Eating Caterpillars

Families are full of compromises. With a family of toddlers this is most noticeable at meal time. There are the simple sacrifices like the cayenne pepper taking up residence in the deep dark corner of the spice cabinet. The bigger sacrifices come in the everyday struggle to eat and to feed the young.

I will admit right now that there have been those meals when in desperation an entire pork chop is speared and eaten like no civilized food should. The moment when corn became a finger food doesn't keep me up at night. Spaghetti... Or spaghetti sandwich? It comes with garlic bread for a reason. Even if I am eating like a human being... a silverwared, chair-sitting, napkin-using person, it is often at such speeds as to baffle the mind. Anyone who has met me can tell you that I'm in no danger of starving.  Lately the simple strategies I use to feed the kids has backfired and my appetite has become hostage to their imaginations.

Yesterday my little Cami insisted that we were in fact a family of caterpillars. She worked hard to control her irritation as I strode around the house on two legs, neglecting everything that we as caterpillars hold dear. She forgave me when my caterpillar voice came up lacking. As long as I called her 'my baby caterpillar' and answered to 'mommy caterpillar' we could continue a peaceful mother-daughter relationship. We're caterpillars, is that really asking so much?

Having firmly moved past my time as a caterpillar, I prepared to make lunch today. Fresh peas, strawberries, green grapes, chicken nuggets, and, most importantly, tiny rotini. Cami took one look and thought I was the best mom ever. "Thank you for making caterpillars for lunch mommy caterpillar." This is about the time I start searching the fridge for leftovers that sound a bit less like eating my own young.

I admit I rename a lot of foods to get my children well-fed. Apparently they're on to me and they have a few of their own. So here are the significantly less common and less appetizing names for food you may never want to eat again.
 

Creamy peanut butter... Blobby (Also, how you'll feel if you eat too much, too often.)
Vienna sausages... Baby doggies (Sound effects play a significant role as they whine and bark sadly, but much more quietly than regular doggies or hot dogs.)
Cooked peas... Little eyes
And my personal favorite, "Mommy, you got blood on my noodles." Spaghetti and marinara sauce.

Well, you get the idea. Add that to new flavors like fish stick lemonade or ketchup grapes and add a few yucks and ewws as they supervise my own lunch and you have the makings for a wonderful day in our toddler cafeteria.
It's these little compromises in life that build families, create memories and keep diets on track.

Sundays

We don't use alarm clocks in our house. We expect on Sunday, like every other day, to be awoken shortly after five o'clock am. We have a few hours in the morning of screaming. "I want to go to church." "Jacket please. Bye-bye please. Car please." Even the pleases aren't scream-proof.

The actual dressing of toddlers is a game, a chase, a workout and a general test of wills. I'm not sure how, but we usually win. Maybe it's unfair because we play until we win. Twenty-seven games to one, victory! This week we made an amazing and accidental discovery that we hope will revolutionize our getting ready process. They can dress each other! Mommy putting tights on Ava is a kicking, laughing, flailing terror. Cami putting tights on Ava is "thanks sister, thanks. Oh, pretty." The advantages of multiples becomes more obvious at this stage of life.

Dressed and armed with our quietest toys, pencils, paper, snacks, five little jackets and four plastic ponies, we are on our way.

To make it on time we leave promptly at lunchtime. We feed reluctant babies an hour early and the girls each get a tupperware lunch to eat on the drive. Yes, we do find the occasional shriveled grape or an apple slice that makes us wonder if it came dehydrated. A prehistoric looking piece of toast lurking under the back seat is worth arriving well fed, kids awake, and roughly on time.

We unload, something we often under estimate time-wise, and negotiate who holds whose hand. One of us navigates the parking lot with two babies twisting and craning to see all the Sunday morning minivan excitement. One of us has a grip on Ava and Bella with Cami hanging onto the other hand of her sister de jour. We select our entrance based on our ability to avoid water fountains, rooms that the girls could possibly associate with toys, that spot where once bubbles were blown, and things of that nature. We try to find a quiet side bench... One entrance, one exit. (Under the bench is a different difficulty all together).  If this all runs smoothly we are established for the first hour of church.

The first hour offers a variety of opportunities. One of our girls inveritably thinks she should conduct the meeting and exerts her efforts in that direction. Another believes there's a magical party somewhere in the building if only she can find it and the other is responsible for being so clingy that she sounds a warning cry if we go after an escaped sister.
We bring some toys, but everyone else's are somehow more fun. We bring snacks, but no one is hungry until the kid behind us is eating. Their pretzel sticks are some how vastly superior to our own. If we bring everything we might possibly need we won't use any if it. Everything we leave behind gives us the hope of a more smooth Sunday next week when we imagine that we'll remember our forgotten church perfecting toy or book.

No matter how loud are kids get we can't leave the meeting. Taking one crying toddler into the hall causes a cascading echo, avalanching behind me into five screaming toddlers. We have to stand, or rather sit, our ground until the hour is up.

The second hour presents its own challenges. The gap between the first and second hour grows into an endless chasm in the mind of a three-year-old and their parents. It's just long enough that all semblance of order is lost and by the time the next class finally starts toddler anarchy reigns. As everyone is seated for the next class my munchkin mayhem mounts. Class in full swing finds my little ones struggling between a desire to entertain the masses and making sure mommy and daddy stay within shouting distance.

The final segment of church is in a small enclosed classroom with snacks and coloring. By then, exhausted from the surge of irreverent energy, my children submit, perhaps partake in a short nap, and come out with smiles and hugs.

We are a mere mile down the road before the rebellion begins, "I want to go to church. I want to go to see my friends." Crying optional. "No one is there right now they all went home. Only seven more days Sweetheart."

pictures courtesy of amazing nursery leaders

 

A Letter Home

To my dear family and friends,

It is cold here on the front. The rain and winter winds whip around an icy chill and on all sides the enemy advances. It has been a long year. In January the RSV armoured regiment invaded our borders and left all our troops wounded and weak. Every time we tried to reinforce our defenses the enemy got stronger. By February we had little fight left in us and the enemy had been sent a special convoy of reinforcements. The pneumonia troops filled in the gaps that we had struggled to make in the enemy line. As their line advanced they overtook one of our best fighters. Private first class Cami was sent to the area hospital for fourteen days of R&R.

As February wound down our promised reinforcements were getting closer everyday. We managed to keep the enemy at bay by pulling back to a more defensible position. March brought great hope as we received word that our reinforcements were gaining strength daily. As they grew so grew our determination to beat the enemy once and for all.

One early morning in the first week of April we received intelligence that our reinforcements would be arriving within the day. They arrived as anticipated and the joy and relief among the local villages was astounding. It took ten days from their arrival for these new recruits to join our seasoned band of soldiers on regular duty, but it was well worth the wait. In the month ahead our new soldiers kept everyone on their guard and we were able to avoid any major offences until the enemy regrouped in early June.

The warm spring had left us lax in our perimeter checks and some days we neglected sending out patrols all together. This was just the opportunity that the pneumonia troops had been waiting for. They advanced on our position and brought with them agents of Strep and Ear infection. They continued to push back our defensive line late into the summer. Our troops were weak and tired, but we fought desperately to regain lost territory.

We just started to regain the first of the lost ground when in late August a contingent of Stomach flu captured some of our smallest soldiers. We were days in recovering them, but finally had a successful rescue. They were significantly weakened and the commanders kept them away from the front line during the remainder of the early fall so they could regain their strength. We faced many minor skirmishes, but overall we were able to keep the enemy at bay.

It was early November when the first Cold scout arrived, testing our defenses before the battle was to begin. Had we known then what we would face in the coming month we would have double our vigilance and reinforced the troops with all possible haste. It was just a few days later that we saw the first signs of the arrival of a Stomach flu squadron. They attacked at our weak points first leaving our youngest and least experienced out of battle for more than a week.

On what appeared to be the final day of fighting, who should arrive but the RSV armoured regiment. I must say our troops fought  bravely. On Christmas day they sang and ate, but all that day and night the attack continued unchanged. On the morning of the 27th our youngest soldier was taken captive. This caused a considerable decrease in morale. By new yea
leaving our youngest and least experienced out of battle for more than a week.

r's eve we had effected a rescue of our man, but by then the troops still on the line were giving way to a fresh division of Stomach flu.

All are alive and mostly well. We look forward to a day when the fighting can cease. Best wishes.

General Shelley

Justification

There are certain things that happen because I am a Mom of multiples.
1. I always eat the cookies that appear to have the most chocolate chips. I'm being practical. This not only saves on laundry, but spares my poor abused furniture.
2. Sometimes when all my kids are in a safe spot I stop in the middle of the day and just eat some food or even drink a glass of water. I do this facing a wall or staring out the window and just breathe. I don't even peek to see where or how far the yogurt has made it across the floor.
3. I hide toys from my kids. Then in a month when I get it back out I'm perfectly fine taking all the credit for the wonderful new toy I got them. I accept a hug or "thank you, mommy" equally.

4. I have hidden canisters of bleach wipes in every room of our house. Unfortunately the girls are great at hiding games and by the time I move them around enough that they give up I usually can't find them. I tend to come across them in a pinch.
5. My fruit bowl is bound to have at least two pieces of fruit at any given time that have bites taken out of them... sometimes an open half mutilated banana or an orange with a bite taken out of it right through the peel.
6. I can't thaw meat on the counter or in the sink. We had a roll of sausage out for less than an hour one day and found it gnawed with large raised areas shaped like mouth prints.
7. My girls probably look a bit rumpled at times. This may be partially due to the fact that I don't fold their clothes. I hang the dresses and everything is sorted and dumped into the appropriate basket.
8. We have days that involve way to much television.
9. I don't believe in caffeine... I don't believe in sleep much either. I survive off sugar and adrenaline. It can take a lot of sugar to stay awake on two hours of sleep a night for a week or more... a lot of sugar.
10. Sometimes our cheese looks like a mouse was in the refrigerator. Our beautiful girls will nibble their way through the packaging and chew off hunks of cheese. I buy two blocks if we're having company during the upcoming week... the other has to be smuggled to the back of the fridge for safety.
11. I have an eight to nine hour dead zone during the day while my husband is at work. There are no guarantees of food, water, or bathroom breaks during this time. Sometimes when I'm really hungry or my blood sugar starts to slip I have found a pretty foolproof way to have a small snack. I pretend to be a cat and the girls love feeding me 'cat snacks'... unfortunately it's usually dry breakfast cereal that someone asked for at breakfast and didn't finish.
12. I keep my dirty steak knives on the top shelf of the fridge because my girls like to climb up and bathe themselves in the kitchen sink with liquid hand soap... mostly Bella.
13. I let my kids fall asleep almost anywhere... sometimes it's just such a blessing that they're actually sleeping.
14. We eat pretty much anything we can coax, cajole, or persuade into someone.
15. If my house starts smelling like diapers I have been known to feed the babies cinnamon snack puffs and the girls apples and vanilla wafers... it works best in a hot car, but it makes a house smell a bit more festive too.
16. Sometimes we just need a quiet place to have a little person space.
17. Everything that comes into this house needs to be prepared to be tried and tested as an effective toy... everything.

A Tribute to Babies

In the Spring the young emerge beginning a new cycle in the familial development that has been establishing itself in the family pack since its formation. The adult male accepts the offspring into the tribe through the ritualistic building of the crib and installation of the car seats. These signs offer reassurance to the alpha female of the stability of her young as new members of the pride.

Babies are fantastic creatures. They seem gentle to an onlooker, but possess razor sharp fangs and regenerating talons, their cry can shatter glass (well almost) and pierce to your very soul. They are docile creatures for the most part and only attack during times of emotional overstimulation. Most baby related injuries are superficial, but caution is advisable. Smaller prey should be especially wary of possible attacks as they seem more prone to instigating extreme emotional states and make an easier target due to size issues.

Baby attacks are often used as social indicators. This tends to leave other babies just as vulnerable as an outsider, perhaps more so due to slower mobility at this stage. As attacks within a baby pride expand to include all local populace, the dominance of a single baby leads to the establishment of an alpha baby in the pack.

The alpha baby tends to spend more time sitting in an upright position. It is from this position that alpha baby, who we will call Daphne, asserts her position in the pack. Playful eye gouging and hair pulling not only cements her position among the babies, but are signs of her acceptance of their role in the intricate balance of the family unit. While these playful iconic interactions are sometimes returned by the other babies, Daphne maintains her position undisputed because of her power over her gravitationally influenced environment.

Dominance is also commonly mobility based. This major advantage in the pack also allows Daphne more exposure to the domestic dynamics that are in play within the tribe. She is thus enabled to find more opportunities to insert herself into social situations that have the capacity to increase her standing in the familial hierarchy.

As we take leave of our wiggly subject we have confidence in her thriving within the wilds of her family unit. She has established a maintainable position within the pack that ensures the giggles of the rest of the tribe.

Accessibility: Jilly's Cupcake Bar, Delmar Blvd

Accessibility: Twins

Bella 'sampling' Ava's cupcake

While the doors at Jilly's accommodate a basic double stroller the cupcakes lure in free range toddlers in a sort of quiet reverence. As we celebrated our 11th anniversary recently, babysitter-free, we decided what better place to take our little gaggle for a few moments of happy squeals. Despite the dangers, we let them each pick their own giant cupcake. I felt a swell of pride as Cami indicated the 'chocolate thunder' cupcake... this is most definitely my daughter... only to realize moments later that we were the proud owners of a giant yellow smiley face cupcake sitting next to the heavenly chocolate homage. Bella went with 'the bee sting' for its tiny candy bee that is gently nestled in the folds of lemon frosting atop a cake harboring a delightful lemon curd filling. Ava made it her goal to devour a 'nutter fluffer' with all the layers of butter cream frosting, marshmallow cream, and a large nutter butter cookie to top off the already mega-sized dessert for a twenty-eight pound two-year-old.

To save the Jilly's staff from blocking Bella kitchen access... again, we took our prizes home. It was the longest car ride in history...

Cami: Cupcake please Mommy. Cupcake please Daddy.

Cami finally gets her cupcake.

Me: We'll go home and then we'll have cupcakes.
Cami: But Mommy I need it. I need it. My cupcake.
Me: As soon as we get home you can have your cupcake.
Cami: Just a lick. I need a lick my cupcake.

... you get the idea.

Getting in the house was another ordeal entirely. Once our brains turned on we realized that the cupcakes had to lead the way from the car to the house. Three wide-eyed, anxious toddlers followed directly under the cupcake bag... right where I usually keep my feet. Once we set up our baby-sized picnic table and laid out the cupcakes they took their positions. Ready. Set. Go! The onslaught of moist cake and creamy frostings and fillings attacked our children without mercy, creeping across clothing, matting into hair, plastering itself into every cranny a two-year-old could have or imagine.

Ava is by far our neatest eater.

Accessible or not, go to Jilly's. If you chase toddlers all day you can afford the calories. One cupcake is easily enough dessert for two adults... not that I couldn't finish one off by myself if I set my mind and stomach to it in unison, but I wouldn't recommend it. Cupcake is now a magical word that brings joy to the hearts of my little ones. Eat a cupcake, make a baby smile. Jilly's. This is not a paid advertisement... I just love dessert.

http://jillyscupcakebar.com/

The Tale of Bella and the Majestic Waters

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Screamsalot, a young maiden was bound by the power and beauty of water. Young Bella was inexplicably drawn to the presence of the beautiful liquid. She carried with her a mighty receptacle to capture even the smallest liquid gem that she might have the good fortune to find.

One day as she traveled the borders of the kingdom, Lady Bella was enchanted by a magical device the spewed forth a plentiful supply of the most beautiful, most clear liquid gems she had ever seen. She could not resist the powerful draw of this magical device. It had to be explored and freed for the good of the kingdom and for the joy and delight of Lady Bella.

She prepared to ascend the great cliffs to reach the beautiful silver device and with it to obtain power over the glorious liquid gems that seemed to ever gleam before the eyes of the young maiden. As she came within sight of the cliff top her heart leapt within her for she knew that she had nearly reached her one true desire. Even as the hope swelled within her she was lifted into the air, her screams piercing the solitude of the evening. She had not suspected that the cliffs were guarded by two ferocious ogres. They banished Lady Bella to the kingdom floor and were heartless to her pleas for safe passage.

She wept on the floor of the valley deep below the beautiful cliffs while high above her her precious prize shimmered. Lady Bella was undaunted in her quest. Each day she began the perilous climb, again and again she was thwarted by the compassionless ogres that defied all her progress.

One day as the fair maiden began her precarious climb she noticed that the ogre had with it its young. Lady Bella had once again failed to achieve her goal, but now she devised a strategy.

Lady Bella followed the ogre in feigned innocence until she found the nest where the young were being sheltered. She patiently waited until the mighty ogres were  turned away in distraction and immediately she leap into the nest and stole away all the baby ogres' playthings. It was but moments before the cries of alarm and dissatisfaction were heard throughout the kingdom. The ogre rushed to its young and in so doing abandoned its watch on the watery cliffs. This was Lady Bella's fondest hope and greatest chance. She wasted no time as she scurried up the steep cliff, her goal clearly in mind. By the time the ogre realized its negligence the young maiden was joyously covered in warm, wet gems. Her glass overflowed to her delight and her curiosity was overwhelmed by the wonder of the majestic waters.