One Green Veggie a Day, Keeps Mommy Away

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Heck, any veggie a day would keep this mommy off your back!

My goodness what a hard headed, stubborn, and determined little man I have on my hands!   This mere 17 month old is starting to get the better of me and I’m running out of ways to attempt to out smart him.   Notice I used the word “attempt”, because as of today, I have yet to outsmart him, at least where eating his veggies is concerned.

I made Davey’s baby food from the start.   Not once did he ever eat anything out of the jar.   There was no such thing as processed food in our house, at least not for him.   I did it to have a healthy baby, but to also have a baby who wasn’t quite so picky with his food.   Lord knows I never thought I would be at the point where I’m practically begging my laughing child to actually just swallow a fourth of a green bean for me.

These days, where veggies are concerned, my son’s mouth is clamped down tighter than the doors of Fort Knox!  And I don’t know what to do!   He used to love spinach and carrots and celery and apples and all of that good stuff, but now he won’t eat it unless it’s covered in sugar or cheese or butter!   Where did he get this from?   Definitely not from our house and no one else really feeds him.

He used to eat pears, but not anymore.  I’ve bought him the Del Monte packs with the cubes that are packaged in water (I refuse to give him fruits that have been swimming in syrup for days or weeks or months).   Yesterday, I tried to give them as a snack.   He put one little cube in his mouth and then immediately opened his mouth again, stuck out his tongue, and let the cube slide off onto the floor.   So, I tried to offer the pears up mixed with yogurt.   That didn’t work either because he would suck off the yogurt and spit out (literally) the pear.

Last night I snuck in some broccoli with his macaroni and cheese.   He picked around the little trees and ate the macaroni!   What is going on with this kid?????   He’s starting to remind me of my younger brother…meat and potatoes only, thank you!   This can’t keep going on.   I’m willing to try anything.   Do any of you have some sort of advice on getting my child to eat more veggies?   They don’t have to just be green.   I’d settle for anything, even a squash.

One frustrated mommy here!

Never Say Goodbye

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“Diiixxxiieee,” my son likes to call out while searching for our dog.   He’s very melodramatic about it and at times can sound a bit conniving and evil, but he loves Dixie.   She is his best friend, his protector, and quite literally the greatest playmate he could have.

One of our early pictures.
One of our early pictures.

This past Friday I took Dixie in for her monthly grooming and her annual check up.   She was gone most of the day and my son pathetically stalked around the house looking for her.   It actually broke my heart when he would come up to me and shrug his shoulders while quietly belting out, “Diiixxxiiieee.”

 

Good Morning, Mes Amis!
Good Morning, Mes Amis!

 

That afternoon after picking her up, I took a look at her review sheet where the vet goes through every part of her check up and let’s us know how things went.   Being a super anal mommy, I have all of these from our first vet appointment for Dixie.   I’m always eager to get them to see how my girl is doing.   Unfortunately, I saw one thing that caught my attention and I voiced it to my husband.   We then did some research on the condition to find out that if it’s not treated then Dixie could die.At first I was angered at the vet for just putting this on a piece of paper and not talking to me about it, but then my emotions quickly moved to fear, worry, and sadness, especially as I watched Davey lay his head on Dixie’s back while watching television.

Peace offering
Peace offering

I’ve had my ups and downs with Dixie.   I’ve had days of sheer frustration with her, where I’ve told her that I would take off her collar, open the front door and let her be free.   Whoever picked her up would be her new family.   Don’t worry, I’ve never followed through with that threat.   Then I have days where I sit back and think about how protective she was of me when I was pregnant and how she would guard over Davey when we brought him home.   I thought about how much my son loves her, how  most mornings when he wakes up, her name is the first he says.   I thought about how wonderfully gentle she is with him, how she lets him hug her, stroke her back, and even rest his head on her.   Then I thought about how one day I’m going to have to tell my son that Dixie is no longer with us, and right now I’m just not prepared for that.

I don’t think he would really understand, but he would be cognizant of the fact that she was no longer around.   How would he handle it?   If it’s anything like last Friday when he looked like he would shed tears at any moment, I don’t think I could handle seeing that.

Reading to Dixie
Reading to Dixie

Today she is back at the vet having surgery and having a mass tested for cancer.   Let’s pray that she’ll be alright and that my son’s best friend is coming home tonight.   This is one milestone and life lesson that this mama isn’t ready to handle yet.

THE Choice

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Once again, we’re entering into the age old debate about balancing motherhood and a career.   This time it’s brought about by a book recently released by Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg who encourages women to “lean in”.   I’ve tried to stay out of the debate, as most mothers I encounter are pretty defensive about the subject of sacrificing their careers or sacrificing their family.   My views tend to be a bit passive-aggressive and cause friction and even anger, but I’m going to stick my big toe into this debate again and test out the waters.  

First off, I think a high-powered COO who earns $30 million a year (Sheryl Sandberg) or the youngest CEO ever (Marissa Mayer of Yahoo) are not really the voice of so many working women.   These women have the luxury of hiring landscapers, house cleaners, cooks, taking clothing to the dry cleaners daily, and in the case of Marissa Mayer, converting the office next to her’s into a nursery for her child.  Women like these make it seem easy to balance motherhood with a career.  

I made a choice when I became pregnant, that I wanted to be home with my child.   I made the choice that ME being home and raising him was more important than any career I could ever have.   Let me rephrase that, it’s more important than any career in the CORPORATE world.   Raising a child is a career all on it’s own.  

I know not every mother has the luxury of being at home.   Not every mother sees that as a luxury, either.   I saw and still see the opportunity to be home and raise my son as my greatest adventure ever.    But I didn’t immediately become a stay-at-home mom.   I took my son to daycare at six weeks of age and I worked until he was four months old.   And let me tell you, balancing motherhood and a career is not as easy as some of these high powered executives make it out to seem.  

I gave up a LOT in my life, a lot of me when I became a working mother.   My friends were not important to me.  I didn’t care to have a girls night out, I didn’t care to try to get my body back into shape.   All I cared about was the fact that I was up at five a.m. every morning, dropping Davey off at daycare at 7 a.m., arriving at work by 7:45 a.m., leaving work at 5 p.m., picking my son up from daycare and then maybe having about two hours with him.   TWO HOURS!   That’s two waking hours of no feeding, but just one on one time with my child.   A career in the corporate world?   Not worth the sacrifice for me.   I couldn’t have it all, and I didn’t want it all, at least not the “all” that society seems to push on working mothers. 

Balancing motherhood and a career is possible, but not without sacrifices.   It is not possible to maintain all parts of your life when you become a mother.   There will always be that one moment when you have to sacrifice your child’s first recital because you’re closing a multi-million dollar deal or closing a security threat to your network.    There will always be that one moment when you leave work on time to see Junior’s first soccer match, but in turn lose that contract you’ve worked on for the past year, that contract you’ve sacrificed other family time to attain.   There will always be conflict.   There will always be sacrifices, doubts, guilt, second thoughts, and regrets.   As with everything in life, a choice has to be made, but don’t be fooled by these women who claim to balance motherhood and career with the ease of flipping the page of a book.   Their lives are not indicative of the normal working mother’s life.

I’m not advocating for stay-at-home moms or working moms.   I’m advocating for doing what’s best for you and your family.    What’s best for me and my family is to be a stay-at-home mom.   Just remember, it won’t be easy whatever your choice may be.

Toddler Bed Phase 1

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I’ve become THAT mother!   You know which one I’m talking about.   It’s the one who seems to be unwilling to move into the next logical phase of her child’s growth and development.    Some may say I’m a hinderance.   I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’m not ready for Davey to graduate to this next level.

He’s made it clear that it’s time to move on.   He’s sent subtle and even not so subtle messages to me, but while I can see them and acknowledge them, it doesn’t make it any easier for me to hit the resolve that now is the time for Davey to get a toddler bed.

I know, I know, a lot of you are already there and have been there for quite some time.   A lot of you have made a big deal about your child(ren) progressing along and I’m guilty of doing the same, but in this instance I’m perfectly content with telling other mommies out there that Davey is still in his crib.   There, I’ve said it!   He is still in his crib and I don’t feel even slightly bad about it.   No, Sir, I don’t, but I will tell you what I do feel bad about and that’s the fact that moving him into a toddler bed makes my heart sick.   It makes me feel sad.

I love the fact that my sweet little penguin lies in bed and waits for me to come get him.   I like the fact that I can contain him in this one place.   I like the fact that keeping him in a crib makes him still feel like my little baby.   If I move him into a toddler bed, next thing will be a big boy bed and then school and then dating and driving and, oh my goodness, I just can’t keep travelling down this road!

My husband seems to be just as eager as I am to keep Davey in his crib, but for more logical reasons.   For example, he’s afraid that since Davey moves around so much in his crib, that he may fall out of the opening and either hurt himself or worse still, wake himself up (which means we’ll be awake).

Much like having a second baby, I should just rip this band-aid off as well.   I’m not going to ask any of you if I’m crazy, I’m well aware that I passed crazy a long time ago.   And I don’t care how many of you judge me for keeping him in a crib.   I’ll get there in my own time, I know I will, but I’m still curious….at what age did you start putting your child(ren) in a toddler bed and what was the reason you chose that age?

Don’t worry, each day I’m getting closer and closer to making this happen.   Just don’t push me, ok!?!?!?!

Words with Daddy

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I think I just fell more in love with my husband tonight.

My husband is a different man since he’s become a father.   He’s always had a good heart, very intelligent, and just an all around awesome guy.   Becoming a father seems to have magnified all of that with me and nights like tonight just make me love him more (if that was possible).

My husband’s job has him traveling a lot.    He left early this morning well before Davey was even up.   The only time he’s had with his son was last night when he put him to bed.   I spoke with him briefly this morning on his drive and put Davey on speaker phone so he could share some words with his daddy.   They were brief and to the point, but the love between my son and his father is evident.   My boy worships the ground Daddy walks on and I’m proud of that.

Tonight, my husband decided to Facetime me on my iPad which is perfect for Davey.   We sat in the recliner as my husband’s face popped up on the screen.

“Daddeeee!” Davey screamed (he’s moved past the da-da portion).

“Hi, Buddy,” my husband said back to him.

Davey looked up at me and then back at the screen as he saw his Daddy’s face in front of him.   He pointed at Daddy, waved at him, blew him kisses and even laughed.   It made me smile, but I suppose what made my night and made me fall more in love with my husband was the fact that he sat in a lonely hotel room and sang nursery rhymes to our son.  He read him a Dr. Seuss book, one that my husband knows by heart since he’s read it so many times to Davey.   He played “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” with Davey.   They did their ABC’s and even sang the song about two little red birds sitting on a hill.  It was the greatest ten minutes of my night and I know it was the same for Davey.

My husband talked about his day.   He asked Davey about his lunch and his dinner and inquired about the homemade strawberry muffins I’d made.   Davey did his best to communicate with the occasional nodding of the head, and his gobbledy gook of baby talk he has.   It was awesome and at one point my son tried to hug the iPad before waving good night to his daddy.   It melted my heart and made me smile as my husband did the same thing for our son.   They blew each other a kiss before we signed off, then I got a hug that I’m sure was meant for Daddy as Davey squeezed me tightly and then said silently and almost sadly into my ear, “Dadddeee.”

Hanging My Heart for Davey to See

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I’m on week three of the book “52 Things Kids Need From a Mom”.   This week’s reading is entitled “Kids Need Their Mom…To Hang Hearts of Love over their Lives.”   After reading, it had me wondering if I really do hang my heart for Davey to see?

Every morning, when I get Davey up, I tell him how much I love him.   I sing to him as I change his diaper and try to make some of the songs about how much I love him.

I’ve written him letters and even started a journal from the moment I found out I was pregnant with little things about my experiences, but mostly I’ve written him to tell him how much I love him.   I want him to know how much he’s meant to me, how thankful my husband and I are that he came into our lives.   He hears the words I love you continously throughout the day.   I’m not shy about saying it.   I congratulate him on little accomplishments.   I recognize him.   He’s the recipient of hugs and kisses on a daily and continuous basis.

I try to make sure my heart is ALWAYS worn on my sleeve where Davey is concerned, even when my feelings are hurt and I’m sad.   I think this generation has started down that path more with our children as opposed to that of my grandparent’s generation.   I think it’s important for our children to hear daily how much they’re loved, how important they are.   We seem to take it for granted too often that they know how we feel, so we just don’t say it.

I know my parents love me, but it took my c-section and my mother being out of town on business to actually hear her say the words “I love you”.   I haven’t heard those words in a really long time.

How often do you hang your heart for your child(ren)?   Have you done it today?   Make a conscious effort to make sure THEY know how much you love them.

Almost Time for the Razzle and Dazzle…

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I keep seeing posts on Facebook about Oscar parties going on tonight.   The Today Show had Martha Stewart on Friday showing how to set up a bunch of swag should you decide to host a viewing party.   Flipboard is full of stories about who is wearing what, and how long it takes the stars to get ready, and I see Kim Kardashian flaunting her baby bump.

All of this got me to thinking about my life pre-Davey.   It’s like a song that brings back a memory and transports you to a previous time, a time of happiness, a time of sorrow, a time of a different you, a more free you.   Did I go to Oscar parties?   Um, no.   I don’t know of anyone who had Oscar parties either.   Would I have gone to an Oscar party?  Perhaps a LOOONNNNGGG time ago when I was in my early to mid twenties.  But I have to admit this does have me thinking…perhaps next year I should throw a pre-Oscar viewing party with Davey.   How am I going to do that you ask?

Well, he’s much too young to really understand the movies and what goes on with them, so this year isn’t necessarily a good time, but next year is a whole different story…he’ll be almost 2 & 1/2.   So, here’s my plan.

We’re going to start viewing all of the movies appropriate for his age.   I’m even contemplating scheduling movie dates with some of his playgroup friends so that they can partake in the fun as well.   We’ll watch new movies and old movies throughout the year and then by next January we’ll vote on these movies.    The movie that wins for the year will be a part of our Oscar celebration.   We’ll view it again, hand out awards, eat popcorn and hor d’oevres and even have some sparkling grape juice to toast.   The kids can dress up however they want.   I will encourage the moms to let them pick out their clothes for the special occasion.   I’m over the top just thinking about it right now.

And just as quickly as some little thing reminds me of my previous life, I look at my son and the above idea pops into my head.   I just ran this idea by Davey as he sat in my lap.   This is the response I got:

“Yeah, Mama.”

I don’t know if he’s really into next year’s plans or if that’s the only sentence he can say right now.

As for tonight, my plans for the Oscars…I may steal a glance at it when my husband isn’t looking, but I’ll probably be taking advantage of my time with Davey being in bed to get my writing done.   Oh, how things have changed.

Happy Oscars Night, Everyone!

Oh, No, No, No….Not Me!

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Were the words that spilled from my husband’s mouth last night when I told him that I was going back to work and he was going to stay home with Davey.

What led me to encourage my husband to switch roles thereby eliciting a huge sense of fear from him?   I just don’t think Davey appreciates me anymore!   Ha!   I know, a lot of you out there think I’ve lost my mind and perhaps it’s much too soon to be taking this mentality, but it’s true.   My son pinches me, tries to bite me, smacks me and when it’s time for bed at night, I no longer get a hug from him.   Last night, when I tried to get a hug, he smacked me in the face!   The nerve!

After putting my son to bed, I asked my husband why he seemed to be so apprehensive about staying home with Davey.

“No way.   I just don’t think I have your patience.   I’m home with him for two or three hours at night and I feel like I’m losing my mind!”

Do you know how happy that made me?   Maybe I shouldn’t be ecstatic about my husband’s anxiety and frustration, but I am.

Here’s the thing, and a LOT of people who’ve known me can attest to this, I’ve never really had patience before.  When I was pregnant it was a hundred times worse.   I actually went a little nutso on one of my co-workers and from that point on, he was afraid to come near me.   He wouldn’t even tell me goodbye on my last day.   So, to have my husband tell me that he doesn’t have my patience has just made my day.

I’ve actually replayed last night’s conversation over and over in my head today.   It’s made me smile.  It’s made me happy.   It’s made me feel good because it’s like getting instant gratification.   My son has changed me and it has been for the better.   I can’t see it, although I can feel it sometimes, but apparently those around me can see the change.

And by the way, I’ve since changed my mind about going back to work, at least for today.   So far, Davey hasn’t underappreciated me and when I ask for a hug, I get one with a nice little stroke of my hair.  Stay-at-home mommydom is working again.

Discipline…How Do I Enforce Thee?

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When I was pregnant with Davey, I used to watch Super Nanny.   I don’t know why I was drawn to the show.   Perhaps it was to see what I may have in store for my future or maybe I just wanted to see how lazy parents were as compared to my parents.   I mean, let’s be serious, my brother and I didn’t climb on the kitchen table and start throwing food.   We had some sense and we knew that if we misbehaved there would be disciplinary action to follow.

After watching the show, I developed some theories and ideas on how I was going to enforce some rules within my house.   I knew what I could tolerate and what was definitely going to be out of bounds.   And truthfully, I didn’t think it would be as difficult as it is now boding.

I don’t know what to do with Davey.   He’s only 16 months old and while he’s not out of control, he’s still doing things that are definitely considered off limits.   If I try to discpline, then he laughs at me.   It’s all a game to him and I’m quickly losing patience.   I’m the one taking time outs for crying out loud and I’m not the rule breaker!

I grew up in a time when paddling your child was acceptable.   My brother and I turned out perfectly fine, no emotional scars on my end, but we quickly learned that if we didn’t want to get paddled, then perhaps it was best to NOT break the rules.   In today’s time, paddling your child is almost tantamount to child abuse (which I don’t agree with).

Davey has gotten a pop on his hand or even on his leg, but I’m not interested in taking that approach to discipline him.   I’m not judging it, but I don’t want to do it.   It doesn’t make me happy and I know that it didn’t make my dad happy either.   I used to think he got some sort of thrill out of paddling me and my brother, but now that I’m a parent, I know he didn’t like it.   It’s not fun when you have to discpline your own child.

I guess what I need is some advice.   What can I do?   Davey understands “no”.   He knows when he’s not supposed to be doing something, but he does it anyways.   It’s literally a game to him and I don’t know how to get it through his head that jumping from the coffee table to the hearth is not a game.   I can’t just sit back and wait for him to bust open his head and say “well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

I’ve tried to put him in a time out chair, but that doesn’t work.   I feel like some of the moms from Super Nanny and I’m frantically trying to recall what they did to get their toddlers to sit and learn (maybe it’s too soon for mine).   I’ve tried to ignore him, as I think sometimes he breaks the rules just for attention or to see what sort of behavior he can elicit from me.   I can’t ignore him though when he’s trying to climb onto the stove for the umpteenth time.

I know I’m not the only one to go through this.   I know there are others out there and I need you.  I’m imploring for you to help me.   Please save a least this one portion of my sanity.   What can I do?

My Mama’s Not So Secret Recipe

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Here’s the latest on my cooking expedition. Sometimes it’s hard to come up with ideas and make things that are inexpensive, healthy, and that allow you to use what’s already in your fridge or pantry. Thankfully, we buy a lot of chicken when it’s on sale (must be less than $1.99/lb), then we bring it home and freeze it. Chicken is easy and versatile and can be healthy as long as you’re not frying it.

Last night, I decided to do a homemade recipe that comes from my mother’s archives. She’s been making this chicken for as long as I can remember and it is literally the best barbeque chicken I’ve ever had. The sauce is the key and it’s made from scratch and super delicious! My husband loves this and gets super excited when he walks in the door and the aroma smacks him in the face.

The first thing you always want to do when cooking chicken is to cut off any sort of fat. We usually buy boneless chicken breasts as they’re much easier to work with, at least for a novice like me. Occasionally you might find a random bone, just look at the breast before cooking them.

Once that is done, I just quickly seasoned the chicken breasts with a little salt and pepper before dipping them into my homemade sauce. The recipe for the sauce is attached. As a side note, my husband is a bit disappointed that I’m posting this as he believes my mother’s sauce is some age old secret recipe. I’ve conferred with her on this matter and she’s unaware of it being a secret since every woman in her family over the years has used this exact same sauce.

BBQ Chicken

The chicken has to bake for an hour and a half total, so that gives me a little bit of downtime and the opportunity to determine what sort of side dishes to make. Last night, I decided I would roast a butternut squash and then just cook some green beans. I actually went easy on the beans and just opened a can of Green Giant (I had coupons and the cans were on sale, so I got a steal at 30 cents a can and stocked up on them like I did with the chicken).
There’s really not a recipe for the butternut squash, it’s all just seasoning to taste. I like to cut the squash down the middle long ways and then spoon out all the seeds. Next I peel the squash and then start slicing and dicing. Now that I’ve learned the technique to NOT drawing blood while using a knife, I LOVE to dice.

Butternut Squash
Butternut Squash

Once you have little cubes, I put them all in a bowl, salt and pepper them, pour some olive oil over the top and then add in some crushed rosemary. I give them a quick toss before putting them on a greased cookie sheet and then put them in the oven at 300 degrees for 45 minutes. I flip them over midways through cooking and then just let them cook along with the chicken. For the next 45 minutes, I’m playing with my son.

Here’s the turnout for last night’s dinner:

Ah...dinner!
Ah…dinner!

It’s all a huge hit in my house, except for the beans. I can’t seem to get Davey to eat them unless I sneak them in with a macaroni noodle at some point!

My husband is travelling this week, so Davey and I will be on our own with dinners. Guess it’ll be frozen pizzas and hamburger helper!