Just when you've given up all hope on motherhood...

This last week has been difficult, parenting-wise. After last week's busy-ness (VBS, staying up late at our family reunion, 4th of July and sickness all around), the kids have finally hit their limit. There has been fighting and grumpiness non-stop... and my patience has been waning.

But just when I had given up all hope, something magical happened.

I came downstairs and found this:

My son, without any parental prompting, made me a "present" complete with Star Wars "gift bag" and took paper and a marker to his Daddy to dictate a message to me.

Here's what my sweet boy put inside the present he made for me. Some favorite little toys and trinkets. He was so excited about giving it to me.And here's the card.

It's hard to photograph the words because he used blue marker on blue paper.

It reads:

Dear Mom,

We love you, and it's Bennett Clark Anderson and it's Daddy.

I love you for the sweet words you say and because you're so beautiful and pretty. We love you so much!

Sigh.

And just like that all my frustration melts away, and once again, I am reminded why motherhood, despite its many difficulties, is such a precious gift...

...moments like these.

Our Kids and the Power of Our Words

Something that has been on my heart and in my thoughts a LOT lately is the power of our words when we speak about our kids.

We've all done it... or at least heard someone do it...

You are out and about, and your child is behaving really well. A stranger or maybe a friend stops to comment:

"She is such a good girl!"

And then it happens. You reply with a "Well, she's not always this good. You should see her at home. I'm just waiting for her to fall apart any minute."

I don't know why we do this as mothers, but it seems like we often feel the need to temper positive, glowing comments about our child with more realistic ones that remind others of our child's many imperfections.

I have definitely been guilty of this on more than one occasion and have also heard many other Mama's do the same thing.

Lately, it has really come to my attention how much these words affect our children's behavior.

We may not realize it, but our kids hear the comments we make about them. And it really does affect their behavior in a negative way.

Kids live up to the reputation you give them.

If you are constantly referring to them as a troublemaker or a sassy-pants, they will live up to it. That is why it is SO important to speak positive words about our kids every chance we get, look for the best in them and give them a good reputation to live up to.

I was recently talking to my friend Cassi about this, and she recounted a child psychology study she read that really impacted her. It went like this: (sorry if I butcher it, Cas!)

A couple had a little girl who was quite the little discipline problem. She was always getting into mischeif. Therefore, they had given her the nickname of "Little Devil." They would say it affectionately, like "Here comes our little devil!" I'm sure they didn't mean to be critical and just thought it was a silly nickname for a sassy little girl.

Upon asking for advice on how to deal with their child's behavior issues, someone suggested that they begin calling their child a more positive nickname. So instead of "Little Devil" they began calling her their "Little Lamb."

And the miracle is that within a week or two, this little girl's behavior completely turned around. Just from that one change. Her parents gave her a reputation of being a sweet, gentle girl, and she lived up to it.

Isn't that amazing? We as parents are largely responsible for our kids' self-esteem and helping them to identify who they are. When we speak positive words into their lives, even if it's not always true in that moment, we are helping to shape their personality is such a positive way.

Of course behavioral issues need to be addressed and dealt with. Those of you who know me know that disrespect and disobedience are not acceptable in our home. BUT the words we use when we deal with these things are HUGE in determining our child's behavior.

I've really noticed with Bennett how down he gets when I use negative words regarding his behavior. He shuts down, and I really can't get through. For instance one of the issues we have been dealing with is play-hitting and being too aggressive at school. My natural tendency is to say something like:
"Bennett. You NEED to stop hitting your friends at school. You really have a problem with keeping your hands to yourself. That is unacceptable."

All of those things are true. Hitting is not acceptable. But the problem is, this statement gives my son the reputation of being an aggressive hitter. It doesn't really help him. It just makes the problem worse.

So lately, I've been trying something more along the lines of this:
"Hey Benny, I want to talk for a minute about hitting your friends. You are a sweet, gentle boy, and that's not the way sweet, gentle boys treat their friends. I know your heart and that you don't want to hurt others. You want to please Jesus! Let's really work on keeping our hands to ourselves next time."

Notice, that I'm still addressing the behavior as unacceptable. I'm not giving him the impression that he is perfect and can do no wrong. And he will probably still have a consequence. ("I know you want to do the right thing, so Mom is going to help you remember not to hit by taking away your TV privileges for the rest of the day.") The main difference is not the end but the means. There are still consequences, but just explained in a different way.

And you know something... it works! A few weeks ago, Bennett's teacher pulled me aside to tell me how great he has been in school and how he has blossomed and developed so much more self-control. I really see so many more behavior improvements when I am using positive words.

Think about it. What do YOU respond better to? Let's say you said something really unkind about another person and a friend approached you about it.

Would you respond better to this,
"Wow, that was mean. I didn't realize you were such a mean person. I'm so disappointed in you."

Or this?

"I was really surprised to hear you say those unkind words, because you are such a sweet person. Is everything okay?"

Which one would turn your behavior around and cause you to have a change of heart? For sure, the second one. The first statement would just make you angry, embarrassed and probably cause you to say more unkind words.

I'm definitely no parenting or psychology expert. I get it wrong more often than not. But this just makes so much sense to me and has been so helpful that I thought I'd share. Maybe you have a recurring problem that your child is dealing with. I really encourage you to speak as many positive words as you can in that particular area, giving your child a great reputation to live up to. Please let me know if it works for you as well as it has for me!

Pow! Bam! It's Batman!

While hunting through our DVD's the other day, Bennett happened upon our copy of "The Dark Knight."

You know... the Batman movie Heath Ledger won an Oscar for after portraying a very dark and sinister Joker?

Bennett, seeing Batman on the cover, began BEGGING me to watch it.

In a word, NO.

Obviously, I would never let him watch it, but he has been SO persistent, thinking it is a Batman movie for kids. He will absolutely NOT let up on it...

Bennett: "Mom, can I watch it when I'm 40?"

Casey: "Yes."

Bennett: "Can I watch it when I'm a Daddy?"

Casey: "Yep!"

Bennett: "How about when I'm 5?!"

Casey: "Nope."

The sight of our brokenhearted, dejected little Batman -lover moping around all forlorn spurred me to action. Or should I say...

Bat-ction!

I purchased the amazingly corny, non-violent and PG-rated "Batman the Movie" with Adam West from 1966. I got it for $4 on Amazon, and Bennett LOVES it!

I surprised him Thursday at the beginning of "quiet time," and after many gasps and awe-filled "Thank You, Mama!"s and of course a detailed examination of the cover including a comparison between each of the characters with his own Batman figures, we began watching it.

I watched with him for awhile and then excused myself to get some work done around the house. As I worked in the the next room, I kept hearing him cracking up and saying "Woo Hoo!" when Batman "Pow! Bam!"-ed the bad guys or "Whoa!" when Batman did something exceptionally noteworthy. It was more precious than words.

And afterwards, we played Batman Castle and acted out Batman (I'm Catwoman... Meow!) for the rest of the night!

It brought me such absolute joy to see the delight in his sweet little face.

I love Batman Clark Anderson!

A Mo-month of Silence: The Mommy Time Warp

Wow.

It has been over a month since I've posted anything on this here blog.

Wow.

A friend mentioned the other day that she missed reading my blog posts, and I thought, "Oh yeah, it's been like a week or two since I've posted. I should get on that."

But a MONTH?

Does anyone else just feel like time is flying by? Like it's Thanksgiving, and I still haven't gotten to that Fourth of July craft yet?

I often have moments where an entire week (or month, apparently) is gone and I have no idea where it went.

I can't speak for other Mamas, but for me, I am learning that this is just how life is in this season of mothering young kids. And that's okay.
Some days it feels like all I can be is Mommy to two kids and wife to McPreachy. That's it. I get so into Mommy-mode that I don't realize how fast life is going by outside our sparkling clean somewhat clean, peaceful somewhat chaotic home.

We had a great speaker at our MOPS group the other night who reminded us that it's okay if certain things in our life are chaotic, forgotten or not done as well as we would like. It's just a season. And during this season, our most important job is to love, respect and honor our husbands and love, care for, nurture, guide and play with our kiddos. That's it.

Such a simple lesson... why can't I learn it?

So that's all I have for you right now by way of an update.

I'm a Mama giving it my all, trying to balance the most important things while ditching some of the lesser-important things (can we say pine cone Christmas trees and edible, homemade Cornucopias?)

Balance and Consistency are two things I'm not very good at.

But I'm working on it...

...and I am SO sorry if I forgot to call you on your birthday. You know who you are.

Death by Bennett: An Epidemic

Just came across this video a few days ago, and I died a thousand deaths while watching it.

When my son is so precious it nearly kills me, I like to call it "Death by Bennett." This video is a prime example.

How did my boy possibly grow up so fast before my very eyes?

I love him so much, it hurts. He just can't grow up any more. I will not allow it.

Blogspiration: Choosing Joy in Your Homemaking

I was really encouraged/kicked in the butt by what Lindsay at Passionate Homemaking had to say in this post .

If you are a homemaker or stay at home Mama, you absolutely must, must, MUST read it.

I hope it blesses you as much as it did me.

Two Things: Today's Schedule and Green Month

Our days have needed a little more structure as of late. I've noticed Bennett getting a little antsy and cranky on days when we are home. I also feel a constant struggle between things that need to get done around the house and Bennett's need for me to play with him.

So today, in an effort to love-tap several birds with one stone, Bennett and I devised a little "To Do List" on our easel.

The rule was that we got to trade off picking activities for the morning. Bennett started off the list with play trains, and then I added in item #2 "Get dressed" (translation: let Mama take a shower in peace without trying to toss cars in the shower and asking her, "Can we pway cars?" every 2 minutes).

We weren't super sticklers about the order of things... that's just not how I roll. If Bennett decided he wanted to play trains again during "car play time," that's just fine and dandy. The main purpose of the list is to let him see that his activities are important and given priority in our day while teaching him that Mama also has other responsibilities at home too. It also keeps me on track and helps me balance playtime with work time. I actually really liked the way the morning played out using this schedule.

A few side-notes:

• Item #4 (Reading Lesson) is actually something we just started today. We had an awesome speaker at our MOPS group last night who talked about teaching pre-schoolers to read. She has a very user-friendly curriculum, which we purchased, and I'm excited about it. Check out her website for more info.

• Item #5 (Green Hunt) is referring to our theme for March, Green Month! Bennett is VERY into his favorite color being green right now. If I hand him a blue plate, he will quickly (and somewhat politely) remind me that blue is NOT his favorite color. So for March, I decided that instead of focusing on Shamrocks or Leprechauns, we would focus on green. Bennett is VERY excited about it.

• One item that somehow didn't make it onto the To Do List was: "Make a fort using every toy bin in the playroom, thereby dumping every toy we own onto the ground." Oh, but don't worry. Bennett took care of that item while I was getting dressed (#2).

• Today's activity, the "green hunt" was just walking around the neighborhood looking for things that are green. We picked up leaves, clovers and green sticks, and when we got home, we talked about the word "nature" and what that means. Then we taped the leaves to a paper and hung it in the playroom. Simple, but Bennett loved it. I am learning with Bennett that he enjoys simple things MUCH more than big, elaborate productions. Even though I'm all about the glitzy, glittery crafts, that's just not Bennett's thang... and I'm learning to plan our activities accordingly. I'm trying.

But I cannot promise that we won't have some sort of elaborate rainbow/pot 'o gold fiasco on Saint Patrick's Day. Baby steps, people... baby steps.

I'm only human after all...

Play Room Cleanup: Mary Poppins Style, Yo!

You know what our girl Mary always says: "Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down."

Well true dat, Mary P.

Teaching Bennett to clean up his toys has been a struggle. He just hates to clean up. I've tried everything from time-outs, to losing toys, to sticker charts, but we always end up with the same result: a whiny boy, a messy playroom and a frustrated Mama.

So a few weeks ago I decided to take a page from Mary's book and turn clean-up time into a game. And amazingly, it really works!

Here is the bizarre, unorthodox, slightly disturbing game I invented. For some reason, my quirky, funny, creative boy just loves it.

When it's cleanup time, I run into to the play room with a scared look on my face.

Me: "Bennett, Oh No!"

Bennett: "Whatsa matter, Mama?"

Me: "Captain Hook is on his way here to steal all our toys! The only way we can keep him from getting our toys is by putting them away where they go. Come on!"

Bennett: "Hurry! Hurry! Don't let him get my dinosaurs!"

At this point, Bennett starts manically putting away toys while I go set a timer, telling him that Captain Hook should be here in 10 minutes and we need to get all the toys away before the timer dings. We keep telling each other, "Hurry! Hurry!" or "I've got the cars, you get the books!" or my personal-favorite Bennett quote, "Captain Hook's not getting this toy... No Way, Jose!"

Okay, at this point you are probably saying to yourself, "What kind of mother scares her child into cleaning up toys, telling him that an evil villain will steal them all away if he doesn't comply?"

My reply to you nay-sayers is simple: "The kind of mother that wants a clean playroom, that's who!"

Seriously, though, Bennett isn't scared at all. He knows we are just playing pretend, and he thinks Captain Hook is funny, not scary.

Anyway, we are usually just finishing up putting the last few toys away when the timer dings. At this point, I go call out the front door:

"Captain Hook, you can just turn around and go home. All our toys are put away
and you can't have them. You might as well just get back on your ship and sail
home."

Bennett is usually standing behind me with his pirate sword ready to defend our newly clean playroom if need be. But amazingly, Captain Hook usually just goes home without a word. And we go back to our nice, clean playroom with smiles on our faces.

So thank you, Mary Poppins, for the reminder that work doesn't feel like work when you make it fun.

Just when you think things are going well, you find poop smeared everywhere.

***Note: This post is not for the squeamish or faint hearted. There are horrible re-tellings of smeared fecal matter herein. Approach with caution.

First of all, I need to say what a wonderful son Bennett is. I adore him, and I feel so blessed to be his Mama. God really gave me a treasure when He knit sweet Bennett together in my womb 3 years ago, and not a day goes by when I do not count myself the luckiest Mama in the world.

That being said... here's a story for those of you who wonder if everything is always sunshine and roses in my neck o' the woods. There were no roses in my house today. No sunshine. Only fertilizer.

It actually started out as a great day. We got out of the house and off to MOPS without any meltdowns or issues. We even got through a grocery store-stop on the way home without incident.

Then came nap time.

Nap time and bedtime have been a real struggle lately. Bennett gets out of bed over and over and over again, and dealing with it has been exhausting.

Another *seemingly* unrelated struggle we've been having lately is that Bennett keeps pooping in the pull-up he wears for naps. He's been potty-trained for months now, and I'm positive he has plenty of time to make it to the potty when he feels the urge. So basically the pooping incidents are laziness on Bennett's part. I can just see him sitting there, thinking to himself:

"I really need to poop but I don't feel like walking over to the potty right now. I'm playing cars. I think I'd prefer to just poop in my pull-up and hang out that way while I finish playing."

Needless to say, Bennett has quickly figured out that Mama doesn't really jive with this lazy, poop-my-pants approach to bowel movements.

It was today... on this lovely fall Thursday, that our two biggest toddler struggles collided. It was quite an incident.

I put Bennett down for his nap, reminding him that he MUST stay in bed and that I'd be back to check in a few minutes to make sure he was obeying Mama. Then I went downstairs and got so engrossed in a few things I was doing that it was about 30 minutes before I went and checked on him.

Quietly I tiptoed upstairs, hoping beyond hope that he was asleep. And there he was, sitting half naked on the carpet playing puzzles. As soon as he saw me, he smiled up sweetly.

"Hi Mama!" he said with a grin. "Guess what? I went poopy! I flushed it in the toilet!"

I checked the toilet, and his story seemed to be true.

Even though I was frustrated that he wasn't asleep, I was thrilled that he seemed to have gone poop in the potty chair and not in his pull up.

And then came the kicker.

"Mama... " Bennett said, turning sheepish and pointing to the bed, "I got some poopy on that."

I looked down and noticed that his comforter was covered in poop. I began scanning the room, realizing that there was poop everywhere... all over Bennett, the bed and the carpet where he'd been sitting playing puzzles. Then as I walked toward Bennett, I stepped in a wet spot on the carpet.

"Bennett," I said, "Why is the carpet wet?"

"Oh," he said, matter-of- factly, "I went potty on it, Mama."

At this point I saw a soiled pull-up "hidden" behind Bennett's bed. (I put "hidden" in quotes because it was quite a terrible hide-job.)

"Bennett," I asked in my serious Mama voice, "Where did you go poop? In the potty chair or the pull-up?

My sweet boy tried to lie for a moment. I could just see his little wheels turning. But he quickly caved and told me the truth. "In my pull-up, Mama."

What happened next is a blur of baby wipes, carpet cleaner and discussions about being deceptive and how wrong that is.

As calmly as I possibly could, I cleaned and disinfected my son and the carpet. I put the bedding in the wash, put Bennett back in bed and went downstairs.

Then, I caffeinated.

And prayed.

Because sometimes the only thing that can fix your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day is caffeine. And the grace of God.

Message in a Toddler: Today's Reminder That All is Not Lost

The last two days have been... shall we say... awful.

So far it has been one of those bad-Mama-weeks where everyone is cranky, nobody naps, nothing gets done and I begin to doubt my sanity and faith in humanity.

I always find on days like these, that God sends me sweet, little messages of hope and encouragement, usually by way of precious Bennett (in-between whines, time-outs and meltdowns, of course). Here's one from today. It came just in time: right before I was about to drink 5 cups of coffee, eat frosting out of the tub and cry my eyes out. It might not sound like much to you... unless all you've listened to for the past 72 hours is a whining 3 year old and a screaming baby. Only then, can you probably appreciate how this sweet little moment changed my perspective today.

It happened during breakfast this morning...

Bennett HATES eating. We all know that. Therefore, I dread mealtimes. Whining ensues, discipline abounds, nerves are frazzled. How many times must I say the words, "STAY IN YOUR CHAIR!" before they sink in? So this was how my morning was spent, doing everything I could to stay positive and make eating oatmeal fun! But try as I did, we had several "time-out-for-getting-off-our-chair" situations.

Enter Diego. Bennett has this toy called "Diego Knows Your Name." It is programed with a timer, and at certain times in the day, Diego will just randomly call out things like: "It's time to sleep, Bennett! Animal Rescuers need lots of rest. Good night, Bennett!"

Bennett has been getting really irritated with this toy lately. He doens't like Diego's assertiveness or his suggested activities. He'll say things back like, "No De-go! I'm not tired!"

Then this morning, right after I told Bennett to get back into his chair for the 5 bazillionth time, at a moment when we were both pretty testy, Diego chimed in from the other room:
"Come on, Bennett! Al Rescate! To the Resuce!"

Bennett turned to the toy and said in a very firm voice, "No De-go! I eating breakfast right now, and I do not want another time out!" He said it with such conviction, all I could do was laugh. I had to stop right there and applaud my little man for not giving into "peer pressure."

Even though my mealtime-ettiquette training hasn't quite sunk in yet, this little event got me thinking that other things are sinking in. Like doing the right thing even when your friends (or demanding action-figures) tell you not to. There is hope. All my work is not in vain. And that little reassurance was all I needed to put the frosting tub down and keep on keepin' on.

Bennett Crocker: My Little Sous Chef

Lately Bennett has really started to love helping me cook. Without fail, every time I start cooking, within a minute or two, Bennett will come running into the kicthen. He'll look up at me with his sweet, puppy eyes and say, "Can I help, Mommy?"

"Can I help?" Sounds innocent enough, right? WRONG! These three little words can really stress a Mama out! Because when Bennett helps, I can be positive that:

• We will be making a mess of cataclysmic proportions.


• Egg shells WILL end up in whatever we're cooking.


• It will take twice as long to make whatever we're cooking.


• I will probably burn at least one food item as I try to referee my sous chef.

But more importantly, I've been trying to remind myself that when Bennett helps I can also be positive that:

• We will laugh together and have fun.


• I am investing in my son in a way that is meaningful to him.


• We are day-by-day cultivating a lifelong bond as we share these little memories.


• My son will know that I love spending time with him and value his help.

Messes can always be cleaned up. Egg shells can always be meticulously picked out of the batter before it is mixed together (well, almost always). But Bennett won't always be little. He won't always hang on my every word and get uncontrollably excited just to help me make cookies. So I'm taking the road less traveled by -- the messy, flour-covered, curvy, bumpy, super-fun road. And (I'm hoping) it will make all the difference.



Bennett and I made a cake together last week. Here is a picture of the aftermath. I know it doens't look that messy, but trust me, it was!

*Note: Only Mommy touched the knife, of course!






And here is the finished product. If you want the recipe for the most delicious chocolate sheet cake you will ever taste, click here.

My Nordic Friend: Things I've Done While Wearing a Baby Bjorn

I have a best friend. He is Nordic. His name is Bjorn.

Bjorn and I have done lots of fun and interesting things together. Here are just some of the things I have done with him tagging along:

Used the restroom (I'll just get that one out in the open right from the get-go)

Cooked dinner

Eaten dinner at a restaurant

Vacuumed the couch

Made pancakes

Gone on a walk

Gone on a hike (*see photo below)

Carried Bennett upstairs (with Mallie in the Bjorn)

Helped Bennett go potty (Sorry to say, but I think Bjorn got squirted ...)

Cried

Gone grocery shopping

Blow dried my hair

Painted my toenails

Mopped the floor

Watched a Movie (in a movie theater)

Airplane ride

Airport security check

Been utterly humiliated

Taught children at church

Fed the dog

Cleaned up toys

Played cars and trains with Bennett (while Mallie is in the Bjorn)

Played ball with Bennett (while shielding Mallory's head from near-concussions)

Packed boxes

Unpacked boxes

Rehearsed for a stage play (really!)

Checked my e-mail

Put on my makeup

Rocked my babies to sleep (my personal favorite)

Any many more...

I have often been asked how I can devote so much time to domestic things while caring for my newborn baby. The answer, my dears, is simple... and his name is Bjorn!

The picture up top is Bennett when he was around 4 months old. Ahhh... I remember those days, when Bjorn only came out for walks and the occasional fussy moment at the grocery store. Those days are long gone now that we have two kiddos. Bjorn makes an appearance much more often these days. Take for instance...

Our trip to Lake Tahoe, where Bjorn came through yet again. Thanks to my Nordic friend, our over-tired and cranky little Mallory fell asleep, and we were able to stay at the beach and visit with family.

And for the record, McPreachy and Bjorn are buddies too! Especially when we are hiking. (McPreachy doesn't trust me with baby-carrying duty while we are hiking because I am SOOOO klutzy!) So I guess I haven't actually hiked while wearing a Bjorn, but McPreachy has... and according to the Good Book, we are one.

Murphy's Law: The One Time I Forget Shoes

I'll just say it -- forgetfulness is one of my downfalls as a Mama. I am constantly asking my friends to borrow diapers and wipes. I've had to stop at Target during many an outing to buy a sippy cup, binky, or new pair of pants for Bennett. I am lucky I have so many well-prepared, non-forgetful friends. Alas, none of them were with me today. Here's what happened:

This morning I gave Bennett a bath, and as I was drying him off, I realized his hair was almost as long as mine. So I decided on a whim to take him to get a haircut real quick. (And so says the Psalmist, "Mom's say 'real quick,' God laughs.")

So I got ready to go, and with the help of my super-sweet husband, (who had already cleaned the kitchen for me this morning, too!) piled the kids in the car. I even told Bennett we could go to the McDonald's play place on the way home from our haircut. I was feeling like I had things pretty together.

We arrived at the haircut place, and as I opened the back door to get Bennett out, I realized he had no shoes on. Suddenly I remembered Neil saying, as he was buckling Bennett into the car, "Honey make sure you grab Bennett's shoes!" I yelled back, "Okay! I'll get them!" only to head out the door empty-handed. Forgetfulness rears it's ugly head. Now, standing in front of the haircut place, I do a quick scan of the backseat, where an extra pair of Crocs is almost ALWAYS lurking. But not today...

I decide not to stress about it. I say to myself: No problem. Just because my kid has no shoes on in a public place, that doesn't make me white trash. Or a bad mother.

So I load Mallory's car seat into the stroller and proceed to carry Bennett across the street while pushing the stroller with the other hand, which is a feat in itself. I make it to the haircut place, and a kind gentleman inside opens the door for me. It's a small, crowded place, and I'm instantly self-conscious about Bennett's bare feet. I am just hoping no one will notice. The man behind the register is friendly at first.

"Hi! Just sign in, and we'll be with you in a... WAIT! Do you have shoes for him?"

The room is silent. Everyone in the small, crowded, space is now staring at White-Trash-Mom and her son's bare feet. In typical Casey fashion, I try to just charm my way out of my embarrassment.

Me: "No... can you believe it?! We ran out of the house and completely forgot shoes!" Smile, smile, smile...

Man: (not even remotely charmed) I'm sorry, but if he doesn't have shoes, you'll have to leave. It's part of our health code."

I feel the judgement of not only the man behind the counter (who will now be refereed to as "Health-Code Nazi") but of all the other moms in the room. I can just hear their thoughts: What kind of mother forgets her son's shoes?! I even see a few eye-rolls and head-shakes. The only one who is nice to me in the entire place is the gentlemanly dad who opens the door for me again as I leave.

As I walk to the car, I am both embarrassed and fuming mad. I mean seriously... are my two-year-old's chubby, little bare feet really going to compromise the health code? Quick! Someone grab the HazMat suits... there's a kid in here with no shoes on! Alert the Pentagon! Sheesh!

I carry/wheel the kids back to the car and decide that we're going home and NOT coming back! We can just get a haircut another time. As I'm unloading the stroller and putting it back into the trunk, a sweet, older lady who is parked next to me says, "Wow, I don't know how you young mom's today do it." And then, looking at the kids,"Your kids are just so beautiful." Those kind, validating words from a stranger just made my day and turned my attitude around. "Thanks," I said "I was kind of having a rough morning."

She continued to validate: "Raising little ones is so hard! You're doing a great job!" And with that my Golden-Girl Guardian Angel got in her car and drove away.

Then, I got back in the car and drove home. I grabbed Bennett's shoes, and we went back to the haircut place. We provided proof-of-footwear to Health-Code Nazi, got Bennett's hair cut and went to the play place. We ate McNuggets. And everything turned out just fine.

As we drove home (again) I got to thinking about how I myself judge other moms and how wrong that is. Shouldn't we moms be the last people to judge each other? Shouldn't we stick together because we know how darn hard it is to take care of little ones. Today's shoe incident reminded me that instead of judging another mom, it's so much better to say, "What beautiful kids you have," or "Great job," or even "I have an extra pair of shoes in the car if you need them."

Because a little validation and encouragement can mean a lot to a frazzled mama.


Here's Bennett after his hair cut:

Humiliation at Trader Joe's: The Complete Saga

Today, after what seemed like 3 hours of preparation to leave the house, (nursing, changing Mallory's diaper, making Bennett sit on the potty, getting both kids dressed, getting myself dressed, packing a snack, packing a sippy cup, grabbing extra underwear and shorts just in case, getting my grocery list ready, finding Bennett's shoes, forgetting Mallory's binky and going back inside to find it, buckling everyone in, realizing I can't find my Baby Bjorn, searching all over the house for said Baby Bjorn only to realize it has been in the trunk of the car the whole time, vowing I will never take both kids to the grocery store again... you know the drill) the kids and I headed off to Trader Joe's (the most magical place in the unverse).

It was just your typical Trader Joe's trip: Mallory in the Baby Bjorn, smiling at passers-by... Bennett asking to have a snack from the food samples, asking for chocolate milk, asking to see the "Moo Cow" sign over the dairy case, asking to look for the stuffed lemur they hide around the store for kids. It was during this last query that our story really begins...

Bennett: "Mama, where is dat monkey?" (He doesn't know it's really a lemur... I don't have the heart to tell him.)

Mama: (scanning the cheese section) "Hmmm... where did they move the provolone?"

Bennett: "Mama! I want to find dat monkey pweeeaaassseeee!!!"

Mama: (still looking for that evasive provolone) "I don't know where it is, Bennett. Let's look in a minute, okay?"

Bennett: (pointing) "Ask dat blue man over dere." (translation: blue man = man in a blue shirt)

At this point I look to where Bennett is pointing and see a woman in a blue shirt, definitely in ear shot of our conversation. What makes it really bad is that she does have kind of a masculine quality to her. I am mortified. Like an idiot, I try to fix it.

Mama: "Oh, do you mean that you want to find a man that works here and ask him? Hmmmm... I don't see him right now. Let's go look!"

Bennett: (pointing again) "No, Mama! Dat man right dere!"

The lady is listening now, aware that Bennett is pointing at her. She gives us a not-so-happy look and turns to leave.

And I don't say anything. I just stand there with a red face watching blue (wo)man walk away. Because when your two-year old tells a woman that she, in fact, looks like a man, there really isn't much you can do or say to make it better.

Day Trip With the Kids: The Prologue

Tomorrow we are waking up bright and early and heading out on a little day trip to one of my favorite childhood vacation spots -- Lake Gregory, CA. It's a quiet, little mountain lake near Lake Arrowhead, and since it's such a nostalgic place for me, I thought it would be fun to take Neil and the kids there.

So like any mother taking her young children on a day trip, I have spent the entire evening packing snacks, diapers, sand toys, towels, extra clothes, sunscreen, juice boxes, burp cloths, wipes, extra underwear, pull-ups, more snacks and every other possible thing we could potentially need.

The only item noticeably absent from the appalling pile of beach gear littering the front entryway... is my book. Cause let's face it, when you take your almost-three-year-old and your 5 month-old to the beach, the only thing you'll be reading is the back of your box of Cheez-its. (Can I get an "Amen!" from all the Mama's out there?!)

Goodbye, sweet bygone days of traveling light... of spontaneity and reading on the beach. I must admit, I miss you a little bit. But my son's excited little face as he splashes in the water and the sweet smile he gives me when I make sandcastles with him are more than worth it.