The Rice and Beans Eating #FAIL

I've put off writing this post for a while because I feel like a Rice and Beans participant failure. I was so excited about the possibilities this month was going to bring to our family, the solidarity, the fasting from the world, the fasting from all foods in the "junk" category. I never thought I'd be a push-over-giver-upper. I began preparing our family for a month of just rice, beans, and assorted vegetables in January. We don't normally eat beans, not because we don't like them, simply because I didn't know how to make them. So in January I got some bean making advice and started making them for dinner twice a week.

The first time I made them Hayden ardently declared his dislike and refused to eat any of them. At first I thought he was being spoiled and would eventually grow to love them.....given time....and hopefully before the two months was up. I was grossly mistaken. Not only does he still not love them, he can barely stomach them. That makes two whole foods that my 3 year old can't stand, Beans and BRUSSEL SPROUTS. Who knew beans could even be grouped in the same category as brussel sprouts?! I mean, that's like comparing them to cabbage juice....which really just tastes like broccoli. Gah, some vegetables are rank. I digress.

We've gone from spoon feeding him the beans, to threatening him with imminent discipline, to watching him gag, and finally a grand ending about 2 weeks ago where he threw up after dinner. That's when I threw in the towel. Instead of solidarity we were getting stress, complaints, confusion, and finally barf.

I haven't completely given up. Mariah LOVES beans, and Helmut also seems to like them, so I'm still making them two or three times a week. I'm already looking forward to next year and thinking of how I can do things differently in between now and then to smooth the transition for the kids.

I feel a tremendous amount of guilt about this whole process. I know if we didn't have any other food available to us Hayden would probably learn to like his beans....or at least appreciate their value.

In spite of quitting early I have taken a few lessons out of this challenge. I do think I use food as a crutch, and a comfort more than I realized I did. I often let my daily menu dictate my mood, and happiness factor. I constantly "reward" myself with edible treats and make up for daily losses in sanity with coffees, chocolates, or CHEESE (did I tell you about my recent love affair with Brie?) All practices that I hadn't realized that I was developing and hope to curb quickly. I don't think their is anything wrong with treating oneself once in a while...just maybe not as often or as extravagantly.

Picture courtesy of Lahash. For more info on what Rice and Beans month is click here. For more info on the people behind Rice and Beans click here.

Hayden's Birthday

I was going to make a post about Hayden's birthday with tons of pictures of the party and everything that followed, but my actual camera isn't working and I keep getting the beach ball of doom when I try to upload the pictures to my computer. So instead I'm going to give you this picture with Hayden riding his birthday present, and a little explanation of our day.

Saturday we had a party for Hayden at an indoor play place, which was really fun and he had a great time. It was a morning party which meant me dragging myself across the floor and plunking in the car, forgetting to put on my make-up (which FYI is pretty embarrassing when you already look half asleep because you ARE ACTUALLY half asleep). When we got there I gulped down large amounts of coffee and SOSed my friend to bring me make-up, but unfortunately she didn't get the message....The coffee worked wonders though and I quickly forgot my ugly face and had a great time too. I'm not absolutely positive, but I'm fairly certain I didn't stop talking until we left 2.5 hours later, at which point I caught myself rambling about absolutely nothing to Helmut in the car on the way home and finally stopped.

Hayden just happens to share the same birthday as another girl in our church. Last year we didn't have a party for Hayden, but we attended a party for this little girl on his actual birthday. It was almost like having a party for him but with her getting all the gifts. Ghetto? I think not. It's AWESOME. This year she came to our party in the morning, then we attended hers in the evening. I should also mention that at last year's party Hayden was AWFUL, and I was so depressed (PPD) that I almost cried in front of everyone at least 25 times.

This year was completely different. Hayden was a changed kid. He played all the games, followed instructions, sat in a chair like a real human being, and ate his cake with a fork instead of smashing it all over his face. I was so proud my face was shining like the sun and I couldn't stop smiling. I felt so happy I was able to do what I do best: give out lots of unsolicited advice.

Don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean I've forgotten last weeks "runaway incident." In fact I think I'm permanently scarred from that. I'm going to need therapy to get past it....and a masseuse, turns out carrying a 40 lb kid on one hip and pushing a stroller while shooting laser beams from your eyes and having steam from your white hot rage coming out your ears does bad things to your back. I haven't been able to sit comfortably for a week.

The Story

Okay, I'm ready to tell what happened. You'll probably laugh when you read this and think what a sissy I am for freaking out so much, but here you go:

We went to the park to enjoy some of the nice weather. While we were there some kids came along and showed Hayden a little snake they had caught. It was really cute and Hayden was enthralled. He proceeded to follow them around the park mimicking things they did and said, climbing whatever they climbed and chasing them whenever they would run away. I sat on the park bench next to Mariah, who was munching snacks in the stroller, and thought how adorable and outgoing he was.

Then one of the kids decided to leave. She started walking across the park to the basketball courts and soon after the other kids followed her, including Hayden. There is a large expanse of grass between the park and the basketball courts, followed by a small expanse of grass and the exit. The whole park is fenced in and only has 3 exits. It's about 2 acres. Once he got to the basketball courts I hollered at him to come back. I'm not sure why I thought he would listen, that was my first mistake. Then he ran to the farthest exit, still following the kids. I hollered much MUCH louder thinking surely he wouldn't actually follow them out of the park, that was my second mistake. Soon he had exited the park barely giving me a backward glace as I screamed at him to come back (literally screamed, in fact I'm pretty sure the whole county heard me). By this time I had thrown his tricycle into the back of the stroller buckled Mariah in and was running full speed across the park screaming for one of the kids to grab him before he got away. I could no longer see him as he had run past some houses that were blocking my view and continued down the street amidst traffic. I left Mariah stranded in the stroller at the side of the park and ran down the street to where one of the kids had caught him and was holding him down. I grabbed him and carried him back to the park to get Mariah, all the while fuming and ranting about how naughty he had been.

It was a long LONG walk home. I often marvel how when I am at my breaking point with him, God inserts a long walk or a long drive to help me cool off before I have to discipline him. I did spank him for it, and I was still a little angry, but not nearly as angry as I was before a 1/2 mile hike pushing a stroller with one hand and carrying him with the other.

So that's it. I'm still traumatized and haven't taken him to the park again....or even on a walk. So now not only are we not going shopping together, but we are not going ANYWHERE, AND I'm seriously considering pre-school. I'm not sure how much more of the constant daily naughty stuff I can take before I lose my mind.

Baby Shoes and Why Target Brand Pregnancy Tests are the Devil

Sorry I have been neglecting my blog. I have been sewing shoe after shoe in the attempt to figure out how to use my sewing machine and make a baby shoe that is actually wearable. There are little brown shoes littering the living room floor and not a single one of them even fits Mariah....not to mention how NOT cute they are. Apparently my sewing skillz leave something to be desired. I am learning though, and having a surprising amount of fun doing it. I've never considered myself to be "crafty," in fact, years of motherly encouragement and repeated attempts to even LIKE knitting had me giving up on myself, but i'm realizing that sewing is completely different and for some reason that i can't put my finger on i'm actually liking it.

In other news that deserves to be written about, I almost found out I was pregnant on Thursday. I had been feeling really tired for a few days, and add to that a few other unmentionable symptoms and rather than sweat it out I decided to take a pregnancy test....not to mention how much I enjoy peeing on sticks. If those things were cheaper I would buy piles of them just for the pure enjoyment of taking random pregnancy tests. I'm not sure where this fascination comes from, I hope for Mariah's sake it's not genetic. Off to target I went and bought myself a box of pregnancy tests. I should mention that I didn't really think I was pregnant....I mean, the possibility was there, but lets say it was only 2.3%. We have been unbelievable careful since Mariah was born, shell shocked into not wanting another baby just yet.

We put the kids to bed, then I took the test and sat there waiting for my answer. Two minutes later I was still sitting there, staring at the test window and trying to decide if a very very verrrry faint line was a mistake or if I could actually be pregnant. These things don't lie right?? I've read it's almost impossible to get a false positive, but HOW IN THE WORLD COULD I POSSIBLY BE PREGNANT?! I followed that performance with two heart attacks, a shudder, some tears, frantic praying, and then many feelings of guilt over how the baby would feel if it ever found out my initial reaction to it's presence. I laid in bed trying to go to sleep, but unable to think about anything accept how that test couldn't be right. Finally I got up the nerve to ask google about it. Google knows, people. Apparently I'm not the only one who has gotten a false positive from target brand pregnancy test. It happens ALOT. In fact, there are so many people complaining that I'm surprised they haven't done something about it yet.

I read multiple stories about women who have fertility problems taking them and being overjoyed thinking that had finally gotten pregnant, only to find out later from a doctor that the test was wrong. Reading those heartbreaks and disappointments was convicting. I know that if I were to get pregnant now I would love the child unconditionally, as I love my other children, but ideally for the sake of my sanity I would like to wait 5-10 years.....or at LEAST 2.5.

That information obtained I waited for the morning and then peed on another stick just for fun....and too add yet another false positive to the pile. I then thumbed my nose at target brand and went on to tell the story to a couple of friends thinking it was funny. Neither of them thought it was funny and both insisted that I take another test to be sure. I bought the expensive brand the second time around and came up with a NOT PREGNANT on the first try.

For a tightwad I have spent an awful lot of money on pregnancy tests this week....about 22$ to be exact....22$ that i could have been blowing in Etsy's general direction.

Never buy store brand pregnancy tests when you want to know the truth the first time. Lesson Learned.

The Terrible TWOS

It's weird when I look back on the day at all my "grievances" and realize how small and mundane they were (ok, i take that back, i just reread this post and I'm still irritated by everything that happened). This afternoon I was ready to blow my top...I almost did several times, and I can confirm at least two occasions where i was literally shaking with wrath at atrocities committed by Hayden's hand, but if i told you what they were you would probably shake your head at me for getting so bent out of shape about them...not true they were really that bad.

But in the interest of being honest....and venting I'm going to tell you anyway. Let the head shaking and finger wagging begin.

It began at the grocery store, a happy outing with friends where Hayden proceeded to run helter skelter around the store, grabbing at the glass bottles of salad dressings....and/or ANY glass bottles, laying on the floor again and again and again, and making loud "whooping" noises until at last my patience ran out and I made him sit in the basket of the shopping cart as a punishment to him....and me (because once in there he squashed all my food).

Then it progressed to nap time. On most days this is a pretty easy venture. Today EVERYTHING was working against me. Nap time with two kids is very different from nap time with just one. It's a carefully orchestrated feat to be pulled off by only the most persistent and bull-headedly stubborn of parents. In order to get both children napping at the same time every afternoon, I have to wake them up at certain times every morning, (Hayden 8:30; Mariah 9) and Mariah must wake up from her morning nap by 12pm. If those things happen then I have a 95% chance of getting them both to go to sleep at 2pm. I put Mariah in bed, get her cozy, and then leave and do the same with Hayden, then I lie on the floor next to him until Mariah stops crying (don't feel bad, Mariah has always cries at nap time, regardless of whether i rock her, bounce her, do cartwheels or magic tricks for her, nothing works) and Hayden falls asleep. Then I'm golden for almost 2 hours.

On the way home from the grocery store Mariah fell asleep....for 15 minutes. When we got home she woke up and I thought she might go back to sleep so i put her in her bed and got Hayden in his bed. We both lay there for the next 30 minutes listening to Mariah alternate between playing in her crib to screaming like a wildcat. Finally we all gave up and I decided that it was in every ones best interests to skip nap time for now.

The next several hours included, Hayden throwing random stuff into the toilet, which i had to fish out with my BARE HAND. Hayden beaming his best friend in the face with a railroad track (sorry M). Hayden throwing a ball and knocking over a soda which gushed all over my arms, the carpet, and the furniture. Putting his hands in his spaghetti and rubbing it on his face, throwing spaghetti on the floor, wiping spaghetti on my arms, splashing gallons of water out of the bath tub, throwing a tantrum for having to pull up his own pants after going potty, and many more delightful incidences which i have happily blocked from my memory.

By 3pm I was cramming chocolate in an effort to avoid a total meltdown (like that ever works?!) by 6pm I had caved on my diet and was stress eating spaghetti, by 6:30 I had given myself a time-out, and by 6:45 when Helmut got home my rise in blood pressure was easily viewed by the bulging vein in my neck.

Now the little angels are happily asleep in their beds and I have had a few minutes of silence to collect myself and pick my brains up off the floor and have decided that I want a massage.

Human Alarm Clocks

Somebody needs to inform my 11 month old and 2 year old that I will be happy to assist them with all their night time needs and early morning wake up but i will require a platter of egg, bacon and cheese taco's, a super-sized latte, and some brownies....and even then i will probably still resemble this:


Last night I went to bed with a headache. I even took some Tylenol because i thought it would help and put me to sleep. It didn't. I lay awake for another hour until Hayden came in and helped himself to the middle section of our bed. I then spent the next 7 hours fielding blows to my face and back. I miss the days of the crib, when he couldn't get out and he slept good every night by himself...and when i didn't wake up in the morning with a black eye from where my 2 year old kicked me and socked me with his stuff cat. Seriously, is he training to be a ninja in his sleep? On a side note: maybe i should stop showing him Kung Fu Panda before bed.

Mariah also decided to join in the fun by randomly waking, screaming and thrashing around when i picked her up (usually a sign that she's having an allergic reaction to a bug bite). I responded with my usual reaction to a random midnight wakening which is to mutter curses and swears under my breath and shake my fist at the sky....not actual curses and swears, just the words "curses" and "swears." By morning i was so grouchy that when my husband made a comment about leaving for work, I almost spontaneously combusted.

There are no sick days as a mom. I think that's the most difficult part of being a mother for me. Sometimes i just want to sleep of a bad night but i can't. I do have to give Helmut some credit though, since we don't have any family around us he really does step up and give me a break when I really need it. As the morning progressed things got better. Two cups of hot chocolate later and I was able to stop my seething and start in with the annoyed sighing (a step up I assure you). All's well that ends well right? I sure hope tonight goes better though. I would just hate to burst a blood vessel from a dramatic rise in blood pressure tomorrow morning.

For the Birds

How to tell if you're mom's favorite:


I take no credit whatsoever for the above picture/post. I stumbled across it here when I was hunting for some inspiration for tonight. Beware, some of the posts should be rated midway between PG-13 and R.

It's not the inspiration hasn't been forthcoming, after all we did have our first accident in the middle of a target yesterday, but Hayden's subsequent humiliation made me feel so guilty for wanting to make it into a funny story that I've decided not to officially post about it. As for details I'll just say that he ran into a metal shelf with his face, started screaming in pain, then let loose the floodgates onto a carpeted section of the local target to the horror of myself and another mother who witnessed the little catastrophe. Of all the people that were involved, I think Hayden was the most horrified. He hasn't had any accidents since then and now I can say that I'm no longer the mother who's son hasn't peed in an inappropriate place.

When I was 2.5 I received a piece of advise from my then 5 year old sister Kristi that I've never forgotten, perhaps the most important piece of advice I've ever been given. I grew up in the 80's when double socks and pegged acid wash jeans were cool. My oldest sister was very trendy and thus the donning of double socks was a daily occurrence. Kristi and I used to tease her and make fun of her double socks, because really, how many socks does a person need? When Kristi turned 5 she started going to school and I used to watch her getting ready. One morning I noticed her donning the double socks. She must have seen my shocked faced because I have never forgotten the words that she spoke to me. She said, "Kari, never make fun of someone for what they are doing because someday you might find yourself doing exactly the same thing."

That has never been more true than in my life as a mother. So far I've done and behaved in ways I never thought possible for me. My kids have done things I never expected them to do, and as far as self pride, I'm pretty certain mine is non-existent. I do however have pride in other areas. Mostly my children's accomplishments. While they may not be newsworthy, I mean, EVERYbody's kids get potty trained eventually, they still make my heart burst with pride.

That said I should admit that at a birthday party last year I witnessed a very small girl pooping on the floor of a child's activity center. My first reaction was to be supremely grossed out. My second reaction was to remove Hayden, and my last reaction was the BLAME THE PARENTS. What kind of parents bring they're OBVIOUSLY only partially potty trained child to an activity center without putting a pull-up on her? Gross. I don't think what Hayden did was quite as embarrassing as what that little girl did, but I guess I knew I had it coming since then. *guffaw*

My Future Tell All

One day I would like to write a tell-all book for new mothers. Some of the chapters would include:

Labor and the week after - what your mom won't tell you.
Breastfeeding - how nature really intended it to feel.
The Tantrum months - how to survive.
and Introducing #2 (by this i mean the second child.....not poop) - the types of mayhem you should expect.

And that's as far as I've gotten, because let's face it Hayden is only 2.5 and that's all the hands on experience I've had so far.

The first 17 months of Hayden's life were mothering bliss for me. I enjoyed every minute of it. He was arguably the worlds easiest baby. I was enraptured by his every smile, it was so good it was almost magical, like floating on a cloud or dancing in a flowery meadow. I felt on top of the world, like I must have some mad mothering skillz to have such a good baby. I loftily looked down on the mother of the screaming child in the grocery store and wished to myself that she would control her young so it wouldn't wake my sleeping angel.

Then Hayden turned 18 months old, started throwing hourly tantrums and having routine scream fests, hitting other kids and kicking them and doing that really annoying head butting trick that kids learn (you know, when you're holding them and they slam their head into your face and give you a bloody nose). My lofty dreams of being the perfect mother and avoiding all the parenting pitfalls plummeted. So much for my perfect angel. What the heck happened?

By this time in the story I was already pregnant with Mariah. At 15 months Hayden was such an angel that we decided he needed a little angel friend and companion to complete our angelic family. I was horrified. If this is how bad my son is now, what are we going to do when he actually turns 2? Maybe it's just a phase? Maybe we should spank him more? Time-outs? What the heck? After a few embarrassing incidences at the store and with friends we became somewhat reclusive. Too humiliated with our child's horrible behavior and not wanting to loose friends that we were just making we decided it would be best to keep him at home for a while and not expose other kids to his fury. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. We were lonely and desperate. Do other people have devil children like this? or is there something wrong with our kid? There is a good ending to this story so keep reading.

By this time I was full-term and gave birth to our precious girl. Now we had a little monster, and a new baby angel (or so we thought). Hayden, sensing the coming arrival, stopped sleeping and started waking up screaming several times nightly. By the time Mariah came along we were so sleep deprived that we didn't know how we were going to make it. We brought her home in all her wailing goodness and started trying to establish a routine. After a few almost calm days Mariah decided to fit with the theme of mayhem and be a colicky infant. She spent the next two months screaming incessantly.

I spent my days and nights in super-survival-mode. Must keep baby fed and changed. Must make sure Hayden doesn't hit her or pull her hair too many times. Must try to keep children ALIVE. Must not become so depressed that I miss out on the cute baby stuff. Yeah right, like that was going to happen. I spent many days swimming through a sea of depression, struggling to keep my head above water. How did we go from "angel child" to this is such a short time? Keep reading.

A few moths and much screaming and crying later I was researching my brains out trying to come up with solutions and I came across an article about pin worms. EWWWW GROSS. As if my child could have something that nasty! So for a few months I let it go. I mentioned to Hayden's Dr. that I thought he could have them, but she thought it unlikely and let it go at that. Then I found out that the cure is just an over-the-counter medicine and it's super safe. So I decided to try it out and OH MY GOSH it must be magic in a bottle! Hayden was about 26 months when I gave it to him and that day he threw his very last scream fest/tantrum. He also stopped waking up at night screaming. He started talking to other kids instead of hitting them first. He started laughing again and being normal. He turned into the little boy that I remembered from so long ago.

I don't want to blame everything on the worms. I know that much of his behavior was part of growing up. Going through the terrible 2's (which we're not through just yet) and the difficulty of getting used to a new sibling. Trimming the apron strings, but by no means cutting them. But it sure did help. Those months were so intense for us that dealing with the actual "terrible two's" doesn't seem that bad anymore. I still loose my patience too often, and overreact when he's naughty. I still sweat a river down my back when he screams over toys he can't have at the grocery store, but in the end it seems so much more bearable and normal. Like that's how it's supposed to be.

At this time I also figured out how to help Mariah with her colic. ENZYMES. If you're breastfeeding you can take them and again, it's magic in a bottle ( just be sure to consult a professional as to which are the best for a breastfeeding mom, some have herbs that you want to avoid). I started taking them for me, and two days later I had a calm sweet infant. I was able to stop pacing the living room with her for hours on end and actually sit down for a few minutes together. My sanity took a turn for the better. I started to feel like life could be fun again at some point and less like I was living in a self-made hell.

Mariah is now 9 months old and I'm back on top of the world, but with more humility. I no longer think of myself as a great parent, but instead a work in progress. I no longer look down on the mom of the screaming kid in the store.....because most often it is me. I find Hayden's behavior amusing and enjoy watching him interact with other kids.

To put it plainly: I love every minute of being a mom.