Just like Pat!

It occurred to be the other night as I was watching Wheel of Fortune with my kids that I want to be like Pat Sajak!

Have you ever watched the show? There are three contestants who take turns spinning a big wheel and then play a glorified game of Hangman. As each correct letter is guessed, Vanna White, dressed to the nines, turns over the letter in a giant puzzle. Vanna may look gorgeous in her designer evening gowns, but it is Pat who holds the show together.

He cheers on the spinners, happily guiding them through the game. When faced with the decision of whether or not to risk all for the off-chance they will turn over a $10,000 pie wedge, Pat does the math for them so they know what they are risking.

Then, when the first spinner guesses an incorrect letter, gets a Bankrupt or Lose A Turn, he easily turns to the next spinner to assist them. He is unbiased, supporting each contestant equally.

That's how I want to be as a mother!

I want to support my kids as individuals as well as a group. When one does well, I want to cheer him or her on without making the others feel like I am playing favorites.

Pat has mastered this.

Will I?

REAL music please, Mom!

I was happily singing Christmas carols to my self while driving the boys to pick Princess up from an after school program yesterday. The radio was off and I was just singing.

Then I hear from the back seat:

"Mom, can you turn on some REAL music now?"

Everyone's a critic! Even the 5 year olds!

:)

Christmas Memories

Through the years I have found that in order to keep my sanity while mothering three kids, I have to hold on to some things I did before I had children.

I like to write - always have.

It does not always show in this blog because usually I am just trying to get something, anything posted. It is usually a picture or two with a brief explanation, unless it is Wednesday - then you are on your own!

I am going to try to write more and post pictures less. Or maybe I will just write more about the pictures I post. Time will tell. In any event...I have been thinking about Christmas lately. I think it was because my mom was here....

***************************************************************************
What do you remember most about Christmas as a child? Can you take yourself back in time? What do you see? What do you smell? What do you hear?

Christmas to me meant family. On the morning of Christmas Eve, we would pack all of our over-night-bags and gifts into our car and head to Grandma and Grandpa’s house 2 hours away. My sister and I would sing Christmas carols in the back seat, and, every once in a while, mom and dad would join in. As we got older, we even tried to harmonize. This would usually send us into a fit of giggles that lasted until we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa’s front door.

Grandma and Grandpa’s house was small. It was built in the late 1800s or early 1900s, and Grandma and Grandpa had lived there forever (or as long as forever is to a 10 year old). Grandpa had bought the house as a fixer-upper. Through the years he had added a bathroom – yep a bathroom – and a kitchen. He’d also spruced up the living room with some sleek, wood panel wall covering that was quite popular in the 1970s. This information came out years later. All I knew at the time was that this was Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and I loved going there.

When we arrived, Grandpa was always at the door to greet us and give us a great, big bear hug. He wasn’t big on saying “I love you”, but he didn’t need to say it. We knew. After hugs from Grandpa, we would race to the living room to see who could get to Grandma first. Grandma always sat in the very same spot every single time – the middle of three cushions on the sofa. I think this placement was strategic! She wanted as many people able to sit around her as possible. Grandma had arthritis. It was in her hands, gnarled and bent. It was in her feet – she could not walk without assistance. She had to be in great pain, but we kids never knew that. We just knew that Grandma loved sitting on the couch, watching soap operas, and doing crossword puzzles. Never once did I hear her complain, not once. When it was time for Grandma to walk somewhere, we raced to see who could move stuff out of her way the fastest. Then Grandpa would help her up, stand behind her, and they would walk together wherever Grandma wanted to go. I can still see them walking, swaying back and forth in time together, almost dancing, with Grandpa holding Grandma’s elbows to steady her. I remember them smiling and laughing as they made their way, slowly through the house.

Through the years, as my 7 cousins and I grew older, this extended family grew. Dates were invited, new spouses were welcomed, and babies were joyously received.

Some things didn’t change though. Grandpa always made a pot roast and ham for our big family dinner. The kitchen was his. My mom and aunts were welcome to help, but Grandpa ruled that roost! The Christmas tree, a small, table-top tree, was put up on a little table to the left of Grandma’s couch. There were gifts, although to be honest, I don’t remember half of them.

I remember Grandpa praying over the meal, thanking God for bringing us all together again safely and asking for our safe return.
I remember sitting at the kids’ table and wanting so badly to be at the big table.
I remember laughing with my cousins.
I remember my cousin Jason (now and Iraq war Veteran)and my Uncle Dick teasing each other. I remember non-stop conversation.
I remember trying to get the adults to hurry up already! It was time to open presents!
I remember my oldest cousin donning a Santa hat to hand out gifts. He was “Head Elf”.
I remember the laughter, the warmth of a full house, and having to open the door to let in some fresh, cold, Iowa winter air. We were a lot of people squeezed into a tiny house….

Most of all, I remember the love.

Dear Little Gray Hair:

Dear Little Gray Hair,

I have to admit when we first met, I thought you were cute.

"Look!" I exclaimed to my husband, "A gray hair!"

Jokes were made.

Laughs were had.

A comparison of heads was done.

It was funny...for a while.

Then I decided that I didn't like you anymore and plucked you from my dark brown head forever. Order was restored.

Or so I thought....

Through squinting morning eyes I saw you - in the exact same place from whence you were plucked. Only this time you brought friends.

"Humph," I said to myself, "This simply will not do." Out came the tweezers once again and you were all evicted with a confident flick of the wrist. Pluck! Pluck! Pluck!

I don't know how you did it, but in what seemed like mere hours, you were back once again...with noticeably more reinforcements!

So here I sit with a dilemma at hand. To pluck or not to pluck? You have proven to be a most formidable foe. Your resilience, as astonishing as it is annoying.

But you shan't win, clever villain! For I possess the winning strategy: Preference by L'oreal! ;)

Sincerely,
MomOf3

Written for NaBloPoMo's write a letter a day challenge.

Rewards and Consolations

It occurred to me as I was driving my heartbroken little Prince home after dropping off his big sister at DadOf3's work to have lunch, that it is within our control as parents to influence how our children handle disappointment.

The Prince was quite devastated that Princess went to have lunch with Daddy and he didn't get to go. Promises of future lunch dates made no dent in his mood, and I found myself brainstorming different ways to cheer him up. Thoughts of ice cream, shopping for a new toy, going to McDonald's, and giving him other sweet treats crossed my mind.

Then it occurred to me that in this very instant, I was teaching my son how to handle disappointment. This is a biggie because, as much as I would like to see him happy all the time, the truth is that disappointment is going to visit him again and again. Yes, it would probably make him feel better to get a special ice cream treat with mommy, but would that later lead to over-eating as an adult when disappointment rears its ugly head? And what about shopping to make yourself feel better? Would that lead to spending outside of his budget later when things don't go his way?

Maybe I am reading too much into this, but in the end, I didn't get him ice cream or another sweet treat, we didn't go to the store for a consolation prize, and we didn't head out for a happy meal. I sat him down on the couch and we talked. I told him that I understood what it was like to be the younger kid. I told him how hard it was to watch our big sisters doing things before we got to do them.

Then I told him a secret: Younger kids actually have more fun when our turn rolls around because we have lots and lots of time to anticipate whatever the event happens to be. It brought a smile to my Prince's face as we talked about what kind of food he was going to pack for his and Daddy's special lunch in a couple of weeks.

Kids are resilient. 5 minutes after we got home he was back to his happy little self.

Whew! Crisis averted! :)

A little modesty is in order!

Hmmm...I think it is time to kick the 3 year old out of the changing room.

I was getting dressed the other day, and my little Knight looks up at me and says, "What are THOSE mommy? Why do you have THOSE?" I told him I have them because I am a mommy. He went on to say, "I LOVE those!!"

Yep, definitely time to kick the 3 year old out of the changing room! Yikes!

What a Crazy, Busy Day!

Tuesdays are generally nutso around here, and today was no exception. Here is a play by play!

6:00AM - wake up and get Princess out of bed
6:30AM - make sure Princess is eating, brushing teeth, packing backpack, etc.
6:56AM - Princess's bus picks her up
7:00AM - Shower and get ready for the day before the boys wake up.
7:02AM - Sit the Prince at the table with a bowl of cereal
7:15AM - 2nd attempt at shower
7:30AM - Remember that school Silent Auction basket has to be turned in today by 9:00 and I still need to pick up a gift card.
7:35AM - Wake up the Knight
7:45AM - Drive to the Pet Store only to find that it does not open until 9:00
7:46AM - Curse under breath so boys do not hear.
8:00AM - turn in partial Silent Auction basket
8:30AM - Head back hope to pack lunch for the Prince
8:45AM - Frantically email other room parents to remind them to turn in Silent Auction Baskets
9:00AM - Pack lunch for the Prince
9:15AM - Drive Prince to pre-school
9:30AM - Get groceries with the Knight
10:30AM - Finish getting groceries and rush home to unload gr0ceries
11:00AM - Throw what is left of the frozen/cold items in the freezer or frig and head out the door to have lunch with Princess at
11:15AM - Have lunch with Princess while wrestling with the Knight because if he gets down he races through the cafeteria
11:20AM - Chase the Knight around the cafeteria
11:45AM - Bid farewell to Princess and take the Knight home
12:00PM - Feed the Knight again because he would not eat what Princess's cafeteria was serving
12:30PM - Welcome DadOf3 home for lunch
1:00PM - Set timer to remind you when it is time to pick up the Prince from Pre-School
1:30PM - Turn off beeper and head out to pick up the Prince.
1:45PM - Pick up the Prince and head home.
2:00PM - Change the Knight and send the Prince and the Knight to naps
2:15PM - Chase both boys back to bed
2:30PM - Field phone calls from a class parent who has a late donation to the Class Basket
3:00PM - Pick Princess up from the bus stop
3:05PM - Get Princess a snack
3:15PM - Start Princess on her homework
3:30PM - More homework
4:30PM - Homework is done!
4:45PM - Start Supper
5:00PM - Call DadOf3 to see how late he is going to be.
5:45PM - Welcome DadOf3 home!
6:00PM - Feed kids because they are bouncing off the walls
6:30PM - Chase kids upstairs to clean their rooms (DadOf3 did this)
7:00PM - Work on class newsletter
8:00PM - Bedtime for kids! Get everyone through the potty, brush teeth, pjs, pick outfits for tomorrow, etc.
8:30PM - BLOG ABOUT IT!

MOPS

I feel like I am back in the land of the living after taking a week or so off. And that was a week I will not be eager to repeat any time soon, although I am sure I will someday.

Of the 7 nights during that week, I was up for 4 of them either being sick myself or helping a sick child. And let me tell you - I would much rather be sick myself than watch one of my little trio be sick. They were all very brave for me though....

After being in La La Land for a week, I felt much better on Friday, and we went to MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schooler).

I was so glad that we went. I always am. Sometimes it is difficult to get us all out the door and to the church on time, but once we are there, it is simply an amazing experience!

MOPS is such a wonderfully uplifting 4 hours. We are all moms, mostly married, some single. Some are first time moms and some are old pros like me. There are moms in their 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s! It is Christian based but not "preachy", if you know what I mean.

MOPS is meant to meet every mother where she is spiritually.

MOPS is meant to get moms together to share their experiences with each other.

Women have a tendency to not always be willing to share life experiences with each other. I am not talking about the every day, trivial things. (We are good at that!) I am talking about the big ones like what it feels like to go through a miscarriage, how to deal with a marriage that is suffering because everyone in the family is exhausted, and things like that.

In MOPS, we are all able to help and encourage each other because more likely than not, one of us has been there, done that.

Sometimes moms don't feel like they do anything worth sharing because they are just moms.

Can you believe that?

Mothers of Pre-Schoolers are in the trenches of life, and those trenches are filled with poop and puke and tears as well as hugs and kisses and smiles!

We have to be "on" all of the time whether we are helping a sick child in the middle of the night or being up bright and early the very next day taking care of two well children ready and raring to go in addition to that sick child.

There are no sick days for moms.

We have to be able to explain the world to our kids in words that they will understand and then explain it again to someone who is two years older who has bigger, tougher questions. And then maybe we even have to explain it again to someone who is two years older than that who is asking questions about death and life and sadness and broken hearts.

There are daily pop quizzes....and sometimes we don't know the answers.

And we have to admit that to ourselves and our kids.

And that's OK because that's life.

But it is sure nice to know that there are other moms in the trenches too!

Experiment Movie Morning

Hypothesis: MomOf3 can successfully take the Princess, the Prince, and the Knight to a movie by herself. The movie in question is Charlotte's Web. (I cannot figure out to to underline here on blogger.)

Cost:

• Hypothetically, the cost is nothing because the theater is having free kids movies this summer.
  
• Actually, the cost was $10 because I treated the kiddos to a medium popcorn and a medium lemon-aid. (Crazy theater prices!)

Experiment: There are several movie theaters around town that are showing free movies in the mornings this summer. Because taking the kids to Shrek the Third last weekend went off without a hitch, I decided to test the waters and see if I could do this by myself.

The movie started at 10:00. Because I like to be early to things like this, we left at 9:15.

That was my first mistake....

Apparently DadOf3 and I were wrong (Stop the presses!) when we assumed that there would not be a big crowd. When we arrived at the theater around 9:30, a full 1/2 hour before the movie was to begin, there was already a good sized crowd. I decided to get in line for snacks because I didn't want to have to get up in the middle of the movie to get them. I had promised the kiddos popcorn and lemon-aide just like last weekend, and I wanted to keep my word.

This was my second mistake.

In retrospect, we should have just gone in and claimed our seats. It was CROWDED. By the time we did actually get into the theater, after having to wait in the sslloowweesstt snack line ever, I could not find 3 seats together.

After scanning the entire theater, I saw two seats together and ran for them, hollering to the Princess and the Prince to follow me. They were carrying the popcorn and the lemon-aide so they could only move so fast, but we got the seats!! I asked the Prince and the Princess to sit down and told them that I would find a seat behind them. I did find one, two rows behind them, but it was fairly close to them. It actually worked out OK because I could see their every move from where I was sitting.

After telling the Prince and the Princess several times to not under any circumstance get up during the movie, I sat down with the Knight on my lap, and we made it through 45 minutes of the movie before the Prince decided he needed to go potty.

Because there was no way I was going to leave the Princess in the theater by herself, I herded all three kids to the potty.

This was my third mistake. Let's just say that it was not the emergency potty break that I was lead to believe....

When we arrived at the potties, both the Prince and the Princess said that they no longer had to go.

My thoughts: "Oh no you don't! We are here and you are going to go!"

I didn't say that out loud though... I politely requested that the Princess and the Prince each go potty since we were there anyway. Princess complied, but the Prince had a minor meltdown. After that passed, they both ended up using the potty, and we headed back to the theater, crossing our fingers and hoping to get our original seats back.

When we got to the isle where the Prince and the Princess had been sitting, the Prince refused to go in. I had Princess go sit down and took the Prince to sit with the Knight and me.

The seat I had procured for us was actually in a handicapped accessible row. There was an empty space right next to us intended for a wheelchair. Because I had one seat for the three of us, I had the Knight sit on one knee and the Prince sit on the other knee. After a while, Princess turned around and asked if she could come back too. Of course I said yes. She and the Prince took turns standing next to the chair and sitting on my lap through the rest of the movie.

We made it all the way to then end of the movie!

Conclusion: We will definitely do this again with some minor adjustments.

1. We will go a LOT earlier next time.
2. We will get three seats!
   
3. We will not get popcorn. The kids ate very little and I don't need it!
4. We will get lemon-aide. They did a great job sharing.
5. We will invite friends to go with us so if there is a need for a bathroom break, we can divide and conquer!
6. If all goes well next time, we will attempt to shop afterwards!
   

All in all, I feel like this was a successful outing!

Prince Story

One of the reasons I started this blog was to remember some fun and/or funny things the kids have done. Here is a Prince story....

The Prince was pretty little when the Knight was born. They are only 19 months apart. In the first hazy, sleepless months after the Knight was born, the Prince started doing something that I wish I could have gotten on video tape. He would run as fast as his little, stubby 1 1/2 year old legs would take him and then slide to a stop, as if he were sliding into home plate in a baseball game. While still on the floor, he would look up at me with those sweet, expressive, baby-blue eyes and yell at the top of his voice, "I 'topped!". He kind of growled his way through saying the "I" and leaving off the "s" in stopped was so darling that, to this day, it still brings tears to my eyes!

The Prince is a great kid and a great big brother! He is kind of squashed in between the Princess and the Knight so we are brainstorming some fun things for him and DadOf3 to do together! Any suggestions?

Otis Asweep!

Here is another Knight story for you!

The Prince has a toy car that the Knight has just fallen in love with. It is silver and it kind of sort of looks like our van, Otis. Because of that, the Knight has named the silver car, you guessed it, Otis. Otis is a neat car, but he certainly is not the kind of car that you want a two year old to sleep with. The wheels could be easily bitten off, there are small parts, and I am a mean mommy. Before naps today, DadOf3 who was home for lunch, was trying to talk the Knight into handing over Otis the toy car. The Knight finally handed over the car and sat down to get a diaper change. As soon as his diaper change was over, he sprang up and sprinted back to Otis. I thought for sure that he was going to grab the car and run away with it, but instead, he had turned the car over onto its side. When I walked in, he looked up at me with his beautiful, innocent blue eyes and point blank said "Otis Asweep! Night night Otis!" It just melted my heart!

Duck Stew Anyone?

Well, my naughty little Prince got in big trouble this afternoon. After picking up the Princess from school and having some celebratory chocolate cake left over from DadOf3's and my anniversary, the Princess and the Prince wanted to go upstairs and play. Honestly, I was ready for a break after fighting through the crowd of other well-intentioned parents picking up their children on the last day of school. It was shoulder to shoulder walking into the school today. The Prince didn't like it one bit and started crying so I picked him up and snuggled him while we were waiting for Princess. I digress...

The Prince and the Princess went upstairs to play. I had to holler at them a couple of times when I heard them jumping on the bed or jumping from the bed to the couch in the Prince's room, but, all in all, they were doing a good job of playing nicely together. After about 45 minutes, the Princess came rushing down the stairs breathlessly saying that the Prince had broken the sink. Upon further investigation, I determined that the cause of the sink's state of "broken-ness" was lots and lots of toilet paper sitting in a sink full of water. When pressed to explain what could have possessed him to put toilet paper in the sink (and not to mention stirring this concoction with the Princess's toothbrush), the Prince merely said that he was making Duck Stew. His motive for being so naughty was confessed at the supper table and DadOf3 and I had to literally bite our lips (ouch!) in order to present ourselves as the the stern parents that we needed to be at that point in time. Duck Stew! Ha!

What Does a Stay At Home Mom Do All Day?

This was Carolyn Hix TELL ME ABOUT IT column today. I have never seen a more apt description of being a stay at home parent:

===================================================================

Carolyn:

Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group . . .

kay. I've done Internet searches, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them EVERY DAY. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events) and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy -- not a bad thing at all -- but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a peeing contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.

Tacoma, Wash.

Relax and enjoy. You're funny.

Or you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

Internet searches?

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.

So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid (or 3 kids!), one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything -- language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand or keep your snit to yourself.

Knight Story

One of the purposes of this blog is to record funny things that the kids do and say so I do not forget them later.

The Knight has a new thing he is doing that just cracks me up. Usually when he does this I am sitting at the kitchen table. He grabs my hand, pulls it as hard as he can, and then yells at the top of his lungs: "Let go of me! (Wet gwow a me!)" I am not sure where this came from but it sure is funny!

Princess Story

My then three year old daughter, the Princess, and her 1 year old brother, the Prince, were horsing around while my husband, DaddyOf3, was getting ready for work. It escalated to the point where DaddyOf3 had to turn around and reprimand them. He uncharacteristically lost his temper and yelled, “You kids are driving me nuts!” The next day, the Princess was playing with her toy cars. As she made her car drive rather forcefully back and forth, she yelled, “I am driving on Daddy’s nuts!”

Banana Bread

I wrote this a couple of months after the Knight was born:

The Art of Making Banana Bread With A 3 ½ Year Old, A 1 ½ Year Old, And A 2 Month Old After 3 Hours Of Sleep

Feed your 2 month old prior to beginning this endeavor.
Buy some additional time, by burping him and changing his diaper as well.
After you coax out a nice big, juicy burp from your baby, change his outfit and wipe his face.
Change your own shirt after your 3 ½ year old points out that you too are covered in spit-up.
Place your 2 month old in a portable bassinet near the kitchen, give him his binky, and attempt to win his support in the banana bread making process.
Bravely turn off the television before Dora the Explorer starts. This ensures your kids’ full attention.
Brace yourself for cries of angst following Dora’s expulsion from the living room.
Reaffirm to your children that baking banana bread is a much more productive way to spend their morning than watching television.
Turn on stereo to drown out any cries to the contrary.
Choose inspirational, upbeat CDs to motivate yourself and remind yourself of the studies proving that too much television is bad for your kids.
Pick up your 2 month old and dance with him while your 3 ½ year old and 1 ½ year old overcome their Dora withdrawal.
After giving your 3 ½ year old and 1 ½ year old a whirl around the living room following their cries of “Me next!” announce in your best “overly excited pre-schooler voice” that it is now time to start making the banana bread!!!
Instruct your older children to sit in their chairs at the table to await further instruction.
Quiet the shrill demands of your 3 ½ year old with the promise that yes she can indeed be the one to “squash up” the bananas.
Reassure your 1 ½ year old that he will get a job just as fun later in the banana bread making process.
Retrieve 4 overly ripe bananas from the kitchen counter.
Attempt to explain to your 1 ½ year old that, no, the bananas are not for him to eat but rather they are an ingredient to the banana bread.
Calm the angry cries of your 1 ½ year old with a sippie cup of milk.
Go to your 2 month old and calm him down as well since the protests from your 1 ½ year old have awoken him.
Repeat steps 2-4.
Peel a banana and place it in, for obvious reasons, a non-breakable bowl.
Hand your 3 ½ year old a fork and the bowl and ask her to start squashing the bananas.
Shake your head and bite your tongue when she yells at you for getting a fork out of the drawer for her because “I can do it myself!!!!!”
Put previously retrieved fork back in drawer and allow 3 ½ year old to “re-get” the fork all by herself
Demonstrate banana squashing technique and ask your 3 ½ year old to replicate.
Remind your 3 ½ year old to keep the bowl away from the edge of the table.
Say a quick prayer of thanks when the bowl, while dancing very close to the edge of the table, does not fly off of it and hit the floor.
One by one, peel and place the remaining 3 bananas in the bowl, allowing your 3 ½ year old to squash all bananas in turn.
Ask your 1 ½ year old to choose a mixing bowl from the Tupperware drawer in your kitchen.
When your 3 ½ year old announces that she can do that, explain to her that she got to squash the bananas so now it is her brother’s turn for a job.
Tell your 3 ½ year old that you will stop making banana bread that instant if she keeps yelling like that!
Repeat steps 2-4.
Pick up the excess bowls that your 1 ½ year old has thrown out of the Tupperware drawer, keeping one appropriately sized banana bread making bowl.
Place in this bowl one stick of butter that has been sitting patiently on your counter for 3 days waiting for you to make banana bread.
Deny your daughter’s request to mix the butter, explaining that more ingredients are needed before that can happen.
Add 1 ¼ cups sugar.
Explain the difference between stirring and pounding.
Wipe up spilled sugar from the table and add ¼ cup additional sugar to replace what has been expelled.
Ask 3 ½ year old for the coveted spoon.
Smile when she gives it to you without hesitation, and mix the butter and the sugar yourself.
Open the refrigerator door to retrieve 2 eggs.
Chase down 1 ½ year old and rescue ketchup, mustard, and barbeque sauce bottles that your 1 ½ year old has swiped while the refrigerator door was open.
Put away the ketchup, mustard, and barbeque sauce bottles, cutting 1 ½ year old off at the pass as he attempts to grab a gallon of milk.
Scratch your head and wonder what were you going to the refrigerator for again?
Feel slightly inadequate as your 3 ½ year old yells “Where are the eggs, Mommy?”
Place 1 ½ year old at his place at the table, run to the refrigerator, and retrieve the eggs before he can let himself down again.
Smile as your 1 ½ year old laughs at your new “game”.
Add 2 eggs to the butter and sugar already in your bowl.
Be thankful that banana bread cannot be over mixed, as your 3 ½ year old has been mixing the entire time you were getting the eggs.
Lecture your kids on the dangers of raw eggs as you wash your egg-y hands.
Mix the eggs yourself after realizing that they were your last 2 eggs and you don’t want anything to happen to them.
Add eggs to your shopping list that you keep on the refrigerator.
Consult your recipe and laugh to yourself as you read ½ cup of buttermilk thanking your lucky stars that the whole milk you have for your 1 ½ year old is still good.
Wonder what the difference is between whole milk and buttermilk anyway.
Shake your head and measure out ½ cup of whole milk.
Mix this yourself as well since the batter is getting pretty sloppy at this point.
Take vanilla out of the pantry and measure out 1 teaspoon of vanilla.
Add this to your recipe and allow your 3 ½ year old to mix the batter after receiving a promise from her to mix very slowly.
Smile proudly as your 3 ½ year old mixes the batter without spilling any.
Realize that you have not heard from your 2 month old in a while, go to his bassinet and place your hand on his chest to make sure he is OK.
Repeat steps 2-4.
Consult your recipe and add 2 ¼ cups of flour, using the opportunity to introduce fractions to your 3 ½ year old.
Check off “math lesson” for the day on your master list.
Add the last 2 ingredients of 1 teaspoon baking soda and 1 teaspoon salt.
Take turns mixing the batter with your 3 ½ year old.
Let your kids take a bite of the batter after their begging increases in volume telling yourself that you are protecting the sanctity of your 2 month old’s nap.
Scratch your head after your 3 ½ year old asks if the eggs in the batter have been cooked now and if they are OK to eat?
Answer “yes” and move on.
Curse yourself for forgetting to pre-heat the oven.
See that it is time for Dora the Explorer to start again since that show is on 100 times each day.
Turn Dora on. What do those studies know anyway?
Sigh when the buzzer on the oven goes off signaling that the bread can go safely into the oven.
Bake bread for 75 minutes during which time your husband comes home from work for lunch and asks why the only thing you got done that morning was to make some banana bread.
Shake your head and roll your eyes at your husband.
Check “make banana bread with kids’ help” off of your master list.

Do not negotiate with Terrorists

So much for my peaceful afternoon. The mystery is solved, the Princess and the Prince were being quiet because they were being naughty. I am partly to blame because I did not get their Princess and Buzz Lightyear suitcases put up after our last trip home to Iowa. They commandeered said suitcases and filled them up with toys. Now, we have a known rule in this house that the suitcases are not toys. I know this, the kids know this, and that should be the end of the story. Not today. They came down the stairs with sheepish grins lugging their luggage behind them. I stopped them at the bottom of the stairs, reminded them of the "suitcases are not toys" rule and asked them to go upstairs. Again, in a perfect world, this should have been the end of the story, but my Princess turned into Miss Attitude and promptly started listing the reasons why she was not going to listen to me. "I know more than you because Ms. Teacher taught me lots of stuff. I am smarter than you Mommy and know everything and you know nothing." and on and on and on. Finally, I stepped over the gate at the bottom of the stairs and took her suitcase upstairs. It was filled with toys, so I unzipped it and dumped then on the bed. Then she HIT me. She hit me. She hit me. ... I didn't raise my children to hit me or talk to me the way that she talked to me. She is currently on the stairs telling me that she will not take her time out and I am trying the SuperNanny technique of just taking her back to her room without talking to her. She is throwing a major fit. Miss Attitude indeed.

The Knight

My 2 year old, the Knight, is a funny kid. His newest thing is to do something naughty and then run away and slap his hands over his eyes. His logic is if he cannot see me, I cannot see him. What a riot. I kind of play into this and only pick him up after he uncovers his eyes. The Knight has also developed preferences in the last month or so. He loves Dora and especially "Chicken Wittle". That just cracks me up! The Princess decided a long time ago that she loved Ariel, and she was in fact Ariel this year for Halloween. The Prince decidedly loves Cars. Mator used to be his favorite, but now Lightning McQueen is the bomb. It is funny how three kids born of the same parents can be so very unique.