Bathroom Narrative

The weight of potty-training days is upon us. So, as you can imagine, I've seen the inside of every public restroom in the tri-state area.

E and I are always out and about, and I've started to suspect that visiting every restroom she can find is less about "having to go" and more about exploring new restrooms. Meanwhile, I say a silent prayer, begging sweet, little baby Jesus to keep us from contracting every known virus in the western hemisphere.

Last week, we took a trip to Shaw's to do a big, 2-week grocery shopping. I had Elle use the bathroom before we left the house, but that didn't stop her from saying, "I really, really have to go potty," as soon as she saw the "Restroom" sign glowing at the back of the dairy aisle.

As you know, my 2-year-old has the vocabulary of a relatively-smart high-school student, and can say all kinds of words and phrases quickly and clearly like "perpendicular" and "easy-peasy lemon squeezy!" In fact, yesterday, while we were driving home, she said, "Mommy, will the blue bus be picking up passengers this afternoon?" and "I think I'd like to buy a blue house. Yes, a blue house with a black bird in the yard." She turns every task into a long, toddler narrative. It's kind of... adorable.

This trip to the bathroom was no different than a walk outside, and she stormed into the Shaw's restroom, commenting on everything from the color of the tile walls to the available number of hand dryers. The Shaw's bathroom doesn't get a lot of customers, so it was quiet except for a loud toddler voice booming off the ceramic tile walls and floors.

"Mommy, let's use this stall."
"Okay," I said, as I closed the door and set her on the potty.
"Mommy! Do you think someone will steal our car-cart?" (the fire-engine one for kids to ride in)
"Oh no, I don't think so. It's full of our groceries, and I'm sure that, if someone sees it waiting there, they'll know we just stopped to use the restroom."
"Mama, can you tell me that story again?"

I repeat the story of the abandoned car-cart. Outside our stall, the restroom door swings open, and I hear heels click across the tile. A stall door slams, and I hear someone sit down.

I stifle a laugh, as I watch E's reaction and prepare for a lengthy narrative in what could only be described as a "stage whisper," as my dear friend Melissa would call it. E is completely unaware that the other sitter can hear her. As a confused look spreads across her face, it begins...

"MAMA!! Someone is IN HERE!"
"Yes, I know. Someone came in to use the restroom."
"MAMA!! What is THAT MAN doing?"
"Well, it's not a man. It's a woman." (I hope.)
"MAMA! Why is it a woman?"
"This is the ladies' restroom, so it's probably a woman."
"I THINK IT'S A MAN."
"Okay," I try to act disinterested in hopes that she'll drop the conversation. It doesn't work.

"MAMA!! That MAN is GOING PEE-PEE!!"
"Yep. He is..."

I hoped we would avoid the "mystery man" at the sink, but E hopped off the potty, pulled up her pants (never having gone pee-pee herself), and blasted out the stall door to get a better look. Thankfully, it was a sweet, older woman, in artsy clothes, spunky hair, and orange, plastic-rimmed glasses.

She told Elle, "You're absolutely right! I did go pee-pee!"
"Yeah!" Elle replied, giving her the thumbs-up.

I've never spent so much time at Shaw's. I think 3 other families came in and completed their weekly shopping while we were in there. Before check-out, E said she had to go potty again.

How do I know what's real!? I'm living in a Twilight-Zone-like altered-reality in which every day is an endless maze of restrooms, like a 2D video game from the 80s, like Paper Boy, but the object is to just navigate restrooms. All day.

I told her she'd have to wait until we got home and rushed out of the store, broke two grocery bags that the cashier had over-filled, and lost a pound of butter in the parking lot. Next time, I'm sending Mark.

Kids Art Source VT

So many of you, my lovely readers, have written to me, messaged me on Facebook, and even flagged me down in public to talk about ART! Project ideas, classes, zentangling, graphic design, age-appropriate art activities. I love it. It's my favorite thing about being a parent -- getting Ellie to think creatively and create art of any kind!

So, I've been working on a new long-term project called "Kids Art Source VT." In my mind, it would be a site/source for all things creative for "kids" ages toddler to teen/adult. Mainly, it will house project ideas, but I'm also building a database of local shops to find supplies, inspiration, and classes/events right in our backyard.

I've patiently been waiting to go live with the site for about 6 weeks, and I just can't wait any more -- mainly because I'm neglecting YMIS a bit in order to get this up and running and posting my most recent art projects there, instead of here -- all in an effort to keep YMIS more mommy-focused for now. My sketches and doodles will still get posted here, but my goal is for KASVT to grow and eventually become a community resource that offers free art classes for kids and parents.

Growing up, we had a fantastic, free, arts and crafts program in the park, and I'd love to set up something similar... in due time! :-)

For now, I just have the online resource, and I'm sharing it with you all first and would welcome any thoughts, suggestions, any feedback at all -- positive or negative! I'll be migrating more project ideas to that site in the weeks to come!

Thanks so much for your support on this journey, and follow my progress at: KidsArtSourceVT!

Nature Painting

I've been wanting to do some nature paintings with Ellie for awhile, but I had to work out the logistics. It was much easier to bring her art table outside and just work on the back porch, close to a hose for easy cleanup.

The best part of the entire experience was getting pictures of her walking around with her little red basket, filling it with leaves, wildflowers, and pine-cones.

We're both terrified of bugs, but I try to keep a straight face for her benefit. So, there was a lot of picking flowers, inspecting them, her running away screaming, and me cringing, shivering, dropping flowers, and secretly dry-heaving in the bushes. Isn't nature great!?

Okay, it wasn't quite that dramatic... And the pictures and prints we made were 100% worth it. We used plain old Crayola washable kids' paint. I liked using the leaves and pine cones as brushes or stamps, but she actually liked sticking leaves into the paint like glue.

It was so cute, and I loved that she didn't just watch what I did and mimic it. She worked independently and came up with her own way. Mama be super proud!

Back to Full Time

When Ellie was 3-months-old, I went back to work. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. For the 3 months prior, Mark and I talked a lot about how we could work out a better schedule for us, instead of sending my daughter to full-time day care. I just couldn't do it. We finally compromised on a part-time schedule.

I was thrilled that my daughter was interacting with new people, learning social survival skills, and making new friends her age. She's still an only child, after all. It was nicely balanced with our time together at home in the afternoon.

Now she's two-and-a-half, money is tight, especially with the cost of my Crohn's medication, and our deferred school loans are looming. It's time to make some changes.

Ellie is in a fantastic classroom at day care, now the preschool room, with teachers I love, and friends she's grown up with. But I still can't justify being away from her 9am-5pm every day, rushing her home for dinner, bath, teeth-brushing, and bed, with no time for afternoon adventures, malt-shop trips, and art projects.

The most I'm willing to compromise is 2 extra hours at day care. So, yesterday I spoke to my supervisor about coming back to work with one stipulation that I'm standing firm on -- I want my hours to be 7am-3pm. She was all for it (just need to work out some scheduling details), and the ball is now rolling, as I rush to catch up to it, adjusting to the idea of not being home when my daughter wakes up in the morning, making lunches the night before, and picking her up at afternoon snack time. I'll start September 2nd.

Part of me is excited -- more me time, more time to focus on my career, more money -- we're planning a Florida vacation in November with Mark's friends (aka practically-free-room-and-board vacation!) and would love to spend a day at Disney with Ellie. We might actually be able to afford to do that and go on more family vacations as she gets older.

It'd also mean free health insurance for me and little cost to add Ellie on mine, versus paying out of pocket. It'd mean remaining loyal to the company that has always let me put my family first, and job security at a place I enjoy working with people who I consider friends, family even.

On Monday, I told Ellie about our plan. I asked her what she thought about spending an extra two hours at day care, staying for nap time and afternoon snack. I also explained to her the benefits. I know she's only two, but I told her that her happiness was more important to me than money, but that it would mean that we could do more things as a family and would still have time together in the afternoons.

"Would that be okay with you?" I asked, as I drove us home.
"Um, no," she said, playfully.
"Really? Okay, well let's continue to talk about it and think it through then."
"Yes, mom. It's fine," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's fine," she said, then went on to talk about butterflies in the field.

I told her that we could try it out, that if it wasn't working, we would come up with a new plan to work around my full-time schedule. She was totally unfazed... for now.

I've felt positive about it every day until I got to see her wake up this morning, got to see her open her eyes and look up at me all confused, then saw that beautiful, playful, silly smile spread across her face when she saw me looking down at her. There's so much I'm already missing, so much more I'll be missing, but she continues to reassure me that she's fine, that she'll be okay. So, I'm going to bravely try.

Why I Love A.C. Moore

I just did some random, free-association doodling over the last few days
when I was bored... and of course I had to dedicate it to the one store
where a mom on a budget can get all her art supplies!

Big Girl Bed

For this lovely Whatever Wednesday, I should probably go back to talking about my amazing kid. Someday, I hope she'll read these stories and enjoy this little diary of sorts, where I try my best to document her little life that's very quickly becoming bigger, as she grows and takes on an ever larger presence in our household.

On Sunday, we changed her room around and moved the twin-size bed to the spot where her crib was. Her favorite thing about this new arrangement was that she got to jump on her new big-girl bed. I was a little worried about how bedtime would go, but I only had to tell her twice that she had to stay in her bed (unless there was an emergency), and each night after has been so drama-free that there isn't much to write about.

She still pulls out the same bedtime stalling techniques, like asking for a snack, a trip to the potty, snuggle time with Mama, and just one more story, but after that, she curls up in her bed and goes to sleep.

The door to her room has to be open so she can hear Mark and I chatting in the living room, and it helps if we have Master Chef playing on the TV.

Yesterday, I made her some official mommy bracelets, so she could wear them to day care and have the security of having "mommy hugs" on her arms. She had one on each wrist but took off one of them while eating dinner.

As she was falling asleep last night, she called me in her room. I've been good about responding to all seemingly serious mommy calls, to give her added security in her big-girl bed. So, I went in, and her eyelids were half closed, fighting sleep.

"What is it?" I asked.
"I need my other bracelet." She held up her arms. I went into the kitchen to get it.

When I came back to her room, her eyes were closed, so I slipped the bracelet on her wrist. She opened her eyes, looked up at me and said, "Thank you," with a relieved sigh. Then she fell right to sleep. Oh, my heart. My sweet baby...

Mornings have been hectic, and she makes every attempt to control the schedule, delay our getting out the door, all while screaming, "I'm going wild!!" and "Catch me if you can!!"

But, for now, I can look forward to having my baby girl back at bedtime, quiet story time, sweet snuggles, and her still needing mommy hugs.

Post 500!

Did you know that TODAY I'm writing my 500th post!! It completely boggles the mind. Or, at least my mind.

And I'm excited to let ya'll know that we finally have a winner of our vase giveaway! It only took me almost 3 weeks to get around to organizing this! Our winner is Ella C.! I even took the time to notify her this morning! Look at me just checking items off my to-do list!

On the facing page of my to-do list is the camping-trip checklist. It's been staring me down all week, laughing at me, as I make some small attempt to prepare for camping with a two-year-old in upstate New York, 5 hours away.

But I'm absolutely, 100%, determined to do this. I even have a real plan for packing the car with our tent, bedding, and other supplies. I bet God thinks this is hilarious.

We camped almost every year with my family when we were growing up -- in campers, cabins, tents, you name it, and I even accompanied my cousins and childhood friends on camping trips with their families. Best memories of my life! It's kind of a tradition, even though I totally bailed out of doing it when I hit my college years. Now I have a little kiddo of my own, though, and we need to start making some camping memories with her cousins. So, my parents, sister, her fiance, her three girls, me, Mark, and E, are all heading out tomorrow, camping gear in tow, to spend a weekend tenting on the banks of the St. Lawrence.

So, don't be surprised if you don't hear from me much between today and tomorrow. I'll update you from the campsite via at least 3 forms of social media. Prior to that, I'll be too busy trying to fit a soft, cushiony, cozy, memory-foam mattress in my trunk. And a cuddly comforter with pillows. And 3 different cords for my Kindle, phone, and iPad.

Stay tuned... Friday night, 6 o'clock news report: In what appears to be a freak-accident turned rescue-mission, Friday evening, a camper was found clinging to a rock off the shore of a nearby campsite, tangled in a mass of smart-phone and tablet charger wires. The woman, 31-year-old Gretchin Strange, of Vermont, was stranded for approximately 20 minutes before a local fisherman came to her rescue in his dinghy. From the shore, reporters could hear her wailing, "My iPhone... my iPhone... I think it fell in the water." Her husband, 37-year-old Mark Strange, allegedly said that he thought she most likely just left it in the women's restroom. More at 11. Here's Joel with your weekend weather... Joel: Heh, heh, thanks, Trish, sounds like that woman was looking for her
'dumb' phone, am I right?

Watercolors and Creatures

Last night, we had company, but before bed I had to squeeze in time to do another doodle. The obsession continues. This is very curious, as usually I get bored with new hobbies so quickly. I absolutely cannot stop doodling/painting/drawing.

CANNOT. STOP.

And it's horrible wonderful. It takes time, but it's relaxing. I've worked it right into my daily goals -- ride my bike, draw, and (try to sometimes, if I can) eat better. I'm doing pretty well with that too!

Why am I so happy/productive/mostly-healthy?? Is this hormonal? Probably. Next week, Mark will probably be scraping my tear-streaked, mascara-stained face off the floor while Ellie jumps on my lifeless body screaming her usual, "Everybody get on the cow!"

But why stress about that now? It's rainy and stormy outside, and I love it. All the more reason to hide inside with a good movie and sketchbook!

Elle saw my Smashbook this morning, which I've been using as a sketchbook. I love it. It has thick pages, pre-designed so that I can work in doodles and tangles, or paste in my strange creature illustrations.

She said, "Oh, Mommy! I want to do this!! Let me get my paints. I have stickers. Let's draw!" And, of course, it was too late in the morning to start that, as I had to usher her out the door to preschool. So sad, too, because she's not always that interested, and I've just been waiting so patiently, trying not to push, but wanting so badly for her to want to draw, paint, and doodle with me!

The last time we painted together, she was sooo content to just sit quietly by my side and paint with her watercolors in her Care Bear coloring book. I got to paint, too! There was a peace and calm energy about the entire experience, and to have that with my toddler was... beautiful. Amazing. Lovely.

So, I was hopeful, as she waved goodbye this morning, and as she said to me, "Oh. I need one more hug and kiss. Have a good day, sir!" that the afternoon would bring swishes of bright paint, swashes of pastels, and the cool, dry creak of a Sharpie marker (happy sigh).

Fabulous paradox tutorials (here)!

Anyway, last night I knocked out a quick doodle on some paper I had prepped with watercolor the night before. I learned that if the paint is too thick, the thinner Sharpie markers don't like it. They give up completely on applying ink to those areas, and I have to carefully touch it up with a thick Sharpie. It's like having man-hands while doing really delicate tangle work. So, I'm going to experiment some more over the next few nights.

I'm pretty happy with the final product, though. I like the fantasy theme. I can be less committed to the drawing as I work on it, and I loved spotting that deer-like creature and volcano in the drips of the watercolor and outlining him.

Here's how I did it! For Step 5, I pasted it in my watercolor-dripped sketchbook page and drew some "paradox" tangles above.

Team Little Man

Hello, friends!

Today, I want to share this amazingly cool shirt with you! I love the design and can't wait to buy mine tomorrow on payday! There are only 9 days left to get one!

Buy Yours Here!

Also, proceeds benefit my co-worker's grandson who is bravely battling Leukemia.

Go Team Little Man!

I know there are other individuals and families out there battling some life-changing diseases and difficulties. If you'd like me to feature a family or cause in a post or donate cards/prints for an auction, please message me via any of my social media sites or email me at YourMomIsStrange@gmail.com.

Doodle A Day

I saw a Doodle-a-Day calendar in a book I found, and then I found some others online. I had to create my own!

This one has 30 boxes, a place to write in the month, your name, and I left a small space in the middle of the sheet in case you want to cut it out and put it in your bullet journal!

You can download the printable PDF (here).

Tomorrow my parents are coming, so stay tuned via Instagram for some fun out and about around Vermont with Grammie and Papa

While I take a mini vacation, feel free to check out some of my newest most-viewed posts:

A Napkin, It's What's For Dinner
Things My Husband Doesn't Care About
Defining Beautiful

Little Shopper

How do I describe the cuteness that is shopping with my daughter? She was so particular about what she put in her kid-cart, and she was determined to buy things like pepperoni and Italian bread. She must have been channeling my father's shopping list.

Due to the fact that payday isn't until next week, and I had already done our weekly shopping on Sunday, I had to make her circle the store again to put back most of her groceries.

When I calmly explained this to her, she let out a blood-curdling scream, ran off pushing her cart, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Never... never! NEVER!!!"

Gotta love that toddler will power! I caught up with her and told her that she could keep pushing the cart around but that we needed to organize our purchases and put some things back. I grabbed some tea, and I let her buy her cherished two-dollar box of mini cupcakes. She could have one after dinner.

"You can put your tea in my cart," she offered.
"Thanks, bubby."

She pushed her cart to check-out, paid for her items, and put the cart back all on her own.

Of course, on the way out, she noticed that someone had returned "The Car." The Car is that shopping cart that has a car on the front, and she is obsessed with riding in it. It's the only reason she'll ever willingly go to the supermarket. She begged me to bring her back in the store for "one more loop" in the The Car. One loop turned into four, of course, but we made it home in time to start dinner and settle in for the evening.

Life is moving pretty slowly nowadays, but I think I'm finally adjusting to this new "hurry up and wait" toddler stage.

Also, if you haven't read my latest post on the Burlington VT Moms site, check it out (here)!

A Napkin. It's What's For Dinner.

A pic from that day! Love this crew!

Has it really been a week and a half since I’ve written? Please don’t give up on me, dear readers! I have no good excuse for my absence other than the usual busyness of life.

If you’re a regular follower of our Instagram feed, you’ll know that we’ve been on the go, enjoying this warm weather, preparing to do more doodling/painting/music-playing, and organizing the apartment. All good things.

But the one thing weighing on my mind this morning is something that happened a few weekends ago, and I could really use some mommy-input here. Did I do the right thing?

We went out to eat with my in-laws at a local pizza place, with 3 kids in tow, including E. It was your typical kid-chaos, which I’ve contentedly settled into – sweet, loud voices hollering, “When’s the food coming?” “Can I get a drink?” “I need a napkin!” and the stomping of sneakers against tile floor as all 3 found their places and prepared for a busy meal.

My daughter, well-trained by day-care mealtime, fit right in. She had the same wiggle in her step as the rest, the same excitement in her eyes, and her head bobbed around to take in every fun detail of being out and about with her clan of cousins, parents, aunt, and uncle.

I settled into my seat, sitting across from my bouncing, giggly toddler, and I smiled as I tried to calm her by focusing all her attention on one simple task – watching me cut a delicious slice of cheesy pizza. She climbed on her knees for a better view then hopped back down to a sitting position to get more comfortable – constantly moving.

I happened to glance up, over her head, to a family sitting behind us. The mom gave me that look. You know the one – her eyes got big with… oh, what’s the word? Disapproval? Surprise? Sometimes I know immediately the reason why a fellow mother gives me this look. Usually it’s because my daughter is having a particularly difficult day and just happens to be swinging off some piece of fancy furniture or architecture in a public place, screeching like a pterodactyl.

(And I am proud to say that I’ve learned to just not care. I laugh it off and go on with my day. This is life with a toddler. Some days good, some days bad, and I know in my heart that most moms must know that. And if she’s judging me for laughing off a particularly rough moment, then she’s not the type of person I want to know or be friends with and certainly not the type of person whose opinion matters.)

But this look caught me completely off-guard, because it was very deliberate (for one), and (two) I had no idea what triggered it. Other than the fact that my daughter was a little wiggly in her chair, and we were all being a little loud with typical mealtime excitement… (Me included. “More pizza, please!”), I just couldn’t come up with an explanation. I went on with my meal and wrote off the woman’s look as, I don’t know, indigestion, I guess? Her children sat, eating in silence.

As the meal went on, the woman’s son, who I later learned was nine-months-old, started waving and smiling at my daughter. We waved and smiled back. I noticed that he was chewing on a wet napkin – the brown kind that they have at most restaurants. It was starting to fall apart.

My mom anxiety kicked in, as I watched him slowly eat half the napkin. Both parents were on their cell phones (no judging here, we do the same sometimes). So, I let the kid enjoy his paper-meal. “It’s none of my business,” I told myself, “Ellie has eaten a few bites of napkin in her life, a nibble of paper-towel. She’s chewed on a playing card before.” I took a deep breath.

Then the kid started to choke on what was left of the napkin. Gagging. Gasping for breath. My sister-in-law was watching, too, and she grabbed my arm.

“Okay, now we have to say something, right?” I whispered to her.
“Yes!” she replied nervously.

This wouldn’t be easy. I am not a judgmental mom, and I would never criticize another parent (except later, in the privacy of my own home, when Mark and I were lying in bed before falling asleep saying, “Oh my God, did you see that!?”).

And, of course, if my intuition was right, I could already sense that this was the type of mom who seemed content judging every other family in the restaurant but would not take kindly to a “judgy” eye being turned on her – even though my only concern was for her son’s oxygen intake and digestive tract. I would have to tread lightly.

I got up quickly, as if I was headed to get something at the front of the restaurant, and I casually put my hand on the arm of the gagging infant as I passed by. I said cheerily (and in an “Isn’t life grand!?” tone), to get the father’s attention, “He sure is enjoying that napkin! Haha!” The father looked up from his phone and quickly pulled the napkin out of the baby’s throat.

The mother looked horrified – not that her baby had been choking, I’m not sure she ever realized that – but that another mother had even passively mentioned, literally in passing, that her child was eating a napkin.

She quickly jumped in to defend herself, “He’s fine!” she blurted. Then she tried to laugh off her knee-jerk reaction, “Ha! Well, you can tell that this is our second child! We're very relaxed about it.” The father was equally defensive and began listing the many nutritional qualities of paper napkins.

“Oh, my daughter has eaten her fair-share of napkins, too, and she’s my first!” I blurted, through forced laughter, trying to ease the tension.

It all added up to one awkward situation that I quickly excused myself from. I made my way to the front of the restaurant where I faked needing a fork and rushed back to my table. I elbowed my sister-in-law to indicate relief in being done with that "Holy cow!" moment. The father turned back to his phone, and the child kept chewing his napkin.

I doubt that mother will ever make it over to my blog, to my small corner of the Internet, where this strange mom is now admitting to belittling the signs of a choking infant, in order to save the embarrassment of a mom who was obviously very concerned with how she was perceived by other parents in the restaurant… but on the off-chance that you are reading, I just wanted to tell you that:

We’re all in this together. It’s okay if you let your toddler chew on napkins to allow yourself 5 minutes of freedom to check Facebook or read an important text message. I won’t judge. And it’s okay if you didn’t even know he was eating the napkin or choking on it. He’ll survive. And, if it looks like he might not survive, I’ll step in to help.

The only thing I ask in return is that you not widen your eyes and look at me with disgust when I turn a blind eye to my wiggly, loud 2-year-old, so I can enjoy my same 5 minutes of peace. And maybe a kind word or smile would have helped. A look of knowing that we’re all fighting the same battle.

Yeah, that would have been nice.

What about you, moms? Have you had to step in to help another mom and been caught off guard by the reaction? I’d love to hear your stories!

Doc McElle

So, I know I've been missing for a few days. E and I are fighting Mommy-Daughter colds/viruses. It's been quite an adventure spending two straight days inside with a cranky two-year-old who both wants me and hates me at the same time. My Facebook post from this morning sums up our current sick status:

3:30am sinus explosion, and my voice is gone (I'm certain you needed to know this), but I'm ((happy)) because I can actually breathe again.

E has slept all night (so far), so maybe we're reaching a turning point!!!

Doctor says this is a nasty virus that's going around. We're clear for bronchitis and ear infections and other nasties. So that's good!

And as exhausting as it was taking my precocious toddler to the doctor's office yesterday, nothing makes me happier than watching her storm in there with her toy Doc McStuffins doctor bag and tell the nurses and doctors how to do their jobs.

"Hey, it's my turn!" "You need to check my ears now."

I can't believe this is my child!! On Saturday we were in line at the cafe, and she told an eager woman behind us to "wait her turn." I said all the things I was supposed to say per my parenting rule book (eye roll), but I giggled all the way through my lesson, because she was absolutely right. Wait your turn, Lady!

ALSO, if you've been missing us, tune in to the bvtmomsblog Instagram page (here)! E and I have taken it over for the day so that you can get a glimpse into a "day in the life" of the Strange family!

The pic above is my favorite so far. Happy E, while I draw funny pics of Daddy eating Rice "Krippies" out of a monstrous bowl.

It's Just Poop

Repeat after me... "It's just poop." I'm just going to close my eyes for a few minutes and chant to myself...

Mark is still a little squeamish when it comes to toddler poop, but I think I've finally come to terms with it and the fact that it's just a very natural and real part of life with a baby and growing toddler who is not quiet yet potty-trained.

On Monday, I picked up E from day care, and it was beautiful outside. It was a little overcast, and 46 degrees was feeling like 60 after this long winter! I decided to take her for a walk straight from day care, around the outskirts of town, over the covered bridge. I ran what I could and walked the rest. E was happy for a stroller ride and some walking on her own.

When we got back into town, about a half mile from the car, she said, "I'm hungry! I get a 'nack?"

Hmm, my mommy radar knew it was bowel-movement time, but I figured that we'd still have time to get back to the car and get home. She wouldn't have to sit too long in a poopy diaper. I let her get a little cookie at the local cafe, and we browsed the local bookstore.

Worried that poop-time was fast approaching, I told her that it was time to go, but she wanted to look in one more shop. I hadn't noticed any suspicious smells yet, so I let her continue to browse.

The next shop she picked had a photo booth in it, complete with curtain. E stepped inside, closed the curtain, pushed the buttons on the photo machine, giggled, then got unusually quiet. I stood outside the booth, contemplating the wonders of the universe, patiently waiting for her.

Finally, she threw back the curtain, jumped out, and said, "Hi, Mama!"

The smell hit me right in the face.

"Whoa, there! Let's get you back to the stroller," I said. This began a 10-minute mommy-and-toddler chase that ended with me picking her up crying and bringing her outside to her stroller. I got her settled, but the guilt set in. I couldn't let her ride in a bumpy stroller and poopy diaper all the way back to the car. There was a public restroom close by, but I had no diapers or wipes.

It's moments like these when I become some kind of mommy-survivalist. I don't know if I like the challenge or want to torture myself. I pushed the stroller into the restroom.

As usual, the diaper-changing station (at least they had one) had no liners. I took off my sweatshirt and put it down for her. Then I prepped for surgery.

I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed about 5 handfuls of toilet paper. "Here we go," I thought, as I turned around to see E trying to purposely roll herself off the changing table, just for fun. I reached out and caught her legs just before she got enough momentum to fall off. I wiped my brow and tried to stop my heart from racing.

The bathroom was unusually hot and reeked of cigarettes and musky perfume. I gagged a little bit as I prepared to introduce a new scent to the humidity.

I won't get into all the gory details, but it was a blow-out diaper of epic proportions. I had to go back for more toilet paper, but I eventually got her clean.

Then I noticed a huge poop smudge on my sweatshirt. I got E dressed, with no diaper (saying a silent prayer to the patron saint of toddler-bladder-control), set her on her feet, and got some wet paper towels to scrub my sweatshirt. Then I tucked it away neatly in the stroller basket.

I threw out all the nasties and washed my hands really, really well while cringing a little bit. E was now busy running into each restroom stall, trying to slap each public toilet, playing some little toddler racing game. I scooped her up and got her to wash her hands.

I got her back in the stroller, bundled with hat and blanket for her legs, and pushed her out into the chilly Spring air. And, it was then that I remembered why I had originally put on my sweatshirt in the wee hours of the morning, as I rushed out the door.

1. It was a little chilly out.
2. I was wearing an Old Navy striped shirt, and the middle stripe of the shirt, the one right across my boobs was see-through. And I was wearing a lacy, red bra.

"Oh no," I thought, as I glanced down, then up at a passing tourist who gave me a too-happy smile. I quickly reached for my sweatshirt... "Ugh... to wear the still-stinky, poopy sweatshirt and save some of my dignity, or go free and get a reputation as the skankiest mom in town..."

Eh, I've never cared much about my reputation anyway. I proceeded along, pushing the stroller, letting it all hang out, only feeling slightly uncomfortable as drivers passed me and almost went off the road. Halfway to the car, though, it got cold enough that I had to don the poopy sweatshirt.

We made it to the car, then home with no accidents, changed our clothes, and (surprise!) we both survived another poop-tastrophe.

Little Late Night Song

The refrigerator kicked on while we were trying to record a script for one of Mark's work projects. We decided to take a music break.

Signing off over here... goodnight!

Me and Fitness

For this lovely "Whatever Wednesday," I'm sharing my (very shaky (pun intended)) beginning to a new Fitness Challenge.

Song stuck in my head: "Shake it Up!"

So, last summer, my physical therapist suggested that I start running. I did and loved it! My ultimate goal weight has always been 175, but at 185, I was feeling great, had a lot more energy, and was happy to be easily fitting my 5'10" frame into a size 14! I actually like how my body carries weight and was generally happy with how I looked, even at a size 16.

But 14 felt all-around wonderful. Winter came, and I kept up with my old eating habits and gained 20 pounds. I'm now at 205lbs (no fibbing, no rounding). This was what the scale said the last time I stepped on it at the doctor's office, last week.

Since then, I've been trying to eat better, but in all actuality, I want a plan to live better and healthier as Spring and Summer approach and I have more opportunities to get outside with my daughter. I also want to go into warmer weather with more energy and motivation to pick up where I left off last year!

My biggest struggle lately is eating better, so I'm trying the Beach Body 21-Day Fix Challenge. What I love about this challenge is that it's more about portion control and eating the right foods. It's also only 21 days, 3 weeks. That's short enough to be doable for me and long enough to get me into some healthy habits that will last beyond those 3 weeks.

The pack was about $50 and came with cardio workouts, portion-control containers, and I also invested in the Shakeology ($130). I've heard so much good about this product that I had to at least try it.

I expected everything would come in the mail Friday (that I would eat like a king through the weekend and start on Monday), per the tracking information on the site, but it came early! Yesterday, I got home to find the box on my doorstep.

"Whoa, there! I'm not ready," I thought. I glanced sideways at the box, left it on the doorstep, then went out a few minutes later to bring it in. I opened it to get my first impression -- but E tried to steal my colorful portion-control containers.

I let her play and explore just about anything, but I could already see her throwing the containers and lids all over the house and me spending three mornings trying to put them all back together.

"These are Mommy's," I said firmly. She screamed, but I tucked them back in the box and put the box in my room. Like a baby someone left on my door step, I was protecting it but not quite sure I wanted to keep it yet.

Truthfully, though, I had been preparing myself all week. I even started eating significantly better the last few days except for 2 tablespoons of French onion dip and a half-bag of BBQ chips. I paid for it by being violently ill the last 2 mornings.

"When are you going to realize that you're too old to be eating and acting like this?" I reminded myself. I continued the self-instruction: "Indulging sometimes is okay, but you've been sick off and on since October. You can't keep putting your body through this."

I also have a follow-up appointment with the gastroenterologist next Wednesday, and I'd like to be able to tell him that I'm actually feeling better!

This morning I got up early and sorted through the challenge box. The different-colored containers were a little overwhelming to me. I pored over the 21-Day Fix book and took it all in. I love challenging myself to adhere to a system or schedule, and I love figuring out all the details. This plan was a little confusing to me, so this is how I eventually worked it out. It took me about an hour:

The initial information focuses less on an actual meal plan and more on the individual foods you should be eating. I just wanted someone to tell me exactly what to eat for each meal, but as I read on, I began to see the beauty in this system. It's similar to the Weight Watchers Points Plan, but instead of calculating points all day, you pick the foods you want to eat (off the list provided) and go by what fits in your containers to control portions, NOT the exact number of calories. Less daily calculating! Alright!

I think this might work better for me, because the point is to pick good, healthy foods... NOT try to eat one tiny piece of chocolate cake (which, let's face it, that's what I did on WW!), which ultimately just makes me want MORE chocolate cake. The program does allow you to indulge in some healthier sweets 3 times a week, but these "treats" are made with raw, natural sweeteners like raw honey or maple syrup (which we VTers always have on hand).

So. I calculated my caloric intake per the plan which is about 700 more calories than My Fitness Pal suggested (because the idea is to work out on this plan) -- 1905 calories per day. This is just a guide to know how many containers of each food you should eat per day.

This number equated to these numbers of each container. As you could probably figure out, the green container is for veggies, purple for fruits, reds for proteins, yellow for starches, orange for oils, blue for fat, and then you get a certain number of "teaspoon" foods which could be olive oil or a nut butter.

With my calorie goal, I should eat daily:
5 Greens
3 Purples
5 Reds
4 Yellows
1 Blue
1 Orange
5 Teaspoons
Spices and certain mustards, vinegars, you can use freely to flavor the food.

I immediately put this system into my planner, which was the very first step in admitting that I was doing this. Really doing it. My planner goes with me everywhere and has become my life-line. If this plan is in here, I will do it.

The next thing I did was go through each page of the book that lists the foods for each category. Then I made my own list of the foods I would actually eat. I was glad to find out that we had a lot of these in the house already! I highlighted the foods I would need to pick up at the grocery store.

Then I made a list of the times I should eat throughout the day -- every 2 hours from 8am-6pm, and I spread out the colors throughout those times. I knew I would want to eat a Purple (fruit) in the morning. I knew that I would have a hard time wanting something sweet in the evening, so I added a Purple to my 6pm meal. Per the number above, I made sure I had 3. I did this for each category and started jotting down foods from the list that I would like to eat at each time of day.

If I found that the categories didn't really go together, I moved them. For instance, I had a Yellow in my 10am snack and was having a hard time picking a Yellow food that I would want to eat at that time of day, knowing I would be at work. I moved that Yellow to my 2pm snack.

Of course, I can change this at any time, but I had to do it this way to make sure I covered all my categories. It felt like a lot of advanced-level mathematics, but once completed, I had a visual of what I wanted to eat during the day, and I actually am looking forward to it! This food sounds good!

I'm starting the plan tomorrow, after a run to the grocery store tonight. If I started now, I'd already be behind, but I am going to try to eat the foods from the plan that we have in the house as much as possible today.

In the mean time, I have a 4-week supply of Shakeology. Last night, I stuck my finger in the mix to try a taste. I was skeptical, but it was good. Really good. This morning, I figured that I could at least start with a Shakeology breakfast shake until I officially start my 21-Day Fix tomorrow.

I mixed a scoop with about 12oz. of water (didn't measure), a half banana, and about 1/4 cup of chocolate soy milk. And I reached for it at every stop light on the way to work and devoured it once at my desk. It is slightly chalky but not enough to bother me at all, and I'm a texture person. The flavor is great -- comparable to any chocolate milk on the market.

Also, I did not get sick this morning. For the first time in a week. Was it the Shakeology? Who knows, but it's the only thing I've changed in the last week, so I have to wonder! I'll definitely try it again tomorrow!

Thanks to Ashley for getting me started. I'll post a "before" pic today and keep you updated over the next 3 weeks! I'll probably be in my sports-bra (cringes). You won't want to miss it!

Before You Judge

Today, I had a doctor's appointment -- just a quick follow up for my anxiety meds. I brought E along and thought I'd have the doctor check a freckle on the back of her neck that's had me concerned (all was fine).

My appointment wasn't until 3pm, but I have to pick up E from day care in the same town at about 1pm, so I got her, ran a few errands, and headed over to the office early. E could spend all day playing with the waiting room toys, so I wasn't worried about being an hour early, and I'm finally far enough into the motherhood experience to be less of a germophobe. I let her have run of the place.

I don't know what it is about the last few weeks, but we've hit some kind of toddler terror phase. It's like terrible-twos on steroids (Growth-spurt exhaustion? Teething? It's anyone's guess). Every time I say "no" or even if I say "yes," she cries and screams. Our conversations go something like this:

E: I WANT WATER!!
Me: Big girl voice, please.
E (calmly): I want water, please.
Me: Ok, here's some water.
E: NOOO!! I DON'T WANT WATER.
Me: Okay, what would you like?
E: Water!!
Me: Here's your water.
E: I WANT WATER!!
Me: This is water.
E: Oh, thank you, Mommy.

Chaos, screaming, crying, all just to realize that I gave her exactly what she wanted in the first place. I get it. She's a toddler. She's going through a developmental stage. She's tired. So am I...

In the waiting room, I went into zen-mommy mode. E cried when she was too shy to talk to the little girls sharing her play table. I sat with her until she felt comfortable then went back to my seat. She cried again when I wouldn't let her:

-climb on the play table.
-climb on the backs of the waiting-room chairs.
-wrap the cord from the blinds around her neck.
-put her hands in the garbage.
-lick the window.

I calmly distracted her by playing at the play table with her, reading her a book, making up a game with a vegetable chart. I pretended one of the benches was E's house and the other mine and invited her over for coffee. I pretended I was a mailman and delivered her brochures. I hid around the corner and played peek-a-boo. I created a matching game by laying out magazines on the floor and having her put ones that were the same in piles -- essentially a game to organize the magazines she took out. Clever, right? Ha!

Finally it was our turn to see the doctor. I coaxed her to the nurse's office, to the scale with words of encouragement like, "Let's see how big you are!" and "Are you taller than the giraffe?"

Once in the exam room, the real challenge began. To E, there's no difference between the toys in the waiting room and the tools in the exam room. Finding appropriate things for her to play with is difficult to say the least. The toys I brought with me (books, paper, stickers, pens) paled in comparison to the new "toys" here.

I let her wash her hands in the sink and get a drink of water. She flooded the counter and spilled water on the floor. I had her help me clean it up -- as fun as making the mess at this age. We drew pictures on the exam-table paper. She climbed the lamp, turned it on and off. I let her use cotton balls and a tongue depressor to make "cookies." In between playing, she screamed at the top of her lungs because I wouldn't let her:

-jump off the exam table.
-lick the blood-pressure cuff.
-use the exam-table paper as a parachute.
-play with the light with wet hands.
-climb up on the counters.
-bang on the mirror.

My two-year-old actually said to me, "Mama, put me up on that counter so I can bang on that mirror." My "No," triggered another temper tantrum.

Each time, I calmly distracted her, managed to carry on conversations with the nurse and doctor. I put her in time-out when necessary, and through the toddler storm, I was able to communicate with my daughter and get her to listen to me -- even if she wasn't happy about it. "Go, me!" I thought.

After the appointment, she wanted to ride the elevator to the second floor. When the door to the elevator automatically closed, she assumed I had pushed a button. She always gets to push the button. Once again, super-toddler meltdown. I explained to her what happened and how she could do it herself, and she was all smiles again.

We finally left, even though she screamed at the top of her lungs because she wanted to do the elevator one more time. She cried half the way home until I put the radio on for my own sanity, and she said, "Oh, I like music! That make me better!" Had I only known 2 hours ago! I would have put on a flipping flash-mob musical for you, my dear!

Since the music calmed her down, I was able to talk to her about going to the grocery store and what my expectations would be if we did go. Though this triggered another crying fit (because she really, really, really wanted to go and was afraid I would just take her home for crying), she finally agreed to sit in the cart the entire time and not scream in the store. MUCH to my surprise, she did just that while I shopped for a few items to make dinner.

Until we got to check-out. Temper tantrum number 35 (? I've lost count). She wanted to push the buttons on the debit-card reader. Which I've let her do. Every single time. Since she was 9-months-old. But apparently I wasn't moving fast enough, and she asked the woman in front of me in line if she could "have her turn now!" The woman looked up surprised as E yelled at her again, "It's my turn!"

We apologized. I told her it was not her turn, that she needed to sit down right away or that we would go right home, and she wouldn't get to push buttons. Gah, do I sound like my own mother or what?

That worked, and she quickly sat down and waited for "her turn." While the cashier rang up my items, I let E push buttons. Then I scanned my own card, and off we went to the car. She cried the entire way home about one thing or another -- something felt wrong with her shoe, the seatbelt was too tight, she wanted the stickers that she had thrown out of her carseat.

I yawned and drove along, ignoring the more outlandish requests and calmly responding to the more reasonable ones. I pulled up our driveway, put her socks and shoes on for the fifth time. I helped her out of the car, held her hand in the parking lot. I cradled her head as I closed the car door to be careful not to bump it. I led her to the trunk, got our groceries, let her carry a bag, let her accidentally step on and squish the bread in that bag and walked her toward our building.

With my arms full of grocery bags, a day-care tote, my purse, and a go-cup, I began the trek up 3 flights of stairs. When we got to the first landing, E started crying hysterically.

"What is it?"
"Pick me up, Mommy!"
"Look at all my bags. I can't right now."

I started up the second set of steps, trying to keep my balance. E threw herself on the floor and started screaming. Just then, a woman who works upstairs came down to find us. She took one look at E then gave me that look. You know the look...

It's the look that says, "You're really going to let your child do that?"

I glared back at her with the look that says, "Oh, aren't you cute... you little twenty-something with your innocent wide-eyes, wearing skinny-jeans stuffed with skinny little hips that have never pushed out a baby... and way too much eyeliner, snappin' your gum and playing on your cellphone because you're just... bored."

I wanted to take out her gum, put it in her hair, wipe boogers on her skinny jeans, take off her cute flats, swap them with my sensible loafers, spit-shine her hair, take a Sharpie out of my purse and draw on her pretty white blouse like a flipping white board, put a glitter-glue hand print on her left boob, then get in her face and yell, "MOMMY!! MOMMY!!! MAMA! MAMA!!!" close enough to her that my nose was in her mouth while sobbing "I want watch Paw Patrol!! I want watch Paw Patrollll!!"

Then I'd calmly step back and ask her, "Now do you care if she's rolling on the floor?" and "Would you mind helping me with my bags?"

15 Minutes of Cleaning is Saving My Life!

Today is Whatever Wednesday, so I've chosen to share what I am most excited about right now. I know this is hard to believe. I can hardly believe it myself (blinks a few times), but it's housecleaning.

Don't run off just yet, I'm serious. You know me, right? I usually hate housecleaning. Actually, "hate" is too gentle of a word.

I despise it with the rage of a thousand rabid dogs.

I could get into all the psychological reasons for this and go into a long rant about my cleaning past, but the gist of it is that I had a wonderful mom growing up who did almost everything for me. I had to keep my room clean, help clear the dinner table, put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and do my own laundry (if I really wanted a certain article of clothing clean). Occasionally, I helped out by doing the bathrooms, vacuuming, etc. Other than that, my mom did it all and didn't really mind if my room was a mess, cluttered with a pile of unfinished projects. She was amazing. The table was cleared every night of homework and toys, dinner always on the table, dishes done before she went to bed.

And for some reason, I'm still living like she's in the house with me. Then, I seem surprised to look behind myself and find a trail of creative wreckage that no one but me is responsible for picking up.

Then, of course, the negative thought process kicks in, "You're lazy, you're still such a child, you're forgetful, you're not a good housewife," and worse, "Ellie will get sick, because your floors are dirty." Everything must be my fault.

On Friday, I had a particularly rough day feeling overwhelmed by the housework and expecting company to come over. I finally cancelled all my plans, and that made me even more upset. I had a meltdown, as something as simple and insignificant as the garbage not being taken out became bigger in my mind. I thought, "I'm not in control of my own life," and "We're all going to die." Thanks, anxiety.

For the first time ever, I called my counselor and cried like a baby. She talked me off the hypothetical ledge, told me to stop cleaning, to let Ellie watch a TV show, and to put my feet up and take a break (physically and emotionally).

She also asked me, "Was it like this when it was just you and Mark?" No. Well, sometimes, but we could quickly pick up on a Saturday when we had nothing else to do. Now we have a toddler who demands a lot of our attention and is also a little bit like a Tasmanian Devil baby, flying through our house and undoing any of our picking up in about 5 minutes flat.

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She then suggested FLY Lady. I was skeptical, but it was a project, and you know how I love starting new projects. I'm still very new to this project, and as with most things, I'm customizing it to work for me right now.

Here is how I started:

• There is a list of baby steps on the site (here) that you can start any time. These are just little "habits" to get you into a routine. The first is to "shine your sink" every night. For me, this means, emptying the dishwasher at some point during the day, then before bed, all dirty dishes go in the dishwasher, and I wipe down the sink. As a result, my counters stay pretty clean, and I wipe those down when I can during the day.
  
  The FLY (Finally Love Yourself) Lady calls sink-shining her little "hug" to you in the morning -- seeing your clean sink. A bunch of baloney, you say? I thought so too. At first. But I have to say, seeing that clean sink each morning is nice. It makes my morning routine easier, which consequently makes the rest of my day easier, so it's a gift from myself to myself. "Thank you, self." "Oh, no, thank you, self!"
• One of the next baby steps is to "dress to shoes" each morning. I'm almost always dressed first thing in the morning but rarely have a spare pair of shoes to throw on, so I've skipped this step. I believe it's geared toward those of us who need that extra boost in the morning, and I have a toddler boosting me most days. I will, however, make sure to do this on weekends.
• But the BIGGEST and most important part of this little program for me has been the 15 minutes of decluttering. That's it. 15 minutes each day. I picked my target areas that I felt were most in need of picking up (though the site designates zones, as you'll see). On Monday, I decluttered the living room in 15 minutes. FLY Lady suggests setting a timer -- I use the oven timer. Yesterday, I cleared the kitchen table of mail and E's toys underneath. Again, I only did 15 minutes. When the timer went off, I was done. It's Wednesday. Three days later, and I have a relatively clean living room and dining room. My kitchen counters are clear, and there are no dishes in the sink.
• I spend each afternoon only maintaining these areas -- pick up dining room table, empty dishwasher. I pick up the living room after E goes to bed which usually only takes a minute or two to throw her toys in a basket. Altogether, I probably spend about 15 minutes each afternoon picking up. If E gets into a game during the afternoon, I do my extra 15 minutes of decluttering then. If I get interrupted, I stop the timer and start again later.

Going Forward
When you visit the FLY Lady page, you can click on the "Today" tab, and the "Flight Plan" link. Everyone has access to this -- no sign-up or sign-in required. Here, she has everything organized into sections. Once I feel my home has been significantly decluttered (just focusing on trouble-areas for now), I'll be at a better starting point for moving into the "zones."

• Each week, FLY Lady designates a zone to focus on, and each day of that week, you spend your 15 minutes of time in that zone. Read more about zones on her site, here. This week's zone is the Bathroom and Laundry Room. She assigns tasks for you to complete in that short amount of time, and at the end of the week, you have a spotless zone. Again, you can switch zones if you need to focus on another area of your house, but the tasks for each area are so well organized and explained, it's worth following the flight plan as closely as possible.
• The site has TONS of other ways to help you get into other routines like drinking more water and detailed cleanings. It also has lots of products to help on your journey, but starting with these simple baby steps, splitting up my cleaning time, having time for the other things in life that make me happy, and having a relatively clean apartment (after only day 3) has been life-changing, and I hope you'll like it too!

Also, "I need help!"
Maybe it's just because Mark and I both work and have a toddler, but as much as I love this cleaning plan, I need help with it. I strongly encourage you to share your housecleaning plan (whatever it may be) with your partner and children. Let me tell you why...

The first night I shined my sink was an awakening for me. It was finally admitting to myself that I needed more help, that I needed FLY Lady to be my surrogate cleaning-mom and to tell me what to do each day in order to have less chaos and clutter in my home.

I don't need a perfect home. I just want to be able to make food in my kitchen, to have enough room on my couch so that both Mark and I can sit on it, to be able to use my dining room table, and for guests to be able to use my bathroom and not get exposed to some 18th-century disease that I'm sure is breeding in my toilet. Those are the very small goals I've set for myself.

So, I said to my beautiful sink, that first evening, "Goodnight, see you in the morning friend," and fell asleep happy. When I woke up, I remembered my good deed and rushed out to see it sparkle, to feel that happy feeling of doing something good for myself. And you know what?

Someone had put a nasty milk cup and bowl of old coleslaw in it after I had gone to bed. Ugh. Mark must have been too tired to really understand my little speech about sparkly-sink excitement the night before. I explained to him again why this was so important to me.

Now he knows, and even if he doesn't help me shine it, he surely won't put dishes in there before bed. We're on the same page, and it feels great.

He even has offered to do his own 15 minutes each night, and I've given him tasks that are hard for me to do during E's nighttime routine -- like take out the garbage and put the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. Those 2 tasks left me with a clean kitchen last night.

We both woke up this morning and smiled at each other in our clean kitchen. "This is nice," Mark admitted. Plenty of room to make lunches, and a clean sink to rinse dishes. "Yeah, it is."

Back to the Future of Cards!

I’m going to combine Tutorial Tuesday into a Whatever Wednesday today and show you how I made my most recent card and tell you about the FUTURE of my cards and prints!

I’m incredibly motivated right now to help this local family, and I feel like the universe keeps giving me opportunities to continue helping.

As of tomorrow, I won’t be selling any more of my hand-drawn cards. This was the plan all along, but I think some small part of me felt like I could keep this up forever and keep donating all the profits. That’s just not feasible right now, and I need to focus on the next step, to ultimately help in a bigger way.

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So, to sum up the hand-drawn orders: today is the last day to place an order if you want one, and I should have all cards completed by next week.

If you’ve already ordered a set earlier this week, they should ship by Friday. And any orders from today will ship next week. Thank you all SO much! It’s looking like we’ll have at least $150-200 to give to this family this week. Yay!

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Going forward, I’m going to take most of these designs, digitize them, and have them printed. Using this process, I’m also going to be creating some parenting/new-baby prints with inspirational quotes.

The great thing about the digital process is that I can mass-produce cards and prints, add color digitally, and have them printed and re-printed to meet demand. AND a portion of the profits will continue to benefit our sponsored family. (I’ll have more information soon about how else you can help if you'd like, more details about this family’s situation, and the “Donate” button on the left side of my page will hang out there, probably indefinitely.)

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ALSO. Tune in over the next few weeks as I (quickly) churn out my first few batches of cards and prints. I’m getting ready to set up a table for the Child and Baby Expo (April 12th, 10am-2pm, Berlin Elementary School), so these will have a baby/parenting theme!

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And if you’re feeling bummed at missing an opportunity to buy one of my hand-drawn cards, here’s how you can make your own!

As I’ve said before, I’m all about CHEAP shopping, BARGAIN bins, and CLEARANCE sales. Storm them to find stamps, and pick up a cheap stamp pad. I found this “Hello Friend” one in the dollar bin at A.C. Moore. There are probably still some there! I used a stencil to create this oval, but I’ve also traced Tupperware lids and anything else I can find around the house – kids’ toys are great! Also, think cookie-cutters and magnets. You can make some great “tangles” or doodles by just filling these traced shapes with patterns.

For patterns, I think I’ve mentioned tanglepatterns.com, and the one I shared here is from The Zentangle Untangled Workbook by Kass Hall. There’s nothin’ to it!

Some of these patterns did take me some practice. And, if you look closely at some of my hand-drawn cards, you’ll even notice that I made mistakes. That’s what makes them special, though, and it’s one of the things I love about doodling and Zentangling. The mistakes shape the drawings. Many of my sketches were transformed by a 2-year-old bumping my elbow. I keep some scrap paper handy to stamp on and sketch. Then, once I know the layout I want to do, I go right to work in pen. I use an 05 Micron Pen to do the ovals. It makes the outline a little thicker. Then I use a 01 Micron Pen for the interior detail. But any old pen or Sharpie will work, and you should always use what feels comfortable to you!

If you make any of your own designs and want to share, please tag them on Instagram! -- #ymistrange

Nature V. Nurture, Waterparks, and Donuts

I’ve been wanting to take E to the Jay Peak Pump House for awhile, but I was unsure about cost, driving distance, etc. The other day, Nissa at BVTMomsBlog had a great post (here) listing some ideas for local indoor fun. The Pump House was on the list, and I just had to try it out! I checked the rates on the website and found out that E would be free (ages 3 and under), and I would only have to pay the $10 “supervision” rate. Seriously. Ten dollars to go to a water park for a day. You can’t beat it!

The play area for the younger kids is wonderful – mini waterslides, water guns, fountains, a huge bucket of water that dumps over the play structure, a la Typhoon Lagoon at Disney. There are so many ways that the kids can interact with the water.

E was a little nervous at first. She spent the first hour staying by my side and taking it all in. We finally went up on the play structure together, but one drenching soak from the big bucket had us moving back to the wading pool. She was a little startled, but we laughed it off. When she’s a little older, I think she’ll love it. But, for now, the yellow “baby” waterslide is perfect. She watched and waited for a lull in the crowd of kids lining up to get on the yellow slide.

I asked her if she wanted me to take her to it. She said, “No, Mama. I do this by myself.” She had clearly spent the last half hour scoping out the scene and thinking about how she was going to tackle that amazing yellow slide. After she got the hang of it, she jumped right in line with other kids who were now flocking back to the main attraction. She took her time, even as some kids pushed her aside and flew past down the slide. She was unfazed (thank you, day care!). She patiently waited her turn.

One little girl who was older led her to the slide and helped her up the stairs, letting E go first. The girl looked up at her father who gave her a happy nod of approval. Every other child who flew past E was being chased by a mother yelling, “Wait your turn!” I silently thanked God for a positive experience with parents who were involved and paying attention. Kids will be kids. We didn’t mind waiting, but it was nice to see parents trying to simply make their kids more aware of the younger ones.

E sat down at the top of the slide, and though there was a line a mile long behind her, she sat for a minute to throw her arms in the air, look to the skies, and say, “Ready! Set! GO!!” Everyone else around her faded into the distance, into a garbled sea of splashes, laughter, and chatter. And in her own, little, secret space, she quietly stole her own little moment of sunshine. This is me. Waiting, watching, sneaking, then carefully being happy when I feel it’s safe to do so. And this is Mark. Not afraid to try something new, but waiting and studying every move, planning how he will do it until just the right moment, and doing it skillfully, perfectly, without fear.

This was really the first time I saw her interacting with a large group of kids in a public setting, and to see mine and Mark’s personalities pop up in a very social way was amazing. She has learned most of her social interaction through day care, so I think I expected that she would just act like the other kids. This “nature vs. nurture” thing blows my mind.

Before I knew it, she was comfortable running to each activity, getting drenched. A diaper change didn’t deter her. The entire time I was changing her, she kept asking, “We go back waterpark? We play in water more?” Sure, why not!? We stayed until dinner time and ate a light dinner at the pizza shop off the lobby.

I don’t know what it was about this day – the fact that we got to play in the water, that it was 84 degrees inside, or that the entire place felt like a Disney park from my childhood. It was by far one of the best days of my life. I was relaxed, playing in the water, with my little girl, in the middle of February, after a long winter of too-cold days and snow storms.

It didn’t matter that changing clothes in the bathroom stall with a 2-year-old was traumatic for both of us. She put her hands on the toilet seat and smiled at me, knowing I would scream, “NooOOOooo!! Err-mah-gahd!! Germs!” She found the “override” button for the auto-flush toilet which triggered a very “splashy” toilet to spew water 10 feet in the air, in a 2-foot by 3-foot stall, causing me to press my barely-clothed body against the side of the stall and scream, “NooOOOooo!!!” again.

It didn’t matter that I had to put both of our bare, clean feet on the floor of a public bathroom, even though it caused me to squirm and cringe like I was walking through snakes. Or that, at some point, the baby wipes must have fallen out of our bag, and I ended up having to use a spare diaper to wipe down a poop-covered toddler who was using one of my favorite dresses as a changing pad (gah, I always forget that thing!).

It didn’t matter that… that diaper ended up not being a “spare” diaper, and I had to take an un-diapered, un-potty trained toddler to a restaurant where she drank an entire bottle of apple juice then put her in her car seat for an hour-long ride home.

It didn’t even matter that… she said she “spilled” her juice in the car, that she wanted to stop at “(Old) McDonalds (House)” to use the bathroom, and that she could definitely wait 3 miles until we got there. But what she actually meant was that she had peed through 5 layers of clothing and her car seat cover.

And I didn’t even mind that we ended up having to stop at Dunkin’ Donuts instead to change my toddler (and let her stand barefoot in another public restroom, because we lost her socks), while I dried her pants under the high-powered hand dryer. She thought this was hilarious, and laughed so loud each time I turned on the dryer that I thought she was going to hurt herself.

And I even calmly laughed (because, it was just downright hilarious) when I finally got her dressed again and brought her to the counter to get a water, and the guy said, “What can I get for you?” and she sang in the loudest and highest pitched opera voice I had ever heard in all my years, “I’D LIIIIIKE A DOOOOONUT!!” The guy stared back and said in a deadpan tone, “What kinda donut?” She responded with the song of our people, “ONE WITH FROOOOOSTING!!”

We had our rough moments, but it was worth every minute to have a little summer break after a long winter!

We got home, and she gave me a big hug and said, “Thank you, Mommy. I had fun playing in the water with you!” I gave her a bath to wash off the chlorine and bathroom germs, and Mark put her to bed. She cried to go back to the water park but once in her crib, she fell right to sleep. Sweet dreams, bubby! We’ll have more fun tomorrow!

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E also wrote a new song on the road trip. She was inspired by a tree lit with Christmas lights outside of a restaurant. It goes like this:

"Oh, Christmas tree! You are so pretty!!

Christmas tree! You are so beautiful... ... to me!
Oh, Christmas tree! Would you like a donut?