who made him the leader?  (I can hear the more spiritually mature wives either chuckle at this or shake their heads at me.)

I liked the part about it where Casey was going to have to answer to God about stuff, and I liked that he was responsible for decisions and the outcome of those.  And I guess I mostly worked with it because I didn’t disagree with him on big decisions much.

Until now.  I had a moment yesterday when I flat out told him I wasn’t going to do something he thought we should do (in regards to our kids’ schooling).  It felt awful and selfish and, well, awful.  I can’t ever remember openly defying him like that in 15 years of marriage.  And I know he’s right, I just don’t like it.  His choice requires personal growth on my part and I am not a fan of personal growth cause it’s painful and has no guaranteed outcome (unlike birth, where you at least get a cute baby at the end).

I thought I had come so far on the submitting thing, but it turns out I haven’t.  I still cringe when I hear sermons about it in church, and even just hearing the word ’submit’ gives me a bugs-crawling-all-over-my-skin feeling.  So, it seems that I may have a grasp on it mentally, but it hasn’t fully made it’s way into my heart.  Ugh.

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

We took our first trip in almost 11 years that didn’t involve a stroller.

I just don’t know what to think about that.  For the first time since child rearing began for us in 1999, everyone in our group could feed, dress, wipe, and cart themselves around.

Our littlest daughter, Lady Bug, age 3 ½ , has gone from being a toddler to being a kid.  In a blur, of course.  Over the past year or so, each trip has seen the loss of a ‘baby item’ off her packing list.  No more diapers, baby monitor, binky, potty seat, toddler utensils, sippy cups.  We’ve even stopped worrying about a change of clothes.  And now, the stroller.

Oh, the places we’ve gone with a stroller in the last 11 years—walks around the neighborhood, vacations to see family, the beach, the mountains, all things Disney, the museum, the zoo.  Even trips just to the grocery store were made easier (for our kids and us) by having a familiar place to contain and transport babies.  And then there are the other millions of things our strollers have held besides little kids—shopping bags, diaper bags, all the family’s coats shoved into the little basket or draped over the top.  Oftentimes, little ones have used it much less on an outing than our family’s paraphernalia has. 

As I packed the car this last time, I pulled the stroller out and thought, `I don’t think we’ll need the stroller.’  At first, it was just a space necessity.  But as I tucked it into a spot in the garage I thought, `Huh, we haven’t used it in a long time.  Maybe we’re done with it.’

What a sad thought that was, in a way, to not need a stroller any more.  ‘Cause that means that there aren’t any babies or toddlers at our house.  It means the tiny sweet humans who have occupied those stroller seats for so many years are, well, growing up.

It’s the end of an era.  We’re putting babyish things behind us.  Oh, I’m not quite ready to give that stroller away yet, but it’s not because anyone here needs it.  Well, maybe I need to see it—not to mourn the loss of babyhood so much, but as a monument to what has transpired in our lives.  Eleven years is a long time to need one piece of gear.  And, really, negotiating any outing without a stroller is much easier.  I think of all the doors, stairs, small spaces, and crowds that have been frustrating with a stroller.

But, oh, what stories our strollers could tell.

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

Knowing CPR can make you smiley, too! :)

Do you have an American Red Cross story to tell? Maybe you’ve donated blood. Or taken a CPR class. Or been grateful someone else did.

I’ve used skills I gained in an American Red Cross class twice, and been poised to several other times. Even though I’ve been scared each time, I was so glad I knew how to do SOMETHING in those situations. There is nothing worse than seeing someone in a critical moment and standing by helplessly. It’s awful.

The first time I chanted ‘Airway, Breathing, Circulation’ (the ABC’s of First Aid I learned years ago) was in a restaurant. A toddler started choking on a piece of candy the family had grabbed as they exited. I was just coming in and saw the moment it went from `she’s okay’ to `oh my God’. I’m pretty sure I did everything wrong, looking back. It was like it all went into slow motion. I took her from her parents and tried to sweep the candy out of her mouth first. When that didn’t work, I turned her over, angled her slightly upside down over my arm and whacked her back. That dislodged the candy and I was able to sweep the candy out. It still makes me a bit shaky to this day how fast it all happened. I handed the girl back to the parents without a word exchanged. I often wonder why they let me just take their daughter from them. I didn’t say anything to the parents—I think you are supposed to say `I know First Aid, do you need help’ or something official sounding like that.

The second time everything I didn’t know about First Aid rushed through my head was when I happened upon what I thought was a car accident. It was actually a man having a heart attack and his wife had steered the car to the shoulder of the road when he lost consciousness. I was the first person on the scene who had any training, so with the help of some guys that had stopped, we got the man out of the car. I felt freaked out at the prospect of actually performing CPR on someone. I was trying to determine if he actually needed CPR by listening for a heartbeat and assessing his breathing when a nurse showed up on scene. I was happy to hand off my Red Cross pocket mask to her.

And then there is the time my child choked on food, sitting right at the kitchen table. After trying to cough and not be able to, I saw the panic cross her face as she realized she was choking. It was horrible. Horrible. Luckily, she cleared the bite without my help. But what if she couldn’t have? I don’t know that I would’ve done it perfectly, but I’m very glad that I would’ve known enough to probably save her life.

Most people (especially parents) want to know basic First Aid. But our lives get busy and (thankfully) our day to day activities don’t call for life-saving skills. But what if you did know enough to help someone? What if you were scared and nervous, but you were the person that knew at least something to do, instead of watching helplessly in a situation where the knowledge of a few basic skills would make a difference?

If you would like to learn First Aid, CPR, or even know a babysitter-aged kid who would like to take the Red Cross Babysitter course, the American Red Cross is offering a discount to classes in the Denver area. Click to go to the Mile High Chapter of the Red Cross to look at course listings and sign up. Enter the code ‘BLOGGER’ to receive a 15% discount on classes!

There is never going to be a perfect time to take it in a busy life. And you’ll never regret having the knowledge you will gain from a course. But you may be very glad someday that you do.

Do you have a Red Cross story to share? Leave a comment, or better yet, post it on your blog and leave a link in the comments here. Feel free to share the discount code with your readers!

(Photo courtesy of PhotoXpress.com)

© 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.

We started adding organic food to our diet about a year ago.  It was pretty painful at first, to be honest.  But I felt that there were so many sources of bad things in our environment (you DO NOT want to know-ugh) I had no control over, I could at least control some of the bad things we were injesting.

The reason it was so painful to switch over to organic food was mostly because of cost.  It seems that organic food is grown with naturally occuring sticker shock.  Since the research has yet to provide a concrete cause and effect relationship with pesticides and human disease, it was hard to justify the additional expense.  (I remind myself that DDT was declared safe until the day it was banned.)  It just seems logical to me that eating substances that are meant to KILL living things (bugs, weeds, etc) are not healthy, especially for little growing bodies.  And I try very hard to remember that when I stand  in the store deciding between the 99 cent bell pepper and the $4 bell pepper.  And the $4 one don’t look as pretty as the 99 cent one, either.

So, I started small.  I used the Environmental Working Group’s Dirty Dozen list as a basis.  They list the foods that are the dirtiest (most pesticide residue) and the cleanest (least pesticide residue).  By just purchasing the ‘Dirty Dozen’ organically, it reduces a person’s pesticide exposure by a lot.  I made a bit of a leap and decided that processed foods should correspond–since apples were one of the most pesticide ridden foods, I decided that apple juice and things like apple sauce should be organic.  But tomatoes (which fall in the middle) and their products didn’t have to be.  (Research indicates that once peels have been removed, there is a lot less pesticide residue, so this is just my personal preference, not necessarily based on research).

One thing we hadn’t expected was that organic produce tastes so much better then non-organic.  I don’t know why.  There has been research done that shows that organic produce can have higher levels of certain nutrients in it (like lycopene), so that may be part of the reason the taste is different.  I just know that my children REQUEST organic brussle sprouts.  What kid does that?  Wierdos.

If you want to start somewhere with switching to organic produce, the EWG’s list is a managable place to do it.

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