whole parenting
I recently took stock in all that I’ve written on the blog over the past 3.5 years to see if there was good material for a book. I mean, the very original idea that a mommy blogger who’s a crunchy Catholic could schmoosh her posts into a book. Well, 170 pages of posts that generally fall under “parenting” had me convinced I am the next behavioral expert. Until I started re-reading it all. Yes, there are a few gems in there, but . . . big boy battles, 2 under 2, 3 under 5, taming your toddler’s tantrums, feeling powerless with your preschooler, power parenting: why force & fear don’t work, helping emotional boy find his voice & ears, clearly I’m just another mom with limited knowledge, time, energy, and yet unlimited opinions. Book may have to take a different form. But I digress. Right now we’re dealing with the fine line between threats and explained consequences with our budding four year old boy. Mr. SuperPants SuperBoy. He’s so sweet until he’s terrible. He loves to take directions until he doesn’t. He is never cross until he’s crossed. You know how it is. I’ve found a few things work and don’t work with his temperament. His sister’s already shaping up to be a completely different person (shocker!) with acute needs of her own. I share not because I’m an expert but because maybe your child is similarly situated and what is working for us might work for you. Or might…
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Shhhh . . . POLARN O. PYRET. Did your heart just skip a beat? This store is the Swedish clothing store for kids. Especially outdoor wear. I mean, you know how the Swedish have long recess times outside even in the winter? This store is why. It’s outdoor wear heaven. And when you live in the land of the frozen tundra, you need gear. GEAR. gear. This store in the Galleria Shopping Center in Edina is their only location in the Midwest. I think they thought we’d get it. And we do. I contacted them after a long-time crush on their wool numbers and organic cottons, and that signature stripe you just can’t deny love for, and was happily surprised to hear back. They kindly offered for my brood to come and courtesy shop and then share the goods with my readers. Low. Down. I want everything in their store!!!!! It went like this: And eventually he got lost in the train set–what a clever thing to have in your store! Keeps the kids happy while parents peruse the lovely offerings. And Diane & I got to chat. She gave me a very thorough and very helpful tour of the store, with an emphasis on kids’ outwear. Because, #seeabove, it’s autumn and you know what that means. The stripes! the stripes! (Don’t worry–scroll to the bottom & you can win one of your own!) Organic cotton. Oh, yes, please! SweetPea wanted the socks. She wanted all the socks. It was…
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I have written so many posts on sleep. Why? Because it’s what we all dream about as moms, right? Dream // dread // fear // desiresodeeply. Sleep sampler // infant -12 months Toddler sleep & big boy wakes Ousting the co-sleeper (sorta) Why co-sleep? Toddler sleep night trouble 12 steps to recovering your humanity when you’re a wreck When to stop night nursing When your infant screams and screams and you do too to name a few. Generally, we’re in the attachment parenting group. We follow Dr. Sears on most things. We don’t do cry it out with babies. Once our kiddos hit 12 months, we night wean and gently work on letting them cry for a few minutes alone before comforting them, then letting them cry a little again. You’re thinking: SHE’S CRAZY. Combined with: WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS??? And I can only laugh and agree I’m crazy. And yet, somehow, it has worked so far for our family. My big kids screamfightplay if I’m nursing the baby down for his nap. They don’t get screen time because I’m (crazy) and (not nice) not a huge fan. They learn to deal with each other and are old enough to be left unsupervised a room away from me for a little while. They learn to negotiate, freak out, and come and bother me 53 times and be told again and again to work it out. I follow the same basic pattern with my babies for sleep that doesn’t involve sleep training.…
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Maybe your children are perfect. Maybe they never complain on walks that they are in a constant state of 1) hunger. 2) thirst. 3) needing to go pootttttttyyyyy. or possibly even 4) needing to sit in the stroller seat their sibling is sitting in. Well my little angels like to do all of the above it. All of it. Even wanting to have the baby put in the stroller so I can carry SweetPea. She adores her brother, but also adores getting away from her older brother so she can do something special. And yes, it was 46 degrees out when I took these pictures. Don’t say the kids are overdressed. One of our constant parenting differences. The beverages have gotten out of control. They both need their own special water bottles. And then they both want them down in the belly of the stroller because their hands are too full with leaves? gripes? hardened hearts & fists? Whatever it is, they want to relocate their drinks all the flipping time. And BabyLoves is big. And heavy. And my knee joints aren’t what they were. Enter Christie and her kiddo collection line. She made this really smart stroller attachment and was kind enough to send me one. It has TWO beverage holders, insulated, naturally, and a magnet sealed compartment in between. iPhone? check. keys? check. SweetPea’s random paraphernalia that she’s tired of clutching and chucking. check. And slotted pockets on the outside. Because Christie is a mom and knows you gotta…
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Dear fellow mother, You are not defined by your children. Not the number of them. Not the age gap between them. Not their clothing choices. Not the state of their hygiene. Not the contents of their bowl in the morning. Not by how messy their hair is and how they rip out their pony tail holders all the time. You are not defined by your child’s naughty almost humorous meltdown in front of your entire group of older adult guests at a fundraiser. You are not defined by your baby’s eczema on his face that looked as if you’ve never lotioned him up before. You are not defined by your daughter’s low-weight gain, or petite status that looks as if you’re not feeding her enough. You are not defined by your son’s early speech, his quick ability with words, his apparent cleverness that also translates to terrible difficulty with not getting his way (long way to say tantrums). Nor are you defined by your baby’s big size and early movement, Mr. Plank, Mr. Pushup at 4 months, Mr. Scoot Around the Room on his Tummy. You are not defined by your once fashionable eye glasses that are bent and greased out of proportion. You are not defined by your “ironing pile” as in “grab it and quickly iron it before you need it pile” that is shuttered behind a closet door. You are not defined by your garden that never produced herbs this year, or its poorly produced tomatoes. You are…
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I posted on Facebook today that a big part of why I’m doing this healthy living bundle sale is because I want to empower you. “Empower.” Such an annoying buzz word. Along with “genuine” and “authentic” and “relatable.” I was texting about the way these words are like scraping a fork on a plate for both of us. Ha! Anyway. Back to business. It’s the last few hours for this healthy living bundle I’ve been talking about. The link to buy is here. Or this fancy button: Empower. I sobbed the other day in the car after leaving the coop. (natural foods coop.) I had bought organic crackers again!!! I hadn’t yet made my own!!!! Didn’t I pin those recipes? Couldn’t I save my family the money and make the most wholesome delicious crackers in the world? What kind of natural mother was I??? WAAAAAAAAAA —–reality check! I’m a great mom. And making my own crackers isn’t going to change that. After laughing about this with my sisters and a few girlfriends, I could exhale. I don’t have to do everything from scratch. I don’t have to make crackers. Whew.———— I grew up with a loving mother and father who both worked hard to provide food, shelter in a gorgeous house, plenty of hand-me down clothing, first rate education, amazing trips around the world, and siblings, built in frenemies. But the food. My mother is a baker, not a cook, and it was the 80’s. Food was kinda like science…
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