How I Met Your Father

Not so long ago, the Mister looked like a young version of The Dude and I was rocking Thundercats hair. 

It was during this fashionable phase that we found each other, which will likely embarrass poor Roo to no end when she's a teenager. Here is the unabridged version.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Danielle

I Miss Swearing

I knew that this whole being the mama gig would entail some sacrifices.  

(Roo signing hat while I'm thinking WTF (What The Fandango) about the playground equipment.)

Booze? Curtailed. 

Drugs? (I’m talking decongestants people, get your mind out of the gutter.) Not while breast feeding. 

Rock and roll? Definitely at a lower volume than ever before. 

Sex? Hey there, this is a family blog! 

It is the censoring that's getting me. 

When I was a teacher, I had all kinds of creative euphemisms for a good old fashioned swear word.  I told my students that swearing was just an lazy way of communicating. That they were more articulate than swear words made them. 

I was lying through my teeth.

There is nothing quite like a good swear word. It's juicy and ripe and just lovely in its simplicity. 

It makes a stubbed toe feel better. A tailgater lose his power. It makes that little spinning wheel on the computer turn faster. It gives emphasis in a way that "quotes" or italics or bold or ALL CAPS just can’t muster.

Pistols and dolphins.

Cheese and rice.

Eff.

Doodles.

Bleeder.

Such......sorry......alternatives. 

Now, when Roo goes to sleep and the Mister and I have our Hulu Plus bonding time, I swear.

I swear like a sailor. I swear like a Tarantino movie. I swear with gusto, panache, and a kind of enthusiasm that makes me want to find out the etymology of my favorites and make infographics about them. 

I swear more in the hour and a half before I go to bed than I think I did the year and a half before she was born. 

Like the terrible twos, I’m sure this will pass. In the meantime, I need some new non-swear words--got any to share?

Cheese and rice,

Danielle

A Tipsy Tuesday/ Nom Nom Mom Mashup

Whenever I make one of Thomas Keller's recipes, it feels like I dice and sauté about 2 pounds of vegetables to 'season' the pan for an omelet. 

Thomas would not approve of the following recipe/tip. 

It Ain't Compost Stock

Onion ends, mostly dried out garlic, fresh herbs loosing their freshness, leek tops, and carrot butts, oh my! All of those things that you would usually toss but have a good flavor go into a freezer bag until it is full.

If you're a carnivore, throw in the carcass from a roasted chicken as well.

(Once, I decided to be extra brilliant and make a vegetarian stock with red cabbage so I could tell without labels. It just turned all of the food pink--bad move.)

Then, before bed one night, put the whole frozen mess into a crock pot and cover it with water.

Turn on low.

Wake up to the smell of fresh stock and strain.

This makes lovely, delicious, delicate stock without all of the sodium and legally allowed amount of something called 'insect filth'.

So, a non-Thomas approved, but virtuous stock that takes minimal effort.

 Danielle

Guest Blogger: Lavender Nannerings

Note from Danielle: I like experts. When I need fashion advice, I call my sister. When I need medical advice, I call my doctor. And when it comes to parenting, I check the blogs.

One such blog is Lavender Nannerings run by Sarah Jane Robertson. (My favorite post: Mouse! Tiger mom, lentil soup, Fire!)

Right now, discipline is on my mind with Roo. This is what she had to share:

We Skipped the Terrible Twos

Earlier this week my darling daughter bloodied her twin brother’s nose by kicking him smack in the face. I was sitting at my desk two feet away when this happened. 

The situation: he had been tickling her and as she has been taught, she used her words and asked him to stop.

He did not listen to her and kept going.

I was not paying enough attention and Blamo! She kicked him in the face as she yelled her words, “STOP tickling me!”

Blood and screaming ensued. 

Now, the truly painful admission, I taught preschool for 12 years. I’ve worked in early intervention programs like Head Start and Early Head Start. I’ve taught parenting classes. I have a master’s degree in counseling and have done my fair share of family therapy sessions. I have spent my entire career working with other people’s children, some of them, extraordinarily difficult children. At the ripe old age of 38, I had my twins, mostly sweet and kind children.

Still, entirely different ball game.  

Since their birth I have heard things come out of my mouth and have had to look around to see what sort of monster said them. Not often, but sometimes, I unleash a whopper.

One of my best parenting moments, telling my son “If you can’t follow the rules in this house maybe it’s time for you to find a new family to live with.”

Yep, said that to my precious little boy.

I like to think I am not alone in my mistake laden parenting. I really do try my best as a parent. Finding effective discipline is hard, and let’s face it, kids wear us down. Today I asked seven moms at gymnastics class what works for them when discipline is necessary.

The first response: “What works, or what we do?”

One mom has a “naughty corner,” another, a time-out chair. The third mom called her space, “a think spot.” The rest of the moms also admitted to having some sort of time-out space.

When I was teaching preschool, we used time outs in the form of “let’s take a break and cool down.”  But I didn’t send them off to sit alone. I would sit down with the frustrated/angry/sad/hungry/ overly tired child and we would talk about what was bothering him or her. From there it was time to “make a plan” and figure out what could be done to remedy the situation.

This worked really well in a preschool setting but it hasn’t always worked at home with my own kids. 

One thing all the moms agreed upon, what works at one point might not work the next time and “the game constantly changes.”

And it does. After the kicking incident we sat down as a family and made up some “family rules.”

Number one, using positive language, “We use gentle touches.” In total we have five rules, for now.

Tomorrow, who knows?

Sarah Jane Robertson

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You can read more of Sarah Jane's work at Lavender Nannerings.

Ponchos are the New Black

After realizing that half of the food in our disaster kit was rotten, I decided it was time to bring in the expert. 

David Shannon from the Red Cross came shopping with me to make sure we're ready for the next Nisqually, epidemic, or house fire. 

A checklist is here and a calendar breaking down the shopping into weeks is here.

Or if you want to skip the shopping, check out the Red Cross for ready-to-go kits. 

So many options- no excuse not to be ready:)

Danielle