Mealtime

If you have kids under 6, mealtime is quite the hot topic. It can be SO fun (pizza, ice cream, pancakes with sprinkles!!) and SO not. As our boys grow, the ground rules for helping it stay fun are taking shape. Here are a few that have gotten us this far...

1) If you're in the kitchen while I'm cooking, you can sit in a seat. i.e. I've decided not to cook single-handed.
2) You eat what we eat. That usually means breakfast (cereal or oatmeal) and lunch (sandwiches & fruit) are pretty easy. Dinner (casserole or meat with vege/fruit) is the challenge.
3) If you're hungry enough, you'll eat it. I've known several children who spent years with meager food options, and they will eat anything. I'm confident my kids' pickiness is mostly attitude fostered by overabundance.
4) What you see is what you get. Don't hold out for something better. All the elements of the meal are on your plate from the start.
5) You don't get more of anything unless you've eaten everything. I do tend to give them very little of what I know they won't like (i.e. veges). But the rule still helps avoid bargaining.
6) Mealtime is a pleasant time. If you can't contribute to that pleasantness, you can sit in time-out until you can. ("No whining" falls under this umbrella.)
7) We eat dinner together, then the kitchen's closed. I even turn out the lights to emphasize this point. If you didn't eat your dinner, breakfast is gonna taste great!

A couple related notes:
a) I've found that toddlers (at least by 18ms) surprise me with how much they can eat, feed themselves, and follow these rules.
b) The above still apply but with more grace when we're eating somewhere else (esp #5).

A friend of mine whose kids are a little older sent me these gems:

Dinner Rules
1. No getting up from the table until you are excused.
2. In order to get seconds of anything you have to try everything.
3. No loud singing at the table. (You would be surprised what a common problem this was!)

We would go over the rules before we sat down to eat each night using a question and answer format, so the kids were involved:
* What are we here to do? A: Eat
* Are we going to play with our food? No
* Is it okay to sing loudly at the table? No
* Do we ask nicely for seconds/food to be passed? Yes
etc. - whatever needed to be repeated. We still do this at least once a week.

After they seemed to have a handle on those rules, we added that they were not allowed to start eating until everyone was seated at the table. We use saying grace as the cue that eating can begin. (pic from the RenFest)

These really are dinner basics, but we hadn't ever been very deliberate about teaching them before. I guess we thought they would grow into it, but it turned out they needed to be taught. Good Luck! I hope this helps!! It is hard to break the parental habit of bargaining over dinner.

Thanks, Lois!

Clingy

Some words come with seasons. I may never have used the word "clingy" in my first 30 years of life, but it has become a staple since the birth of my second child.

Aaron loves to be held, cuddled, and rocked - especially by his mama. If I am visible, he only has eyes for me. And if I refuse to pick him up (because, for example, I'm pulling hot pans out of the oven), despair quickly ensues.

Aaron is the kind of clingy (yes, it has kinds) that is loving and adorable and pitiful. The way he wraps his legs around my waist, grips my shirt with his left fist, curls his right hand under his chest, lays his head against my collar bone and brushes my chin with his golden red hair is PRECIOUS. Precious.

If I squat to reach something on the floor, he will wriggle onto my knee. If he senses an impending separation from me, he sticks out his lower lip, puckers his forehead, and shakes his chin as he considers whether to cry. He melts my heart. And he knows it.

Thankfully, he's not the kind of clingy that has a good memory and lots of perseverance (i.e. true "separation anxiety"). He's the "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" kind that's perfectly happy with someone else once I'm gone. This is a very, very good thing for both of us. But it only works if there's another caregiver available - about 20% of the time.

Which leaves 80% of his waking hours with me. And physical touch is not my love language. I start to feel claustrophobic. Not to mention it's difficult to make dinner, grocery shop, or run with an animated 25lb bundle putting my right hand out of commission.

So I try to strike a balance - soaking up these few years when I have a child who loves on me, without crippling either of us for life.

Here are a few tricks I've learned in the process:

1. When he's most needy, just sit and hold him in a very boring position until he gets tired of it and gets down. He's much more likely to play on his own after he chooses to get down than if I put him down before he's ready. I also enjoy it more because I'm focused on it rather than seeing it as a hindrance.

2. When I really need to shop or make dinner, contain him nearby (strapped in the high chair or grocery cart). If he's at my level and nearby, he may settle down.

3. Don't forget to check the basics: Is he hot, dirty, thirsty, hungry, or tired? Sometimes I still overlook one of these obvious causes for clinginess only to kick myself later.

4. When he's driving me up the wall, check his temperature. He's probably sick or teething and needs the extra care for a reason.

I know that someday I'll look back and crave his sweet little-boy cuddles, so I do cherish them now. But I also know that someday I will have forgotten how draining it can be to have someone artificially dependent on you. He doesn't need to be held as much as he wants to be held. He is capable of doing more than he claims. And it is my job to teach him confidence and independence.

So if you have a child who is constantly leaning on you, know that there are moments when I can relate. There are moments when you don't need to be reminded to just enjoy it. And there are moments (like today) when you see progress. When he cheerfully plays on his own. When he asks someone else to hold him. When he just visits your lap for reassurance. And those are good moments, too.

One Dozen

I never thought I'd get to be married to Josh for twelve years. It sounds so pessimistic to me now, but I remember that when we were dating, I always thought it was too good to be true - something awful would happen to get in the way. No one gets that lucky.

I'm so glad to be wrong and right at the same time. I was wrong that something awful would happen. Right that it's too good to be probable. Thank God He doesn't care about probable.

So we got to celebrate our first dozen years of marriage last weekend at the Conrad Hotel in downtown Indianapolis with seamless service, the perfect location, and no kids.

A few highlights:
-- heated pool and hot tub to soothe our sore muscles
-- bathrobes, double-headed shower, and the perfect reading lights
-- take-out Bucca di Beppo & Invictus the night before our run
-- indoor access to Circle Center Mall & restaurants
-- dinner at Palomino (rich chocolate tiramasu. mm.)
-- eating calamari outside at the hotel restaurant
-- watching the Kentucky Derby
-- knowing our boys were having a blast and sleeping well at Maw-maw and Papa's
-- walking out our front door to the mini-marathon (which starts in front of it)

It was like we entered an alternate reality for 48 hours. I LOVE my life, I LOVE spending my days with my boys, and I LOVE living in Nashville/Franklin. I also LOVED getting away with my husband for a beautiful weekend of fun, romance, and relaxation. Thank you, sweetie. I love you.

On the Run

I've never considered myself an athlete. As a kid, I played every sport just long enough to be sure I had no latent Olympic talent. In college, the Navy gave me a new love for "pt" (physical training), but along with it came shin splints and the fear that if I ever tried to run long, I'd lose running altogether.

Which is how I justified watching Josh run the Indianapolis half marathon year after year after year...until this year. For the first time in four years, I wasn't pregnant or nursing, and I was eager to get back in shape.

Still, running 2-4 times a week, averaging 10-20 miles per week, for 12 weeks?

It was hard at first. The treadmill was hot, boring, and depressing. The double jogger was...heavy. And I'm not one to rise and run before Josh leaves at 7am. How was I ever going to do it?

God must've known I needed help, 'cause he provided a friend to swap childcare every Wednesday, a supportive husband to babysit Sat/Sun, and a great spring for running. My regimen didn't meet the Hal Higdon specs, but suddenly I had a routine where I could run 2-3 times each week outside and alone.

And the further I went, the easier--and more fun--it got. I got scared by "runners' knee" early on, but it was easily fixed. My childcare swap ended 2 weeks before the race, but by then, pushing the double jogger was so much easier. I began collecting my favorite podcasts to listen as I ran (Tim Keller, Brooks & Shields, Motley Fool, Splendid Table, and Freakonomics). And of course, Josh was cheering me on the whole time (usually in spirit).

Saturday it was 55 degrees and overcast; perfect for a run. It sprinkled from miles 7-12 and then the sun came out as we crossed the finish line. I'm not making that up. Josh stayed with me the entire time, I was able to run throughout (and even sprint the last mile), and my body is still in one piece. It felt GREAT. Even the hunger afterward made Steak & Shake taste better than ever. Here are a few notable moments from the race:

-- Bystander's sign reading "Almost There!" at mile 1.
-- Waiting 10 minutes(!!) for a port-a-potty at mile 4.
-- Passing Gumby & his horse, firefighters, and cops, all in full gear for 13.1 miles.
-- Cheerleaders on the Speedway dressed as pirates, beach bums, and undersea fish.
-- Reading shirt-backs that read "Toenails are for sissies" or "I thought they said 'rum.'"
-- Running with a dear friend and hearing her family call out at mile 12.
-- Finishing and not feeling like I'm about to die. :)

So now, at 33, I feel like an athlete. Not competitive. But capable. I've been surprised to find that the long runs are a fun event in themselves, plus they make food taste better, sleep feel better, and bathing heavenly. And they make short runs easy. So I hope to continue. My biggest current obstacle? It's already 90 degrees outside. Looks like I need to make friends with my treadmill after all.