I hear so many parents (and sadly, grandparents) refer to two year olds as 'the terrible twos' ... oh, please! I love two years olds ... in fact, from eighteen months to about three would be one of my most favorite times in child's life! When I tried to figure out just what it was adults did not like about this marvelous age, I was stumped. So, I began to ask parents of those dreaded munchkins to see just what it was they didn't like.
Remember, I was the owner/operator of a family home day care and at the time I had four who fell into that age group. I was intrigued and enchanted by their perspective on the world around them. So inquisitive and such an imagination! Then it dawned on me as I listened to a couple parents talk about my beloved age. They don't listen. They are defiant. They are argumentative. YES!! They are and I love it! It's not all about you, parents! We want our children to challenge authority. We want them to demand answers to questions. We want them to talk to us! So, here's the deal .... if you are the parent/grandparent of a two year old ... enjoy it. Listen to them. Take the time to explain, set limits (and be prepared to explain your reason), and tell them your expectations (and expect them to tell you their expectations!) and stop trying to control their every thought. Embrace their thoughts and ideas. Be prepared for them to catch you in an error or even a lie ... own it ... love that they're so smart and embrace every moment. Besides ... if you can't embrace the individuality of your toddler, what will you do with them as a teenager? Just sayin'.
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I was listening to three people talking the other day and was saddened by their discussion. I planned to say something to them but decided I’d be wasting my time … and theirs.
The discussion was centered around one of the women, about how hard it was for her to prepare meals for their family. Her children’s pediatrician informed her she has some things to watch out for in her children’s diet, since her children (and she) are morbidly obese… things like fat, sugar, salt, blah, blah, blah. Sad I thought … as I recalled her earlier conversation … she had time for a weekly pedicure, happy hour drinks and eating out with friends three times a week (!!), a bowling league and she worked full-time. When did tending to our own primal needs and those of our children become secondary to personal frivolities? Granted I’m no spring chicken, but I can’t recall ever not feeding my children the best and healthiest foods I could afford. Rarely did a plate find itself in front of my children that didn’t have a vegetable and/or fruit. I always tried to eat and provide balanced and healthy meals. That’s what my mother did and my grandmother and my great-grandmother. I watched the women in my family create wonderful food and watched them laugh and enjoy themselves and those around them every time. I remember the wonderful smells finding their way through the house and vowed my home would provide the same happy memories when I had children. Granted the foods weren’t always heart healthy but we all learn as we go along, don’t we? While I am still using my ancestor’s recipes I have updated them to make them more heart healthy. It’s just what I do … I’m not everybody. Well enough whining about that! There must be a reason it is so. But I asked myself, how can I help? What can I do to help people provide the best they can for their families? I thought about several options but dismissed them all because they’ve all been done before. When I need information I hit the Internet or bookstore or my local library until I have what I need to succeed. Perhaps someone who needs help managing their family’s meals will happen on this blog and take whatever information will help them. In the meantime, here are a few ideas for those of you have already found this blog … a few ideas to make preparing old favorites a new way, easy ways to provide healthy choices for your family, and if you have an idea you’d like to share, just leave a comment. Breakfast is easier than you think just look the nutritional analysis on the side of the box ,,, more than 5 grams of sugar? Pass. Check the fiber? Less than 1 gram? Pass. Check the ingredients … look for whole grain something as the first ingredient. Be sure sugars (yeah, there are many types of sugar - check a previous blog called “The ‘-ose’ no-nos” and you’ll read all about the ways manufacturers slip sweeteners into their products. Whole wheat toast with natural peanut butter or almond butter and a tiny drizzle of honey or agave nectar (a sweetener from a plant rather than a bee). A scrambled egg and whole wheat toast. Spray a little bit of butter-flavored cooking spray in the pan and reduce the fat considerably. Skip the butter on the toast and spread a little whole fruit jam on instead. Oatmeal is a breeze to whip up, as well, so you can skip the convenient oatmeal. For one serving put ⅓ cup of any non-instant oatmeal with a cup of water in a 1-quart microwave safe bowl, and toss in some diced apple or peaches and/or dried cranberries or raisins and you have a luscious bowl of healthy oatmeal in front of you in less than a minute and your kids can enjoy it without a lot of added sugar though you may have to add sugar for a little bit reducing it each time until your kids get used to actually tasting oatmeal! Well, I'm likely to hurt someone's feeling with this post, so I'll start by saying ... if you're happy go for it and disregard this post. For those of you who agree that putting these humungous bows/head bands on bald babies is ugly I'll be preaching to the choir.
I see more and more baby girls with hideous, oversized bows on their bald heads and it looks awful. Personally, I much prefer the natural look with a lovely dress or blouse or t-shirt that show the world I have a girl. However, on that note, when my daughter, Sarah, was a baby - and long before these ghastly bows were available - I dressed her in the most adorable girly dresses only to have some moron ask, "What's HIS name?" I'd calmly reply, "Sarah." The moron's response, "That's a funny name for a boy." Sigh. Now, I'm sure no mother whose daughter is sporting one of those bows is faced with the problem I encountered ... but honestly, I'd prefer having to tell someone my child is a girl than have her look like a Christmas package gone wrong. OK, I'm finished here ... hate me if you must ... but remember, it's YOUR child ... and MY opinion. It has been said I'm crazy for letting my grandchildren have glitter. People have told me there is no way they'd let anyone have glitter in their house because they find glitter for months to come. I have a different opinion ...
Once the Christmas ornaments were painted - yes, even my three year-old granddaughter, Cady, was allowed to paint and once all was painted, the glitter was made available ... to all. A sprinkle here, a sprinkle there ... oops ... glitter on the table ... double oops ... glitter on the floor. I assured the grandchildren all was OK and a little glitter spill was no biggie. The smile on their faces melted my heart ... by the time they were finished making their ornaments from the tops of bean cans I had saved, they had found a special place for cotton balls, glitter, popsicle sticks, pictures from old Christmas cards and magazines, and plenty of acrylic paint. They had a blast. Then, before they were allowed to play the Wii, we had clean up time. Thank goodness for my granddaughter, Claire, who is thirteen and my grandson, Aidan who is almost eight ... they were real troopers and did a wonderful job organizing all the craft supplies. They've all gone home now ... and as I dust mopped the dining room floor, I smiled ... moving the dust mop from one side to the other, the glitter stayed put. I told my husband we'd have to vacuum and damp mop tomorrow to get all the glitter up. He agreed. As I straightened up the rest of the house, every room was glittery ... the playroom, the bathroom faucet handles, doorknobs, chairs, and even our German Shepherd sported some glitter on her ear. It warmed my heart ... such a small price to pay for a grandchild's smile. Black Friday separates the boys from the men ... the girls from the women ... as I watch the craziness begin ... shortly after sharing thanks for all we have with a delicious meal, family, friends ... the lines begin to form to do what? Yes, get more stuff. And just what is all this 'stuff' for anyway? As I watch the ads on television, the radio, flashing across my computer, magazines, newspapers (ah, yeah ... did you receive a Thursday newspaper? I picked mine off the lawn - it wouldn't even fit in my newspaper box! - I chalked it up to my exercise for the day), flyers, and everywhere I turned taunt me to 'buy this, buy that.' I have to ask myself, "What in the hell is all the fuss? OK, it's good for the economy, but is it good for our wallets and budgets?" Then I realized many people 'worry' about paying it all back later ... really? I've got news ... much of what you haven't paid for yet will be lost, broken, or forgotten. Is it really worth it? I think not and that's where the separation begins.
There are those who step back and make thoughtful purchases and those who just buy. I ask each of you ... take a moment and think about what you really intend to do and what makes you do it. I remember one year after a big move right around Christmas time when I gave a family member (and many others) a Mason jar with all the ingredients for spice cookies with a recipe attached - one friend (a neighbor) made the cookies the next day and invited us to her home for cookies and tea) but a family member actually complained. Now how's that for Christmas spirit ... this person was not only not gracious, she was downright bitchy about it. Fine, I said ... I be happy to keep it and you can have your candle back. Geez. Later I found out they were unable to pay their light bill and called ME to help them. Really? Ah, no. That same person - some months later - said she needed help paying their mortgage. We were in a pretty good spot and I handed her a check for $100 ... my husband asked me about it when he was balancing our checkbook and that check hadn't cleared. I called her to see why she hadn't cashed the check and was informed she had lost it. Then she asked for a replacement check. Ah, no. Sorry. Stupid people make me nuts ... but as my mother says, '... it must be her first time here.' When did toddlers take over the world? My toddlers worked for me ... it was never the other way around! I didn't negotiate. I didn't cut any deals. And I certainly was never told what to do or when to do it. I was the grown-up.
Perhaps the problem stems from 'away-from-home' mothers who feel guilty leaving their children with others. As a former family home day care provider (for seven years) I know only too well how difficult it can be to leave your children behind. I opted to take a different route. I had a husband (yeah, that would be husband #1) who wasn't exactly successful - at least not in what today's world deems successful and I refused to work outside the home until our children were in school. So, we learned to live within our means which meant going without a good bit ... without what? I hear you ask ... vacations, a second car or even a new one, campers, designer clothing, etc. What we did have is freshly baked breads, homemade soups, story time and craft time, plenty of play time ... we built forts out of couch cushions and played hide n' seek, we took long walks gathering treasures to make door wreaths, centerpieces, and crafts. We made our own Christmas cards and birthday cards, we wrote thank you notes and walked to the library. We visited neighbors, especially those who were unable to get out much, and we volunteered in our community. Today as I look around, I see whiny, demanding kids tugging at parents begging for attention. I see them getting pushed aside while that parents either chats with a friend or talks on a cell phone (which is a whole new rant) ... today's children seem to have the upper hand in today's family ... now, before you click the CONTACT ME button and tell me how wonderful you and your family are, if this does not apply to you, don't own it. There are wonderful families out there and wonderful kids - I even know a few - and I'm thrilled if you are one of those families. But, let's not stop there ... share your talents with those less fortunate or less able. Our future depends on it ... and it takes a village. To continue my rant of yesterday ... the benefits of yoga ... for me are simple and are summed up rather nicely on many websites. Of course, you can find just about anything, whether pro or con ... so you make your own decision.
OK, I'm finished except to say thank you to those who think yoga is something I need to fear ... you can put your concerns to rest, and not that I need to respond to your fears at all, I will say this to all those naysayers out there ... those who live in fear ... I can assure you ... yoga, for me, is a simple and delightful way to stay fit, clear my mind, and enjoy time with myself - it's how I stay grounded. I refuse to live in fear of anything and no one will take me down that path. Live and let live ... it is what it is ... be and let be ... I am what I am. Recently I posted some pictures of My Peaceful Place ... and was rather disturbed by an email my husband received warning us ... OK, me of the evils of my yoga practice. The person a sent link for a New York Times article on the dangers of yoga, to which I could only ask, "Aren't all activites dangerous if done either before one is ready for it or done incorrectly?" Of course. Next.
The writer also sited the .. here comes the ohhhh, scary stuff ... spiritual dangers. Really ... wow. Perhaps this person is so deep in their own religion that they see danger whenever someone does something of which they are not familiar. Me? Oh, I research ... I learn ... I survive ... lookie here ... I'm still here ... no devil has whisked me away into the place where naughty yogis land. Good grief. Get real. What is it that sends some Christians (or anyone, for that matter) into terror mode when yoga is mentioned? Is Eastern style of meditation so scary that people feel warranted to warn other of the dangers? The person who elicited this warning cited another website, and book, about an ill-fated guru ...a wayward child perhaps ... don't we all have one of those in our family closet! The book cited, Death of a Guru: A Remarkable True Story of one Man's Search for Truth is just that ... ONE MAN'S SEARCH FOR THE TRUTH. This is HIS life, HIS experience. Period. For the record, my yoga practice is simply a time where I can focus on my breathing to clear my head of CRAP I hear all day long. It's a peaceful time ... it's not satanic, or demonic, or evil. It's just BREATHING. Good grief. And, so far as my yoga positions ... well, let's start with my reason for doing yoga ... I enjoy it. It's relaxing. It keeps these ol' muscles flexible. Maybe it's because I'm in my sixties ... or maybe I'm right, but have you noticed the volume of chatter going on at the stores right now? Not only is there the incessant chatter of the people - but that doesn't really bother me unless they're arguing at which point I'm likely to ask them to excuse themselves - but the canned music, intercom announcements of specials, commercials being blasted on overhead monitors, more music here, different music there, press this, push that, listen to this, buy that, kids in carts demanding this and that, parents telling them to shut up or they'll never get anything again (really? .... hmmm) ... geez, shut up already! My experience today confirmed my desire to shop online or locally at small mom/pop shops - I'll gladly pay the extra price for something if everyone will just shut up! OK, I'm done.
Yeah, I know ... it's Chrismas ... or is it ... no, it's not even Thanksgiving. I refuse to partake in the madness at this time. It wasn't intended but I found myself awakened by nothing in particular this morning. I toss and turned ... I laid really still ... I shifted ... I stretched ... I finally decided my inner self had other plans for me today. I got up. Flipped the coffee on a full hour before the scheduled 5:30 memory setting. I stood there watching the coffee drip with one of my cats doing a figure eight around my legs. He must have been outside because his fur was cold against my legs ... and damp! Putting some fresh food in his bowl removed him from my space. Enter cat #2 - again the figure eight and again food in her bowl ended the routine.
It's a funny thing about cats - they're so demanding and yet a few food pellets in their bowl and they're so pleased purring all the way into my lap as a gracious thank you for my efforts. The next day those same food pellets only return a disgusted look as if to say, "That's it?" Cats ... ! Mark is our latest rescue coming from the Ozark-Dale County Humane Society. He was to be fostered as he was not adoptable due to an issue with fecal matter being deposited on area rugs. I offered to see what was going with him and tried to acclimate him to dogs and children (that is to say, grandchildren). He spent the first two weeks hiding behind the couch coming out only to use the litter box to urinate and to defecate on the area rugs. Daily, I'd scoop up the rug, deposit his deposit in the litter box in hopes he'd "get the message." I provided food and water behind the couch for him inching the bowls farther away each day. Speaking to my mother about our newest arrival, she - being an expert catwoman - suggested our vet check Mark for Giardia - a parasite. Mark was given Flagyl and in a matter of a day or two he was using the litter box for all his deposits! Still living behind the couch, I called the shelter manager to let her know the "poopy problem" had been solved. She was thrilled. The next step was to encourage Mark to interact with the family. It didn't take long either ... in fact ... he now rules the three dogs and other cat. He is, in fact, the alpha male, and he likes it that way. The next problem we encountered is Mark going from window to window and door to door. It wouldn't be long before he found his way out and I knew it. I call Ruth at the Shelter ... I explained I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep him in ... he was desperate to get outside and play. Ruth said to let him out. No problem ... I opened the door to the backyard and he dashed. I rather expected him to never return. We have a six-foot privacy fence around much of our yard - that which is seen by the street and a six-foot chain link around the rest of the yard. I watched Mark for a bit but found myself bored when he collapsed in a sunny spot. After just a few moments, he started rolling and rolling, arching his back, then chasing his tail. A butterfly piqued his curiosity and off he went on a hunt. Leaping high off the ground, smacking his front feet together in hope of capturing the elusive bug. Then he hovered in a ball, feet tucked firmly under his body. He started to squirm and wiggle then rolled enough to lose his grip on the butterfly. He watched it for a long time - flitting from one bush to another. He was so much fun to watch. Once he caught me looking, he sprawled out on the grass and took a nap. What a stinker. I knew I had to just let him be and within a few minutes he poked his head in the cat door. He wriggled in and headed to the pantry to eat. Within minutes of finishing his food, he vomited whole pieces of food ... an unexpected treat for Columbus, our Jack-Russell mix. I began to give him smaller amounts of food realizing he'd be a shelter cat for a long time and was more used to getting it while the getting was good! I figured I could retrain him to eat more slowly. I was wrong. I purchased a special bowl with obstacles protruding up from the bottom of the bowl forcing him to work a bit harder for each bite. It worked like a charm! He still manages to eat too much too fast, but he's getting better. Now, Mark easily scales our six-foot privacy fence and torments the neighborhood - though once in a while he comes dashing through the cat door with his tail all puffed up and eyes as big as saucers! A quick 'hello' relaxes him ... then he's off to his favorite spot for a nap. For as standoffish he was when he arrived, he's a snuggle-bug now! Each evening when we sees me on the couch he jumps up making himself very comfortable - don't worry about me! - and purrs so loudly I can barely hear myself think! His paws knead and knead and knead and I still haven't even touched him! It's only a matter of time before he demands to be pet by pushing his nose into my nose or kissing me or nibbling on my ear lobe ... finally I give in to his demands and he curls into my lap. Peaceful ... for now ... |
Who Am I?
I am what I am ... nothing more, nothing less. It's not that I know more than anyone else ... it's just that I've lived longer than a good many and have experienced life. I am a people watcher, a listener. I don't judge ... we all have a journey ... thank you for allowing me to share my journey with you. Archives
June 2023
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