No longer curious about George

Now that I'm home in the evenings, I've discovered Curious George. Faith likes to watch him as I'm getting things ready for supper. I must say it is my favorite kid show at the moment. Not only is it adorable, but each episode teaches some important principle. The other night, it demonstrated balance as George was walking a tight rope and making mobiles. Another episode explained weight distribution as it relates to snow shoes. The thirty minute program features two stories followed by video of children experimenting with the same principles George encountered or they recap the story. You'll find Curious George on PBS, so check your local listings. We record it for Faith during the day. But what's up with the guy in the yellow hat? I don't see that he has a job, he leaves his monkey unattended most of the time and he wears ALL yellow. Maybe they should have called him "Yella Fella." Oh, I guess that job's already taken by that guy on the billboards promoting Yella wood.
- Liz

a shot to the heart

After months of fighting with Daniel every morning to get him dressed, fed and ready for school on time, I woke this morning to find him not only playing quietly in his room, but DRESSED and playing quietly. Hallelujah! He still tried the "I feel sick, mommy" gig to get out of going to school, so I said if he still felt sick after school we'd go to the doctor. Of course, then he felt fine. "I want to go to your work," was his next tactic. "Your work is school," I replied. "Mommy's work is at the paper." He thought on this for a while, and when I made to leave his classroom, he came up with a good one: "I want this to be your work." Oh, be still my aching heart.
Don't forget the consignment sale starting today in the Riverstreet Crossings shopping center - behind Wendy's on Riverside Drive.
--Misty

Protecting the precious

Because I was out shooting video during our storms last week, it took me a little while to hear what happened here at home. The tornado siren was wailing as I pulled down the driveway, but the twister was miles away in the far western part of the county. Evenso, Matt thought he heard a "freight train" as I was getting into the car, so he wanted to be prepared. He and Faith have practiced fire drills and we've always told her we would get in the bathtub if a storm was approaching. The other night I asked where was her school book and she told me it was in the bathroom. She had stocked the room with essentials, including her baby doll. It turns out they didn't have to hunker down, but it's nice to know she's ready.
- Liz

Carryout Critic: Johnny Carrino's

Rstaurant: Johnny Carrino's Watson Blvd., Warner Robins
Date/Time of visit: Saturday, March 3, 5:30 p.m.
In/Out: Called ahead and was told the food would be ready in 25 minutes. Arrived about 30 minutes later and yep, it was ready.
Cost: $27 for two adult meals (with enough food to feed 4)
Recommendation: high

I've lived in Warner Robins a year and my first visit to Johnny Carrino's was Friday. To make up for lost time, we got carryout Saturday!
Chris got the chopped Italian Salad, which I had for lunch (and dinner Friday) and was amazed. Lots of greens, clod chicken, spicy pepperoni and bacon cooked just the way I like it - crispy and dry. Two (or three) kinds of cheese and a wonderfully light dressing. Not to mention, there's enough for at least two meals, or to feed me two meals and Daniel one dinner.
I got the planked salmon - which came on the plank - and was crusted with some kind of nuts and honey. The salmon was packaged separate from its sides - angel-hair pasta and spinach. The spinach was perfect - not overcooked at all - and had a very light sauce. The pasta was a miss - plain and dry - but I didn't miss it at all in the meal. I just ate some of the yummy bread included with our meal - and the toasted pine nut oil concoction. And there's still some salmon in the fridge. mmm, leftovers.
--Misty

Carryout critic: Italian Pie

In a recent spate of "too busy to cook," I have been picking up - not fast food, but food, fast. That means carryout from some of our regular eat-out restaurants. I don't have enough to start a separate blog, but I'll post what I've found out here. Share with your friends!
Location: Italian Pie - 738 Russell Parkway (478) 918-0084
Date/Time of visit: Tuesday, April 27; 4:45 p.m.
In/Out: under 10 minutes
Cost: $17 to feed 2 adults and one child
Recommendation: high
My inital visit to Italian Pie on Russell was a stroke of desperation. The car had been in the shop that day, which meant running a bunch of errands after work (in base traffic) rather than at lunch or before work. So I dropped in. No calling ahead, no idea what I wanted. I just walked up to the bar on a sunny Tuesday afternoon and picked up a menu. Hmmm. So many yummy choices! But we've turned over a new leaf, so to speak, and are eating more vegetables in our house. So I perused the salad section and settled on two different options.
Daniel and I had a grilled chicken garden salad. Not your usual, boring iceberg and tomatoes with a graze of carrots, mind you - the greens were varied and crisp, the veggies a delightful variety. For dad, I picked up a mediterranean salad with artichokes, olives and a bright assortment of "others."
What delighted me most was the packaging. Keeping in mind they were serving up carry-out, the Italian Pie crew boxed my hot chicken separate from my cold greens. So when I got home, the greens were still crisp and fresh instead of half-cooked. Chris also loved the tomato pesto dressing - using half of it for his bread instead of on the salad. The servings were plentiful, even when Daniel asked for seconds!
So I can't recommend Italian Pie highly enough if you're in that dinner pinch. Grab and go, without the guilt!
--Misty

Faith and the eye of the storm

Perching atop a storybook resting on a muddy pillow, was a Glenda the Goodwitch figurine rescued from the rubble of a Crawford County home. There's no telling where Dorothy rode out the storms that unleashed their fury across Central Georgia. Real cars were tossed about as if on a giant playroom floor, but this was no fun. I saw it all through the lens of a video camera today, but it was a colleague's photo that gave me the big picture. I wanted Faith especially to see what Grant Blankenship saw - and pause to consider the hurting children and their families who have seen their lives blown to smithereens.
I also want her to know how people are coming from all over to help strangers. I will tell her how victims are praising God that no one was killed and thanking Him for keeping them safe. Tonight when I tuck her into bed, we will remember those who have suffered and I will make sure Faith realizes that people can lose all they have and still have everything they need.
- Liz Fabian

EMU's silence on killing angers students

This is a difficult post for me. And no doubt, it will upset some in my family. Laura was my cousin, and as much as her death hurt us all, I'm hoping some of the things in this article will start conversations in your families. Conversations about safety - both in your homes and in the places your children call home when they leave the nest. Dorms, apartment buildings, shared houses. And take it a step further. Talk about safety at laundromats, bars and restaurants, parties and shopping centers. Dads, talk to your girls. Moms, teach your boys how to help watch over their girl friends. Print this post and use it as a starting point if you need to. OR forward the link to your students away at college. Sometimes a little fear is a good thing - if it leads to caution.
--Misty

By Nardy Baeza Bickel
The Grand Rapids Press
YPSILANTI -- After Laura Dickinson's body was found in her dorm last December, Eastern Michigan University security officials began reviewing video surveillance, looking for clues as to how the 22-year-old student from Hastings died.
What they saw worried them.
Consistently, students were leaving dorm doors open and letting strangers into the residence hall after hours.
On Sunday, university staff, safety officers and housing administrators spoke to about 50 students and a handful of parents to discuss safety and tell them about murder charges filed in Dickinson's death in her Hill Hall room.
Students posted criticism of the university on Internet blogs, saying administrators kept students in the dark until Friday, when student Orange Amir Taylor III, 20, of Southfield, was arrested and charged with murder and criminal sexual conduct.
"From the student's perspective, all we were told was that there were 'hints' or suspicions of violence, but nothing for sure," said student Kayla Potter, who said she would have liked more information on the investigation. "Then we found out that they had arrested a suspect two months later."
In the meantime, administrators told students to think more about safety. Students on Sunday suggested locking outside dorm doors 24-hours-a-day, a move that would be decided by the university's Housing Council.
Students were asked to follow basic safety guidelines, such as not letting in other students, using the university's escort service when returning late at night, watching what personal information they post on the Facebook.com social networking site and locking their doors.
"Those are basic life skills you should practice no matter where you are," Public Safety Director Cindy Hall said.

Fun at Lowes

Dad and Daniel went to a Lowe's workshop for kids Saturday morning. Daniel got his own protective goggles, tool apron, and when they were done, a certificate of completion and patch for the apron.

They made a wooden race car, which is right up Daniel's alley. He hammered on the wheels, sanded the body and applied stickers to create the Lowe's NASCAR. (Of course, when they got it home dad had to paint it red.) The point is, parents and kids had a morning out, the kids had a great time and learned a few things about tools, and they got to take home a semi-indestructable toy.

For Chris and Daniel, it has started a new hobby. Chris found a slightly more complicated wooden model of a truck, and he and Daniel are going to spend the next few nights working together on it.

--Misty

sleepover sleepyheads

Daniel had his first sleepover last night; he and a friend were up late playing trains and watching movies. Of course, the downside was that this afternoon we had the sleepy Daniel on our hands: cranky, whiny and in need of a nap! But the boys had a good time, and I can see this will be the first of many such events.
--Misty

Gourmet? I can't even boil water

There's nothing like wielding a blowtorch in the kitchen to make you feel like a real chef. I do love to cook and my recent experience carmelizing sugar on creme brulee made me feel like a cross between Tim Allen and Julia Child. It was sort of a rush.
No sooner was I on my culinary pedestal before I fell off head first. I've always been baffled as I tried to hard boil eggs. Afterall, if you can boil water, you've got it made, I thought. But too many times I've been frustrated by gooey yolks or whites that peeled away with the shell. I even tried the "foolproof" recipe from America's Test Kitchen, but still my eggs peeled apart. Well, leave it to another power tool of sorts to set me straight. You see, my husband is a big fan of that PBS cooking show that tests recipes until perfecting them. On the show, an instant-read thermometer is frequently used to test the cooking process. After searching far and wide, and shelling out big bucks, my husband bought me one just like they use on the show for my birthday last fall. I've been using it a lot lately - testing chicken, checking the temperature of the water for our coffee and most recently as I was trying again to do the "foolproof" method of hard boiling eggs. When I thought my water was boiling, I thrust in the thermometer. It only read about 180-something degrees! No wonder my yolks were gooey in the past. Some gourmet - I couldn't even boil water!
- Liz Fabian

Make play while the sun shines

Yesterday's weather was so nice that after picking Daniel up from school we went straight to the park. It seems we weren't the only ones with that idea: when we got there he had plenty of other kids to play with. I met a few parents across the merry-go-round, and felt so much better for having soaked up some sunshine! We just might do it again today.
--Misty
P.S. Don't forget to run out to Wesley UMC on Hartley Bridge Road either after work or first thing tomorrow morning. The Almost 2 New consignment sale is in full swing!
M

A loss for us all

My heart aches for the Lemon boys this morning, but not just for them. Middle Georgia has lost an incredible mom.
Here was a woman who worked hard in the health-care field and lived in a mobile home while sending her boys to Stratford Academy - one of the most expensive private schools in Bibb County. By all accounts, her sons are smart, well-mannered and have earned scholarships to higher education.
I pray that the loss of their mother does not mean the loss of her life lessons for these boys.
--Misty

Consignment sale this weekend!

Come one, come all, to the Almost 2 New consignment sale Friday and Saturday at Wesley UMC on Hartley Bridge Road in south Bibb County. The ladies have worked hard to bring out high-quality secondhand items for our shopping pleasure. I'll see you there!
--Misty

At his leisure

I thought this morning that I would avoid the daily fight with Daniel by letting him do things his way. Sleep as late as he wanted to, play when he first woke up, come out for breakfast when he wanted, the works. Turns out I caused a bigger fight because my darling child, it turns out, is indecisive.
"I don't want bananas in my cereal." he announced.
"OK, put them in my bowl," I offered.
He did, but midway through the meal he decided he liked bananas after all.
"Can I have a banana?"
"No, when I gave you one you gave it back. So now you can't have one."
Then came time to get dressed.
"Here are your pants and jacket, pick out a shirt." (I'm no fool, if I gave him complete freedom of choice we'd be there all morning.)
"I don't want Lightning McQueen."
"Really? You love Lightning McQueen. How about your firetruck shirt?"
"I want Lightning McQueen!"
"Okay, here it is, put it on."
"I don't like red!"
(Insert mommy meltdown)
And when I call my mom, she chuckles. Because I and my sister both put her through the same seven levels of hell every day of our childhoods. It's amazing we lived to see adulthood.
Sorry, mom.
--Misty

I cannot tell a lie

President's Day has been no holiday. With Faith out of school and her parents' schedules on a collision course, we had to do some juggling. I must say we have been blessed in the scheduling department for years. One of us is usually able to step in to take care of her, but today there was no way around it. Many of our regular "keepers of the Faith" were either sick, stuck somewhere else or otherwise engaged. Thank goodness she was able to spend a couple of hours with her friend across the street. But beginning the day not knowing how I was going to handle her was pretty stressful. God bless those who are looking for childcare regularly. As for today, George Washington would have wanted me to be truthful in admitting it was really a bummer not being able to bum around with my girl on her day off. Monday holidays were really special for us when I was off, too. That's the only downside of working your schedule around school - when they're off you're still on.
- Liz Fabian

Childhood, an encore presentation

Our cat let out one of those meows that can best be translated as "HELP." Our kitty, Moo Moo, wanted desperately to be rescued. It's partly my fault that Faith wanted to dress up the cat and carry him around like a baby. This weekend I rented the Disney Classic, "The Three lives of Thomasina." I had seen the 1964 movie as a child and remembered the little girl's angst at the loss of her cat. Although I couldn't recall much of the plot, I had images of the girl wandering out in the rain and becoming deathly ill as she searched for her beloved pet. This morning, Faith was toting Moo Moo in a baby blanket. She was calling, "Thomasina, Thomasina." In the movie, the young girl was fond of dressing the cat in doll clothes. So far Moo Moo has escaped that humilation - but the day is young.
Liz Fabian

Die, flu bug, die!

It's been a rough month in our area for fighting the flu. Half my office has come down with it, I got it, gave it to Chris, who gave it back to me. Fortunately, Daniel has stayed healthy (knock, knock, knock on wood!).
So what can a poor mom do?
1: prevent. Clorox is your friend. I wash all of Daniel's clothes in color-safe bleach. They may not have that "new" look as long, but at the rate he's growing, I'm not worried about longevity. Sheets get the same treatment, and towels have always gotten the bleachworks to prevent mold. Also wipe down doorknobs, car seats and door handles, countertops and favorite toys. My favorite recent invention is the can of Clorox wipes. There's a story on Yahoo! today that says your work desk is germier (is that a word?) than the bathroom! eeew.
2: treat. I know people who have been down with this thing for a week. When I got sick, I took a dose of Theraflu and slept for 40 hours. So mom, don't mess around. If you're sick, call in the reinforcements. Stay in bed. If you try to keep doing it all, it'll take longer to get well again. And yes, I did have to learn that the hard way.
3: entertain. If it's the kids who are sick, get some of those allergy masks from the drugstore for everyone else. While you're at it, grab some cheap medical gloves so you can play "hospital" with the patients. Of course, they make cute balloons, too. This might also be the time to cave on having a tv in the kids' room. Make one room in the house the "sick" room and confine the illness as best you can. Also, this cuts down on the sheet-washing a little bit. Remeber to clorox everything from the light switch down and remember, this too, shall pass!
--Misty

oops

Blogspot finally forced me to upgrade from their Beta version, and I discovered that I had not enabled the "comments" function. All this time I thought you were all just too busy to respond to us! Thank you for all your past and future comments - we appreciate them...
--Misty

Giggles in the night

I woke in the pre-dawn hours to hear Daniel laughing hysterically in his bed. What in the world was he dreaming about? Was he awake? My questions were soon answered.
He was dreaming about Thomas and the rest of the train-gang. "Go Thomas, go!" I heard him laugh. I shuffled actross the hall and peeked in: my boy was sound asleep, Thomas clutched in one hand, James in the other, grin on his face. It's good to know he has fun in his sleep, too.
--Misty

Here come the brides

If proper planning can guarantee a beautiful, flawless wedding, my daughter is way ahead of the game. Thanks to a clearance rack software program entitled, "My fantasy wedding," Faith has been immersed in planning her nuptuals and designing weddings for other couples. From our computer, she has been picking out rings, designing gowns, choosing tuxedos, creating her music programs and selecting cakes. She can choose from a variety of venues such as a chapel, beach or park. The ceremony includes special vows tailored to the occasion. She chooses her wedding party, does everyone's hair and designs their gowns. Once she makes her selections from several stores and plans all the other details, she sits back and watches the event unfold. During a recent ceremony in which she fashioned herself as the bride, her gown was purple to match the bridesmaids' flowers and the tuxedos for the groomsmen. Faith had died her hair blue, but it's not clear whether she had selected something borrowed. Her groom wore a white tux with a salmon-colored ruffled shirt, and her bridesmaids were also dressed in white. Let's just hope she gets this out of her system. If not, I might have to select a straight jacket for my mother of the bride attire.
- Liz

Still Mmm, Mmm, good - my bad

The other night it was just going to be Faith and me for supper. I hit the grocery store after work and thought I'd try to make a special meal that she would like. What did I love as a child? Spaghetti and meatballs. That would be hit, I thought. So I purchased what I needed and headed home. I'll admit I was taking some shortcuts by not making my own sauce and buying packaged meatballs from the meat deparment, but I wasn't prepared for the rejection I got. I set the table with red placemats and cut some fresh camelias to match. I arranged them with some daffodils in a heart-shaped vase and got out Faith's "fancy glass" that lights up. When she came home from a friend's house, I told her the good news. "Faith, I made you a special dinner - spaghetti and meatballs," I told her. "Aw," she said, "I wanted to finish my soup." The soup she was talking about was some leftover Campbell's double noodle soup she insisted I save for her. What an insult, I thought. Faith didn't want to disappoint me but I learned there were extenuating circumstances. "But Mom, spaghetti reminds me of when I threw up at Paige's," Faith told me. Enough said. Bring on the soup.
-Liz

an hour's enough

It turns out an hour of sleep (and large doses of caffeine) got me through the day yesterday. And Daniel and I actually had a GOOD day - no fights at all! I attended story time and Valentine-making at his school, then we walked the Wellston trail to Fountain park. He was disappointed that there weren't any other kids there, but he and the dog played for a while, then we walked home. He amused himself with trains while I cooked dinner, then dad took over. It helped that our canine guest had been relocated. Unfortunately, it turns out he escaped his new home (if anyone finds a rat terrier wandering the streets of Warner Robins, he really is homeless).
So today it's back to normal - fighting about what clothes he's going to wear, taking 45 minutes to eat cheerios with a banana, and the agonizing decision over what to bring for show n tell. Ah, the rhythm of parenthood.
--Misty

an hour of sleep

So how's a mom supposed to function on an hour of sleep?
Events conspired against me last night, and in spite of going to bed at a reasonable hour, I didn't fall asleep until almost midnight. Then Daniel crawled in the bed at 1:30. Plus, we have a temporary canine houseguest who insisted on sleeping in the bed, too. This angered the cat, and the fur flew. So I was kicking a rat terrier off my feet every fifteen minutes. Daniel's digging his toes into my back (note to self: time for a toenail trim!) and the next thing I know it's 5 a.m. and hubby's alarm is going off.
Sigh. To top it off, I remembered this morning that I'm supposed to be at school at 2:30 today for Valentine-making. Better get to work!
--Misty

doing it himself

I let Daniel dress himself most days. That means he gets to pick out pants, then a shirt. There's usually heavy negotiations about the shirt, because he inevitably wants to wear his "Lightning McQueen" or "Thomas" t-shirts and I want him to wear something warmer. Regardless, I'm proud of the days when he does it all himself, even if he doesn't match. Red sweatpants and orange sweatshirt? Okay. Camo pants and Thomas shirt? Okay. Shoes on the wrong feet? Sometimes I don't even notice. Because let's face it, these small steps toward independence are more important in idea than execution. We'll work on the fine points later - like high school.
--Misty

top teens

If you haven't seen the Telegraph's "Fresh Ink" page lately, grab a copy of today's paper. Kendall Dreyer has one of the best columns I've read in a while, and tells the story of a good group of kids. Her tale gives hope to those of us adults jaded enough to be seriously worried about future generations. Kudos to her parents.
Also featured on the page could be the next REM - a local band paying their dues and playing music they love without taking the "American Idol" shortcut. "King of the Juice" fans have an edge in that the band members seem to care more about their music than fame - pretty smart for a group of high school gentlemen.
The kids featured on "Fresh Ink" - and the kids who put the page together - are the ones we should watch as future leaders of our society, and thank our lucky stars.
--Misty

Mr. Clingy

Little feet tip-toed into our room early Sunday morning. "Has daddy gone to work?" Daniel pseudo-whispered at my side.
"No baby, he's right here."
"Are we staying home today?" Hope filled his little voice.
"I'm right here, son, and we're going to hang out all day." At the sound of dad's voice, Daniel scrambled in between us and snuggled down into the covers.
It's like that some mornings, soft and sweet and easy. Then mornings like today, Daniel doesn't want to get up, is sad dad's already gone to work, and doesn't want me to leave him at school.
"I'm still sleepy, momma."
"My tummy hurts."
"I don't want to go to school, I want to be sick."
He learned that if he's sick, he gets to hang out with mom and dad all day. And while I so appreciate this time when he actually wants to be with us, school and work are non-negotiable, and that's a hard lesson to learn when you're four.
So I spend a little extra time with him in the classroom and dad reads a couple of extra stories at night, and we all do the best we can to reassure the boy.
--Misty

Tearful triage

There's nothing like hearing your child's scream to get your attention. The other day, Faith was playing outside on her Barbie four-wheeler when we heard her cries. She was holding her head as she approached the back door in tears. All she could manage to say was that she fell. We could see there was already a place on her head that seemed to be swelling. With a sequence of questions, we tried to figure out how she hurt herself, while at the same time we were quickly assessing the nature of her injury. It turns out she was playing on a piece of exercise equipment when the handles hit her in the head and knocked her down. A short time under an ice pack in her room and she was back to normal. Then last night, she screamed for us from the bathtub. What in the world could have unleashed such a desperate cry for help? Turns out, she had turned on the faucet to fill the tub, and couldn't shut it off. She was frantic as the water level was rising near the top of the tub. Daddy turned off the water and life returned to normal. It's amazing how fast your heart can race from a state of tranquility to near panic.

- Liz Fabian

For whom the bell tolls

Tardy slips emerged from the crevices of her bookbag in what seemed to be an unending string. One, two, three, four, five, SIX... Who knew? Just every administrator at school, her teachers and just about everyone - but her parents. Sure, it's always been a chore getting Faith out the door on time, but somehow we thought we were squeaking by as Matt hasn't had to take her by the office but a couple of times. We didn't realize she wasn't hitting morning assembly before the bell. There are so many things that can go wrong in the morning. Where did she leave her shoes? How can we fix her hair? Where is her bookbag? It's been even harder now that I'm not home to get breakfast going and snacks packed. Tomorrow is another theme-dress day and I've already laid out Faith's clothes. Let's hope she's safe before the bell.

- Liz Fabian

playdate planning

Daniel misses his friends on the weekends and it shows. He's baan asking me for months if this classmate or that one can come to his house.
So in an effort to keep him entertained and make some new acquaintances of my own, I have invited three of the children he talks about most, and their moms, over for a playdate this weekend.
That means I've had the guys cleaning up the back yard, I've been keepind a closer eye on the disaster in Daniel's room, and I'm planning a Wal-Mart run for the industrial-size box of Goldfish and juice boxes. I'll let you know how it goes.
--Misty

correction

Reading back, I realize I erred: Dinner By Design is on Russell Parkway in Warner Robins between Kimberly and Moody roads. Mental error on my part.
--Misty

Missing the meltdown

There are some really big advantages to my new work schedule. Converting from a late night to early morning shift gives me more time at home with Faith. Instead of seeing her for breakfast and dinner, I am generally home in the late afternoon or early evening. We can have four hours together as opposed to about 60 to 90 minutes when I was preparing meals and getting her ready for school. Ah... missing getting ready for school - that is certainly a bonus. Although Faith wears uniforms, it can still be a very trying time getting her out the door on time. Case in point - last week's career day. She wanted to dress as a hair stylist, which I thought would be easy. Choose a grown-up style outfit and you're done. But I am sure glad I missed that wardrobe war! By a providential glitch in my cell phone, I didn't hear all four SOS calls from my husband that morning. This is from a man who rarely calls me unless it involves planning for his next meal. I tried to avert the costume catastrophe by picking out Faith's outfit the night before, but I could not find her black skirt. Along with her belt of hair supplies, I left her several outfits. Nothing I chose would do. The tears started flowing and kept flowing and flowing all the way to school. Who knew a career as a hair stylist would be so stressful? Her next dress-down day is Valentine's Day. Her daddy's going to love that!
- Liz Fabian

best idea I've seen in a while

There's a movement afoot in Macon and Warner Robins led by Super Suppers and Dinner by Design. Let me tell you about it:
Instead of going grocery shopping, bringing it all home, putting it away only to take it back out, mix, slice, measure and pour all before you get to actually bake and eat, busy moms and dads have the opportunity to schedule a visit to one of these shops. Super Suppers is on Forsyth Street, Dinner by Design is on Watson. You go in, select several entrees from their monthly menus, and they'll walk you through the prep work at the pre-setup stations. You can choose to leave out any ingredients your family won't touch, or to add a little more of whatever they should be eating more of. At the end of two hours, you can have up to twelve fully prepared meals ready to stash in the freexer. When dinnertime rolls around, all you have to do is defrost and bake! It's not fast food; these are real ingredients and real meals. And you don't have to do twelve meals. Drop in, try one or two. I'm betting you'll be hooked.
Want to try the food without the full experience the first time? Super Suppers offers a freezer full of menu items ready to pick up. And if you know what you want, you can call ahead and they'll make it fresh for you for a small service charge.
I love this concept, if only because the menu items are things I would actually fix for my family if I had the time! Everything is so fresh, you know you're eating for nutrition, too. And Super Suppers offers a few events to get you in the door:
Feb. 19, when the kiddies are out of school for President's Day, there are mommy and me workshops available. Sign up and bring your child in to cook for the family. Teaching them the basics of food prep now will help them during those crazy college days when some students live on pizza and mac n cheese. Also, check Super Suppers calendar online (www.ssmaconga.com) for their Super Suppers 101 introduction courses. Worth your time - hey, make it a date nite!
--Misty

Consignment sale time

Even though I put Daniel in a hat and mittens this morning, it's time to start getting your kids' barely-worn summer clothes ready for area consignment sales. Today I'm going to share the information for the Almost 2 New sale in south Bibb County. In the coming days, I'll touch on MOPS and any other sales I hear about (hint, hint, send me your information!)
Almost 2 New has grown to the point where it will be held at a new venue: Wesley United Methodist Church on Hartley Bridge Road. Jennifer and Pamela will be receiving items by appointment Feb. 17, 19 and 20. The public sale will be Feb. 23 from 8a.m. to 1:30 p.m. and 4-8 p.m. and Feb. 24 from 7 a.m. to noon. Saturday is, of course, the half-price day, so get there early! All items not sold or picked up by sellers go to charity. For more information, contact Jennifer at jennifer.jordan@cox.net (and tell her you saw it on the moms blog!)
--Misty

Mister Manners

If there's one thing I've taught Daniel that I'm pretty proud of, it's "please," "thank you," "yes, sir" and "no, ma'am." In other words, the art of being polite.
I'm not going to go so far as to say he has good manners - after all he still wants to eat peas with his fingers and run indoors. But in conversation, he's polite. And we're working on "excuse me" for when he wants to interrupt either a long conversation or something dad or I are doing. Most of the time, it comes out more like "'scuse ME!!!"
--Misty

Danielus interruptus part II

I remember my mom's frustration - every time she got on the phone one of us kids needed something - urgently! So I have a very calm solution with Daniel. I gave him his own phone.
It gives him something to do while I talk, even if it means I hear my end of a conversation twice. I'll say something, then a mockingbird behind me repeats the whole thing - tone, inflection and all. It's a little eerie, but it makes me watch what I say and how I say it!
When he does interrupt while I'm talking, usually "Daniel, mommy's on the phone" will take care of the situation. But I understand, to an extent, why all the interruptions.
A telephone is competition for my attention. And it's not competition he can directly combat. So often, when he and I are reading a book or something "just us," I choose not to answer the phone.
I have voicemail. I have caller ID. I return messages and calls. And you know what? It's been remarkably freeing! Now, if we're eating dinner and the phone rings, I continue enjoying my dinner. I no longer race to get the phone when it rings. I feel more in control of my time, and that's a good feeling.
--Misty

Danielus interruptus

There's an ongoing battle at our house. As soon as Chris gets home, he wants to share with me the details of his day and I inevitably have a bunch of stuff to tell him. But Daniel hears the truck pull up and it's "Daddy's home!" - and out the door he goes. An hour later, he could still be chattering away at Chris.
So we're trying to teach him that when mom and dad are having a conversation, he needs to wait until we stop for him to speak. But I'm learning that it's a common issue for parents of small children, and Parent Center explains why:
First, kids don't have a developed short-term memory yet. So if I make Daniel wait five minutes, he's likely to forget what it was he wanted to tell me. Second, from birth we kind of train kids that our world revolves around them. As they gain independence, we as parents have to do some retraining.
But then there's the concept of emergencies. Is it okay to interrupt if he's spilled something? If the dog has the cat by the tail? If he needs a kleenex? It's complicated - especially when you're four.
--Misty

So, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Perhaps she's hanging out too much with the multi-faceted Barbie, but Faith is vacillating a bit about what she wants to be when she grows up. Not that career paths are set in stone at six, but we've run the gamut. In her toddler days, she'd put on her best dress-up clothes, hit her tricycle and go to "work" in her playhouse. Back then she was "working" at The Telegraph. Her "day" consisted of miming like she was typing for about 30 seconds and then getting back in the "car" to go home for supper. After she saw Barbie as Rapunzel, Faith decided she would be an artist. Every picture masterpiece had to be hung on the fridge or find some other place of honor in the kitchen. Her doctor kit inspired a career in medicine for a while. Watching "The Nutcracker" and taking dance lessons set her sights on being a ballerina. So, I was surprised the other day when Faith announced she wanted to be a "massage rubber." Aside from a pedicure I treated her to a while back, I'm not sure where she got the idea to be a masseuse. But I reaped the benefits of a massage over the weekend. Not bad. But as I was struggling with how to dress her for Career Day this week, her ambitions changed again. With Cinderella propped up in the mini salon chair she got from her hair stylist aunt, Faith went to work on the doll's blond tresses and announced she wanted to be a hair stylist. At least she has some experience from previous impromptu haircuts she performed on herself. Although I'm not quite ready to be her first customer for a cut. Now we're trying to come up with a "hair stylist" outfit for Career Day. I can't wait to see how Faith "fixes" her own hair that day.
- Liz Fabian

Watch out for your rights

I received this note this morning: California parents could face jail and a fine for spanking their young children under legislation a state lawmaker has promised to introduce this week. The proposal would make spanking, hitting and slapping a child under 4 years old a misdemeanor. Adults could face up to a year in jail and a $1,000 fine.
All I can think is that this lawmaker must not have spent any time with a child under 4. The difference between discipline and abuse is massive, and I belive parents need room to discipline without the law getting involved. As Daniel begins to understand time-outs and getting grounded, spankings become few and far between.
And as I listen to teachers describe the behavior and attitude of their students, most of the time I can only think, "these kids need MORE spankings, not fewer."
--Misty

Downsizing

Have you noticed that when your kids are litte you still have your "pre-kid" friends? You still host (and attend) parties, you still participate in your own hobbies?
As your kids get older, you find yourself downsizing to make room for their events. Your parties give way to supervising their parties. Your hobbies give way to attending their games, meets, matches and events. They don't come with you to your stuff, you go with them to their stuff. Is it any wonder that parents with recent empty nests have that shell-shocked look about them? I guess it takes about as much time to revert back from a "child-centric" life as it took to get there.
What brought this on? I'm downsizing my activities. I'm giving up a few things that take up a lot of my time and energy in order to do two things: recover from my surgery (it's taking longer than I expected) and spend more time with Daniel before he actually starts Kindergarten in the fall. There are things I want to do with him this summer, and it means carving out the space in my life. The beauty of it is, I know how grateful he already is for the time we spend together. I expect the rewards for my change will be even greater for me.
--Misty

Feeling the love

I thought I was losing my mind. While packing for a newspaper conference, my suitcase disappeared. Thinking my husband prematurely packed it in my car, I looked outside. It wasn't there. I started looking all over the house, thinking I put my overnight bag down somewhere while I was doing other things. When I audibly announced my frustration at not being able to find my bag, Faith disappeared down the hall and I heard the linen closet door slide open. Miraculously, the suitcase appeared. Faith had stashed it, hoping I wouldn't leave if I couldn't find the suitcase. It's nice to be loved. Just the other day she warmed my heart in another way. After dinner, Daddy had dished up some ice cream for her after she left the room for something. While she was gone, I passed by her bowl and squirted a little strawberry sauce on top. I didn't expect much of a reaction, but when she came back to the table, her face lit up. "I love what you do for me," she said to my delight. Who knew adding a little sweetness would reap such a rich reward?
-- Liz Fabian

Show n tell rut

Every week, Daniel looks forward to Friday. "Is it Friday yet?"
Friday comes and, inevitably, he comes out of his room clutching either Thomas the tank engine or Emily, the shiny green engine with the big wheel. "I'm bringing Thomas to show n tell!" he announces. And I sigh.
"You brought Thomas last week. Pick something else."
"I'll being Emily."
"No, your friends have already seen Emily. Pick something that's NOT a train."
And so the agony begins. And, because show n tell is supposed to be fun for HIM, I eventually give in. "Okay, you can bring Thomas, IF you put him in your Thomas lunchbox and bring your puzzle to put together, too." It's all Thomas the train, so he's good with the compromise. And teachers, just so you know, I'm trying to break the rut!
--Misty

Dad's day

Chris called me a little while ago: "I don't know how you do it every morning," he said.
It was dad's day at preschool and Chris visited during small group time. He put puzzles together with Daniel and his little friends, and when it was time for him to leave, Daniel pulled out all the stops. Tugging on his leg. Crocodile tears. Honest-to-God wailing. "Go on," the teacher shooed Chris out the door. "He'll settle down as soon as you leave."
And I'm sure he did. How do I know? Because many a guilt-ridden morning I have slipped out the door to those big, sad eyes only to sneak to the window and watch my little actor turn on the sunshine and play happily, certain his guilt trip had ensured my return as soon as possible.
So dad got a dose of that this morning, and I'm sure there will be quality father-son time this evening. Good thing, too. I have a wedding cake to decorate.
--Misty

Just playing

Daniel is big into playing right now. I guess it's because he's learning the difference between work (at school) and play. So it's "eat your breakfast." "And then I can play?" "Take you bath." "And then I can play?"
And "play" can mean a dozen different things to him - all of which I think fall into the category of "learning." For example:
Legos and blocks are the tools of a future builder.
Teddy bears, Cabbage Patch kids and Winnie the Pooh are lessons in taking care of a family.
Paint, crayons and Play Doh are all tools of creativity. Plus, he's developing his fine motor skills with those little fingers.
Books and his Leap pad are the first steps to reading. When he can "tell" a story because I've read that book to him so many times he's memorized it, I've done my job in opening that door to him.
Bugs, leaves, "flowers" and berries he collects from the yard - and even the rocks I find in his pockets - are all the signs of a child who notices the things around him.
Even movies are lessons disguised as down time - I hear "I'm Lightning McQueen!" as he races full-tilt around the yard or down the Wellston Trail. The "Cars" speed demon encourages him to run and exercise.
So when I ask Daniel what he wants to do and he says "just play," I'm happy to say "OK."
--Misty

Mid-January motivation

I know what Liz is talking about when she says she's still stuck in the pre-Christmas mode. The season seems to have just gone by too fast this year. Plus, I'm still waiting for it to get cold. While I'm sure I'll be eating these words in March, where's the fun in a January that's so warm I'm walking in shorts and a t-shirt? The daffodils have already bloomed in my yard! I have buds on my pear trees! Winters like this were fun as a kid living in Hawaii, but here in the contiguous 48, I expect a little variety. So give me a cold snap so I can break out the hot chocolate and curl up with someone who keeps me warm in my heart.
--Misty

Dr. Daniel and Mr. Hyde

Some mornings Daniel and I are up and out the door with barely a word between us. He knows what he has to do, I'm ticking along like clockwork.
Other mornings it's a stuggle to get out of bed, and he doesn't want to get his morning started, either. As much as I'd like to let him lie in the covers and read, the dog has to be fed, cereal has to be eaten, and pajamas have to be discarded for clothes so we can get to school on time. And he fights me every step of the way. "I don't want milk - I DO want milk! I don't want to feed Jennie; you do it. I want to pick out a shirt! I don't want my jacket. I'm cold!" And when people ask me "doesn't it just make you want five more?" they wonder why I bare my teeth.
--Misty

Merry New Year!

How can it be nearing mid-January? I'm still stuck somewhere before Christmas - right about the time I should have been mailing cards. Don't ask me how I've gotten here already. The wise men have come and gone with the feast of Epiphany, so I don't think there's any way I can send my "We Three Kings" cards now. Although I just learned from the pastor of St. Joseph's that the feast of the Presentation of the Lord used to be the official Catholic end of Christmas. I KNOW I can have the trees down by February 2nd! As for the cards, they may be transformed to valentines. It's worked before. Perhaps I'm just in denial that Christmas is over. Maybe it's because I know everything has to be put away. Where are the little elves when you need them?
- Liz

the best of intentions

When Daniel's preschool sent home notes about free eye exams, I thought, okay, it can't hurt anything. He already wears glasses and has a pediatric optometrist.
The exam came and went, and not surprisingly, he failed. Daniel seems to think eye exams are a game and doesn't like to play by the rules. Then the phone calls started.
The organization in charge of the exams let me know that Daniel's glasses were scratched. Yep, I have two new pair on order. Well, he only tested at 20/50. Yep, he was playing games with you, but his next appointment is this week. Perhaps we should call you after that appointment to make sure he went and check on the results. What? Excuse me? I know my kid has problems seeing, he has an optometrist, and as parents we're doing the things we need to, so kindly get off my back!
I can't wait until they call again, after his appointment.
--Misty

surgical lessons part 2

What benefits do you have that you don't know about?
I learned recently that my insurance company offers benefits I didn't know about. For example, when we signed up, we were told that we would receive a phone call from a nurse, employed by United Healthcare, following any hospital stay. "Okay, whatever," I thought. Then she called me.
The first time I talked to Pat, I was two days post-op, had a killer sore throat (intubation sucks!) and was still a little hazy. She was friendly and just checking to make sure I had been trated well in the hospital. Did I have any questions about the insurance? Actually, yeah. In my drug-induced haze I remembered a major pre-op procedure had been denied and the paperwork had been waiting for me when I got home. She'd look into it, she said. We hung up and I went back to la-la land.
This week, she called again, delighted to hear my sore throat was gone, I was walking my two miles a day, and feeling good enough to return to work. She HAD looked into that denied calim, gotten it reprocessed and PAID! Then she started in on what I presume is her REAL job - keeping me healthy. "Have you had your flu shot this year? They'll still give you one if you contact your primary care physician. Anesthesia and surgery could make youmore prone to illness for a while. Do you get your annual physical? Pap? Mammogram? Are there any health concerns you have?" I told her I couldn't wait to get back to the gym because I had a serious plan to drop some excess weight this year and next. "Well did you know we offer a dietician and personal trainer who will consult with you by phone?"
Wait a minute. What? My insurance company offers a dietician? and a personal trainer? Free? Holy cannollis. Where do I sign up?
So Pat hooked me up, and I can't wait to hear what she has to say during our next phone call. After all, she says, it's in the best interest of both my insurer and my employer to keep me healthy - and working!
What benefits do you have that you're not taking advantage of? It's January. If you have dental and vision, schedule checkups for the entire family now. How long has it been since the entire family had a physical? (dad, too!) This is the best time to not only change your smoke detector batteries, but to check out your own batteries.
--Misty

surgical lessons part 1

Under the heading of "things I thought I hallucinated" were my surgeon's post-op instructions to "walk two miles a day." Mind you, said surgeon had just removed a slice of my hipbone! I though HE was the one on morphine.
But once I got hobbling along, I discovered not only that the orders were not a hallucination, but that they worked. I felt better, could walk easier, and learned a few things about my neighborhood.
For instance, there are a lot of children (or grandchildren) who got toys similar to Daniel's for Christmas. I think it was in Virginia that I learned to break down all boxes and either make them fit in the trash can or haul them to the Dumpster myself if I didn't want everyone to know what new toys I had. So hopefully in the fall we'll meet some more neighborhood kids for Daniel to play with.
Also, in the interest of taking a long walk that DIDN'T involve climbing hills, the dog and I explored a part of the Wellston trail that ends in my neighborhood. Lo and behold, the other end of a little-over-a-mile walk comes out at Fountain Park on Kimberly Road. I had been thinking the trail would be a great place for Daniel to practice riding his bike (see abovementioned hills) and I was right. Knowing there's a playground on the other end of the ride will motivate his little legs to tame the two-wheeler. And if my weight-loss plans proceed as I hope, I'll be joining him on roller skates come Spring.
So what cool discoveries are you ready to make in your neighborhood? Take the kids for a walk on the next sunny day and see what you can see!
--Misty

cooking with kids part II

So when Daniel joins mom in the kitchen, I have to come up with something for him to do. Try these ideas when your little ones are underfoot:
Let them mash and "smash" the potatoes. Put out all the ingredients for stuffed potatoes: cheese, sour cream, green onions, bacon bits, garlic, etc. Boil the potatoes yourself and then turn the pot over to the kids with a potato masher. Let them decide which ingredients - and how much - to add. As long as they don't reach for the jelly, what can it hurt?
Let them make dessert while you make dinner. Bananas, strawberries and other fruits can all be cut with a kid-safe plastic knife. So get out the sundae cups, cool-whip, and fruit, and leth the kids assemble their favorites. If it's not to your taste, "Oh, mommy ate too much dinner and is just too full for dessert!" Rest assured, they'll eat your share - after all, they "cooked" it!
--Misty

cooking with kids

Daniel is at the point where he has to be a part of everything mom and dad do. With that in mind, we got some Christmas toys that are more like parent-and-child projects. Right now, Daniel and Chris are building a new train table, complete with tracks that run up a mountain and beside a lake for all the boy's trains. They've had fun laying it out and tinkering with the design, but Daniel's ready to play on it! Also on tap for father and son: the Craftsman "My first engine." We found it while rambling through Wal-Mart a few months ago, and it's got almost as many pieces as a real 427. The question is, how many will be left over when they're done ans it's running?
--Misty

Post-Christmas blues

On a dreary Saturday, my mood matches the atmosphere on the sixth day of Christmas. Something just seemed off this year. Maybe it was because this is the first year without my mother, or that the holiday came WAY before I was ready for it, or that we weren't here to open presents Christmas morning. After spending the night Christmas Eve at my brother's, Faith stayed the rest of the week with her aunt and uncle and returned last night. In a matter of minutes, she made her way through our gifts for her and those left by disappointed relatives who missed her while she was away. Bang. It's over. I didn't even get all the decorations out and now many folks have already packed theirs away for next year. I shouldn't be so blue. We're about to celebrate Christmas with my husband's family. It's beginning to look like Christmas all over again and I should be happy my husband didn't get me six geese-a-laying.
-- Liz Fabian

mall madness

I thought BEFORE-Christmas shoppers were intense until I went to the mall today and encountered the AFTER-Christmas shoppers.
The orthopaedic surgeon says the best thing for me is walking, but I can't lift anything. My neighborhood is full of hills, so I thought I'd head to the mall for a litte flat-surface spin. A neighbor had a Bath and Body Works gift card, so Daniel and I tagged along. Well, apparently $3 body wash is a massive draw. I confess to getting five bottles, and standing in line to pay. But I don't think I've ever seen a store so crowded! Fortunately, Daniel has been clingy lately and wanted nothing more than to hold my hand!
So I walked, Daniel carried, and now I'm sore and ready to call it a night. Kind of sad when just a turn through the mall wipes you out - and you only went to one store!
--Misty

Ready or not

The question kept coming up every where I went. "Are you ready for Christmas?" The answer was, "No." If asked today, the answer would still be, "No." Although I shop year-round, getting the packages wrapped and under the tree is always a challenge. Here is one of the times I really embrace my Catholic upbringing. Ahh, the 12 Days of Christmas. We are now on Day 3. Perhaps I will have all the gifts ready by Day 12, which is January 5th. I've been sorting the presents by priority. We won't see my husband's family until next week, so I'll be ready for them. Because we missed our first deadline of having the cards out just after Thanksgiving, we'll have to really hustle to get them out before the dozen drummers come calling. Thank goodness the wise men are on the front of our cards. The feast of Epiphany, which celebrates their coming to see the baby Jesus, is on January 6th. Of course, historians say Jesus was really about two years old when they came - sooo, I guess if I get the cards out by 2009 I'll still be OK.
--Liz Fabian

no slowing him down

Daniel and I have been home together for three days now.
Three days in which I'm still moving at half-speed from my surgery and he's moving at twice the speed of preschooler, it seems. How many times can I yell "walk!" as the thundering of small feet carries down the hallway? Haw many times do I have to say "STOP!" just prior to full disaster?
This morning, my young man learned the hard way that I'm not chastising him to walk, not run, in the house. He had just finished writing a thank-you note and I told him to get his shoes so we could walk it down to the mailbox. He pivoted and sped away - right into the corner of the kitchen counter. I was sure we were headed to the ER for some x-rays.
But once the sobbing stopped and I checked his eyes, I decided the eye bone was still in place and he just had a giant goose-egg on his forehead. And now he's off and running again. *sigh*
--Misty

Christmas weather

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas - at least the Christmases I remember as a kid!
Because even though I was born in Michigan and still claim that snowy state as my home state, my family spent six years in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, while I was growing up. And I remember getting things like roller skates for Christmas, which I promptly put on and tried out.
So 75 degrees and sunny feels just like Christmas, to me!
--Misty

Similar stories

When I read Liz's post about the angel ornament, I was reminded of my granddaddy's pecan tree. It was the only thing off-limits to us grandkids growing up. No climbing on that tree! And each year, it produced plump fruit - enough to fill grandma's freezer. Twelve years ago, when grandaddy passed, so did the tree. The first time we went to grandma's and that massive pecan tree was missing from the yard, it was like losing him all over again. I think there are tangible items we associate with the people in our lives, and more than any headstone, they remind us of those we have loved and lost.
--Misty

The lost angel

She's gone. After writing my Christmas column in the paper last week, I've been eagerly anticipating finding the tiny angel decoration that adorned one of my packages at my first Christmas. I was a little more than two months old, but as the years went on, my mother made sure I knew the significance of that two-inch celestial being fashioned of chiffon and pipe cleaners. She always found a little perch on my tree, although the years were beginning to take their toll. Her gown needed a little freshening up to mold her back into shape. I can't believe she's gone. This morning, I still had another box of ornaments to sort through and I was sure she was there. She wasn't. The star of my story, the ornament that started it all, is missing. I don't think there's much of a chance I'll find her. She's likely swimming with the fishes now. The only thing I can think of is that she was left on the tree last year when we took it down. She's so small and is usually nestled on an inner branch. Perhaps she fell down into the tree and was overlooked. The tree is at the bottom of Lake Sinclair now as a fish haven. I hope they enjoy her. Of course she only meant something to me and my mother - and Mom's gone too. I had anticipated crying over some smashed ornament that might have slipped out of Faith's grasp, but I never imagined grieving over my angel. It seems so silly to be crying about something so small. Only Mom would understand.
- Liz Fabian

Timing is everything

As I went to bed last night, I was delighted to switch off my alarm clock. Today is Faith's first day of Christmas vacation. When I was getting into bed well after midnight, I thought about how nice it would be to wake up when my body was ready instead of when an electronic beep roused me from my sleep. What a joy it would be to get a little extra rest, I thought. Well, Faith's stubborn internal clock had other plans. Before the sun was over the horizon, she bopped into our room and woke us up. The same child who has to be pried from her bed on school days, was bouncing around telling us to get up. When I reminded her she didn't have school, she did climb into our bed for a little bit. But now she's ready to go-go-go. Some vacation. I wish she had a snooze button.
--Liz Fabian

life insurance for your babies

Just after Daniel was born - and I mean like within a month - I had a small life insurance policy on him. It's like $10 a month, and just carries enough to cover the exorbitant cost of a funeral.
Morbid? I prefer realistic. And why, a week before Christmas, am I telling you this?
We've had a tragic death in the family. My favorite uncle's only daughter passed away - we think of natural causes - at her college in Eastern Michigan. (www.video.woodtv.com)
And now her parents - business owners, smart, funny, loving people, are faced with not only the loss of their daughter, but at least a week of having their small-town business closed and having to deal with the cost of an autopsy and funeral. For anyone living paycheck-to-paycheck (what family with kids isn't) this could be a back-breaker.
It's certainly been a heartbreaker.
--Misty

No Bounty this holiday?

Is is just me, or did the holiday paper towels and napkins come and go already? It seems as though I saw some and thought, "I'll get that later." Are designer holiday napkins the latest Elmo tease for adults? That got-to-have item that quickly sells out and creates a furor? Please paper-products cartel, don't do this to me. I have too many deadlines to meet to add advanced paper-product purchasing to the list. Maybe I'm a little weird about my paper towels, but I like to pick out the pretty little prints. Light bulbs, holly and my all-time favorite - the Peanuts gang. There's just something about those little faces that can even brighten up cleaning the kitchen. Well, I've stocked up on another 9-pack of Bounty holiday designs and my husband is budgeting-out the rolls. Snowmen move to the back of the line. They last through the winter, he thinks. I've got news for him. The rolls won't last through the four calling birds of the fourth day of Christmas. (We celebrate all 12 and I'll tell you about that later.) Anyway, I keep looking for holiday napkins. I'm splurging on the high-dollar stuff this season. Holly Bounty where art thou?
-- Liz Fabian

Gentle with mommy

When I got home from the hospital yesterday, we showed Daniel "mommy's owies." HE has done well - better than I have - about respecting them and being careful. I think it helps that his aunt kim is here to wrestle and play with him.
--Misty

Barbie stoops to a new low

While decorating my Christmas tree, I got quite a surprise - doggie doo all over. There was some under the tree, on the floor under the table where I wrap presents and even on the table! "BARBIE! Your dog is pooping all over the house!," I should have exclaimed. Lucky for me, I'm talking about odorless tiny capsules that serve a dual-purpose in the fashion doll kingdom. Yes, moms and dads, Barbie has a dog and the dog does what dogs do-do. Lucky for the blonde babe who walks him, the package includes a pooper scooper to remove the brown ovals from the floor and put them in the doo-doo bin that funnels them right back into the "treat" box. Yes, there's a new concept of recycling at work here. Take that, Barbie's dog - "Eat treats and die." The doll and her doo-doo dog were one of Faith's favorite birthday presents. "Mommy, Barbie's dog really poops," she proudly noted. Although my 6-year-old loved it, be careful gift-buying people. Barbie is a little slack about the scooper and I'm worried about younger siblings swallowing the treats - think brown tic-tacs. They are probably too small for a choking hazard, but who wants their child eating fake doggie doo?
-- Liz Fabian

Christmas Chaos

If you haven't finished you Christmas shopping, I'm saying a little prayer for you.
I listen to my coworkers commiserate with each other about the crowds at the mall, and hear my roommate's story about finding a parking space and I am grateful I was forced to be finished early this year. Most years, if I'm not done by Thanksgiving, I finish up online.
See, every year I tend to pick a theme and everyone gets something from that company. One year, I actually wound up with a discount from CoffeeFool.com because I ordered so much. This year, it was Tastefully Simple. Everyone got a gift pack or a soup and bread bag. In years past, I've done candles (PartyLite, of course), scrapbooks or photo frames with pictures, and then there was the year everyone got clothes. That way, I kind of remember what I got everyone, so when I talk to them, I can say something intelligent - like "well, there's your New Year's dinner!"
Of course, now the cat's out of the bag, I'll have to come up with a new strategy.
--Misty

calling in the reinforcements

So my surgery is tomorrow, and we're all as ready as we are going to get. The house is clean, the laundry is done, there is food in the house. Daniel has been told about mommy's neck and doctors and hospitals - he even remembers the last time daddy took him to the hospital when he was sick - two years ago! And I've alerted my support system.
My mother and sister are on the road as I type. They left Virginia at some unGodly hour this a.m. Mom is amazing - I learned everything I know about cleaning and organizing from her. And Kim is a paralegal/office manager/nanny by profession. She's awesome with kids, and will some day have half a dozen to call her own. So Daniel is taken care of for at least a week. Beyond that, I've alerted my Phi Mu sisters, my coworkers, and Daniel's teachers of the proceedings.
So as I go into the operating room tomorrow, I'll at least know that my little family will be taken care of - and that's the biggest concern a mom has.
--Misty

Gifts for Grands

You and I both know that Grandparents are difficult to buy for. If they want something, they go out and get it. So here are the best ideas I can offer on a Friday morning:
Family portraits. A couple of Thanksgivings ago, every member of all four generations were actually going to be present at my grandmother's for the family Thanksgiving. So I hired a photographer. $100, and he came out, spen an hour taking group shots. The whole family, each generation with Grandma, each family group. Most photographers will post their shots on a Web site and whomever wants to can order whichever shots they want. The large group shot graces Grandma's living room still.
Memory books. One of my favorite Christmas memories is the year I swiped all my mom's old family photos and put together a photo album of me and my sister from birth on. She cried...But she still has the album, and every now and again I do it again - with pictures of Daniel through the past year.
Story books. A friend of the family spends his spare time typing up his memories from childhood. He tells the stories as though he's telling them to his kids, or his kids' kids. Then he gives copies of the collection to his mom and sisters for Christmas. They look forward to it each year.
Dinner baskets. My husband's grandparents really do have everything they want, so a couple of years ago I bought a bunch of fresh fruit and made a basket out of it. This year it's Tastefully Simple soup, bread and salad dressing. I know it's not going to go to waste, and it seems better than gift cards for dinner out. Grocery stores actually sell whole dinners - turkey or ham, sides and dessert - all you have to do is pick it up.
Gifts to charity. One year I made a donation to charities that were near and dear to each set of grandparents. The charity usually will send out a card letting them know a donation was made in their name. They were tickled.
Got a better idea? Click on "comment" to share it with us!
--Misty

Tacky, tacky, tacky

I was happy to see this morning's edition of the Telegraph address those blow-up holiday decorations. "Tacky or Terrific?" was the headline. In my world, there's not much tackier! I mean, where did these things come from? What happened to candles in the windows, lights on the house, maybe some ornaments hanging from the blue spruce in the front yard or a star on the roof representing the star (or comet) the Wise Men followed?
I was driving around the weekend after Thanksgiving and told someone "It looks like the Christmas Spirit threw up" as I passed one yard where every plastic figure and inflatable do-dad in existence has popped up on the lawn. Think I'm exagerating? Take a drive. Make a list of the tackiest decorations you see and send it to me - or better yet, take a picture and e-mail it to the Houston Peach! houstonpeach@macontel.com
--Misty

Two to one

As I read Liz's post about Faith and the glue gun, I laughed out loud. Since Daniel learned to walk we've been having those moments with him. "You did WHAT?!?!?" But that's why there are (ideally) two parents. Also why we stopped at ONE kid. Two of us, one of him, maybe we'll be able to keep up.
Some of Daniel's more memorable behind-my-back moments:
He and the little girl next door ran away together. They made it to the next street over. They were three.
He woke up at one in the morning and decided to make eggs. When I woke up, he had the frying pan out and two eggs cracked in the middle of the living room floor. He was two.
He discovered the vaseline jar and proceeded to coat himself and the floor around him. Water in the bath beaded up on the kid for a week, but he had the softest skin in the world. Photos exist of this adventure.
While getting in the car to go to school one morning, he decided he didn't want to go. He bolted under the deck and laughed like a maniac when I crawled under the house to pull him out.
Like I said, it takes both of us to keep up with this one.
Misty

Too much information, yet not enough

This is not the sentence you want to hear from a 6-year-old. "I plugged in the glue gun," Faith told her father, who was working in the yard. SHE plugged it in? How did we get to this point so fast? Now that Faith is armed with plenty of knowledge, she's dangerous. Sure it's great she's becoming self-sufficient, but there is still so much to learn. Number 1 - which her father immediately taught her the other day - she is NEVER allowed to plug in the glue gun! It's reminiscent of her impromptu haircuts, but much scarier. Hair grows back, skin grafts can leave scars. She is so misguidedly confident and sure of herself. How do I reel her in without curbing her enthusiasm?
-- Liz Fabian

Tiny tears cut to the heart

My schedule didn't allow me to attend the funeral of fallen firefighter Steven Solomon, but the front page photograph of today's Telegraph took me right there. With sunlight kissing her face, little N'Kya Solomon accepted her father's badge in her tiny hand. The little girl, who looks like she is barely three, will live the rest of her life without her daddy. The same is true for her three brothers and their mother, Kennetha Solomon, who lost her best friend. She spoke of her wonderful husband's love and support for her and the children. "I know he was tough, but that was because he loved y'all so much and he wanted y'all to grow up and be respectful people," she told the children in front of more than 1,000 people who came to honor their daddy's sacrifice. They all have my respect and I will especially pray for strength for that mother, the widow of a good man who died in service to others. Thank you to all who selflessly put themselves in harm's way for the greater good.
-- Liz Fabian

flickr flashes

Have you ever spent time on the flickr Web site? I love seeing what people put up, especially since I know a lot of photographers - both amateur and professional. Best part? it's free.
Misty

Is today Christmas Day?

Tired of answering the same question four times a day, Daniel and I made a paper chain this weekend. Every night before bed he gets to tear off a red or green strip. When he tears up the last one, the next day will be Christmas. And stop asking if it's your birthday - that's in June!
--Misty

early to bed

Another side effect of Daniel's ongoing growth spurt: when he's not eating everything in sight, he's sleeping. He fell asleep right after dinner Friday, and slept until after 8 Saturday morning! Saturday night, he curled up with me on the couch at 7:30 ans we were both in bed by 8 - me with a migraine. Again no one stirred before 8:30 Sunday morning. Nice. Now I just have to hope half the stuff under the tree is new clothes!
--Misty

Consignment shops

The weather is playing games with us and we're into the post-Thanksgiving shopping madness. So when money gets tight, check out your local consignment shops. Sweetpea's in Macon, Baby Country in the Chick fil A shopping center on Watson here in Warner Robins, and Baby Station of Byron. In fact, Baby Station is having a sale -
Cribs w/mattress – $70 - $105
Strollers – $10 - $25
Swings – $25 - $45
Exersaucers/walkers – $10 - $30
Clothing (Newborn to 6/6X)….All 50% Off
PERSONALIZED CHILDREN’S BOOKS
Hard Cover Keepsakes with your child & friends as the main character(s)
Ø GREAT Christmas Gifts
Ø Many Titles to choose from
Ø Book(s) can be picked up from store in 2 days or we offer FREE SHIPPING to anywhere in the U.S.
Baby Station is located at
120 Hamilton Pointe Drive (just behind Wendy’s and Zaxby’s)
Bring in a copy of this post for an additional $5.00 off your purchase of $25.00 or more!
--Misty

Consignment shops

The weather is playing games with us and we're into the post-Thanksgiving shopping madness. So when money gets tight, check out your local consignment shops. Sweetpea's in Macon, Baby Country in the Chick fil A shopping center on Watson here in Warner Robins, and Baby Station of Byron. In fact, Baby Station is having a sale -
Cribs w/mattress – $70 - $105
Strollers – $10 - $25
Swings – $25 - $45
Exersaucers/walkers – $10 - $30
Clothing (Newborn to 6/6X)….All 50% Off
PERSONALIZED CHILDREN’S BOOKS
Hard Cover Keepsakes with your child & friends as the main character(s)
Ø GREAT Christmas Gifts
Ø Many Titles to choose from
Ø Book(s) can be picked up from store in 2 days or we offer FREE SHIPPING to anywhere in the U.S.
Baby Station is located at
120 Hamilton Pointe Drive (just behind Wendy’s and Zaxby’s)
Bring in a copy of this post for an additional $5.00 off your purchase of $25.00 or more!
--Misty

Christmas shopping frustrations

Guest blog from Angela of Horse pursuits -
Warning: Angry mom...
So I have been looking for this Nintendo Wii thing since the day after Thanksgiving. I've been to Buford, near the Mall of Georgia, and it seems that every place is sold out.
I've also been placing calls to Gamestop, EB Games, Target, Wal-Mart, etc. every day. I had just started calling yesterday when the Wal-Mart on Harrison Road said they had some. I asked the lady to hold it til I got there. She said she couldn't. I jumped in my car and drove out there from downtown. Took me about 15 minutes. And yes, they had some left. There was a gentleman in front of me in line who wanted to buy two. I just wanted the one (although I'm sure I could've sold it for a higher price, I'm not into that kinda market).
The cashier couldn't get the Wii's to ring up. It kept saying No Sell Item. I told the guy (after about 15 minutes of this nonsense) just to put $249.48 on the dang register and let me pay for the thing. So they go through this whole process of calling managers, assistant managers, blah blah. Finally, after about me standing there for at least 45 minutes waiting for them to figure out what was going on an associate tells me that his manager said they can't sell them until Dec. 3.
The manager was trying to walk away when I asked why he was going to hold onto them. He said that there was a new flyer coming out on Dec. 3 and that they wouldn't be selling any until then. I said, well Target just got some in this morning and they are selling theirs (to which he shrugged and told me again he wasn't selling any until Dec. 3) And I said, well I've already been waiting here an hour for you to figure out what was going on, can I get a raincheck so I can get one and he says, no you have to stand in line like everyone else. Can we all say BOYCOTT? I will NEVER go to that Wal-Mart again. The district manager will be getting a nice little phone call from me.
The thing that really irritates me is that I wasn't only going to buy the Wii, but another controller and a game, which puts my total purchase above $300. That I was willing to give them THAT DAY. But they refused my purchase, basically and told me I was outta luck. I'd like to use a profanity there but I will refrain since this is a family blog.
So my hunt for this stupid game system is still on. Two calls this morning and nothing. But I will not be visiting any Wal-Marts anytime soon, you can bet your bottom dollar on that one!
--Angela

vaccuum, rake or shovel?

Some parts of the house, like the middle of the living room, need only a vaccuuming to make them presentable. Occasional spot remover and the strategic placement of a throw rug keeps the carpet looking clean, if no longer new.
Other parts of the house should be tackled with a garden rake. Daniel's room comes to mind. Legos, matchbox cars and Thomas and Friends make getting from door to bedside hazardous, and cleaning a joke.
Then there are the areas that should be approached with nothing less sturdy than a shovel. The laundry room and kitchen sink come to mind...the socks and dirty dishes have been breeding again.
--Misty

a.m. blues

I've figured out why it's so hard to get up in the mornings. Because no matter how good I feel when I put my feet on the floor, two hours later the whole day is shot.
First, there's the fight with Daniel about getting up, dressed, fed and out the door on time. Invariably, we're running late and as I get in the car I know I've left breakfast dishes on the counter and wasn't the laundry crawling up the wall? So that's what I'll be coming home to.
Then there's the clingy Daniel when I drop him off at school. Fifteen minutes of sobbing and hugging later, I'm back in the car feeling like a heel.
I'm greeted at work by the coffe klatch complaining long and loud about their bad night, their illnesses, the general incompetence of their coworkers, and anything else they can think of. The negativity spreads faster than the flu and by the time I sit down at my desk, I just want to crawl back in bed and start over. *sigh.* Can't I just skip right to the part where I thank God I have a job I like and get to work?
--Misty

22 "pinches" of love

Faith will be turning 6 this week. With every day, she's becoming more sure of herself and less the little girl who needed us for everything. While birthdays are happy times, it's a little melancholy for me. In the delivery room as the doctor first said, "It's a girl," I feared the angst that often occurs between mother and daughter. I know the day is coming when we will be at odds over her friends, clothing and curfews. We've already done battle over some little things, so I know the first all-out war can't be far off. I'm also lamenting the loss of the cute little jumbled words that she said while getting a grip on language. She's reading now and soon will be adding new words faster than she outgrows her pants. So it was refreshing the other day when she sought my advice on whether her baby doll needed milk or orange juice. "Milk," I said definitively. "She's too little for orange juice." Faith disappeared and came back and proudly declaring that the baby was "18 feet" long. "That's inches," I corrected her from the next room. "OK, she's 18-pinches," Faith said. I clarified the pronounciation as I chuckled to myself. "That's still too little," I told her. "You were 22-inches long when you were born." How cute, I thought as I had a mental picture of her at "22 pinches." I could see myself lovingly pinching her from head to toe on her soft baby skin. Kind of like the way your aunt grabs your cheek, but nicer.
My baby is almost 6. The first trimester of parenting is over. Let's coast through until 12 when things will get hairy again for the final six years until she's 18. Somebody pinch me.
--Liz Fabian

What else I'm thankful for

There is such a rich abundance of blessings in my life right now, I could blog until Christmas. Here are some of the things that come to mind: A forest full of colorful leaves still on the trees in my neighborhood, the white blooms in the backyard on the bushes that I mistakenly thought were camelias, a larger table for this year's dinner (although there will be fewer loved ones around it), enough pinecones in the front yard for our craft project, the flowers my husband brought home from the grocery store that perfectly compliment the bouquets I bought, a holiday celebrating cooking, eating, family and gratitude, a full stomach that's second to an overflowing heart filled with love for family and friends.

— Liz Fabian

Time to make the crust

Even after arthritis knurled her knuckles, Mom would roll out the pie crust. While she mastered the rolling of the dough, it's one of the few kitchen tasks that still intimidates me. But this Thanksgiving, she's not here to make the pie. In recent years before her death, I think even Mom bought her pie shells at the store. Lingering in my mind like the white puffs of flour clinging to my shirt, is my memory of her and the wooden rolling pin that sometimes squeaked as it turned. Around holidays and any time she wanted to please us, Mom would bake a pie. Each red circle on her rolling cloth marked the circumference needed for different size pans. My task - the first on my list this morning - was to roll the pie dough in a 12" circle. I had made the dough around midnight and then read the recipe's hours-long process of getting it ready for the oven. So, I slept on it. As I looked at that 4-inch lump on the counter, I knew it was either going to wind up cradling a triple chocolate chunk pecan pie or thrown up against a wall in despair. I prayed for the former. Eureka. It worked, even with a nasty fumble on my part in transfering the dough. Thanks Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.
-- Liz

What I'm thankful for

In the middle of rushing around in the kitchen, I asked my daughter if she knew what I was most thankful for this Thanksgiving. "Me," she said with a big smile. Faith is the answer, but I don't mean my daughter's name. For me, the inner peace that comes from above is at the top of my list. That tranquility can often be drowned out by the frenzy of the season, but I'm going to pray for spiritual strength to carry me through. When I feel the tension rising into my throat, I'll stop and take a deep breath. Maybe this will be the year I can practice what I preach.

— Liz Fabian

To Barbie or not to Barbie...

... That is the question. There she was all in her pink-winged splendor. A fabulously costumed Barbie of Mermaidia fame. Sure Mattell, upgrade Elina just when it's time to buy the TWELVE Dancing Princesses. Thanks a lot. Nope, the Barbie train stops right here, I thought. This year. Already, Faith's room looks like a mess of mass casualties from some sort of fairytale disaster. Dozens of bodies lie about in varying shades of dress and undress as if a twister ripped the clothes from their toned plastic torsos. But still, I ponder whether I'm going to grab one of those bargains - already discounted by more than 50-percent. A true bargain is buying only what you need, so I snatch the Barbie classroom set-up for a birthday gift for one of Faith's younger friends and I'm off. Faith will learn to keep her dolls dressed and tidy, or Elina's sleeping at somebody else's house Christmas night.
— Liz Fabian

worth the trip

One of the things I like best about having a "home" business like PartyLite is that I can work from anywhere. I'm three states from home and I'm taking orders. Guess what that means? I can write off the whole trip! And at 48 cents a mile, 1,200 miles is a nice write-off. Fabulous.
--Misty

The best-laid plans

Every other time, we drive to Virginia at night and Daniel sleeps. This time,he's going through a growth spurt. We started out at dark and he fell asleep an hour down the road. Great! Then he got up at 10:30. Uh-oh. "Mu tummy says it's time to get up." He proceeded to eat his way through three states, finally falling back asleep for the last two hours of the 12-hour trip. So we're all still recovering.
--Misty

A matter of life and death

Somewhere between bud and full-bloom, the rose died and dried. Rare are the ones that open fully before the petals begin to wilt. But I wanted this rose to be the most beautiful I'd ever seen. I wish it had lived lived longer. The same is true of my mother, from whose casket the flower came. Did she fully bloom or did the thorns of her life prematurely puncture her dreams? In recent days, my thoughts have turned to her and the life she lived. While tending to the flower arrangements that came after she died, I realized there can be beauty in death. Sure, decaying leaves and stems of once brilliant bouquets can stink and cloud the water. But other flowers barely wither before they die. While my rose lost its color, it kept the shape of a much younger bloom. It's frozen in time with an essence of eternal youth. The photographs I've discovered of my mother in younger days do the same for her. While my impromptu tears still surprise me, there's a deep comfort in knowing my mother died peacefully. There's true beauty in that - and the timeless rose beside her portrait.
— Liz Fabian

Rough and Tumble Part III

Burns: They scare kids the most, I think, because the REALLY hurt, momma! But how bad is the burn and how do you take care of it?
A third-degree burn is the most serious of the three categories of burns. The skin, which may appear white or charred, is seriously injured — even below the surface. A second-degree burn creates blistering and swelling. A first-degree burn, which is the mildest, can involve redness and slight swelling. For this kind of quickly cool the area by submerging it in cool water for at least 20 minutes. If the burn is on your child's face, apply a cool, clean, water-soaked towel and call the doctor.
If the burn starts to blister, simply apply an antiseptic ointment and cover the area loosely with a clean nonstick bandage. Never try to break a blister. Blisters are an important part of the skin's healing process. Don't put butter, grease, lotion, or powder on the burn. These can increase the risk of infection. And don't use ice, which can further damage the skin. You can give your child acetaminophen or ibuprofen to ease the pain. A mild, first-degree burn may heal in just a few days, but a second-degree burn can take a couple of weeks.
If the injury is an electrical burn or if the burn is on the face, hands, or genitals, call your child's physician immediately after providing first aid.
How should I treat a chemical burn?
Burns from lye, acids, or other harsh chemicals may look much like a sunburn. Remove your child's clothing, cutting it away if necessary to avoid spreading the chemical to other parts of the body. Rinse the burned areas with cool running water for 20 minutes, and wash gently with soap. Don't apply lotions or ointments to the burned skin. If your child swallowed or inhaled any of the chemical, call Poison Control immediately for instructions. If the chemical splashed into his eyes, flush the eyes for 20 minutes with water poured from a pitcher. If the burned area is large, cover it with a clean, damp sheet. Call the doctor immediately after providing first aid.

Again, thanks to ParentCenter. Find more information on a variety or topics at http://parentcenter.babycenter.com

--Misty

Rough and Tumble Part II

From babies falling off the bed to older kids playing "touch" football (yeah, right), a hit to the head is possibly the most scary of injuries. After all, we're moms, not neurosurgeons.
If a child hits his head as a result of a major collision or a fall from any serious distance — he falls down the stairs or gets whacked with a bat or ball, for example — you should talk with his doctor. She'll want to know the details of the accident and whether your child lost consciousness, is excessively irritable or crying, or is vomiting or lethargic. She may tell you to bring him to the office or to the emergency room. If your child has had a little bump, though — he topples off his tricycle or clunks heads with his feisty sibling — you'll just want to keep an eye on him for a while.
Of course, it's still important to watch your child closely for signs of problems, such as severe headache, vomiting, changes in speech, or difficulty with walking or coordination.
If your child seems overly groggy or lethargic, or if you're worried for any reason, trust your instincts and call the doctor for advice. If at any point you're unable to wake your child, take him to the emergency room.

Again, information thanks to ParentCenter
--Misty

Rough and tumble play

What's a mom to do if her precious darling gets hurt playing with all those cousins over the holidays? Here's the first part of Misty's Holiday Survival Guide - First Aid for Moms:
BAD SPRAINS AND STRAINS
To reduce pain and swelling, remember RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation. Keep the affected area elevated and as immobile as possible for 24 to 48 hours. Apply a cold pack (or a bag of frozen peas) for ten to 15 minutes at a time, wrapping it in a towel first to avoid frostbite. Do this as soon after the injury as possible, and repeat at least three times a day for a day or two. Don't apply any heat for the first 48 hours.
Keep excess fluid from accumulating around a sprained joint by compressing and elevating it. Starting below the joint, wrap an elastic bandage loosely, so the circulation isn't cut off. Elevate the injured area above the level of the heart by propping it up on pillows. Of course, if the injury is bad enough to keep a kid down for 24 to 48 hours, do see a doctor as soon as possible to rule out something more serious.

Information from ParentCenter
--Misty

Just a suggestion

Between an article I read recently and the usual uptick of purse-snatchings that come with the holiday season, I've about decided to stop carrying a purse.
Imagine, if you will, the most germ-infested, salmonella and e-coli carrying item in your wardrobe. Now imagine yourself putting it on the table where you and your family eat every day. That's right, it's your purse.
Think about it - your purse goes with you everywhere, from the car to the restaurant bathroom. Most of the time, you tuck it away on the floor - where people are walking and spilling, where animals are walking and doing business! But then you come home and drop it - along with your keys, mail and packages - on the table or counter. Eeew.
So I'm thinking that if I have to go out, my credit card and driver's license tucked into my jeans or shirt pocket will be all I need to carry. Checks have all the personal information a store clerk would need to steal my identity as it is. Plus, that leaves my hands free to carry more packages!
--Misty

Up all night

Burglars casing our house would give up pretty quick. There are too many people coming and going and we're up pretty much 24/7. Case in point: I know Chris was up until at least 12:30 this morning. Our roommate was probably up later than that. Daniel got me up at 4 and I couldn't get back to sleep, so I cleaned the kitchen. Chris got up at 5:30, and the roommate was getting up as Daniel and I left. He'll go to work about the time Chris gets home from his morning shift. Chris will leave again between 2 and 3 and Daniel and I come home around 4. Is it any wonder my light bill is high? That house is rockin' all day (and night) long!
--Misty

On the stands now

If you haven't seen the November issue of Parents Magazine, it's worth your time. Not only does it include their picks for best toys of the year, but there's a full section on cold and flu remedies - home and OTC. What works, and why (BRAT diet anyone?) And for those of us who've just been through that experience, it was quite informative. So get it while you still can.
--Misty

Theft is never charming

Shopping can be a sport, and I just lost a game. Throughout the year, I try to find gifts for people during those rare occaisions when I venture into a store for something else. My daughter's 6th birthday is coming up, and I found a perfect gift while recently buying trouser socks. The girl's answer to Legos is Clikits, little jeweled adornments that girls fasten to a variety of things. This package happened to include winter greeting cards. Great timing for her late November birthday. It was made even more perfect that it was on clearance and rang up even cheaper than I expected. Boy, was I proud. I'd bagged a big bargain. Well, as I was getting ready to wrap the gift, I noticed the tape on the bottom of the box had been slit. Never a good sign. Now I know why it was clearanced so low, all of the charm pieces were missing! Not charming at all. Hell hath no fury like a bargain shopper scorned.
-- Liz Fabian

Have you lost your mind?

Regular readers will remember me saying that parents are a pretty self-policing lot. Case in point - to the mom in the red Blazer/Explorer on Skyway this morning: Have you lost your mind? Put those kids in the back seat and buckle them up!
--Misty

No longer leading a charmed life

Beside my daughter's cereal bowl was a cluster of colored clumps. "I don't like the marshmallows," Faith said after removing the "Lucky Charms" from her breakfast. She doesn't like the marshmallows - is she crazy? The marshmallows were all I wanted to eat when I was a child. I dug out all the hearts, moons, stars and little clovers, but wanted to leave the bits of grain behind. Because I had to beg my Mom to buy that magical cereal, I had to agree to eat it all. Boy, have I changed. Faith wouldn't have even gotten to taste them had the box not been a mystery penny-coupon item. But when I recently tried the little pastel shapes, I realized my daughter had a point. They had a styrofoam-like texture when dry and a gummy-gloppy-gooey consistency in milk. Have my taste buds matured or did the little leprechaun lose the old family recipe?
— Liz Fabian

Thinking long-term

I always take Daniel with me when I vote. Not only does he get a sticker out of the deal, I'm hoping that when he's older it will be one of those memories that sticks with him. You know, when he turns 18 and votes for the first time on his own, he can say "I've been doing this with my mom ever since I can remember."
--Misty

don't turn your back!

I have a laundry mystery - and it's not the missing sock.
Yesterday, I did seven loads of laundry. Seven! And there are only three of us! And yes, I had done laundry mid-week. So where did it all come from?
I think it's multiplying behind my back.
Good morning, Monday.
--Misty

Making fun of the weather

Okay, I know this is Georgia, and it's only the first bit of November, but it's chilly out there, people! As I dropped Daniel off at preschool this morning, I saw toddlers in t-shirts, teachers in flip-flops, and a mom with her belly button ring on display. These people are just making fun of the weather. I, for one, was happy to pull out my favorite light sweater to get going this morning! Must be those Michigan roots showing.
--Misty

Everywhere a sign

Just in time for our annual pilgrimage north, a few signs popped up to let us know 12 hours in the car with a four-year-old will be well worth it.
First, if any of you caught "Jeopardy" last night, Liz is the hostess with the mostest. We make the trip for three reasons: my dad's birthday, Thanksgiving with my parents, and Liz's alternative thanksgiving. I've been going since the second year, and Chris and I have missed only one year - and we moped about it all day. So seeing her on TV was just one hint that we had better not miss this year!
Second, Parent Center sent me an e-mail this morning about making family vacations the best they can be. While they didn't offer MY favorite advice - travel at night while the kiddies sleep - they did offer some tips I'll pass along:
Make an emergency list - It's not what you think. It's a sheet listing your name and address, your child's name, your doctor's information and health insurance provider. Also list any allergies your child has and next-of-kin information. While it seems scary, filling something like this out, it's one of thoes things that if you need it, you'll really need it. Like my "Medic Alert" tag. While I hate wearing it, the only reason I'll need it is if I really need it. You know?
Plan activities that will give your children time to play - While historic Yorktown and the Revolutionary War and Civil War battlefields are amazing to see and awe-inspiring, they are also wide-open fields - perfect for running off a 4-year-old's energy. Also, we stay close to both a huge city park and an elementary school, so playgrounds are a quick trip back to sanity for both mom and boy.
Plan a mom-and-dad night. In our case, we're going to see Grandma, who is only too happy to babysit one night a year. So Chris and I can slip off to the IMAX or downtown Hampton for a date night. But if you're going off as a family, be sure that when you come back, you build in "decompression time" away from the kids.
Come home early. No, really. If you have to back at work on Monday, come home Saturday. That way you have a whole day to do laundry, lay around the house, and go to bed early so you DON'T feel like you need "a vacation from your vacation!"
What are your best travel tips? Click on "Comments" below to send me (and the other moms) what works for you.
--Misty

Caught "Misty-eyed"

Misty must have been looking in our windows when she wondered whether anyone broke into their candy for trick-or-treaters before Tuesday. Last year, I found discounted candy a few weeks before Halloween. The store was clearing stock to make way for prettier-packaged stuff that was made especially for costumed kiddies. Problem was, it didn't survive. When I went looking for my stash, I learned my husband discovered it shortly after I bought it and had devoured it in nibbles along the way. This year, I knotted the plastic bags, but he still got into it right before Halloween. "We never have trick-or-treaters," was his excuse. Well, we didn't have trick-or-treaters, so now we have the replacement bags to eat, too. I couldn't resist a $1 Reese's multi-pack and a bag of $100,000 bars. Just in case we did have kids, I'd hate to give them power bars. Besides, the $100 Grand find was really pennies on the dollar. A girl's dream - a really big bargain AND it's chocolate. But Misty inspired me. I'll take the leftover candy to work. (But, I'm holding back a couple of $100,000.)
— Liz Fabian