clean floors, dirty paws

I am not a food blogger, a Pinterest recipe maker, a meal planner, or even a very good cook for that matter, but sometimes I have a stroke of brilliance that impresses even the two year olds taste buds. Here are a few recent recipes that would be cruel not to share with fellow toddler housers.     Just like your kid, my kid would eat a granola bar for all three meals a day.  I have found a few pre-made ones that are okay ingredient wise, but nothing that I'm in love with.  I have also experimented with countless recipes for homemade, but most of them seem to fall apart, be overly sticky or not taste quite yummy enough .  We love homemade Lara style bars, but I was in search of a, "looks like a classic Quaker granola bar, bar!" I finally mastered one, even better, it is no bake! I adapted this recipe from a different blog that I read a long time ago and I can't remember her name so I can't give her credit.  Sorry lady who is far smarter in the k...

Ever been trapped under a sleeping child? Maybe it was just your arm, or perhaps your entire body was being used as a human hot rock for your lizard baby.  I myself have been trapped in every way possible, including my leg at mid thigh.   In that moment it is kind of like Coyote Ugly , where you would rather chew off your own arm than wake up said sleeping child.  Even worse...you have to pee. Having been trapped numerous times, like every night for two years, I have become quite skilled at wriggling my way out of these situations.  It takes some pillow propping, some knee popping, some flexibility and some patience, but most of the time I can free myself to pee, get a glass of water or regain feeling in my limbs.  Most of the time. Of course there are the times when I wait forEVER the perfect moment.  I wait for his breathing to become heavy, for his arm to lay limp and his fingers to open and relax.  I even do the kiss test, as Caches has been k...

Ryan and I rarely argue and when we do it is usually over stupid shit.  Like what coffee ice cream tastes like.  This gem was the topic of our heated discussion last night.  We'd had it before, and I am sure we will have it again; we can not and will not agree to disagree.  On this important topic neither one of us is willing to budge. One of us, the right one, thinks that coffee ice cream tastes like coffee with cream and sugar.  The other one of us, the wrong one, thinks that it tastes like black coffee.  Black coffee that has a sweetness and a creamy texture.  You know, because it is ice cream. I am not kidding, that is a direct quote from the man I married...willingly. He continued with a long, elaborate explanation of how the two tastes were different while I remained firm that coffee with cream and sugar is the same thing as black coffee with a sweetness and a creamy texture.  At least once it is melted in your mouth it is.  I was...

Last year in honor of World Breastfeeding Week  I wrote about breastfeeding my then one year old son.  This year I decided to write about breastfeeding my now two year old son. Some may think it strange to be nursing a walking, talking, three feet tall toddler who, "asks for it," but it didn't start out that way.  We started our breastfeeding journey just like everyone else, scared shitless, wondering if it was actually going to work, and curling my toes in agony every time he latched on.  I remember wondering how it was even humanly possible for a baby so tiny to suck so hard, it is crazy, right?! We nursed through uncertainties about supply, rivers of tears, food allergies, painful reflux, engorgement, growth spurts, and exhausted glossy eyes.  Our confidence grew.  We nursed through hurt feelings and scraped knees, painful teething and unsettled nights.  It was coming easily now.  We nursed in the hot car, the dressing room, the bathroom ...

Caches, I think this past month has been our best yet.  Your vocabulary has exploded and you are becoming a regular mocking bird.  Just this morning, as your dad was leaving for work, he looked back and said, "See ya dude."  Your eyes lit up and with a huge grin you repeated back, "See ya duuuude!"  I love hearing all your new words and your ability to string them together into sentences.  You still struggle with telling me what you want or need, but it is getting so much easier.  Baby, I can't wait to hear your thoughts! You still absolutely love music, and you are now requesting songs by name. If you want to hear a specific song in the car you have no problem telling me about it, and are equally enthusiastic if you don't want to hear a song I have chosen.  And baby, you have started to sing!  It is magical and beautiful and I can't wait to hear more.  Last week I was dusting the bedside table in the guest room when you discovered a little...

Something is bothering me.  Assumptions have been made that my child is manipulating me.  I disagree.  Let me explain. It's no mystery that babies, toddlers, older children, and even adults cry and throw fits.  It is also no mystery that some of these toddlers, older children and adults are crying to manipulate their parents, boy/girlfriend, boss, police officer, etc.  But only the ones who have learned that crying changes the outcome of a situation will do this.  Others are just crying because, well, life sucks sometimes and humans cry. Many parents think their children are crying to manipulate them, and in reality, some are.  But to think that infants are manipulative is outrageous in my opinion.  I cringe every time I hear someone telling a mother that their tiny baby is trying to manipulate them!  Manipulate them to do what!?  Feed them?  Comfort them in a time of stress?  They know nothing of the world other than their...

Recently, Caches' language has exploded.  He is speaking new words and phrases every single day, and loves to mock us!  It is really fun to see it click for him, and to hear his precious thoughts and ideas. This evening on our family walk I shared with Ryan how earlier in the day Caches was copying everything I said like a little parrot.  We passed a car with two people sitting inside rolling a joint.  Yep, just sitting there, windows down for the world to see.  Ryan turned to me and said, "Just smoking some weed, huh?"  "Smokin weed." Repeated my parrot. Ryan and I started to laugh as Polly repeated the phrase a few more times.  "We really need to watch our mouths now, Ryan." I said.  Still a bit skeptical, he whined about all the things we can no longer say.  "I guess we are officially in grandma mode, huh?"  "Grama mode!!"  Squawked the little bird. Yeah, we are in that! So I'm sure you will be as surprised as I was, ...