The Cart of My Dreams

I am a supermarket snob.  I am not ashamed.   Safeway, Lucky, Albertsons... they are beneath me.  I prefer to shop here and here (of course) and OMG who can resist this store!  Not me.  I am a slave to these stores.   

Draeger's, my sweet Draeger's, you roped me in with your fresh, lovely salad bar and bakery that is to die to for.  Your wine selection is unbeatable, you even have a tiny tasting room almost hidden among the wine section that nearly takes up half the store.  You are killing me with the upstairs specialty store.  I can get any cookie cutter shape imaginable, a springform pan or even adorable birthday party supplies along with my groceries.  The men behind the meat counter always cut my chicken breasts into stir fry pieces for me, flirting with me the whole time and telling me my kids are the cutest you've seen all day.  You have every random ingredient I could ever imagine and some I don't even know what to do with.  Best of all, you are so close to my house and my kids (OK, me too) love the free produce samples.

Whole Foods... I adore you.  Walking into your well stocked and inviting produce section nearly sends me over the edge.  Then you go and let my kids choose a healthy snack like an apple, a fruit roll or some bunny crackers to eat for free while we shop.  Your selection of cheeses sets my heart on fire.  Then you have to go and add all those pre-packaged, healthy salads, sandwiches and all kinds of other stuff.  Your staff is friendly and helpful and always point me to the yogurt which for some reason is not where one would logically assume yogurt would be.  My addiction to you only worsened when you built a brand new, gorgeous store right next to a Peet's Coffee shop.  

Trader Joe's, you need no love song.  Every mother knows the value you have added to our lives with your inexpensive, yummy foods.  My kids are addicted to your frozen french toast and I have developed my own little problem with your Kettle Korn and real brewed ice-tea.  

While Draeger's does sell Diet Pepsi and plain old French's mustard, the prices are outrageous.  So once in a while, I will slum it and make a trip to Safeway for some basics.  I used to do all my shopping exclusively at Safeway until I was enlightened.  Alas, I am trying to turn over a new leaf and save some money rather than indulge my grocery shopping whims.  So today, Gloppy and I hit the local Safeway.

Damn you Safeway.  You had me with the "cart of my dreams."  My kids always want to get the cart with the little car in front.  You know the one.  The one that is impossible to maneuver so that you give your kids whiplash every time you try to turn a corner and whack into something or someone.  The one where other shoppers see you coming and run the other way.  I used to work up a sweat pushing that damn thing with little Lolly and Frostine in the car and Gloppy strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn.  I hated that cart with it's slimy seatbelts and flimsy door.

But Safeway, now you go and bust out the big guns.  "The cart of my dreams."  Gloppy and I walked into the store and he immediately spotted a small row of blue carts with Barney on the door.  We walked over to check it out.  He got in one while I noticed the small kiosk nearby.   The kiosk asked me which TV show I would like my son to watch.  What?  OK, I'll play along.  He chose Thomas the Train and as soon as I pushed the button it started playing on the little screen in the front section of the new car cart.  Oh, this cart was much, much easier to steer through the aisles and the doors lock from outside so Gloppy couldn't make a break for it.  There was even a cup holder for me and a little screen that seemed to know where in the store I located.  It would flash ads for popsicles in the frozen food aisle or pasta in the pasta aisle.  I didn't mind the ads, they were easy to ignore. 

This was the best shot I could get of the of "the cart of my dreams" since Gloppy kept telling me "no pictures in Safeway mama."  He has strict rules about when I can take his picture and when I can't.  Apparently grocery shopping in Safeway is not on his list of OK photo ops.

He barely made a peep while I cruised the store and he doesn't even like Thomas that much.  He never once tried to sneak something in the cart or asked me to buy Lucky Charms.  When we reached the checkout, your friendly little voice told Gloppy his show was almost over and you had a fun time with shopping with him.

So damn you Safeway, I may be back sooner rather than later.  It wasn't your $7.00 roast chicken that made me fall in love.  Draeger's amazing roast chicken is $13.00.  It wasn't your 4 boxes of pasta for $5.00 or your sale on Diet Pepsi.  Heck, even my favorite feminine hygiene products were dirt cheap.  No Safeway, it wasn't even the in store Starbucks than won me over.  It was the oh, so very lovely "cart of my dreams."  

Scenes From My Day: A Journey Through Choices

I started my day pissed off.  I didn't sleep really well.  I have a busy week coming up.  Lots of classroom volunteering, play dates and we are hosting 40 parents from Gloppy's preschool here for a cocktail party on Wednesday night (pray for me).  My house was a disaster.  I was not looking forward to my day.

This week is Red Ribbon Week at Lolly and Frostine's school.  Which means they spend the week learning about "making healthy choices" and doing silly things like "wear your clothes inside out and be healthy from the inside out!" Or my favorite, "sock it to bad choices by wearing crazy socks to school!"  It's actually a great program and my kids love it.  As I was packing their lunch boxes, they asked for "healthy food" and "no candy!"   So here are some snapshots of my day and some of the good and bad choices I made.

Breakfast went well fairly well despite by foul mood.  We were not running late, but we didn't really have time to dilly dally either.  All day on Sunday my kids had been working on these.  Rather than clean it all up before I went to bed on Sunday night, I left it all out on the coffee table.  That was a bad choice.  Of course once they stared in on that project, they were not too enthused about getting dressed and brushing teeth.  Once I finally pulled them away for craftville, we were too late to walk to school and I hadn't gotten myself dressed.  Luckily their school has a drop-off and I didn't need to get out of the car.

On the days Gloppy has preschool, I have a little over a half an hour after I drop off the girls to get Gloppy to school.   Sometimes we go get coffee, but today we choose to come home and get dressed.  That was a good choice since his school doesn't really frown kids in their pajamas, but I don't think they appreciate mom's in their pajamas.  Sid the Science Kid was on, so I let him watch it while I did the dishes.  We have just enough time to get dressed and get to school when the show is over.   

For some reason, Gloppy picked today to throw a monster temper tantrum when I asked him to get dressed.  It was awful.  I was frustrated because I had a lot to get done in my 2.5 hours of free time and he was starting to cut into my freedom.  I tried everything I could think of... I bribed him with candy, cookies and Diet Pepsi (yikes!!).  I begged, I cried, I let him pick out his own clothes.  He was crying like I was asking him to cut off his leg!  He finally tore off his clothes and cried and cried and cried some more.  He finally put his clothes on when I threatened to throw his blankie in the trash and leave without him.  It broke my heart to see his naked little body come after me to rescue his blankie.  He put on new underwear that he chose himself and a new pair or clothes that he chose himself.  As a final dig to me I think, he put his clothes on backwards.  He said, "I'll put these on, but only the wrong way."  I chose not to care.  I think this was a good choice.

By the time we got to school, I was a wreck.  He was crying the whole ride to school saying he didn't want to go.  When I asked him why, he said none of the kids like him.  That was like a stab to the heart.  I think he gets overwhelmed trying to keep up with all the other kids when he just hobbles around on his bad leg.  He agreed to go in and check his cubby for pictures, then he wanted to go home.  Once we were inside he picked up a truck and said good-bye to me.  By the time I got to the parking lot, I was emotionally drained and started crying.  Actually, I was sobbing.  I ran into the mom whose little boy I was supposed to take home for a play date.  Hooray!  I'm sure it instilled a lot of confidence in her that the mom taking her some home was crying in the preschool parking lot.  Not a great choice.   She is actually a very cool mom.  She gave me a hug and plate of cookies!  I told her I would be fine by pick up.

After spending my 2.5 free hours running around cleaning up my house so my cleaning lady could clean my house later that afternoon I ran out the door for preschool pick up.  There are two "choice" parking spaces in their tiny parking lot and I like to get their early to get one.  I don't really care that much about parking spaces, but Gloppy freaks out if I don't get one of those specific spaces.  As I was rushing out the door, I asked myself, "what the hell are you doing?"  I could have five more minutes of free time.  Who is the mommy here?!  He will have to learn to deal with a sub-par parking space.  Score one for mommy.  That was a good choice.

Later on in the evening I was reading blogs and I came across this post.  Reading it was a good choice.  She is delightfully funny.  It got me thinking about how many times someone may have written a blog post about me after a random encounter in the grocery store, at school or where ever.  I hope it was a funny post.

I also chose to watch some TV.  Warren Sapp dancing the hustle makes me happy.  

I choose to be happy.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Remember when I was missing my kids's babyhood?  Well it seems I got my wish to relive it.  Sort of.  

Gloppy and his dad were sliding down a monster size slide together this morning and Gloppy's foot got caught underneath Mr. Mint and bent backwards.  After lots of tears and a quick x-ray at the ER, we discovered it's not broken.  Phew!  

He does have a really bad and apparently painful sprain.  Normally they would give the patient crutches, but they don't make crutches for three year olds.  So the doctor sent us on our way with orders for me to act as his crutches.  Gloppy needs to stay of his leg for 48 hours.  Which means I spent the entire day carrying him around.  Every time he attempts to stand up or walk he literally crumples to the floor and starts crying.  

Today I enjoyed sitting with him on the couch and having him hug me tight.  By the end of tomorrow I may be singing a different tune after carrying him up and down the stairs a million times.  

Coconuts Are the New Bananas

My kids have been fighting with each other all. damn. day.  By bath time, I had had enough.  In order for me not to scream at them, I told them I needed to have a time out.  When I came back into the room Gloppy asked me why I had to have a time out.  I said "because you guys are driving me bananas."  He said, "I'm not driving you bananas, I'm driving you coconuts."

Normal

I took Gloppy to the pediatrician this morning for his 3 year old check up.   I learned that his hearing and vision are normal.  Despite only being in the 10th percentile for weight, his growth is normal.  His height in normal.  His speech is normal.  His sleep patterns are normal.   I also learned that his eating patterns and neurosis surrounding food are, you guessed it, normal.   I am somewhat comforted by the fact that scenes like the following play out in households all across America every day.

This morning for breakfast the kids decided they wanted oatmeal.  Everyone picked their flavor and I set about adding milk and microwaving.  Gloppy insisted on opening the packet himself, putting it in the bowl that he picks out himself and pouring in the milk.  Fine.  I put some milk in a measuring cup and let him mix it up himself.  He then insists on carrying the bowl to the microwave himself, spilling a little bit along the way.  While its cooking, he decides to run to the bathroom.  He's still in the bathroom when the microwave dings.  The bowl is hot, so I take it out and put it on a plate.  That was my first mistake.  He comes running in screaming "noooooooo, now I have to get a new one!!"  OK, I put the bowl back in the microwave so he can take it out himself.  Oh no, that won't do.  He doesn't want that oatmeal anymore since I have ruined it.  We start the whole process over again with a new bowl, new measuring cup and new spoon.  This time he takes the bowl out of the microwave himself.   After taking a couple of bites, he tells me he wants french toast instead.  

My pediatrician thought this story was quite funny.  I am sure I will too someday.

Dear Gloppy,

Today you are three years old.  Three.  I can't quite get my head around it.  Saying "my 3 year old little boy" just sounds wrong.  How can it have gone by so fast?  You have brought so much joy to this family in your three short years.

When I was pregnant with you we thought for sure you were a girl.  We already had two girls, so of course we would have another.  I had the pink flowery crib bedding all picked out and visions of my three daughters.   When you came into the world and your dad announced "it's a boy" I was shocked.  We felt like we won the lottery.  I was in love from the moment I saw your little face.  Your sisters were even more enamored than your dad and I.   They couldn't stop kissing you and tickling you.  We were over the moon.

As crazy as it sounds, I used to look forward to getting up with you in the middle of the night.  It was the only time I could sit and hold you without your sisters in the way.  You were a cuddly, happy baby.  Anytime people asked me how you were doing, I felt like a school girl gushing about her first boyfriend.    I savored every minute of your babyhood.  I knew it would be the last time I held a three month old, a six month old or celebrated one of my children's first birthdays.

You happily accompanied your sisters and I to gymnastics and ballet and the park.   You'd sit happily in the sand with your shovel while your sisters whirled around and I chatted with other moms.  Everyone who meets you falls in love.  Even at one year old, your charm was infectious. 

You could sing the UCLA fight song and say "woof" long before you could say mama.  

Once you did start talking, there's been no stopping you.   You keep a running commentary of our day.   You can easily keep up with your sister's non-stop chatter.   When all the stars are aligned, watching the three of you together and all the games you come up with is pure joy for me.   

Even when you are driving me bananas with your need for a different spoon for each food on your plate, your refusal to eat anything green or lately your absolute insistence on doing everything MYSELF, you can always make me laugh.  Being your mom brings so much sunshine to my life.  Happy Birthday my little boy.   I love you.

Your mommy

Adventures in Errands

Mr. Mint can't understand why I spend so much time at Target.   What he doesn't understand is that when you give birth at the hospital, on the first night when you are exhausted and jacked up on pain killers, a Target Team Member in a red shirt sneaks into your room and tells you that if you don't visit a Target store at least twice a month, they will come and take your children and report you to CPS.   It's true, ask any mom you know.  They also give you a map to the three Target stores closest to your house.

I used to make a Target run once a week.  But now that no one in my house wears diapers any more, I can get away with every other week or so.  I mean who doesn't love a store where you can buy a new purse, baby shampoo, new underwear for the whole family and a case of Diet Pepsi all in one place.  It's a great place to catch up with other mom's too.  I always run into at least one other mom that I know from the neighborhood or school.  As if that isn't fabulous enough, my Target has a Starbucks inside.  

After we dropped Lolly and Frostine off at school today I asked Gloppy if he wanted to go to the park.  He said he wanted to go to Target.  Gloppy is only slightly less obsessed with Target than I am.  We have a little routine.  We get our cart and stop in Starbucks for an unsweetened Venti Passion Ice Tea (for me) and a chocolate milk (for him).  Armed with our beverages of choice, we stroll the aisles checking things off our list and picking up a few extra things we can't live without.  

Gloppy spotted this hat and almost peed his pants with excitement.

He wore it all day long.  

When we pulled into the driveway, Gloppy said, "that was fun adventure mommy."  Indeed it was my little Target teammate. 

In Praise of Trader Joe's Frozen Meatballs

If I've learned anything in my five and half years as a parent, it's that the things I stress and fret about the most seem to work themselves out by the time I've read all the books and consulted my pediatrician.    I make a doctor appointment to get a strange rash checked out, and that morning, it clears up.  Oh the sleep I lost over taking away Lolly and Frostine's pacifiers.  We made a big production over taking them to the toy store, picking out whatever they wanted, and paying with our "binkie bucket."  I was in a such a panic that night at bedtime I broke out in a cold sweat.   But it was like they never had pacifiers at all.   Not a tear was shed and neither of them mentioned the binkie bucket again.

Lately it's been Gloppy's eating habits that have kept me up at night.   Up until recently, we have described him as a pretty good eater, marveled at what he will eat and how much.  The past few weeks, he's been on a pasta and cookie only diet.  Eggs and bananas were his breakfast of choice, now I'm lucky if I can get him to eat a piece of toast and a drink a glass of water.  I think it's pretty typical behavior for an almost three year old, but it has me a little worried.  It has Mr. Mint a lot worried.

Let me just say that I am of the Ellyn Satter camp; you put healthy food in front of them and whether or not they eat it is up to them.    Personally, I am annoyed when people push food on me, telling me how much I'll love it (hello Mr. Mint's family!!!).   I'll decide what I like, thankyouverymuch.  We try to enforce the one bite rule, and if they tell me they don't like something, I don't try to convince them otherwise.   Yes, I get annoyed if I have put a lot of effort into dinner for several nights in a row and most of the food ends up in tupperware in the fridge.  But I refuse to have battles at the dinner table.  There is always something on the table that I know they will eat.  If they eat strawberries and bread for dinner, so be it.   If I really want them to take a few bites of something, I'm not above bribery in the form of ice cream.

Mr. Mint is the exact opposite.   He pays attention to every bite they take, and gets annoyed with me if I let them have their fruit before their protein.  I have a pretty good idea where he gets it.  My mother-in-law will bring up the starving children in India, tell them they'll never grow if they don't eat such and such or ask "aren't you a good boy/girl" if they aren't hungry.  I could go on and on and on.   What and and how much one eats is big deal at my in-laws house.

So I've bought in a little bit to Mr. Mint and my mother-in-laws worries about Gloppy.   There have been a few times when I have considered asking my pediatrician for advice.   Like when all he has eaten all day is a banana, some pasta and some more pasta.   

Today on the way home from Tiny Tots, I asked Gloppy what he wanted for lunch.  He answered, "meatballs, I love meatballs mommy."  I had a moment of panic, thinking I don't have time to run to the store for some ground meat, roll some meatballs and cook them.  Then I remembered the Trader Joe's meatballs I had in the bottom of my freezer.  I almost peed my pants I was so happy.  I cooked up three meatballs and gave them to Gloppy over a little plain pasta.  He ate two whole meatballs, more protein than he's had in one sitting in I don't know how long.   Then at dinner we had build your own soft tacos.  He filled his taco full of ground beef, black beans, rice and cheese and gobbled it right up.  Cue the choir of angels please.  I think he's finally tired of pasta and plain toast.  No sign of his appetite for cookies slowing down though.

Dear Gloppy

You are one month away from turning three.   It seems as though you are trying to cram the terrible twos into the last month you have left.  You've always been a pretty easy going kid, but today you were anything but "easy."  

It started when you refused to get dressed until I bribed you with a Skittle.  Then you cried all the way to school saying you didn't want to go.  When we got there you sat right down with the trucks and said, "bye mom."  I came to pick you up and you insisted on opening the school's gate yourself.  Forget childproof, that gate is adult proof.  You dissolved in tears when you weren't able to do it.  I carried you kicking and screaming to the car where you became even more upset when I didn't have a snack for you.  

As soon as we got home you wanted to walk to Frostine and Lolly's school to pick them up.  You didn't understand that they still had a few hours left and it wasn't time yet.  At lunchtime I put the pasta into the water and you again dissolved in tears because you wanted put it in yourself and repeated, "I don't like you Mommy," several times because I wouldn't take it out.   Nap time was not much better.   You cried all the way up the stairs and refused to stay in your bed.  I didn't have any fight left in me, so I let you come downstairs and we played trains when all I wanted to do was sit and read my magazine for a few minutes.

You wouldn't leave my side while I was trying to cook dinner and kept asking me for snacks.  No carrots or crackers for you though.  Only a fruit roll or Pirate's Booty would satisfy you.  When your dad came home I was so ready for him to take over for a while, but you weren't having it.  "Mommy, mommy, mommy, I want mommy" was your greeting for daddy.  While you were in the bath tub I kept thinking how did I ever do this when your sisters where your age and there were two toddlers having tantrums all day and a newborn baby to take care of.

You were in your pj's, teeth brushed and I took you into your bedroom at 6:45pm.   We sat in the big, blue chair and I read your favorite book.  You whispered the words as I read them.  I had been so anxious for you to go to bed, but suddenly I just wanted to sit and hold you.  You snuggled with your blankie and fell asleep within seconds of putting the book down.  I could feel you head growing heavier on my chest with each breath.  All of my frustration melted away.  I put you in your bed, placed all your stuffed animals just where you like them and kissed you good night.   

You tested my patience all. day. long.  Yet I know that I will look back on this day and remember not the tears, but the way your hair smelled when you fell asleep in my arms and how much I'm going to miss sitting in that big, blue chair with you when you're too big to curl up in my lap.

Love,

Mommy

I Swear It's True

I have a DVD player in my mini-van.   We only use it for long road trips, or if I want to keep the kids from falling asleep in the car.  Today I let Gloppy watch the Backyardigans while we were out running errands.   Sometimes it's the only way I can get the boy to stop talking to me, and I needed to make a phone call.  Seriously, the kid talks non stop, especially in the car.

In the episode he was watching, the Backyardigan gang were cowboys in the wild west and the musical theme was rap.   His favorite song in this particular episode is "Ridin' the Range."  When it started, he excitedly yelled, "Mama!  It's Ridin' the Ho!"  

I was speechless.

Taking Out the Trash

Mr. Mint and I argue about two things: money and taking out the trash.  We have been married for just about eight years and lived together for four years before we were married.  In those twelve years, the man has never once had to do his own laundry.  A couple of years ago I asked him to put the wash into the dryer and he asked me which one was the dryer.  

I have made peace with the fact that I do 99.9% of the housework around here.  Truth be told, I have a house cleaner that comes once a week so I can complain too much.  The ONE thing I ask Mr. Mint to do is take out the trash.  He does a lot of things really well, but remembering to take out the trash is not one of them.   Somehow he is not bothered by an overflowing, smelly trash can in our kitchen.  If he needs to throw something away, he just shoves it in.   At the end of the evening, after the kids are in bed and I've cleaned the kitchen, I often ask him to take the trash out.  Inevitably he says the same thing, "I'll take it out on my way out the door in the morning."  Inevitably, he forgets.  I wake up the next morning, I am tired and I've probably already broken up a couple of sibling squabbles.  I haven't had my coffee and there are three hungry kids asking for their breakfast.  When I can't even fit a banana peel or an eggshell in the trash, this is when I really lose it.  Seriously Mr. Mint, would it kill you to take it out once in a while?!?!

Don't even get me started on taking the trash to the curb on trash day.  We have a pretty long driveway, and it can be a pain to drag our trash can down to the end along with the two recycling cans.  If he's not out of town, he'll say to himself, "oh I'll just take the cans to the end of the driveway before I go to work in the morning."   I'll be lying in my bed on trash day and hear the garbage truck and think to myself, "I really hope he remembered to take the cans to end of the driveway because I am the one that will have to deal with two weeks worth of trash if he didn't."  Nine times out of the ten, he forgets.

I must come to terms with the fact that I am the one who is motivated to get the trash out of the house since I am the one who is here all day, everyday.  It has gotten to the point where he doesn't even jump off the couch and offer to help if he sees me taking the trash out.  Yes, I'm angry.  But what can I do?  At least now Gloppy is big enough to help carry the trash cans back up the driveway.  

If I teach my son anything, it will be to always help his wife out with the trash and say thank you when she washes, folds and puts away your laundry.   Or better yet, offer to wash, fold and put away her laundry!

Just Be Quiet and Watch TV

Princess Lolly, Princess Frostine and Gloppy built a fort in the living room this morning after breakfast.  Lolly was the "mommy" and Frostine and Gloppy were the babies.  Lolly made cake for them, gave them "presents" and read them some books.  

Frostine was really getting in to the role of "baby."  She was pretending to cry and saying "mommy, mommy, mommy."  Repeatedly.  Finally Lolly said, "I don't want to be the mommy anymore, just be quiet and watch TV."   I feel your pain Lolly. 

Family Dinner

We here in the Candy Cane Forest try to have dinner together as a family as often as possible.  During the week it's tough, but we can usually manage on the weekends.  Princess Lolly has been asking for steak for a while.  We don't eat a ton of red meat and the whole beef recall has me a little spooked.   But we decided to throw caution to the wind and grill a marinated tri tip.   Yum.  I think Lolly ate most of it.   She kept asking for more and finally we cut her off.  Then she ate an entire basket of strawberries.  She clearly shares her mother's appreciation of good food.  

She and Princess Frostine helped me make the side dishes which rounded out a very nice meal.

 

The potatoes were so tasty and the brussels sprouts were simple and delicious.  It was a nice little family dinner despite Gloppy's mini tantrum because we wouldn't give him Diet Pepsi with his dinner and we made the mistake of putting a brussels sprout on his plate.  He was fine after we got him a new plate that had never touched any green food.

The Price I Pay for a Shower

Want to see what three kids can do to a room while their mother takes a shower?  Here's what the room normally looks like.

Now here's what it looked like when I came back downstairs after my shower.

I really wish this picture did it justice.  What you can't see is the cereal they helped themselves to and then proceeded to sprinkle around the room.  I swear it was a quick shower.  I am just thankful I decided not to shave my legs.  You'll notice the kids are nowhere to be seen.  Well that's because they had moved on to destroy other rooms in the house, or get more snacks.

A Valentine Photo Essay

CAUTION:  LOTS OF PICTURES AHEAD

The Candy Cane kids started preparing their Valentines this past weekend.  Here are Princess Frostine and Gloppy getting crafty.

Here is Princess Lolly putting some sugar on some sugar cookies.  Gloppy was covered in flour and pink sugar crystals, but he wouldn't let me take his picture.

Here are our creations ready to go in the oven.

And here's the finished product ready to put in bags and attach our valentines.

Princess Frostine and Princess Lolly ready to take their cookies to school and spread the love.  Lolly woke up with a fever though, so she stayed home under the care of Grandma Nutt.

Here's Gloppy at his Tiny Tots Valentine party.  He was a little out of sorts so we left shortly after he finished his pink cupcake and collected his loot.

After dinner we made some popcorn, built a fire and watched A Charlie Brown Valentine.   

After the kids went to bed it was Indian take-out, Diet Pepsi and Survivor for me.  I would have poured myself a glass of wine, but I had one too many glasses last night at my mom's night out.  The flowers were courtesy of Mr. Mint.

Happy Valentine's Day to me.

Scenes From My Day

Act 1:  Breakfast

I try hard not to be a short order cook.  In our house, if  you don't like what is being served, you can have a hard boiled egg, some cheese or peanut butter toast.  But it pains me to send them off to school without a good breakfast.  Breakfast is the one meal where no matter how hard I try, I end up making at least two if not three different things.  Today was one of those days.  I made Trader Joe's french toast for everyone and even sprinkled some powdered sugar on it.  When I presented it two out of three gave it the thumbs down.  To make a long story short, I wound up making eggs, wheat toast, sliced strawberries, a protein shake and some black tea as well.  The shake and tea were for me.

Act 2:  Out and about with Gloppy the Chocolate Monster

After I dropped the Princesses off at school, Gloppy and I went to run some errands.   Six months ago, Gloppy's vocabulary consisted of about 20 words or so.  Lately though, the boy does not stop talking.  He provides a running commentary to our day.   He also provides commentary to everyone we encounter.  Today he told the Starbucks Barista that we needed to pick up daddy's shirts, he told the dry cleaner that we were going to get some pizza.  At the pizza place, we ran into an acquaintance with her son.   Gloppy told her mommy ran on the treadmill this morning.  Why thanks Gloppy, it's always nice to have someone to do your bragging for you.  Seriously though, they kid does not stop talking ALL. DAY. LONG.

Act 3:  Helping with workshop in Princess Lolly's kindergarten class.

Sitting at a table with three of Lolly's classmates, one of the little girls invites me to her birthday party.  She gives me her address, tells me who is going to be there and what kind of cake they are going to have.  I ask here if Lolly can come too, and she replies, "no."

Act 4:  A quick trip to the grocery store with Frostine and Lolly

At the check-out stand both girls pick up a mini Farmer's Almanac and ask me "what book is this?"  They are both blocking my way to unload the groceries and there is a line forming behind me.  I quickly try to tell them that it really isn't a book for kids.  The checker then launches into a lengthy explanation of all the helpful information in a Farmer's Almanac and how she used it to plan her daughter's wedding.  Um thanks, but I really just want to pay for my groceries and get home.  Of course both girls were then convinced that we needed one so I had to bribe them with a cookie.

Act 5:  A first for Gloppy

Ever since he learned his colors, Gloppy has referred to the color pink as "bubblegum."   Today he suddenly switched to "pink" for pink.

Act 6:  Kid's playing together before dinner

Princess Lolly takes something that Gloppy was playing with and he asks for it back.  She ignores him and he starts to cry.  I ask her to give it back to him.  About four times.  I ask her if she is ignoring me.  She looks right at me and says "yes."

Act 7:  Dinner

We're having one of my kids favorite meals.  A roast chicken from the grocery store with BBQ sauce for dipping, mashed potatoes and sliced cucumbers.  My mom (Grandma Nutt) stopped by and was sitting with the kids while I chatted with my sister on the phone (about our mom of course).   When I got off the phone she told me Gloppy was asking for something that had to do with his BBQ sauce and she couldn't understand what he wanted.  Gloppy is not much for dipping any of his food, he prefers to eat his condiments straight.  After a little investigation I realized he wanted a spoon to eat his sauce.  He already had one, but Gloppy being Gloppy cannot use the same utensil for more than one food.  

Final Act:  Evening

The kids are in bed, the kitchen is clean and Mr. Mint and I on with couch each with our respective laptops.   He reads me an e-mail from a co-worker that says, "Give me a 2 second call when you have a sec."

Toothpaste Cookies

It's no secret that I have a sweet tooth.  If I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed, the first thing I reach for is something sweet.   I even use "sweets" or "sugar" as terms of endearment for my girls.   My girls are just as happy with fruit for dessert as a they are with a bowl of ice cream.  But Gloppy is truly a candy loving kid.  This has been fueled by my in-laws and I must admit, by me as well.  That kid will do anything for a Skittle.  He usually gets stuck on one thing for a week or so, and right now he likes meringue cookies.   Today he and I were are the grocery store together and he spotted these little gems.

They are mint meringues with chocolate chips!!!  Try to contain your excitement.  Chocolate and mint has got to be the most amazing food combination ever.  But after I told Gloppy that of course we could take the green cookies home, I realized these were toothpaste cookies.  My mom used to make just such a cookie every Christmas when I was a kid.  My sister and I used to call them toothpaste cookies.  I remember my mom whipping them up in her mixer, adding the green food coloring and mint extract and stirring in the chips.   Adding to the mystique of the toothpaste cookie was the fact that you had to leave them in the oven overnight without opening it.  It was pure torture.   I thought for sure my mom invented these little drops of heaven, but I guess not.  Or maybe she sold the recipe to the Miss Meringue Cookie Company and she's saving the proceeds for my inheritance.   

So thank you Gloppy for taking me on a trip down cookie memory lane.   I'll leave you with a picture of Gloppy enjoying his first toothpaste cookie.  Hey sis, do you remember them with the same affection?

Of Course

My iPod was charged, my running clothes were laid out right next to my bed, there was a bottle of water waiting on the treadmill.   Mr. Mint left for work around 5:30am per usual.  Around 5:40am I heard a door slam and little footsteps marching into my bedroom.   I look at the clock as Gloppy climbs into my bed and hear another set of footsteps joining the party.  It was Princess Frostine of course, because no one is going to get time alone cuddling with mom in bed if she can help it (especially her little brother!).  

Now my kids have always been early risers.  It is the price I pay for my early to bed philosophy.  But if they are awake before 6am, I try to get them to go back to sleep.  If there is just one of them in my bed this usually works, but add a sibling into the mix and I might as well forget it.  

I considered taking them downstairs with me and putting the TV on while I ran.  While my kids like TV, they are not the type to get totally sucked in.  If there is something more interesting going on they could care less about TV.   Since the treadmill has only been out for a few days, it is far too tempting to sit right next to me while I am running with a litany of questions.  "When is it our turn?"  "How much longer are you going to run?"  "What are we going to have for breakfast?"  How many more minutes are you going to run?"  "Mom, are you sweating?"  "How high do I have to count until you are done?"  You get the idea.

My point is, I was looking forward to just a nice run on my treadmill without all the other distractions.  So we all stayed in bed until Princess Lolly came in and we started the day.  Of course once I was up the day got away from me.  

So apparently there are still some excuses left. 

A little background

Princess Lolly and Princess Frostine have a playdate over this afternoon. After spending the first hour dancing with each other and getting dressed up in princess attire, they got hungry. I supplied them with a smoothie (chocolate soy milk, banana, ice and peanut butter) and now they are making bead necklaces. While they chat and string beads I have a few moments to myself.

Gloppy the Chocolate Monster is at King and Queen Kandy’s house (otherwise known at Ba and Dada or my in-laws). They live about 20 minutes south of us and every Thursday after I pick him up at Tiny Tots I drive him down there to spend the night. Usually the whole family drives down on Friday to pick him up. It is a nice perk of having family so close by. It had been a long journey for my with my in-laws. I wrote an article for my local mother’s club newsletter about it about a year ago.

Here is the article:
To say I got off to a rocky start with my in-laws is a bit of an understatement. My husband is an East Indian from London whose parents had a traditional arranged marriage. I, on the other hand, am a blond-haired, blue-eyed white girl with Mid-Western parents, who had never even tasted Indian food. Let’s just say that I wasn’t exactly what they had in mind for their only son. For fear of their reaction my husband didn’t even tell them he had a girlfriend until after we had moved in together. Even after our relationship was out in the open and going on 4 years, they sent him a list of potential brides complete with bios and pictures. Once we got engaged, they realized I wasn’t just a phase. They made an effort to get to know me, but it’s accurate to say that things were still chilly between us.

After the chaos of wedding planning, they began to soften a little. We had a traditional Indian ceremony as well as a Christian church ceremony. The wedding also brought out a lot of the differences between our upbringings. My family is small, and I was never really very close to either sets of my grandparents. My husband on the other hand has several aunts and uncles, tons of cousins and was clearly the favorite of his Ba (grandmother). Each new “aunty” I met told me that Mr. Mint was their favorite. My in-laws thought 800-1000 wedding guests was a good number. I don’t think I even know this many people, let alone that I would invite to my wedding. I felt a little bit like a fish out of water during the Indian ceremony, which was conducted all in Gujarati and lasted about an hour. My girlfriends loved dressing in saris though and my whole family thought all the rituals were fascinating.

Even after we’d been married for a year and I became pregnant with twins, things were still a little strained. Whenever we were at their house, they only spoke in Gujarati leaving me feeling out of place and more than a little bitter. After the girls were born, I became fiercely protective of them. It started in the hospital, when they came into my room with a bag full of Indian food and a few relatives I had never met. My in-laws were full of advice about everything from what I should be eating to how to get Princess Lolly and Princess Frostine to sleep. I was so overwhelmed with taking care of my twins that polite responses to their inquiries about why my babies cried so much were beyond my capabilities.

As the girls got a little older, my in-laws grew into typical grandparents. They gave my toddlers all the M&M’s they wanted, spoiled them with way too many loud, plastic toys and called every day. They often got annoyed with me if I was too busy to answer the phone or we didn’t visit them often enough. Every time the girls were ill they had some new home remedy that I thought was nuts, like putting onion slices around your house to help cure a cold. When they babysat, I knew the girls would be up past their bedtime. Looking back I wish I could have been more relaxed about it all. But I was a first time mom and religious about the girl’s routine. Every time they didn’t follow my instructions it felt like a personal insult. I think I also still harbored feelings of resentment toward them and didn’t quite feel like part of their family.

Right after the girls turned two, I got pregnant again. I was exhausted taking care of two toddlers while pregnant, and I started to take my in-laws up on their offers to watch the kids more often. The more time they spent with them, the more I started to notice how much fun my girls were having with their Ba and Dada. My mother-in-law has endless patience with children and always gets right down on the floor to play with them. She bought them saris complete with lots of matching bangles and they had so much fun dressing up and dancing. She got them involved in whatever she was cooking and they were much more willing to try new foods at their house than they were with me. Whenever they came back from Ba’s house they were a little cranky, but I was so grateful for the help.

I agreed to let my mother-in-law stay at our house and take care of the girls while I was in hospital recovering from my c-section with my son. When I came home, all the laundry was done, the girls were happy and my husband was thrilled to have a fridge full of home cooked food. She stayed with us for a few more days. Though I was annoyed by her comments about how I feed my kids, the right way to give a baby a bottle, etc., as a I watched her with my kids I realized I needed to lighten up a bit.

The real turning point for me was a trip to Disneyland. My son was only six months old, and my girls were three when we decided to make the drive to LA. My husband suggested that Ba come along and having an extra pair of hands sounded good to me. The trip turned out better than I could have imagined. She sat in the back of the minivan for the whole drive down and happily fed and entertained all three kids. She really bonded with my son on that trip. She went on the Winnie the Pooh ride five times in a row with the girls, took my son back to the hotel so he could eat and have a nap, and my husband and I even got to go out to dinner two nights in a row! But more importantly I really noticed the relationship she was building with my kids. All three of them light up when they see her and her instinctual way of knowing how to calm a tantrum or sooth a boo-boo continually amazes me. During the trip, I came to realize that I was also a little sad knowing all that I had missed out on by not having a similar relationship with my grandparents.

After we got back I felt like I had finally found some common ground with my mother-in-law. We began to feel more comfortable around each other as we bonded over the drudgery and the joy of childcare. My in-laws are incredibly proud of their grandkids and even though they don’t articulate it, I know they think I am a good mother. That fact alone has really helped me put any past resentments aside and move forward. They must know something about parenting, after all they did raise the man that I fell in love with and married.

We recently moved and as a result are even closer to their home. Moving with three children under the age of four was stressful to say the least. We lived with my in-laws for a week while our new house was being painted and I left all three kids there for a couple days while we got settled. That alone has made me realize how truly fortunate we are to have them so close by. My son, Gloppy now spends the night with them one night a week. At 20 months, Gloppy knows more Gujarati words than English. If you ask him “Whose boy are you?” he’ll answer “Ba.” He’s treated like a king while he’s there and gets valuable time playing without his older sisters in his space. I get to spend an afternoon alone with Princess Lolly and Princess Frostine doing things we can’t do with their little brother around. I also get one morning alone in my house while the girls are at school (I know I don’t have to explain how priceless that is).

My three little children have helped me finally do what has been a struggle for the past ten years -- become a part of their family. Princess Lolly, Princess Frostine and Gloppy have something invaluable…loving grandparents that are near by to spoil them. I can only hope that my kids realize someday how lucky they are.

A couple of weeks ago my husband and I were going out to dinner in the city and my in-laws were coming over to watch the kids. My son has bad separation anxiety sometimes and he could tell I was putting on my “going out” clothes. He started to cry and pull on my pants every time I left his sight. As soon as Ba and Dada got there, he started laughing and waving good-bye to me. I know Gloppy stayed up way past his bedtime that night,. Even though Princess Lolly and Princess Frostine had already eaten dinner and were in their pj’s with teeth brushed, they had a second dinner of their favorite Indian dishes and glasses of milk right before they got in bed. This might have bothered me at one point in time, but not now. Mr. Mint and I had a night out without worry and without having to pay a babysitter. My children had their fun and attentive grandparents to themselves and got to watch Deal or No Deal. God bless in-laws.