We were all smiles at the park last weekend. My son could swing for hours.
5.24.2014
my judgmental mind
At church a few weeks ago, there was a woman a few rows ahead of us who was holding her son. The only thing is, her son looked like he might be old enough to read.
Having just finished How Much is Enough (Clarke, Dawson, Bredehoft), I was on high alert for overindulgence. To me, this looked like a clear case. I felt sympathy for this woman, whose back must have been breaking from the weight of this child. The child himself was staring back at me, almost smirking. I felt like he wanted to say to me, "Ha, ha, look what I got my mom to do, even though I'm waaaay too old."
Why was this mom doing this to herself? Why had she allowed herself to be manipulated by her child? I had a lot of ideas about how she could have prevented this overindulgence from happening, for the benefit of both of them.
Just as I was getting caught up in a wave of judgment, I realized something that stopped me in my tracks: this woman was just doing the best she could to be a good mom. Why was I judging her? She was swaying back and forth and singing to the music. She looked very happy. Her son seemed happy and was behaving perfectly in the church service, a place I cannot imagine bringing my own son yet. She and her son seemed to have a strong, loving bond. Why did I think I knew better than she did how to raise her son?
At this point, I had already stopped judging people's decisions on sleeping arrangements. My son has not been the best sleeper, and I know that there are times when life as a parent is just pure survival. I've done things I never thought I would do, just to get a few hours of sleep. I've let him sleep in my bed or on the floor in my room. I've crawled in bed with him. It's hard when your child doesn't sleep well, so if a family has found something that works for them, I'm certainly not going to judge them.
This experience at church made me want to expand my non-judgmental-ness to issues other than sleeping. If a parent is acting out of love toward their child, treating them kindly, and having their best interests in mind, I don't want to judge them.
I find that the hardest judgments to stop are not related to others, but to myself. I judge myself for letting my son sleep in my bed occasionally. I judge myself for letting him watch tv when I'm trying to make dinner on a weeknight. I agonize over the last time I lost my temper with my son and replay it over and over in my head, asking how it happened and seeing the look on his face.
Parenting is hard. So hard sometimes. And as much as we want to, we can't be perfect parents all the time. We get tired, and stressed, and things just don't go the way we want them to. Sometimes it all falls apart. I think it's ok. This is life. Just like that woman at church, I'm just doing the best I can to be a good mom. I'm doing my best, and I need to let myself see that that's a beautiful thing.
Having just finished How Much is Enough (Clarke, Dawson, Bredehoft), I was on high alert for overindulgence. To me, this looked like a clear case. I felt sympathy for this woman, whose back must have been breaking from the weight of this child. The child himself was staring back at me, almost smirking. I felt like he wanted to say to me, "Ha, ha, look what I got my mom to do, even though I'm waaaay too old."
Why was this mom doing this to herself? Why had she allowed herself to be manipulated by her child? I had a lot of ideas about how she could have prevented this overindulgence from happening, for the benefit of both of them.
Just as I was getting caught up in a wave of judgment, I realized something that stopped me in my tracks: this woman was just doing the best she could to be a good mom. Why was I judging her? She was swaying back and forth and singing to the music. She looked very happy. Her son seemed happy and was behaving perfectly in the church service, a place I cannot imagine bringing my own son yet. She and her son seemed to have a strong, loving bond. Why did I think I knew better than she did how to raise her son?
At this point, I had already stopped judging people's decisions on sleeping arrangements. My son has not been the best sleeper, and I know that there are times when life as a parent is just pure survival. I've done things I never thought I would do, just to get a few hours of sleep. I've let him sleep in my bed or on the floor in my room. I've crawled in bed with him. It's hard when your child doesn't sleep well, so if a family has found something that works for them, I'm certainly not going to judge them.
This experience at church made me want to expand my non-judgmental-ness to issues other than sleeping. If a parent is acting out of love toward their child, treating them kindly, and having their best interests in mind, I don't want to judge them.
I find that the hardest judgments to stop are not related to others, but to myself. I judge myself for letting my son sleep in my bed occasionally. I judge myself for letting him watch tv when I'm trying to make dinner on a weeknight. I agonize over the last time I lost my temper with my son and replay it over and over in my head, asking how it happened and seeing the look on his face.
Parenting is hard. So hard sometimes. And as much as we want to, we can't be perfect parents all the time. We get tired, and stressed, and things just don't go the way we want them to. Sometimes it all falls apart. I think it's ok. This is life. Just like that woman at church, I'm just doing the best I can to be a good mom. I'm doing my best, and I need to let myself see that that's a beautiful thing.
5.22.2014
the highs and lows of parenting a toddler
My son is almost three. I can't believe it! This is such a fun age. We have the most hilarious, insightful, thoughtful conversations. It's also such a frustrating age. Why can't he just do what I ask him to??
I find that our days are full of highs and lows. Here are a few.
High: He can really help around the house now. He loves to vacuum. He loves to clean windows. Yesterday, he became obsessed with picking up his toys. Hurrah!
Low: He wants to help with everything. Mama's sewing? Let me help by pulling everything out of the sewing box. You need these pinking shears? How about this tomato-shaped pin cushion? What can I cut with these ultra-sharp sewing scissors?
High: He's getting really good at holding conversations and making logical arguments. Here's an example:
C: I don't like this book anymore. I want to give it to somebody else.
Me: Ok.
C: Probably they will just give it back to us.
Me: Why?
C: Because this book isn't very fun.
Me: Probably someone will like it.
C: [Thinks] ... Maybe old people.
Me: [Laughs] Maybe.
C: Our neighbors are old. We could give it to them.
Low: For no apparent reason, while we are watching "Thomas the Train," he turns to me with a terrifying grimace on his face and pinches / pushes / tries to otherwise maim me. "Mama, does that hurt you?" he asks, innocently. Uh, yes. Yes, it does.
High: Periodically throughout the day, he turns to me and says, "Mama, I love you."
Low: Mr. Giraffe displaces me on the pillow next to my son at bedtime. "Give Mr. Giraffe more room, Mama," he says, as he pushes me practically off the bed. At least I know where I rank.
High: When he realizes I'm really leaving for the night, he wraps his arms around my neck and gives me the tightest hug, like he can hardly bear not to see me for the next 8 hours.
I find that our days are full of highs and lows. Here are a few.
High: He can really help around the house now. He loves to vacuum. He loves to clean windows. Yesterday, he became obsessed with picking up his toys. Hurrah!
Low: He wants to help with everything. Mama's sewing? Let me help by pulling everything out of the sewing box. You need these pinking shears? How about this tomato-shaped pin cushion? What can I cut with these ultra-sharp sewing scissors?
High: He's getting really good at holding conversations and making logical arguments. Here's an example:
C: I don't like this book anymore. I want to give it to somebody else.
Me: Ok.
C: Probably they will just give it back to us.
Me: Why?
C: Because this book isn't very fun.
Me: Probably someone will like it.
C: [Thinks] ... Maybe old people.
Me: [Laughs] Maybe.
C: Our neighbors are old. We could give it to them.
Low: For no apparent reason, while we are watching "Thomas the Train," he turns to me with a terrifying grimace on his face and pinches / pushes / tries to otherwise maim me. "Mama, does that hurt you?" he asks, innocently. Uh, yes. Yes, it does.
High: Periodically throughout the day, he turns to me and says, "Mama, I love you."
Low: Mr. Giraffe displaces me on the pillow next to my son at bedtime. "Give Mr. Giraffe more room, Mama," he says, as he pushes me practically off the bed. At least I know where I rank.
High: When he realizes I'm really leaving for the night, he wraps his arms around my neck and gives me the tightest hug, like he can hardly bear not to see me for the next 8 hours.
5.20.2014
blender ice cream
I'm not eating dairy right now. Or sugar. Or chocolate. Or a lot of other things... It's certainly not a place I ever expected to be, but here I am. On good days, I call it "a very interesting food adventure." (Can't post what I call it on other days. Or what my husband calls it.)
I'm trying to identify and resolve some food sensitivities that have been bothering me for a while now. It's actually not as bad as I make it sound. I'm discovering lots of amazing foods. For example, I've discovered that I'm kind of obsessed with kale. And turnips? Turns out I (sometimes) like them!
But dessert... I miss dessert sometimes.
Enter my latest discovery: blender ice cream. With just a few ingredients and 5 minutes, I can make homemade ice cream. It's simple, fast, doesn't need any added sugar, and is pretty darn delicious.
Here's my technique. Note that it's not really a recipe, more of a "throw everything in the blender and hope for the best" kind of thing. I don't think you can really go wrong here, so don't be afraid.
Blender Ice Cream
Ingredients:
Frozen fruit (I like strawberries)
Coconut milk (the kind in the can)
A little sweetener (1-2 tsp) if you like, although if you use fruit that's nice and ripe, you might not need any sweetener at all.
Milk (cow's or alternative) and ice for adjusting the consistency.
Put the fruit and coconut milk in the blender. I use about 2 parts frozen fruit to 1 part coconut milk. Add sweetener if you're using it. Turn on the blender and see if it will run. If yes, then process until it's nice and blended. If not, add milk until the blender starts to work. If it gets too liquid-y, add ice.
I used nectarines for this example. Note that it's key to use the ripest, sweetest fruit you have.
This batch ended up a little on the soft side, but was still delicious.
This ice cream is best eaten right after you make it, so finish it off if you can (not usually a problem in our house). If you want to stick it in the freezer, when you're ready to eat it, just microwave it in 30 second increments until it's the right consistency. I have a single-serving attachment for my blender, which makes the perfect amount for me and Little Chef without leftovers.
I'm trying to identify and resolve some food sensitivities that have been bothering me for a while now. It's actually not as bad as I make it sound. I'm discovering lots of amazing foods. For example, I've discovered that I'm kind of obsessed with kale. And turnips? Turns out I (sometimes) like them!
But dessert... I miss dessert sometimes.
Enter my latest discovery: blender ice cream. With just a few ingredients and 5 minutes, I can make homemade ice cream. It's simple, fast, doesn't need any added sugar, and is pretty darn delicious.
Here's my technique. Note that it's not really a recipe, more of a "throw everything in the blender and hope for the best" kind of thing. I don't think you can really go wrong here, so don't be afraid.
Blender Ice Cream
Ingredients:
Frozen fruit (I like strawberries)
Coconut milk (the kind in the can)
A little sweetener (1-2 tsp) if you like, although if you use fruit that's nice and ripe, you might not need any sweetener at all.
Milk (cow's or alternative) and ice for adjusting the consistency.
Put the fruit and coconut milk in the blender. I use about 2 parts frozen fruit to 1 part coconut milk. Add sweetener if you're using it. Turn on the blender and see if it will run. If yes, then process until it's nice and blended. If not, add milk until the blender starts to work. If it gets too liquid-y, add ice.
I used nectarines for this example. Note that it's key to use the ripest, sweetest fruit you have.
This batch ended up a little on the soft side, but was still delicious.
This ice cream is best eaten right after you make it, so finish it off if you can (not usually a problem in our house). If you want to stick it in the freezer, when you're ready to eat it, just microwave it in 30 second increments until it's the right consistency. I have a single-serving attachment for my blender, which makes the perfect amount for me and Little Chef without leftovers.
5.15.2014
seeing the world from two feet higher
My son uses a stepstool when we cook together. He recently discovered he can push it around the house, effectively doubling the size of his world.
He can reach the peanut butter jar in the pantry, which makes it easy for snacking right out of the jar using his fingers- no utensils needed.
Light switches are now within easy reach. (The thermostat too...)

He can reach the peanut butter jar in the pantry, which makes it easy for snacking right out of the jar using his fingers- no utensils needed.
Light switches are now within easy reach. (The thermostat too...)
Wall art can now be studied.
"Mom," he says, "I want this to be my new house."
Why yes, the hall closet did need to be organized, thanks.
Luckily, when he saw the cleaning supplies in the closet, I was able to distract him from his organizing project and on to another project: window washing.
5.12.2014
a mother's day dance party
My Mother's Day celebration started on Saturday evening with a wild dance party. By "wild," I mean that my son and I turned on the Saturday Night Fever channel on the IPod and got crazy on the dance floor (a.k.a. our living room). He's really got some moves. My husband and I haven't decided which one of us he got his dance skills from.
The dance party continued on Sunday... at 5:45 am... If you've never seen the sunrise while dancing to disco in your living room with your toddler, well, it's a unique and memorable occasion. One I probably didn't fully appreciate at the time, but that I will always remember.
I sure love this guy and feel so lucky to be his mom. Even if he isn't happy to be in photos with me.
Here is a photo from the night he was born. It's grainy and partially obscured by our midwife's finger and my hair is all sweaty, but I love that the joy we felt in meeting our son for the first time was captured in this photo. I still feel that joy when I see him.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there.
The dance party continued on Sunday... at 5:45 am... If you've never seen the sunrise while dancing to disco in your living room with your toddler, well, it's a unique and memorable occasion. One I probably didn't fully appreciate at the time, but that I will always remember.
I sure love this guy and feel so lucky to be his mom. Even if he isn't happy to be in photos with me.
Here is a photo from the night he was born. It's grainy and partially obscured by our midwife's finger and my hair is all sweaty, but I love that the joy we felt in meeting our son for the first time was captured in this photo. I still feel that joy when I see him.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there.
5.09.2014
youth poetry slam
I heard about this group of kids on the radio the other day while I was driving home from work. Kids who are writing and performing slam poetry. Kids who are brave enough to read something they wrote in front of an audience. Kids who are taking tough life experiences and turning them into art with a maturity that I'm not sure I will ever have.
You probably already know this about me, but I love the written word. I love books, and I love blogs, and I love that kids are out there, getting excited about writing poetry. (And doing a pretty amazing job at it, too.)
Check it out: Tucson Youth Poetry Slam. Here are a couple to get you started: Zack T. and Faith D.
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