How Long Can This Love Last?

With a chest X-ray this morning, it's official that Little Miss has pneumonia. Again. Fortunately, we caught it very early - the doctor didn't even hear anything in her lungs and it was fortunately still very small. That said, I think we're done with dairy for at least a couple weeks until she recovers. Coincidence that in 18 months being dairy free she didn't get so much as a cold and two months into reintroducing dairy she has pneumonia?

We are again home, and I have a short respite right now while Little Miss takes a nap. This is her third day home, and it's really starting to hit home to him that she's seriously sick and missing out on things.

This morning as he's getting ready for school:

Mommy, can you take Little Miss's temperature so we can see if she can go to school today? he asked worriedly.

Sorry, Mister Man. With a temp of 103.6 yesterday afternoon, even if she had no fever this morning, she still isn't well enough to go to school today, I explained.

You mean she's going to miss her Halloween party at school?! he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, she is, Kiddo, I confirmed.

But it's ok, because Grandma is going to come over to our house this afternoon and have a little Halloween here for her, right?

Yep, she'll be here when we go to your friend's party and will do something fun with her.

I think I'm going to ask for extra stuff at my Halloween party at school so she can have it at home later, he decided.

That's very sweet.

And, Mommy, the cookies we're taking to Henry's (not his real name) party this afternoon, can we leave some here for her so she can have a cookie at her party, too?

Of course. Of course we can leave a cookie behind for her. I love how he worries about her and wants to take care of her all the time, but especially when she's not feeling well. These are the days where my heart swells with pride. I can only hope that as they grow older, they don't grow apart and they continue to love and respect each other the way they do now.




Current Giveaways:

Family 4 pack of tickets to Ringling Brothers in Chicago at the UC November 17 here
Family Taco Night prize pack here
Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here

Apples? Who Needs Apples?

Apple picking is a big part of our fall traditions, but I haven't been too good about it lately. Last year, we missed it completely. And this year? Well, you'll have to head over to The Chicago Moms to get the full story. I'm posting over there today!



Current Giveaways:

Family 4 pack of tickets to Ringling Brothers in Chicago at the UC November 17 here
Family Taco Night prize pack here
Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here

Cheerios: Thank Goodness I'm Home

I've been a stay at home mom (ha!) for almost exactly four months now. It's definitely been a learning process, and I keep waiting for "normal" to set in, for me to have a routine and a day to day that doesn't constantly change. I'm beginning to decide that this isn't something I will ever have, and I'm slowly becoming ok with it.

A big part of the reason I am ok with the inconsistency and the lack of routine is because of the fact that I can have inconsistency and things will still be ok. I look at this week as a perfect example of things that couldn't have happened were I still working.

On Monday, the wee ones had a birthday party immediately following school. When I was working, I needed them to come straight home, and I couldn't drive them - or their friends - places after school to do fun things. While my mom potentially could have covered for me and taken them, it was nice to go and to get to know some of the other moms in Mister Man's class better. Not having those relationships as much last year was a bit of a challenge.

Yesterday, Little Miss was sick. Instead of scrambling and trying to figure out who was taking Mister Man to school and what I was going to do with a sick Little Miss in the house while I tried to work and be on conference calls, I was able to drop everything to be with her.

When she's sick, she's needy, and I can't get anything done. I cuddled with her, played Uno with her, read books with her, worked with her on her homework, took her to the doctor, and more. I didn't write any blog posts. I didn't hang out on Twitter. I didn't even get the dishwasher emptied. I'm pretty sure that taking care of Little Miss is far more important, and I'm glad that I could be there for her.

With her being sick, she missed a gymnastics class. When I was working, we would have had to eat that class, as there was no way that I could find a time to get her to a makeup class. Gymnastics is her thing, and she loves it. The fact that she was willing to miss it was my huge clue that she was seriously sick.

Today was more of the same. I have a great person who carpools with me who was able to drive both ways, meaning I could let Little Miss sleep in and not worry about getting her moving and out the door. I again got nothing done - it's 7pm and I'm only now sitting down to write a post I had intended to write days ago - but my view of "nothing" has changed.

My getting nothing done means that I spend quality time with the wee ones and have a consistency in their routine - even if not in my own - that they thrive on. My getting nothing done means that we talk about all sorts of things, and I don't feel the need to rush to finish the conversation because I have to finish a project or get on a call. My getting nothing done means that I join my family for dinner every night instead of watching them eat while I edit a presentation or sit on a conference call.

I asked them recently if they liked it better when Mommy worked or when Mommy stays home. Hands down they were happier with me at home, and I'm happier, too - something no one should discount. My mom, especially, has mentioned that Mister Man seems to be so much more at peace and regulated than he was when I was working. While some of that is undoubtedly due to his getting older and the therapies we have him in - again, something that was a huge challenge to do when I waws working - I have to think that my being home and him having a consistent routine and parenting style makes getting through each day just a little easier for him.

I lasted six months when I tried the stay at home mom thing previously. I had the itch to do something - anything - way before then, however. Someone recently asked me if I was ready to go back to work. While I would debate whether or not I'm working raising the wee ones, the answer is a firm no. I'm not ready to take a job outside the home right now. I know where I'm needed, and my family is better and happier for it.

And that? That is worth more than any paycheck I could bring home.

***

Current Giveaways:

Family Taco Night prize pack here
Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

Tasty Tuesday!

With fall here - and more importantly, Halloween this weekend - we've been carving our pumpkins and decorating the house. And with five pumpkins to carve, we had quite a few pumpkin seeds that I didn't want to throw away.

Easiest (and yummiest) thing to do? Roast them for a great treat. Oops, and I just realized I forgot to save a few for the wee ones to plant next year. Let's hope that the great pumpkin seeds are enough of an apology for them.

Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

Ingredients:
Pumpkin seeds
Salt

Directions:
After removing the seeds from your pumpkin and separating them from the pulp, soak them overnight in water.

I know that isn't a usual step, but I never skip it. Wanna know why?

So after your seeds have soaked and the ick has gotten off, rinse the seeds under running water. Spread them in a thin layer on a jelly roll pan on a sil pat (or lightly coat them in oil or use some nonstick spray - I prefer the sil pat). Lightly sprinkle them with salt.

Roast them at 325 degrees for an hour, stirring a couple times and reapplying salt if needed. Feel free to test them at the half hour point to see how they're doing. You want them crunchy, but not brown.

Store them in a covered container after they've cooled.

Enjoy this and more with Tempt My Tummy Tuesday and Blessed with Grace!



***

Current Giveaways:

Family Taco Night prize pack here
Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

They're Related How Again?

I wrote recently about - and included video of - Mister Man Mister Man's love of the song Dynamite by Taio Cruz.

Last night, Mister Man was singing his new favorite song, which was news to my husband.

Fire! I'm gonna light it up. Fire, gonna make it hot. Fire! (which aren't the exact lyrics but as close to it as he gets)

So what song is that, Mister Man? my husband asked.

That's "Fire", he replied.

Oh, is that your new favorite song?

No, it's my third favorite song though, Daddy!

Ahhhh. Who sings that song? inquired my husband.

That's Taylor Swift (ummm it's not, but that's ok) who sings it. Did you know that she's related to Taylor Cruz who sings Dynamite?

Really, she is? my husband asked with raised eyebrows.

Yep, Taylor Cruz and Taylor Swift are cousins. Isn't that so cool that my favorite songs are by people who are cousins?

Ummm yeah, kiddo. It's super neat. It might be news to Taio Cruz and Taylor Swift that they're related though. Oh, and it might be news to Taylor Swift that she sings that song, too.

***

Current Giveaways:

Family Taco Night prize pack here
Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

Ewww Pumpkin Guts!

I love so many things about Fall. I love the crisp weather (so long as it's sunny, with a mild breeze and about 72 degrees) and the leaves changing colors. I love making leaf piles and jumping in them, and oh the smell of them burning! Plus there's football and Halloween and all sorts of great stuff.

Today was our official pumpkin carving day, and it was quite entertaining. I have a small pie pumpkin from the field trip I chaperoned with Mister Man. He has a similar tiny pumpkin (whoo hoo - a tiny pumpkin and a single apple for $18.50!), and Little Miss had a slightly larger pumpkin from her field trip. That simply won't do. Fortunately, Aldi had gigantic pumpkins for $1.99, so the wee ones each chose one to bring home.

The first order of business was to dry them off from the soaking they've gotten over the past day - and yes, we need the rain. My husband was in charge of finding our pumpkin carving kit. He told me that it wasn't in the Halloween bin where it belonged, which saddened me. If it isn't there, it is gone. He insisted it might be in a drawer in the kitchen and proceeded to rummage through a few despite my repeated insistence that I use the drawers often enough and keep them clean enough that they aren't there. And that something like the pumpkin carving kit doesn't just "appear" in a drawer.

He came back upstairs a few minutes later hiding a bad that contained the pumpkin carving kit. That he found in the Halloween bin. Where it belongs. Ahem.

Our kit also includes the oh so cool patterns that make for a truly awesome looking pumpkin. The wee ones each chose a design for their large pumpkins. I ignored the designs and simply began hollowing out my pumpkin for my freehand carving. I'm just fine with my just-the-same-every-year pumpkin with eyes, nose, mouth with teeth, ears, and eyebrows. And you know what? Carving a pie pumpkin is a whole lot easier to do than my usual big one.

After my husband transferred the patterns, I cut off the tops of the wee ones pumpkins. After explaining to Mister Man that either he cleaned out the inside of his pumpkin or it didn't get carved, he put aside his sensory issues and gingerly began removing the guts. (And yes, I know he has sensory issues. I know it's not easy for him, but I also know what he can do and that he needs to be pushed to realize that many things aren't as bad as he thinks they are in his mind.)

Little Miss had no such issues with her pumpkin.

While he didn't exactly enjoy cleaning out his pumpkin, he did a pretty good job of it. Once he finished, he decided he wanted my husband to do the carving of the design so it would look better rather thna doing it himself (probably a good call considering how long it took my husband to do the carving).

Instead, we began work on his little pumpkin, which he decided he also wished to carve. The top again came off, and he proceeded to clean it. This one, I made him carve himself, reinforcing that this was for fun and that he should just have fun with it because pumpkins aren't supposed to be perfect anyway.

That went well for awhile until he accidentally broke the mini-saw he's using (it works on pumpkins but it isn't sharp enough to break skin if you run it against your hand - and I was standing a foot away watching carefully). After replacing the broken saw with another one we had - yay for cheap carving kits! - he continued carving with a little help from me since he wanted to do lots of curves.

He quickly completed his and waited patiently for my husband to finish carving the big, special pumpkin. The look on Mister Man's face when he finally saw the completed product was priceless. He loved his pumpkin - and my husband insists it was worth his time (and the lack of the wee ones' involvement) for that reason alone.

Little Miss also has a very cool pumpkin carved, but by 1:20 I could see that she was fading and getting unusually crabby. I sent her upstairs for a nap, and she is currently sound asleep. If she wakes up soon, I'll add pictures of her with her pumpkin, too.



***

Current Giveaways:

Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

So This Is What A Third Child Could Have Been Like...

I've talked before about the babysitting co-op my neighborhood has and how it's saved me more than once. It's such a great group of women, and it eases my mind when I need to do something sans children. I always know I have someone great who can watch the wee ones. For free.

Ahhhhhhh.

Most of the kids in the co-op are the wee ones' age or older. As with all groups, it's had its ebbs and flows. A couple of the older members with kids who are now in middle school have recently left the co-op and new members with younger children have joined.

That brings us to tonight. Previously, the children we've watched have been more like playdates than anything else. This time, we had a younger child with us. Sage (not her real name) is almost two years old, and she's cute as can be.

The wee ones haven't spent a ton of time around children that young, and before she arrived, I gave them a pep talk. She likely wouldn't listen to them. She might not play with toys they way they'd want her to. She might frustrate them. They nodded and agreed, but I wasn't sure how much of it had sunk in.

Apparently we need to do this babysitting thing more often. The wee ones had a blast, and Mister Man asked twice - twice - when he could babysit again because he loved it so much. When Sage arrived, the wee ones were in the basement uncharacteristically arguing over toys. I prepared myself for a long two hours.

Or not.

When it was time for dinner, they helped gather Sage and brought her to the kitchen. Little Miss picked up Sage (who I think may weigh more than Little Miss) and put her in her booster seat and then pushed in her chair. At the conclusion of dinner, the wee ones helped her clear her place before leading her into the bathroom to wash her hands and face.

Yes, that is Mister Man actually - and very gently - washing Sage's face.

We then headed upstairs to play. When Sage approached me with an "uh-oh" and a sock dangling from her hand, Mister Man asked if he could put it back on for her. I was impressed at how patient he was. See that huge pile of trains? Mister Man went digging into his collection of toys that he doesn't play with anymore that he thought she would like and then brought all of them for her to play with.

After that, Mister Man went in search of "age appropriate" books that he read to Sage while we waited for her Daddy to arrive to pick her up. He let her choose which book to do first and made room on his bed for her, displacing his carefully arranged animals and pillows so that she could sit comfortably.

Why do I have a feeling it wouldn't be all sunshine and roses if I actually did have a third child, though?



***

Current Giveaways:

Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

Falling Into Fall

Today is our first real fally-type day in Chicago that we've had since mid-September. At least in my opinion. Before today, it's always been warm enough by mid day that I've wanted to take off my jacket and change into a not quite so heavy sweater. Today I wore my fleece jacket into the gym where Little Miss had open gym.

Oh. And the leaves are really falling. Our trees are getting to that almost but not quite bare part where you can start to see the ghosts the wee ones made and hung up in one of our trees.

The wee ones are fascinated with the falling leaves. They remember a few years back when my husband raked up all the leaves into huge piles for them to jump into. They want to do it again. Since it's been so nice here lately, we've been spending a lot of time outside every day, and the wee ones decided they'd do their own raking.

I'm not about to stop them from their industry by telling them that they can't. Instead, I get down the rake... and then down our outdoor broom since no one wants to be left out of the fun job of raking. The wee ones will spend thirty or forty minutes raking the leaves. Mister Man focuses on trying to keep the leaves from blowing away - a somewhat hopeless task given how windy it's been lately, while Little Miss drags the leaves from wherever she finds them - generally far from the already raked pile - and uses the broom to try to pull a few of them to the pile.

It's adorable. It isn't very effective, but they're having a blast.

Today my husband truly raked the leaves, and Little Miss of course requested a leaf pile. She even got out her broom all on her own to help.

And once the leaf pile was raked, she spent the next twenty minutes jumping in it and burying herself in the leaves. I had a blast, too. Now the trouble is trying to figure out which picture to put into the calendar for next year.

Shhhhh, don't tell Mister Man what we did while he was at school today!



***

Current Giveaways:

Wendy's gift card here
$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here

Wordless Wednesday: A Love Letter To A Five Year Old

***

Current Giveaways:

$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here

Tasty Tuesday!

Current Giveaways:

$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here

***

You know how someone will make a dish and bring it to an event where everyone raves about it? A woman at Mister Man's school brought this dish to our teacher appreciation luncheon this fall, and they were great. Somehow, there were two small bars left at the end of the luncheon (probably because we had food for 80 and only 60 people), and since I was helping to clean up I offered to bring those orphans home with me.

I promised the wee ones that they could each have one after dinner, as they immediately began begging for a taste once they saw them sitting on the island. Unfortunately, my dad came over, saw them, and ate them before I could tell them I was saving them for the wee ones. Oops. To say Mister Man was devastated was an understatement.

I got the recipe from the woman who brought them as quickly as I possibly could, and life is once again good. And they are now on our regular rotation. Yum!

Chocolate Caramel Bars

Ingredients:
4 sticks unsalted butter, cold
2 1/4 c flour
2 c oats
2 1/4 c brown sugar, packed
1 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
12 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 c chopped pecans
1 can sweetened condensed milk

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In large bowl, combine 2 cups flour, oats, 1 1/2 c brown sugar, salt and
baking soda. Cut in 3 sticks of the butter until mixture is crumbly.

Press half of crumb mixture into 9x13 inch pan. Reserve remaining
crumb mixture for topping. Bake for 15 minutes in preheated oven.

While the crumb mixture is baking, make the caramel. Melt 1 stick (8 T) of butter in a heavy saucepan. Add 3/4 c brown sugar and the can of sweetened condensed milk. Bring the mixture to a boil, then turn down to a simmer stirring regularly. Simmer for 7-10 minutes, then remove from the heat. Add 1/4 c flour to the caramel and whisk until smooth.

Remove crust from oven. Immediately sprinkle with chocolate chips
and pecans. Drizzle caramel sauce over chips and nuts. Sprinkle
remaining crumb mixture evenly on top.

Return pan to oven and bake 18-20 minutes more, until crumbs are
light golden brown. Remove pan from oven and cool for 2 hours. Cut into small squares.

Again for anyone on a diet, I apologize for posting this. They are... spectacular. Enjoy this and more with Tempt My Tummy Tuesday and Blessed with Grace!

Now That's A Backhanded Compliment

Current Giveaways:

$40 gift card to 1-800-Flowers.com here
Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here

***

On Saturday, my husband arrived home after a long day coaching. He walked in the door and into the family room where the wee ones and I were having Movie Night With Mommy and eating popcorn. Immediately, he leaned over me to give me a kiss in greeting.

I ummm (ok, so we've been married awhile), shrank back a bit as I inhaled. With an offended look, he insisted he didn't smell that bad. I simply shrugged and returned my attention to the movie and the popcorn Little Miss and I were sharing.

My husband walked over to Mister Man.

I'll get an unbiased opinion. Mister Man, do I smell bad?

After breathing in a whiff, Mister Man leaned back, and with his most earnest expression replied, No, Daddy, you smell much better than bad.

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one dying of laughter. My husband also thought Mister Man's careful wording was hilarious. Gotta love this kid!

Now This Is The Life...

Current Giveaways:

Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here

***

This afternoon, I did something I think few moms ever get a chance to do. It was one of those moments that causes my heart to simply swell with love for and pride in the wee ones - again.

As I sat on the couch, the wee ones unloaded the dishwasher. By themselves. And then put away all the dishes where they go before loading it with the dishes that had gotten dirty while the dishwasher was running.

And they were happy to be doing it. They were so proud of themselves that they knew what to do and how to do it and that I trusted them enough to do a grown up job. They know that everyone in the house has jobs and that we need to get them done in order for our house to work, and they are generally happy to contribute - not for money, but because they know it's valued and that they are doing a good job.

Sitting on the couch and reading my book, I listened to them with half an ear. What I heard only made me smile more.

Mister Man: Ok, I'm ready for cups now. Can you look for some more blue cups please?
Little Miss: Hmm, I don't see any more blue cups. How about the green ones?
Mister Man: Look right over there behind that bowl. I think I see one more blue cup. Yep, that's it. Thank you!

Little Miss: Here's a glass one for you!
Mister Man: Perfect! How did you know I was going to ask for the glass ones next? I think you can read my mind.

Little Miss: I don't think I know where these go....
Mister Man: That's ok. I'll do them for you. You have to sort out the silverware so that the big forks and the little forks don't go together. Here, just watch me!

Those were only a few of the snippets, and I have to admit that I was shocked to hear them. While the wee ones generally get along better than more siblings I see, they aren't exactly perfect. In fact, earlier in the day I had lost patience with their misbehaving and goofing off while we were at the grocery store.

This afternoon emptying the dishwasher though? I don't know what I did to deserve to such wonderful children, but I'm at the very least going ot make sure they know how much I appreciate it when they are so sweet and responsible and work so well together.

So did I just jinx myself for tomorrow?

What Happens When He Turns 13?

Current Giveaways:

Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here
E is for Ethics children's book here
Precious Moments here

***

I've been working on this post for days. Days. I start writing it, and then I have to stop. I can't tell you how many drafts I've gone through, but this time I'm posting it regardless of how unpolished it is. My apologies in advance.

On Friday, Mister Man came home from school as usual. He unpacked his backpack and handed me his home folder. Amidst the usual reminders and completed work, he passed over his spelling test.

Mister Man scored 60% on it. My eyebrows immediately raised, and I looked more closely. Why? Well, for one thing Mister Man spelled 9 of the 10 words (plus the bonus word) correctly on the pretest - with only "very" being spelled "vary" - without a context, mind you, but that's a different story.

The boy knows his spelling words. Spelling is easy for him. Academics are where he excels, not in sports or socially or in some of the other areas many children take for granted. How exactly did he get a 60%? I'm not so much shocked by the fact that he didn't do well - I don't place expectations on them - but by the knowledge that he knew those words inside and out and therefore something else must be going on.

I looked more closely at the test. Words one through six were spelled perfectly. It was words seven through ten and the bonus word that were all wrong. Interesting. More interesting? His spelling of "use." Or as he wrote it, "ueossyzze" - like he was trying as hard as he could to spell it wrong. And "Vayarree" and "tiuwwisste" (for "twist").

Yep, there is something else at work here.

I gently asked him what he was thinking during the spelling test. He almost broke into tears. Apparently he'd accidentally broken the crayon of a friend of his - mid test (perhaps after the sixth word, I'm guessing?) - and gotten into a little trouble for it. He decided that his punishment should be getting the rest of the words wrong on his spelling test. My boy self-punishes.

This isn't the first time I've seen this tendency. He will periodically come home with his shoes untied. At first, he'd resist my retying them, insisting that he needed them untied. When I pressed further, he'd explain that he'd done something "wrong" and had untied his shoes as punishment. He was hoping that he'd trip and fall and hurt himself.

I've discussed this with him over and over. When you do something you consider wrong, punishment isn't the most important thing. You want to be sorry about what you've done, and feeling bad about it is fine. After that, the most important thing is finding a way to make the situation right - or as right as it can be.

Hurting yourself doesn't make anyone feel better. It doesn't fix the icky feeling inside - or at least it shouldn't.

But Mister Man isn't stopping with this. I still see him coming home with his shoes untied. And I'm sure I'm not seeing everything he does as self-punishment. After all, he's in school all day long and does activities without me, too.

Yes, I've contacted the school's social worker, his teacher, and the assistant principal. The social worker is going to observe him (there are some other things going on related to games he's playing with himself to make academics more challenging) and start working on some ideas of what we can do to help him.

But that doesn't stop me. As soon as I saw that this I couldn't nip this in the bud, my brain started churning. If he's doing things like this as a six year old, what happens as he gets older? Untying his shoes likely won't be sufficient then. He's likely to turn to more destructive tendencies if he can't find a better way to problem solve now. And if he's so deeply touched by his perception of "failing" now, what will happen when the hormones kick in? Should I resign myself to the idea that he will be prone to depression and that I'll always have to keep a vigilant eye on his moods and where he's at? The thoughts sicken me and send my heart racing.

This is another aspect of parenting that "I didn't sign up for" - much like having a child with Asperger's. But it's part of who he is, and we're working through it. We're focusing on his successes and showing him how many things he does do well. And when he does something wrong? We're trying to focus on a more appropriate way to fix situations and feel better about himself when something bad does happen. When left to his own devices, he still isn't choosing the most appropriate options. Between home, his teacher, and the social worker, I'm hoping that we find a way to help him decide that fixing things is more important than punishing himself, but we definitely aren't there yet.

Have any of you ever had these issues either with yourself or other children you know? Do you have any suggestions to try to help him understand how to make better choices when he does something wrong?

And They Hired Me Again...

Current Giveaways:

Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here
E is for Ethics children's book here
Precious Moments here

***

I loved babysitting when I grew up. Heather Hermalink was my favorite babysitter ever, and I emulated everything I could about her. When she sold her broken down, ratty ten-speed bike at a garage sale, guess who bought it? She painted her finger nails? So did I. She wore a headband daily, well obviously I had to find a matching one, right? And she babysat. A lot.

She wasn't much older than me, maybe four or five years, and eventually she moved away, and I took over much of her babysitting - including that of the boy and girl who moved into her house. When I went to college, I discovered that there were parents living nearby who loved having responsible college students babysitting for them, and by my junior year, I had a family that I nannied for regularly - three days a week for several hours each day.

That family had the sweetest little baby boy. He was about three months old when I first met him, and he was one of those happy guys who was never bothered by anything. I got along well with his mom - who was new to the area and had a husband who traveled all week long - and she often stayed around just to chat with me.

I loved watching him. While his mom sometimes had the tv on in the background to keep her occupied, I never wanted anything to distract me from his cuteness (this may also be partially due to the fact that I was with him fewer than twenty hours a week rather than 24/7 with a traveling spouse). I watched him learn to eat from a spoon and delighted in finding new favorite foods for him. I remember his mom telling me that she was amazed by how much better he'd eat with me than he would for her. We went for long walks through the neighborhood whenever the weather was nice - even though it required me lugging his large stroller down two flights of stairs (welcome to apartment living in Chicago).

It wasn't all sweetness and light though.

I also had to change his diapers. And I swear that boy had the worst diapers of any child I'd ever met. Or maybe I was just a naive college kid who had yet to be initiated into the real stinky diaper society. Regardless, it still holds some unpleasant memories for me.

One day, his mom was in the kitchen, having not quite left the house yet - one wall away from the boy's bedroom. I was in his bedroom changing a particularly nasty diaper. He was on his gorgeous high honey oak changing station when I began the task of gingerly dismantling his explosion. As I lifted his Polo onesie (his auntie worked for Ralph Lauren - you can only imagine the wardrobe this boy had!), I saw that he had succeeded in blowing out the back of the diaper.

I sighed and turned to the wardrobe to get a change of clothes for him while my adorable, immobile charge lay admiring his pinky toes. I rifled through the wardrobe to find one of my favorite outfits, and I finally found it buried deep among other - probably equally adorable - outfits. I turned back to the boy just in time to see him roll over for the first time. He was rolling off the changing table that I'd neglected to strap him into because ... well, he didn't move and he was filthy and I didn't want to get the mess further smeared on him and his clothing. Neither of those is a good reason, but it is what it is.

I was across the room, a good six to seven feet away, as I saw his body tilt downward and towards the hardwood floor a good four feet below - remember, this was a very high changing table. I don't think I've ever moved so fast, before or since. Somehow - someone was looking out for him that day - I managed to lunge across the room and get my arms out before he landed on his beautiful, perfect head and split it open or worse. I caught that little boy inches from the ground as my knee thunked solidly into the floor. That hurt. It really hurt, but I was focused on ensuring the boy was ok.

Needless to say, he began crying. He didn't scream, as I don't think I ever heard him truly panic cry, but he was not a happy camper. He didn't like his adventure of plummeting off the changing table, and he probably picked up on some of my panic, not to mention the abrupt catching and halting of his fall. I quickly righted him into my arms and began soothing him to the best of my ability, hoping that his mom would have left before this incident.

I'm not that lucky, in case you're wondering. Within seconds, I heard her thundering into the bedroom to see if everything is ok - she'd heard a thunk (my knee) and her baby was crying. Note that her son was still filthy and partially exposed, as I'd already lifted his onesie up before discovering the need for a new outfit. I explained it away as me having gotten a new outfit that had fallen and my knee having hit the floor (true) as I bent down to pick it up with him still in my arms (not so true) and that he was just a little startled (mostly true).

She believed me and went on her way, shortly leaving the house to go about her day. As for me, I stood there for a full ten minutes, holding her precious baby and thanking whoever it was that kept him from brain damage. I didn't notice the stains on my shirt until after I'd gotten home, but I figured it was a small sacrifice for a worthy baby.

Nonetheless, I've never again left an infant unstrapped or in a position where he could roll or fall from a high place. I've never stepped away from a child placed on an elevated surface. And I don't think the mom ever learned the truth of what almost happened to her precious boy.

Tasty Tuesday!

Current Giveaways:

Two Aquaphor Wonder Sets here
Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here
E is for Ethics children's book here
Precious Moments here

***

I was looking through my recipes the other day, and I realized that I somehow left off one of my favorites. It's one of the first recipes I ever felt comfortable with - and probably the first recipe I followed that I tweaked to make my own.

I make it frequently around here for one reason. Tell me I'm not the only one with this problem?

I'm a person who thinks that a banana looking like this is too ripe to eat.

I like my bananas firm and somewhat bitter. Once they turn yellow, they're too sweet for me. That means I generally have one to two days to eat whatever bananas I buy. Otherwise, it's banana bread time!

Banana Bread

Ingredients:
12 T butter, unsalted at room temperature
3/4 c granulated sugar
1 1/2 c brown sugar - divided
3 eggs
4 bananas
1/2 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1 t salt
3 c flour

Directions:
In a large bowl, beat the butter, granulated sugar and 3/4 c of brown sugar on high until it is lightened in color and texture and has startedd to come back together again.

Add the baking powder, baking soda, and salt and mix until thoroughly combined. Add the flour and blend until it is integrated. In a separate small bowl, lightly beat your eggs, then slowly add them to the other mixture.

Add your very ripe bananas to the mixture, and mix again. I don't mash mine before I put them in, as I find that that the beaters in the mixer smash them up to just the right size as it is. I like my bread to have a few larger pieces in it as well as the mash throughout.

Grease two loaf pans (seriously, why make a single loaf? It's never enough, but almost all quick bread recipes seem to make only one loaf). Split the batter between the two loaf pans and sprinkle the remaining 3/4 c of brown sugar atop the loaves before placing them in the oven.

Bake at 350 degrees for an hour, making sure you check the centers with a toothpick before taking them out. Let them cool for five minutes, then turn out onto a cooling rack and let cool completely.

Enjoy this and more with Tempt My Tummy Tuesday hosted on The Well today!

Happy Birthday, Mister Man!

Current Giveaways:

Disney Live! Presents Mickey's Magic Show tickets here
E is for Ethics children's book here
Precious Moments here

***

Mister Man turned seven today. It wasn't nearly so difficult for me this year as it was last year. Maybe it's because he's already spent a year in full day school or because he'd already gotten so tall. Regardless, this year it was again a birthday. And I think that's a good thing.

My husband and I were out of town for a wedding this weekend, so I called Mister Man this morning to wish him a happy birthday as soon as we woke up. When I asked if he felt any different now that he is seven, he had some very serious answers for me.

Mom. I grew again. I think I got another five inches taller overnight. I'm worried that my clothes aren't going to fit me anymore.

My head feels all different inside, too. I think my brain might be a little bit bigger now. And guess what? I decided that monsters really aren't real. And that I'm not afraid of them anymore because they aren't there. That's what my brain did now that I turned seven.

Needless to say, my husband and I hit the road as soon as possible after that so that we could get home and spend at least part of his birthday with him - and make his strawberry cake with cherry icing that he'd requested.

Mister Man's biggest thrill of the day had to be his birthday missions. We listen to Kids Place Live regualarly, and the afternoon host Absolutely Mindy will give kids three birthday missions that they "have" to do in order to turn another year older. I emailed her requesting birthday missions, and at 3:30 this afternoon, she delivered.

First came the Yoda parody song from Weird Al Yankovic. Then we had our missions specifically for Mister Man.

1. Find something that doesn't belong on birthday cake - a mushroom, bananas, whatever - and put it on your cake today. Then you have to eat it.

2. Tape a penny to your head. Then if anyone asks you why you have a penny on your head, you can tell them that you're making sure that if you run out of money, you'll always have another penny.

3. All week long, anytime someone asks you a question that has "no" for an answer, instead reply "No-bi Wan Kenobi!"

I love them, and Mister Man was thrilled. T-H-R-I-L-L-E-D. Especially because she played the Star Wars theme afterwards. My Star Wars obsessed child (who has never seen any of the movies or cartoons by the way) was in heaven.

He immediately ran upstairs and got a penny from his piggy bank and used lots of tape to ensure it stayed on his forehead. When his grandpa arrived, he couldn't wait to tell him why he had a penny on his forehead.

And the cake? We didn't have mushrooms, so we decided to put French toast and bacon on his strawberry cake with cherry icing. And then he proceeded to eat it and love it. My mom's stomach isn't quite so strong, but Mister Man thought it was neat.

And yes, we are of course still cracking up at the "No-bi Wan Kenobi" cheerfully isssuing from Mister Man's mouth. I'm just hoping that his teacher gets it and he doesn't get in trouble at school.

Missions accomplished, I officially am the proud mama of a seven year old.