Mistreated

I have not shared this before, but I have a phobia. The free dictionary defines a phobia as "A persistent, abnormal, and irrational fear of a specific thing or situation that compels one to avoid it, despite the awareness and reassurance that it is not dangerous." In my case, I have a needle phobia. I've had this phobia for as long as I can remember. This phobia played a huge part in my decision to choose natural childbirth - twice.

I manage it though. When I need bloodwork or a shot, I don't say no. I try to prepare the nurse ahead of time. I explain, through tears, that I am going to get upset. I will need to sit in a corner. I am going to try to pull away several times. I won't faint. "The key part," I tell them, "is that I won't try to pull away once the needle is in. I'm too petrified by then." I have to tell them that last part or they freak out. The entire experience is humiliating every time. But I do it because I refuse to let this phobia make important health decisions for me.

Last week I was sick and my doctor wanted to run some bloodwork. The extremely nice nurse I had been working with throughout my visit freaked out and left me in the midst of a panic attack to go get someone else to draw my blood. I'm pretty sure that is the first time I've actually scared someone off. She came back in with another nurse that she introduced simply as the office expert in blood draws.

I wasn't completely listening at that point. I really just wanted to get it done, but I nodded assent. This woman came over to me and told me, "Now, if you're going to behave like a child I'm going to treat you like a child and hold you down." Somewhere in the back of my not entirely rational mind I was pretty pissed, but I certainly wasn't able to articulate anything at that moment. She made the other nurse hold my arm down at the wrist and elbow while she used her body to restrain my torso. Then they drew my blood.

Being restrained pretty much against my will at a time I wasn't able to even articulate a protest contributed further to my sense of panic. To be honest, I felt somewhat violated and was left with a lingering sense of extreme dislike for that nurse. I gathered my things and left as soon as possible.

My husband wanted to call the office and lodge a complaint. My mother suggested I write a letter to the physician. I would feel bad about that. I don't hold grudges. I don't want a negative letter to be put in her permanent file or anything. Nevertheless, the incident lingers in my mind and I've been trying to put my finger on what exactly it was that I couldn't let go.

Then I figured it out. She said, "If you're going to behave like a child, I'm going to treat you like a child..." That is not how you treat a child. And it is certainly not how you treat an adult. No person deserves to be treated that way. If anyone had tried to handle my child in that manner I wouldn't have permitted it and I probably would have complained to someone in charge. Why won't I apply that same logic to myself?

Experimenting on Yourself - Never Recommended

Short Version:
I am going through some serious psychological withdrawal symptoms and some physical ones as well. This has made me uncharacteristically grumpy, rather depressed, and completely unable to focus. This is how you loyal readers have been granted with a whiny post rather than a brilliant and informative one. :-)

Long Version:
As you may know, if you actually make it down to the bottom of my Weekly Review posts, my husband and I have been trying for a healthy lifestyle upgrade in hopes of reversing the steady upward trend in our weights we've experienced since we got married. We've been tracking our activity levels (yea Fitbit - highly recommended) and calories in and we've both lost about 10 pounds in 12 or so weeks.

Then, on the recommendation of a coworker of my husband's, we read the book: Why We Get Fat by Gary Taubes. It is a very interesting read full of history and research summaries. I'm always disproportionately swayed by research. I'll give you a hint. This book essentially explains the science behind why an Atkins style low-carb diet works to help you lose weight, and helps with controlling blood sugar swings. We decided to try it.

Here's the problem. I love carbs. I like the sweet kind and the bread kind. I don't actually much like meat or fats (although I do love cheese). In fact, I would often substitute a small sugary item (hello mini ice cream cones) for a healthy snack during our previous 10 weeks of tracking calories under the assumption that 130 calories is 130 calories no matter what you're getting it from.

Nevertheless, we came up with a week's worth of breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and snacks that we were pretty excited about. After all, after 10 weeks of eating only 1200 calories a day, eating as much as I like of a subset of foods sounded kinda fun. We're all of 36 hours into our first week. Neither of us are happy campers. It is amazing how much I want something sweet even though I'm not actually hungry. It is amazing how little I've been able to focus today. I couldn't concentrate on the speech post I had planned. I didn't get any work on the s-blends resource I'm putting together. I usually enjoy those activities.

Someone tell me that you've tried this low-carb thing and that things get better. While I'm wishing, please tell me they get better sometime in the next 24-48 hours. Please?

Quick Trivia

I'm pressed for time, and so in lieu of a full post here's five quick fairly random trivia facts about me.

1. I read an average sized paperback book in 3-4 hours. This sounds wonderful until you realize how quickly I can blow through a $40, 5-book series and how long I have to wait for the next installment to be published.
2. I'm a cat person. Aside from two years in a college dorm, I've never lived without a cat. Currently, we have four. (I also adore ferrets. I owned one in graduate school and refuse to get rid of the cage just in case we have room for another at some point in the future.)
3. When we were young, I once told a cousin that I was going to have eight children. I believe the assertion had something to do with why he should sit in the middle of the back seat and cede the preferred door seat to me. (Don't ask.) He likes to periodically ask me when I'm going to deliver the additional six children he had been promised.
4. I'm fairly short - 5'1". My first job post graduate school was in a middle school and the children would often mistake me for another student in the halls.
5. I have an inexplicable love of sharpies. I recently told my husband that a bouquet of sharpies would be much superior to a bouquet of flowers.

Time to Stop the Upwards Creep

I've discussed this before. I could search for the post (or two) and link to them, but I'm pretty sure that would be a depressing exercise emphasizing how long I've been postponing this particular battle so I'm going to skip that part.

I've been gaining weight. Steadily. I put on weight with the back-to-back pregnancies. That's fairly typical. Ever since I stopped breastfeeding though, I've been trending upwards rather than back down. The craziness that was life with an infant and toddler, and then two toddlers, and then a preschooler and toddler (etc.) prevented me from focusing on it overly much. Once or twice I'd try to start a regular exercising habit only to abandon it a week or so later.

It's time though. The children are older. In about a month they'll both be in preschool five mornings a week. My husband and I have been working on a new plan of attack for about a month now and so far it is working. I'm down about 6 1/2 pounds. I have many more to go, but that's a pretty decent start.

We had to get geeky about it though. We're using a calorie tracking app called Lose It on our iPhones. It is a free app. You can simply scan bar codes in and then choose your portion size. It also has a pretty decent database if you don't have a bar code handy. It's amazing how warped my sense of portion size had gotten. Logging food intake is really powerful.

We're combining that with a device called a Fitbit. It's like a fancy pedometer that talks to your computer and you can link the Fitbit data to Lose It. It'll track steps, stairs climbed, and even your sleeping patterns. It'll tell you how active (or sedentary) your lifestyle is and then estimate the number of calories you burn in your average day. As it turns out, I'm pretty darned sedentary. I spend a lot of time at a computer. I needed to adjust my dieting calorie goal down about 250 calories beyond the target Lose It gave me in order to lose a pound a week.

I'm pretty sure the Fitbit was my missing link. I had tried calorie tracking before, but always abandoned it when it didn't seem to be working. I needed to know the piece about my habitual activity level so that I could start in the right place.

At the same time, wearing the Fitbit is encouraging me to be more active. I climb up and down the stairs a few extra times so I can get a badge for doing so 10 times in the day. (I have yet to get the badge for doing 25 flights in a day. I need to try that one day next week.) I take a walk with the kids so I can get 1000 more steps in.

The Lose It / Fitbit combo and regular weigh-ins showing it is all working is pretty motivating. Pounds are dropping off. I have more energy. I am having far fewer blood sugar "crashes" and random cravings. It's all pretty nice actually.

More importantly, this is sustainable. When I reach my target weight, the Lose It / Fitbit combo will give me an accurate idea of what I can eat to maintain that new weight, but not start gaining again.

Lose It is free. If you have a smartphone, you can use the app. If not, you can use it on your computer. I highly recommend it. If you have some extra cash to commit to the project, check out the Fitbit on Amazon too. It's been a big part of the weight loss puzzle for us.

Date Nights

My husband and I have recently begun trying for regular date nights. We're aiming for about once a week. That pretty much means that instead of engaging in independent pursuits for an hour or so after putting the children to bed and before falling asleep exhausted we are trying to spend a couple of hours together. We've been picking out a movie to watch. We watched Salt and Knight and Day. Knight and Day was surprisingly enjoyable. Salt was fine although not spectacular. Last night we rewatched the first Bourne movie which we hadn't seen in years.

My first rule for picking out a movie is that I absolutely do not want it to make me cry. When I only get a couple of hours a week to escape into a fantasy world the last thing I want is to spend the experience getting put through an emotional wringer. That rules out dramas, war, romances, and most romantic comedies. I'm also not a huge fan of horror. That pretty much leaves action, action/comedies, and some sci-fi/fantasies. Given that I've seen about five non-children's movies in the last five years, that leaves plenty of movies to choose from.

It isn't exactly high-class entertainment or an elaborate "date", but it is some uninterrupted time spent snuggled up next to my favorite person in the world. That's all I need to make me happy.

I fell in love with a tree... (A Story of a Quest)

It all started with a children's book.

The children and I were heading to check out at the library and Ava spotted one last book attractively displayed on an endcap. It showed a little girl in a green dress with a crown of pink flowers in her hair swinging from a tree full of pink flowers. She snatched it up and added it to our pile.

Later that week, when we finally got around to reading A Tree for Emmy by Mary Ann Rodman. It turned out to be a pretty sweet picture book about a girl who loves the mimosa tree in her grandmother's field and so asks for one of her own for her birthday. She and her parents found it difficult to find one and finally end up with a baby sapling from the ground below her grandmother's tree.

As I was driving around town, I began to notice beautiful fern-like trees with gorgeous pink blossoms. There's one on the drive to my parents' house. There's another on the way to the school where Ava has speech. After reading A Tree for Emmy I realized they were probably mimosa trees. I also quite liked them. Once I became aware of them I saw them everywhere. Driving around town with the family, my conversation with my husband would be peppered with interjections of "Mimosa!" accompanied by a pointing finger. On the train at Six Flags, I spotted and pointed out several. Taking the children to their private speech therapist, I noticed a gorgeous specimen across the street. Michael and I walked over to look at it close up while Ava was having her turn. I'm sure it had been there the entire year and a half we've been driving there, but only now did I notice it.

As we were driving home from Six Flags I decided to see if I could just buy one. Enough with the love from afar, I wanted to just get one. I had already decided earlier this spring that I wanted to get a flowering tree and hadn't quite decided which one yet. Now I was sure. I began searching online vendors. Of course, the abrupt decision to buy one ruined the anniversary (next week - 8 years) surprise my husband had been planning. That was sad, but now we would get to choose one together.

There are pink varieties (the most common), white varieties, and a dark pink (flame) variety. (Go here for oh so pretty pictures of flame mimosas.) Looking at pictures online I decided that the flame variety was the most striking one. Only one online vendor carries it right now. It doesn't ship until fall. And it is rather pricey. So, I decided to look for it locally. We visited and called several nurseries and none had what we wanted. I went back to the online vendor and searching for a coupon code stumbled across hundreds of very passionate negative reviews about this particular nursery so we decided against ordering from them. As it turns out, A Tree for Emmy was right about it being difficult to get your hands on a mimosa tree.

Then I remembered how Emmy got hers. One night, after dinner, our family went on a baby mimosa hunt. We drove and parked by the mimosa tree near my parents' house. It was on a common ground so I thought we could look for some babies growing under the tree. We brought buckets and little gardening spades just in case we might find a baby tree to dig up. The children were quite excited about going on a quest for baby mimosas.

Isn't the tree amazing? We nicknamed it "Mama Mimosa". But no baby mimosas were growing under it.



Then I looked down the hill and spotted three more mimosa trees growing on the banks of the dry creekbed.



I was determined to try everything to find some baby mimosas. But did you see that hill? And the rocks? The children thought all those rocks looked like a lot of fun. I thought dragging two small children down that hill carrying buckets and gardening tools sounded like a recipe for disaster. One one hand, I really wanted to search for some baby mimosas. On the other hand, I like my children healthy with no broken bones and no head injuries. Fortunately, just then a friendly neighbor passed by walking her dog. Hearing of our quest, she offered to let us go through her backyard down some steps to the creekbed.

To make this long story slightly shorter...



We found 11 seedlings. They had sprouted in a shallow patch of eroded soil in the creek bed. They had managed to grow in less than an inch of dirt over gravel and rocks. They would have been washed away with the next hard rain. We brought them home and potted them. To the best of my minimal gardening ability I am pampering them. (Please don't die, please don't die!) And now I have my very own mimosa. Well, to be more specific, I have eleven mimosas.

According to internet research the mimosa tree has as average lifespan of 10-20 years and grows to a height of 20-40 feet. So 1-4 feet of growth per year. How many years is that until blooms? Of course, I'll have eleven trees by then and what on earth will I do with eleven of them?


The end.


PS: If anyone has a flame mimosa tree near them and would be willing to collect some seed pods and mail them to me in the fall I would be forever grateful.

Who Does Stuff Like This Anymore Anyway?

Oh wait... that would be me.

It happened like this. I was ordering art supplies for the children and on a whim I threw in a set of simple wooden looms. I thought the children might be interested and we'd never done fabric/textile art of any kind.

I set it up and started demonstrating it for the children (who were indeed fascinated, but that isn't the point of this story). As I continued to weave I found it a calmly entertaining activity. I was pretty sure there was much more out there than under/over/under/over and I went online looking for some more patterns. Next thing I know I was using a shed stick and creating a shed space and even trying to jury rig a heddle. (Don't ask, just interpret as a ridiculous amount of OCD obsession over a tiny child's loom.)



Then I discovered pages on a continuous weaving technique and I fell in love with the Hazel Rose looms. They're just so exquisitely beautiful. I wanted them. I needed them about as much as a bump on the head, but I wanted them anyway. Then, (thank you in-laws) some birthday money came my way and I was 95% sure I was going to get those looms with them. I decided I'd better make some kind of prototype and make sure I actually enjoyed continuous weaving before spending my birthday money on those looms. So I made this:

And it was fun. And what a pretty square...



Then I got these (aren't they beautiful?):



And made these:



Don't ask how much time I'm spending on weaving instead of doing something useful like creating more word lists for all of you.

Now, the pertinent question remains... What am I actually going to do with all these squares?

Dysfunctional Stages of Adaptation (me)

Stimulus: Learn new information to integrate. (Current example: Michael has a mild tongue-tie.)

Response sequence:

• Panic, panic, panic! (Tongue-tie! Oh no, how terrible! It will ruin his life!)
• Self-recrimination. (How could I have possibly missed it, I'm an SLP? I'm the worst SLP ever. I'm the worst mama ever.)
• Online research. (ASHA: Tongue-tie is no big deal. Other sites: Tongue-tie is a big deal.)
• Additional panic. (It might be a huge deal. How will I ever decide? This is a huge decision...)
• Blog about it. Blog about it some more.
• Consult everyone who will listen for opinions (pediatrician, therapist A, therapist B, random family members, random casual acquaintances). Be swayed by the opinion of whoever is speaking at the moment.
• Begin to assimilate new information.
• Begin to calm the heck down.
• Gain some perspective.
• Realize that the initial sequence of reactions was, yet again, perhaps a bit over-the-top.
• Decide that the problem is probably not a problem.

The end.


Hmm...perhaps there is a better way?

Adulthood Independent of Parenthood

Last night my husband and I attended the wedding of a good friend. It was a storybook wedding. The sun set during the outdoor ceremony on a perfect crisp fall day. The bride pulled up in a horse and carriage. Everyone was beautiful and everything went perfectly. I felt honored to be invited to help celebrate such an important event in her life.

I put on a dress I hadn't worn since before Michael was born. My husband wore a suit and tie. My parents generously offered to keep both children overnight. We went out. We watched a beautiful ceremony, had a nice dinner, and talked with adults all evening. We felt very connected as a couple.

It has been a long time since I spent an evening out with my husband in a social setting that had absolutely nothing to do with parenting. I love my children. I love being their parent. It is a privilege. However, it was really nice to reconnect a little with what it felt like to just be us as an adult couple separate from the now ever-present parenting responsibilities. We'll have to try to go there more often.

Inconvenience

I am basically a people pleaser by nature. It just clicked with me in childhood like a baby duckling imprints on its mother. We follow rules. That's a fundamental truth. We try to make the people around us happy. Another fundamental truth. Being an inconvenience or annoyance to others is to be avoided at all costs.

As an adult I realize that this simply isn't possible at all times. I know that. I know it isn't healthy or possible to feel a compulsive need to keep everyone around me happy all the time. You'd think raising two under two would have beaten that out of me, but dealing with children is somehow exempt from all of the above.

Then it turned out that Ava needs extra help. In order to get her the help she needs I have to be her advocate, translator, chauffeur, personal assistant, and liaison in addition to raising her to be an intelligent, caring, responsible adult who knows, without question, that she is loved. In order to be this advocate for her I have to do things I find uncomfortable.

Specifically, I am asking her preschool office staff and teachers to make some accommodations for her. She has been receiving speech at school. Her teacher has been wonderful about it. She even helped us get permission from some of the other parents in the room to participate so that her therapist can facilitate her communication in a small group. Overall, the school has been wonderful too, even providing a room for them to work in.

Ava's third birthday is on the horizon and the school district is preparing to evaluate her in December. They've called the school to set up an appointment to do an official classroom observation as part of that evaluation.

Last week her occupational therapist expressed a desire to observe her in the classroom during play and during her lunch at school. She and I tentatively set that up for next Tuesday. I mentioned that to the preschool director as I was heading to pick Ava up from her classroom and I got a distinctly chilly vibe. She said it was fine, of course, but the subtext was clear [enough is enough].

It was just a little thing. It was, perhaps, 30 seconds of my day. She didn't even say anything, it was just a negative, inconvenienced vibe. And yet I'm still thinking about it. It's because I want to please. I don't want to be that parent who is a nuisance.

I need to get over it. I'm sure this is just the tip of the iceberg. This journey with Ava will consist of many more moments when I have to push, or inconvenience someone. It's just the nature of this particular beast.

The True Problem with being Sick

It is true, I suppose, that you can adjust to just about anything. I've been sick so often this winter that I've adjusted to the actual symptoms of being sick. They just don't bother me as much as they did at first. So I go another few days with sinus congestion or a cough or a sore throat. Post nasal drip, body aches, runny nose, and sneezing all get to be old hat. I'm certainly not saying I enjoy it. I'd much rather be healthy. I'm just saying that it's hard to get all worked up and self-pitying about it after the 15th time.

The thing that bothers me about being sick it the effect it has on my parenting. My children are actually at a pretty great age these days. When I am healthy, I sleep well and wake up energized. I look forward to spending the day with my children. The time flies by and we do all of our regular activities and some bonus ones too just because we are all enjoying our time together. There's a positive feedback loop. The kids are in a good mood because I'm in a good mood and I am in a good mood because they are in a good mood. When small conflicts crop up, they stay small because no one (mama) over-reacts and blows things out of proportion.

All of that seems to disappear when I'm sick. I am tired and cranky. Waking up and facing the day with the children seems more like a chore than a pleasure and privilege. The hours creep by. I pass the time by letting them watch television more than I'd like. They are cranky because I am cranky. I get even more cranky because they are cranky. We do hardly any fun activities and just get through the day as best as we can. That's what I regret most about all the time I've spent sick this winter. I feel like the illnesses are stealing some of my quality time with my children. That is the true problem with being sick.

Here's hoping for a healthy spring and summer.

Friday Night Fun

So many things enter your life with parenthood. Love, tenderness and pride. Fear and worry. Responsibility and fatigue. Many you are prepared for, and some you are not. You get through them all. Sometimes with grace. Sometimes not so much.

And then there's the illness. The neverending illness. I do not exaggerate. I'm pretty sure that we have not gone more than one to two weeks since October with everyone in this household being well. I personally have not gone more than a week and a half since January without being sick. I had heard that having children in daycare often involves them bringing home bugs, but this is getting ridiculous. They are only there two mornings a week.

Last night my husband entertained the children while simultaneously getting a quote to replace our rotting deck, played with the children in the yard, and then fed them dinner. All by himself. I spent 2 and 1/2 hours at my doctor's office walk-in clinic and then waiting for my prescriptions at Walgreens. Diagnosis this time: Bronchitis.

Someone tell me this ends. Please. Tell me that I am not going to spend three out of every four weeks for the next 16 years sick.

Now I'm off to drink more hot tea and to try not to cough too much.

Redecoration

I'm going to begin with the basic facts.
A few months before Ava was born we decided to move Michael into the guest bedroom and to give Ava his old room. My dad painted his room a wonderful shade of green and we bought beautiful wall decals to decorate the room. Well, the wall decals didn't go up for months and months, but we finally made the time. I entertained both children while Daddy painstakingly arranged the decals around the room and the room came out beautifully. Note exhibit A: beautifully arranged wall decals.

Last night we noticed a brand new arrangement of wall decals (exhibit B). Michael had borrowed bits and pieces of other arrangements to make a new one of his own. He climbed up on a chair in his room (multiple times I assume) to arrange the stolen elements next to one of the pictures in his room.

Initial reactions.
Parents: Did you do this?!?
Michael: No. (obviously a lie)
Parents: Why did you do that? Mommy and Daddy worked hard to make your room pretty!
Michael: I'm sorry. (looking pitiful and crushed)
Parents: (starting to feel a little guilty) Well, it does look very nice sweetheart, and we can tell you worked hard on it. But Mommy and Daddy worked hard on your stickers and we would like for you to leave them where they are from now on.

At that point we returned to the regularly scheduled bedtime routine and put Michael to bed for the night.


Parental Discussion
Dala: Why is it that our first reaction to creativity and initiative is to crush it? I'm feeling a little guilty.
(can still hear banging from upstairs indicating that Michael is actually awake and playing rather than sleeping)
Daddy: It did look pretty nice didn't it?
Dala: Yeah, and he must have worked hard on it.
Daddy: That's it. I'm going upstairs right now to talk to him about it.


5-10 minute delay


Daddy's report.
Dala: So, how did that go?
Daddy: He obviously felt proud. We went over and I picked him up so we could look at it. We talked about how nice it looked. He was relieved that we liked it.
Dala: You're such a good Daddy.


Your thoughts?
What do you think? Was our initial reaction as out of line as we thought? Would you let your kids intentionally rearrange their room decorations?

Illustrated Early Chapter Books

First, I just have to say that I wrote this post twice. The first time I wrote it I walked away without saving (always a mistake, I know) and came back to find the computer had mysteriously rebooted and it was gone. After crying a bit and wallowing in self pity I decided that I liked the post enough to try to recreate it. The second time I wrote it I saved about 30 times - every time a child interrupted me. And without further ado, here is version 2.0.

You start with a baby who looks at the pictures in picture books for about five seconds before wanting to chew on the book. Ideally, you end up with a young child who enjoys listening to chapter books. How do you get from point A to point B? (I'm just talking about listening to books here, not the child reading the books for him or herself.) In my mind I think of the progression as something like this:

1. Picture Books
2. Early Readers: These are books with multiple chapters, but each chapter is a separate story. Examples include the Frog and Toad series by Arnold Lobel and the Little Bear series by Elsa Holmelund Minarik.
3. Illustrated Early Chapter Books: These are books with multiple chapters that tell a single story. They are illustrated on every page.
4. Early Chapter Books: These are books with multiple chapters that tell a single story. There are usually only one or two illustrations per chapter. An example is the Magic Tree House series by Mary Pope Osborne.

Picture books are plentiful, beautiful, and easy to find and enjoy. Picture books are an interesting genre because they can be very simple and very complex. Some picture books have no words at all, and some are actually written at a fifth or sixth grade reading comprehension level. You can read picture books to children forever. You just need to start simple and gradually get more complex.

Early readers are also pretty easy to find. Step into Reading is a early reader program that goes through four steps in increasing difficulty. I Can Read is also a early reader program that has four levels. The Frog and Toad books are actually I Can Read books Level Two. I highly recommend any of Arnold Lobel's books as great early readers. The thing about early readers is that they are typically a single story or the books are broken into chapters but each chapter tells a different story. In the Frog and Toad books, for example, all the stories are about the same two characters, but the stories can be read in any order.

There are many early chapter book series. Magic Tree House is one of the most popular. These books are longer, often around ten chapters long. They are also much more sparsely illustrated than picture books or early readers. There are usually only one or two illustrations per chapter. It is a big jump, particularly if you are trying to transition to chapter books with a preschooler, from early readers to early chapter books. They just still need the pictures.

That's why I started looking for illustrated early chapter books. They were much harder to find than I expected. (There are a few, like the Magic School Bus series, that I'm not discussing here because they are just deal with topics that are not right for a preschooler. I need something that works for a preschooler, not just a grade school aged child.) Here are five series I found that are illustrated early chapter book series that would be interesting to a preschooler.

1. Mr. Putter and Tabby by Cynthia Rylant: This series is about an elderly gentleman named Mr. Putter and his cat Tabby. They have many adventures, often with their neighbor Mrs. Teaberry and her dog Zeke. The adventures are often simple, but the stories are sweet, the relationships are genuine, and the mishaps of the characters make Michael laugh out loud. They paint a porch, fly a (model) airplane, go on a train ride, bake a cake, in addition to many other activities. We've read almost all of these books and have enjoyed every one. There are three or four chapters in each book and each page has a full color illustration. These books are a great transition from early readers to early chapter books.

2. Cowgirl Kate and Cocoa by Erica Silverman: This series is about a young cowgirl on a working cattle ranch and her talking horse Cocoa. The books are beautifully illustrated on each page and the stories are accessible for a preschooler. These books are also usually four chapters long. I thought that the cowgirl and ranch theme might turn him off, but Michael enjoyed these and looked forward to the next one.

3. Henry and Mudge by Cynthia Rylant: This is another series by Cynthia Rylant. This one is about a boy and his really big dog named Mudge. Again, the pair have really simple adventures. One story is about a mud puddle, another is about camping, a third is about catching a cold. Somehow, even though the main character is a boy, Michael likes the Mr. Putter and Tabby series more, but this one is still a great illustrated chapter book series. These books are also usually three or four chapters each and are illustrated on every page.

4. Mercy Watson by Kate DiCamillo: These are books about a pig and her misadventures. The books are beautifully illustrated and extremely well reviewed. These books are longer, around 8-10 chapters each. We read a couple of these and then abandoned the series. I think that the jump in length was a little too hard and the content was just a little too old. It's close though, and fits the criteria of an illustrated early chapter book so I wanted to mention it just in case it works for you. We'll revisit them in a few months.

5. Flat Stanley by Jeff Brown: This series is about a young boy who became flat (only one inch thick) when a bulletin board fell on him. He has a series of adventures and solves mysteries as only he can, because he is flat. This series is a little higher level for two reasons. The books are longer, around 9-11 chapters each. The illustrations are not on every single page, and the illustrations are black and white line drawings rather than full color illustrations. We have only read two of these so far, but Michael seems to like them and the stories are able to appeal to him as a preschooler so I'm including the series in this list. Definitely try the other ones first though. They are more appropriate.

That's it. That's all I could find. If you know of any other series that meet my criteria of an illustrated early chapter book series that would appeal to preschoolers, please let me know. I'd absolutely love to find more. Otherwise, enjoy the ones I have found. I hope you like them. Let me know if you read them.

Thanks for the Positive Reinforcement

I've gotten a couple of nice emails this week and a few thoughtful comments. I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all of the readers that take the time to say something. I really enjoy hearing from you. I read every email and comment and make the time to reply. It encourages me to keep working on this website and lets me know that people are out there who enjoy reading the posts and find useful information here. So, thank you!

Nightmares and Dreams

I rarely remember my dreams, but I had what I consider to be the worst nightmare of my life recently.  The nightmare started out well, as they usually do.  Michael and I were in some kind of store having a great time together.  The shelves in this store were made out of a really lightweight plastic, and when a spot was empty on the shelf you could see through to the next aisle over.  Michael was on one side of the shelf and I was on the other and we were playing peek-a-boo.  We were both having a blast.  Then he started trying to climb through the hole to get to me and the entire shelf and all its contents began to fall towards him.  I tried to catch the shelf to prevent it from falling but I couldn’t hold it up.  That shelf and the next three shelves all toppled over like dominos burying Michael underneath. 

My first response in the dream was embarrassment – not worry.  The shelves were so lightweight I really thought he was ok under there and I was more embarrassed that we had made such a huge mess in the store and attracted so much attention.  Then I started frantically trying to dig him out.  When I found him, he was mostly limp and dazed.  He was confused and murmuring, “Mama” over and over again.  Then, in a flash, in the way of dreams I suddenly knew that this was very bad.  I cradled him in my arms sobbing.  I knew he was going to die.  Then I woke up.  My face was covered in tears and my heart was racing.  I felt sick.  Seriously, it was the worst nightmare of my life. 

As a contrast, I also recently remembered a good dream.  In high school I lived in Pennsylvania in a home with a pretty unique architecture.  For example, this house had two kitchens – one on each end.  It also had two bathrooms side by side.  The elderly couple who owned the house before us apparently liked to keep things separate and converted a screened in porch to an extra kitchen and one large bathroom into two small ones. 

In my dream my family as it is now (my husband and I, and Michael and Ava) were living in the PA house.  I was in the extra kitchen and found a previously undiscovered cabinet full of old toys.  The kids were elated.  As I pulled the toys from the cabinet I found a hidden door and tunnel.  We crawled into the tunnel and found a passageway that ended in a secret playroom and nursery.  The playroom was full of really cool 60s era toys and the nursery was kind of like the one in Peter Pan.   It was a bedroom for two decorated beautifully with two twin beds, small dressers, lamps, mobiles, a rocking horse, etc. 

As I describe it, the dream sounds pretty mundane and unremarkable, but it felt like adventure, discovery, and treasure all rolled into one and left me feeling happy.  Well, I was happy until I found out that I was awoken by my husband calling for assistance because Michael had thrown up.  Isn’t life with young children always like that?

Two and Three

Michael and Ava are only 15 and a half months apart in age. So, when Ava was born, Michael was a very young one. Parenting a one year old and a baby was… challenging. We got very little sleep. Michael didn’t understand that sometimes Mama and Daddy needed to tend to Ava, and Ava certainly didn’t understand that sometimes Mama and Daddy needed to tend to Michael. Everyone was in cloth diapers. We changed lots of diapers and washed lots of diapers. There was lots of crying. It was just a rough time. The learning curve for jumping from one baby to two was very steep.

Fast forward a year. Now the children are one and two. They’re both mobile, but not particularly steady on their feet. They’re still both in cloth diapers. Only one of them is talking. This was worrisome. They’re old enough to both want the same toy at the same time. Going out was a challenge because they were both at ages where they had to be closely supervised to make sure they didn’t tumble down a small step, or fall into the creek, or try to climb something they couldn’t get back down from. Again, challenging.

Now we’re at two and three. This stage is nice. They’re both out of diapers (except when asleep). They both talk (yea!). They’re both relatively steady on their feet. I no longer feel like they must be wearing long pants when they’re walking on the sidewalk to prevent bloody knees. They can feed themselves at the table. They can climb up and down most play structures successfully. They can both get up and down the stairs safely. Almost all the baby gates are down. Even the one at the top of the stairs is rarely used. They’re playing with each other. They’re having conversations with each other. I am starting to remember why I wanted my kids to be so close together. I wanted them to be playmates and friends. That is starting now and I like it. I’m beginning to feel less like I’m drowning and more like I’m taking control.

I expect things will only get better from here. Well, better until they’re both pre-teens and teenagers at the same time. That will be a whole new challenge that is thankfully still very far away.

What did we do with a huge pile of mulch?

Our yard is a soggy mess for days after each rain. Last spring we invested in a backyard playset for the kids. We got it for a very reasonable price at Sams and built it ourselves in the only spot in the yard that was flat enough for it. It turned out that the absolute soggiest place in the entire yard, the spot that takes days and days to dry out after every rain, is directly under the swings. We put up with it for a season, but now that the kids are a little older and able to use the playset a bit more independently (yea!) I didn’t want us held back by the constant mud. (As a quick aside, last year Ava could climb up but not down. She would climb to the highest level and then wail for me to come get her. Not so much fun for Mama.)

What I would love would be to have a landscaping company come in and install a patio and a drainage system for the yard. That's just a dream though. Instead, we decided to order $100 of high quality playground mulch from a great local company that delivers for free. They dumped the pile in our driveway.

My parents came over for the evening. When we all started the project the kids were very excited. They used buckets and sand table shovels to help fill the wheelbarrow. When it was full one or the other would ride on top around the side yard and into the back to be dumped out along with the mulch. They loved it. Several times Michael took his huge Tonka dump truck and pushed it to the driveway to have Daddy or Grandpa fill it with a shovel. He’d then push it all the way back and dump it on the pile below the playset that I was raking into shape. When the kids got bored with helping, my mom took over their entertainment while my dad and husband continued to fill the wheelbarrow and push it around back to dump wherever I directed them to go next. I did all the raking.

It took about two hours of labor from three adults, but the result looks great. All of the mud from yesterday’s rain is completely covered up. And the whole project was done for a reasonable cost. I think it looks great and I’m quite pleased with how it turned out. I’m calling it a success.

Selling baby things - or not?

I decided to bring in a little extra money and declutter the house and garage at the same time. This seems like the perfect time to do a little craigslisting and maybe pay for a month of therapy.

First I decided to list the double stroller. I truly don’t remember the last time we used it. I wrote an amazing, detailed ad for craigslist. I spent at least half an hour working on the ad. In the process of writing the ad I remembered exactly how cool our double stroller is. And I remembered that spring and summer are right around the corner. I started to think about how I could take the kids on long walks, carry all the drinks and snacks in the stroller, and then push them when they were too tired to walk home. So I didn’t post the ad for the stroller on craigslist after all. I did save the ad though. It will be all ready when I am finally prepared to let the stroller go.

Then I decided to list the cloth diapers. We used Fuzzi Bunz cloth diapers with both kids. Now they are pretty much both potty trained. We haven’t used a cloth diaper in months. We use 4 pull-ups a day – two at nap time and two overnight. So, I pulled out all the cloth diaper stuff, sorted it and separated it into three lots of 8 diapers each. I took pictures. I wrote the ad. Then I started remembering how nice cloth diapers are and how expensive the pull-ups are. Ava walked by and desperately wanted to put on a pink one. I started talking to my husband about how perhaps we should start using cloth again for naps. Well, I did list one of the lots of diapers, but at the moment I’m hanging on to the other two. Still deciding. Money is tight right now and pull-ups aren’t cheap. Perhaps I should switch back to cloth for naps.

I still have some wraps I used when the babies are little that I haven’t listed yet, and even I can’t think of a way to use them with a two and three year old so I’m hoping I’ll get those successfully listed without changing my mind. And there’s the single stroller and matching pumpkin seat/carseat base. Again, not much use for those any more. But so far, this project isn’t exactly leading where I’d hoped.

The endless cycle of feeding

I thought the feeling that you barely finished feeding your child before it’s time to start again would be forever gone after breastfeeding. Not so much.

To be completely honest, I am not a kitchen person. I don’t have a history of enjoying cooking. I have no significant experience or skills or natural inclination to cook. To some extent, necessity is the mother of invention. I am interested in feeding my children healthy food. I made baby food when they were little. Michael ate pretty much everything. Ava not so much. I actually stopped making baby food and switched to finger foods pretty quickly because she just didn’t seem to like the baby food and it was a lot of work.

Now that they’re at the toddler / preschool stage I find myself in a serious rut. For breakfast they eat a banana, baby yogurt (whole fat, supplemented with iron) with some multi-grain baby cereal mixed in, or a relatively healthy cereal (Cheerios, Mini-Wheats, Kashi) dry. This is pretty much every day. Lunch is fish sticks and sweet potato fries, peanut butter crackers and carrots and grapes, and whole grain pasta with peas and parmesan. I’m having trouble thinking of more. Dinner is often some kind of pasta: spaghetti and salad or cheese tortellini and broccoli. If my husband takes over it might be pot roast or chicken from a crock pot. We tried hamburger helper. The kids won’t eat it so that was kind of a fail. Not really a nutritional win anyway.

There must be more simple, picky toddler friendly, quick meal ideas out there right? I came across a website devoted to healthy meals for small children. We found some ideas we like and were inspired to try for a very simple goal. We want to make one week of meals that we can regularly prepare here at home that minimize dependence on pre-packaged material, have some variety in all the food groups, and that the whole family will eat. (Ok. We had to give Ava a pass on three of the dinners. It just wasn’t possible. She'll eat leftovers or just the sides on those nights.) Just one week’s worth of meals. I’m willing to eat the same thing week after week. That’s what I’m doing now anyway really. Maybe we can eventually build up to a Week A and Week B plan, but let’s start small.

Here’s the current rough draft of the meal plan. We’re starting this week. Wish me luck. Tuesday and Thursday have no lunch because they eat at school. Friday’s lunch has a question mark because we usually meet my husband at work and all eat Chick-Fil-A for lunch on Fridays. The arrows to the right on Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday breakfasts indicate planning to eat leftovers from the day before.

So, does anyone have other suggestions? What are your “go to” meals? I could really, really use the help.