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No, this blog is not going R-rated. I debated about whether or not to share this story, but it is simply too funny to keep to myself. Those of us with young children know how difficult it is for them to form certain sounds. Jacob, at six years old, visits with a speech therapist usually once a week. He still pronounces L words like Y words and cannot easily distinguish between the two. For example, I would yike a yawyipop. (I would like a lollipop). When he asked me recently to help him find an object beginning with the letter D for show and tell, he became agitated when I produced a toy dragonfly. I said D, Mom!, he yelled, feeling frustrated with me. Jeragonfly starts with a J! Ja Ja Jeragonfly! Say the word to yourself, and you’ll understand his confusion.

This is phonetics, the early stages of reading and writing. I don’t know how other school districts teach the two skills, but at my kids’ school, they are encouraged to write words based on the sounds they hear. It makes for amusing copy, and this practice has revealed some very interesting insights as to how Jacob’s mind works that may or may not be signs of an underlying disability. He’s still being tested for this and that and everything in between, and the process is painfully slow. I won’t go into detail about any of that today, though, mainly because I am still in-the-dark about much of it all myself.

The other day, Bridget and I were reading one of her favorite board books, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. In one of the pictures there is a child holding a stick. Bridget exclaimed, Wow! That certainly is a big dick! While I’ve grown accustomed to Bridget’s outbursts of Jesus Christ and have even managed to stifle my juxtaposed emotions of both horror and amusement and remain almost entirely neutral, her expletive big dick caught me completely off guard. Yes, Bridget! It certain is a big sssssssstick, I replied.

Now, if this were an R-rated blog, which it isn’t, I might be inclined to conclude this story with what Bridget said to my husband the other morning upon seeing him step out of the shower. But this isn’t that type of blog.

As I’m writing this post, snow is falling, and it’s expected to fall for the next 48 hours. I consider this retribution for having stated in a recent letter to my grandparents the scorn I have for winter weather. I will be glad when Winter is gone completely, I wrote. Yay, Winter; I despise thee. Ye who makes my skin dry and nose trickle constantly, thou art the bane of all seasons. Ye who cancels school so that I am left to entertain three children while trying to work, I loathe thy deplorable manners. *edited to add - we got about 10 inches*

Um. I’m not sure what all of that was about just now. I blame it on the Mexican tortilla soup I’m eating; the spiciness has transfered directly from my fingertips to this post, although I’m not sure there’s anything particularly spicy about Olde World English. It’s best just to forget it and revel in my merry disposition. Okay . . .

Stephanie wanted to know about my garden. Yes! Would you believe that gardening brings me such joy to the extent that, if I am caught unawares by the sheer beauty and bounty of my lovely patch of earth, I can be reduced to tears? Well, it’s either that or my allergies, but I’m inclined to believe it is the former and not the latter. Anyway, it’s getting to be that time of year here in Central New York, where we begin planning for our summer gardens. I’ll spare you the details of providing actual links to the items on my list, because I know few, if any, of you would actually click through. If you are inclined to search for these varieties yourself, then I’ll suggest Burpee.

Tomatoes - Razzle Dazzle and Honey Bunch

Cucumbers - Sweeter Yet, hybrid

Lettuce - EZ Serve (Hannah requested a butter variety, and this one promises a buttery flavor and easy picking)

Beans - Heavyweight, this is a low bush variety vs one that grows tall and needs strong support

Peas - Sugarbon, another low bush variety

Peppers - Flavorburst

Carrots - Short n Sweet, about 4 inches in length

Strawberries - Jewel

Raspberries - Heritage

Sunflowers - a monster variety that grows 10-15 ft tall (I’ll be constructing a secret hideaway for the kids)

I already have onions and various herb seeds. One thing that I won’t be planting this year, however, is summer squash and zucchini. I am the only one in my family who truly likes these two vegetables, so I figured I’d give them a pass this year. We have decided to extend the garden to make room for the raspberry bushes and to create a little sitting area for the kids. Also, I’m letting the areas surrounding the raised beds cover with grass (or rather, weeds). The first year we had our garden, we had beautiful bark mulch along the path. But I’ll tell you one thing, it’s a b*tch to keep weed free. I just don’t have the time to maintain it properly. Gardening is a time-consuming hobby, and it can become a full-time job if you let it.

Last year’s garden was just despicable, and I truly mourned it. I believe it was a combination of factors: I used a seed supplier other than Burpee (I won’t make that mistake again this year), we started the seeds under a different window (away from curious hands, although we’ll have a curious cat with which to contend this year), the compost I received was shite (quite literally), the weather was not terrific. So many things can affect the outcome of your garden. Sometimes, all you can do is hope for the best.

The first picture above is how our garden looked that first year in early June. Here in Central New York, I don’t put anything out until the end of May, at the earliest, and even then I’m anxious about overnight temps. I’ve not tried to make cold frames, although I may try it this year to extend the growing season. Our actual growing space is about 20×8 ft. You can see that we’ve surrounded the garden with deer fencing, as they are a big problem in our area. This year, we’ll have to surround the bottom of the fencing with wire mesh to keep out the rabbits.

The second picture is of Bridget (look how small she is at not quite 1 yr!) next to a bed of lettuce in late June (notice the long sleeves). Bridget can be just as bad as any rodent. She loved to toddle into the garden and eat lettuce, tomatoes, and beans. Truly, this did my heart good to have at least one of my children interested in eating vegetables directly from the backyard. You couldn’t keep Bridget out of the garden!

The above picture was taken in August. Can you see Hannah and Bridget? By this time, the garden was wildly out-of-control. It was a truly spectacular sight! That would be the squash, zucchini, and tomatoes.

Speaking of tomatoes, we had TONS. I cooked, pureed, and froze at least half to use to make our own sauce. Oh, and nothing is better than a BLT sandwich made with homemade bread, local bacon, and fresh lettuce and tomatoes directly from the garden. Is your mouth watering? This last picture shows what I would gather on almot a daily basis. Yes, we were lucky! Stay tuned for more garden posts . . .

I hope you all have enjoyed reading the promotion posts as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. The creative talent that is out there continues to amaze me, and I feel very priveleged to share a little bit of it with you each week. If you would like me to write a promotion post for you, simply read my terms. Likewise, I hope you will take a few minutes to browse through the independent designers and business owners on the Support Entrepreneurs page. I’ve visited their websites and etsy stores, and their work is amazing. Please consider supporting one of these fine artisans before making a purchase at a big-box retailer.

I’m getting ready to offer another tier to my promotions post, which will hopefully mean more exposure for you. Stay tuned for details.

On that same note, I hope you will meet me here on Thursday, March 6th, for an exciting announcement about a new monthly feature. If you’ve got a little girl in the house, or you know of a little girl, you won’t want to miss this!

Last but not least, I’d like to congratulate the winner of the Naked-Jewelry giveaway, Kristi from Interrupted Wanderlust and the winner of the katelynjane giveaway, Babz.

While toddler tantrums may be inevitable, there are a few things that you, the ever-astute parent, can do to prevent one from getting out of control. Chances are that your toddler will already be in the early “wind-up” stages of the tantrum before you even recognize it, so you’ll have to act quickly to diffuse the situation.

Feed her. My children graze, and while the practice of leaving a small dish of food and a cup of liquid on the table at all times isn’t palatable to every family, it works for mine. Yes, we do sit down for family meals; however, I have found that a constant source of nourishment, whether it be in the form of peanut butter smeared on crackers or simply a handful of raisins, makes for a happy child. My father lived by a strict meal schedule and, transitioning from a home in which food was readily available to a home in which I was afraid to ask for something to eat, made for a constantly-hungry kid. I would sneak off to my neighbor’s house, and we would raid her kitchen of Spam and Oreo cookies. Ugh. We were eight, though, and lacking in any type of culinary skill. 

But imagine if your toddler felt ravenous for most of the day? Speaking from personal experience, I can get a little whacked out and *mean* when I am hungry. It’s best to keep the blood sugar on an even level all day, as far as I’m concerned. Aside from keeping a small dish of non-perishable snacks on the table, I offer my toddler an alternative snack every 1.5 to 2 hours. This type of small meal usually consists of a bowl of instant oatmeal, a container of yogurt, cheese cubes, applesauce, cold cereal - something that is relatively healthy and easy to prepare.

Give her time to relax. I’m going to risk landing in hot water with over-zealous parents, but I can’t stand over-scheduling kids. I once had a friend who had her two children on such a tight extracurricular schedule that the poor kids couldn’t breathe. I used to wonder if she scheduled so many activities because she, herself, was bored. In my opinion, toddlers don’t need to have their play structured. Free time is called that for a reason; it should be unstructured. Outside of attending preschool a few times a week, which is enough structure for a tiny tot, why not just let them run around in the backyard, play in the sandbox, or make mud pies? Do three-year-old toddlers really need to learn the violin (my husband was one of those Suzuki kids, and he doesn’t have fond memories of afternoons spent in a chair with a tiny violin propped underneath his chin).

When Hannah was not much older than Bridget, I enrolled her in a tap/ballet class and was appalled at the formality of it. Hannah spent each class in the corner, spinning in circles, so we promptly left and never returned. Jacob had a similar experience a few years ago when he took a gymnastics class. I understand the need for structure in order to prevent injury, but these toddlers were forced to sit on the “white line” like little robots and wait their turn to bounce once on the trampoline. For $100 per session, I decided I’d buy my own trampoline and have some real fun with my son.

“Relaxing” also means giving your toddler the opportunity to be completely lazy. I go crazy if I can’t unwind by the television each night. I’m not one of those people who can fall asleep with a book; I require a total mind-numbing experience. Therefore, I am never going to be one of those parents who bans the television, even if watching tv is not recommended for children under two. Honestly, I don’t see the harm in playing a 30-minute video for your toddler each day. I need it for my own sanity just as much as Bridget needs it for a little pacification. *my opinion only*

Distract her. Whenever Bridget starts to have a meltdown and it doesn’t appear that a snack or quiet moment will work, I’ll do anything and everything to convince her that she’s, indeed, a very happy girl and we’re having loads of fun. Usually this means me blasting the radio and dancing like a fool, performing acrobatics, or singing a horribly out-of-tune song. Other times “distraction” means suggesting a favorite activity, such as finger paints or clay.

Love her. Sometimes your toddler just needs and extra cuddle and some undivided attention to help her feel better. Grab a book and have a quiet moment. Go on a little outside adventure. Have a big tickle session. Let your toddler know that you value her and your time together.

Let her be. If you’ve done everything you can think of to prevent a toddler tantrum and it looks as if nothing will work, then just let her be. Let her scream, cry, and stomp her feet. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your toddler expressing her anger, frustration, or sadness, so give her permission and a little bit of room to do so. Do not become upset with her for acting out. Empathize. Validate her feelings, and then be available to hold her close when she is finished.

Come back next week when we talk about . . . . dun dun DUN . . . . the dreaded PUBLIC tantrum! Oh yes. It will happen to you, too. MWA HA HA HA!

I imagine Tracey was one of the popular girls in school, a friend to everyone. In fact, Tracey says her greatest accomplishment thus far, aside from her family, is that she is simply a good person. Whereas another may measure achievement by the size of her bank account or the number of comments on her blog, Tracey measures her success by strength of character.

I admire her for that.

Tracey has been blogging at Just Another Mommy Blog for almost two years, but her blog title is a bit of a misnomer. When reading Tracey’s posts, you realize quickly that she has substance and staying power; she’s more than just anything. When so many bloggers seem to come and go, you get the feeling that Tracey will become one of the great ones and stick around for a long time to offer her insightful personal anecdotes.

Tracey’s life is similar to a lot of ours: drag the big kids out of bed in the morning, get them fed and off to school, play with the little one and tidy the house. Beyond the normalcy, however, is a hint of creative passion that Tracey is now rediscovering, particularly as it relates to painting, photography, and theater. At this point, Tracey’s dusting off old canvases, investing in new brushes, and wondering where she can paint so that her two-year-old won’t destroy her work!

Tracey would also love to travel extensively one day, “to backpack through mountains, to swim with dolphins, to eat unrecognizable food, to get lost in a country where I don’t speak the language, to meditate in a temple and get sunburnt in the desert.” My only question is, Tracey, will you take us with you?

I asked Tracey what message she hopes to impart to others. “To think,” she says. “To think before you make a judgment about anything or anyone. To listen to the world around you, especially your loved ones. It can all change so quickly… Don’t regret not listening or loving them enough.”

Please take time to visit Tracey at Just Another Mommy Blog and let her know you’re there.

             ”Step back and enjoy your treasures…”

If you have good news to share, please leave it in the comments section or in a Good News post of your own.

• This kind of freaky goodness makes cleaning the house much more enjoyable. Thanks to my sister-in-law in Ireland for sending us this groovalicious CD!
• My husband and I saw There Will Be Blood. Fantastic! Excellent! Loved, loved, loved it! Click on the link to the official site where you can view various clips from the movie. Daniel Day-Lewis is one of my favorite actors and plays the part perfectly with his distinctive, growly voice, but Paul Dano, the actor who plays Eli the psychotic preacher, is the one I can’t seem to get out of my mind (and not in a good way, as I would much rather have Daniel Day-Lewis taking up residence). You may remember Paul Dano from his role as the brooding brother in Little Miss Sunshine.
• My Burpee seed catalogue arrived, and I’m beginning to make plans for the garden. We’re expanding this year! And for the first time ever, there will be NO summer squash or zucchini (gasp!).
• I received my business cards in the mail, and new freelance opportunities are beginning to appear in my inbox each day. Hooray!
• Jacob lost his fourth tooth (the top front). Actually, Hannah helped expedite the process when she knocked him in the mouth with her knee. I hear it was an accident, but I’m not so sure. The one beside it is very loose now, so pretty soon I’ll have a son with two missing front teeth. He suddenly looks much older, and he speaks with a cute lisp.
• Hannah and Jacob spent a few days with Granny and Papa while my husband was traveling. It was just Bridget and me on Wednesday evening, and she went to bed at 5:30. Yes, 5:30!!! So I started a new book (The Golden Compass), I watched the evening news, and I ate dinner IN PEACE. I forgot what quiet sounds likes, and it was truly, truly wonderful. Sorta like a mini-vacation!
• Bridget has a new favorite word: certainly. If you make the observation that the weather is cold, Bridget will reply, It certainly is! She likes big words.
• I appreciate everyone who has either signed up on the Bloggers for Locks of Love page or written a post to support the cause. Thank you!
• Last, but certainly not least, I have some of the most supportive blog friends a blogger could ever hope for. Thank you for the kind comments on this post.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately. I don’t often see them - maybe once a year. But my mind has been stuck these past few days on distant memories that really are still very fresh in my mind.

My parents divorced when I was three years old, and my older sister and I were shuffled betwixt our mother’s house in Georgia, and my father’s house in Kansas. Spending only two months of the year with a family you practically don’t know is strange. My parents didn’t part well, and they turned my sister and me into mudslinging little messengers. I often cried myself to sleep. Divorce is hell on children. While my parents staying married for the sake of my sister and me would have been a terrible mistake, we suffered just as much jumping from one dysfunctional family to the next.

Spending time with my grandparents, however, was nothing less than salvation. I would cling to each moment with them, loath to return “home” to my father and stepmother. Whereas time spent with my grandparents felt like the excitement of Christmas morning, going back to my dad’s house was akin to holiday letdown. There was no summer vacation at my dad’s house; instead, there were strict rules and frequent spankings delivered on bare skin with a hand or belt and always the excuse that “this is gonna hurt me more than it’s gonna hurt you.” My dad, a Sgt. Major, treated me like one of his men. He seemed to forget that I was just a little girl. I can’t think about him, write about him, or talk about him without feeling tense and angered.

But my grandparents . . . they are Safety and Comfort personified.

Whenever I hear the sound of ice cream churning, I think about them. I think about walking into their kitchen and smelling dinner in the oven, the best-tasting food you could ever imagine. I think of sneaking mint-flavored gum drops from the candy jar. I think of swimming in the pool and splashing my grandma who would feign worry about getting her hair wet. I think of sitting on the warm concrete patio, a towel wrapped around me, eating homemade ice-cream sandwiches. I think about the big brown dog next door that I would pet through the metal fence. I think about the afternoons spent at the playground, rolling down the grassy hill. I think about my grandma braiding my hair and fashioning a handkerchief around my head to protect me from the Kansas wind. I think of camping with my grandparents at the lake and being allowed to drink more “pop” than a kid should ever consume. I think of my grandpa who would let me type on his mechanical typewriter and play “post office” with his rubber thumb and old junk mail. I think of my grandma coloring with me, reading books to me, and singing me to sleep.

I’m lucky that I still have both my grandparents, and I can’t imagine my life without them. When I feel angry at the hand that Fate dealt me when I was born to an alcoholic mother and an abusive father, I must remember that it dealt me two Aces as well.

Once again, 5 Minutes for Mom is hosting the Ultimate Blog Party, and I’m going to be there. During the week of Marh 7-14, women from all over the bloggosphere will hop from one blog to the next in an effort to meet new people and have lots of fun. There were over 1000 participants last year with a ton of prizes given away, and I’m sure it will even better this year!If you would like to get involved, please read the official terms. Don’t worry; there’s nothing difficult about participating.

I’ve signed up to give away a prize this year. One winner will receive a free site endorsement from me, valued at $30. 

For examples of past endorsements, please click here:

• byKimLane: handmade bags and accessories
• A Memory Shared: turning digital photographs into storybooks
• Very Sweet Bows: boutique hair bows, tutus and more
• Pipnstuff: an etsy store filled with vintage and recycled goodies
• Naked-Jewelry: handcrafted jewelry
• katelynjane: handmade bags and more

I’ve become her. That parent. The one who freaks out.

I swore I would never be her. I would be cool. I would be relaxed.

But there I was, pacing, feeling as though I was going to puke, my heart in the pit of my stomach.

Where are you? Where are you?

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My eight-year-old daughter spent the night with a friend. At 9:00 the morning after, I received a call from her friend’s mother saying that they needed to run a few errands and would bring Hannah home shortly after.

Given that this woman’s eldest son had a class downtown from 10:30-12:00, I expected Hannah home around 1:00. When 3:00 came around and my daughter was still not home, I called their house and got no answer. At 4:00, when it began snowing heavily, I started to get a little worried. At 4:52, I finally received a phonecall.

Had I been the parent in charge of someone else’s child for the day, I would have placed several calls. But that’s me. Perhaps I’m a little neurotic. Maybe other mothers don’t get worried when they don’t hear about their child all day long. Maybe other mothers don’t begin to wonder if their child is lying in a hospital bed from injuries sustained in a car accident, or worse.

This mom is very laid back, though, the complete antithesis of someone like me. In a way, I envy her. *I should state that I have NO doubts about this woman’s qualifications to parent her own children. And my daughter always has an excellent time at their house, despite the fact that she serves carrots and hummus and nuts for lunch, which my daughter says does nothing to satiate hunger.*

Sigh.

I suppose a part of me is a little bit jealous of those types of people who just go with the flow. Okay, a BIG part of me is a LOT jealous. I surprised my husband the other night when I told him that, even when I was Hannah’s age, my friends would often tell me that I was no fun to be around. That could have been due to the fact that I shouldered the burden of parenting a drunk parent and often flew under the radar of an emotionally distant step-father and a maniacal real one. I was loads of fun.

When this woman called me at 4:52 to say that she and her children would be walking Hannah home through the woods, I freaked a little. I even called her back to say I would just drive over to pick up Hannah. It’s cold and windy out. She doesn’t have her snowpants or a hat or mittens.

Don’t worry, she said. I’ll outfit her in proper clothes. She’ll arrive nice and toasty.

Of course. Because she is responsible. She wouldn’t let her own children traipse through the snow without proper protection, so why would she let mine?

And there they were, about 40 minutes later, the lot of them coming down the hill: mom with toddler son swaddled across her back, Hannah and friend waving and laughing, eldest son (hair almost as long as mine in a braid) and friend, one dog, one cat. Rosy cheeks. Smiles.

I was so happy to see my daughter, and I was so happy to see this . . . .  spectacular vision of familial bonding. The typical “granola” Ithacan family.

I wish that was my family.

I wish I could be that type of mother.

The mother studying to be a midwife, who wears a wool cap covering loose braids, who makes a rough, unfinished house feel cozy, who has a barn, who homeschools, who straps her three year old to her back, who serves carrots and hummus, whose children seem perfectly well-behaved and quietly observant.

And then there’s me: the mother who is uptight about everything, who can’t relax enough to have fun, who would never think to go hiking through the woods on a cold, snowy day, who abides by a strict schedule, who constantly feels the pains of heart palpitations and phantom ulcers. One would think I thrive on stress; It’s just that I’ve never known otherwise. 

I don’t know what I would do with a quiet house. I don’t know what I would do with older children who didn’t engage in physical fights on a daily basis or a son who didn’t constantly antagonize anything with a pulse, or a toddler who didn’t consistently hold in her poop to the point of a weekly bout with constipation, or a brood whose automatic answer to my every request is ”no.” What is it like to really have fun with your kids, not just go through the motions because that’s what a good mom is supposed to do? I feel sorry for my kids, because I am no fun. And it’s difficult to just become fun. This is me. This is my personality. My poor children got stuck with me when they should have inherited someone far more patient and “young” and less serious.

She made me blueberry pancakes and painted my fingernails! We jumped on the trampoline until we saw the moon . . .

Those who know me well will attest to the fact that I’m just not a jewelry type of person. Aside from my engagement ring and wedding band, I rarely adorn myself with extraneous jewels. I have unopened boxes of earrings, bracelets, and necklaces, politely and graciously accepted from well-meaning mothers, grandmothers, and sisters, but I just don’t get excited over tiny bits of bling like most normal women. 

But when I pointed my browser to Naked-Jewelry, my attitude changed completely. Wow! doesn’t seem the appropriate expletive, and neither does Beautiful!, for how can one capture in words the stunning designs found at Naked-Jewelry?

Sally Jewett-Brocato, designer for Naked-Jewelry, hand selects each stone to create a truly one-of-a-kind piece of work. You can find information about each stone on her website, and she works with gems such as Jasper, Turquoise, Peridot, and more. Sally’s products include earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and special occasion pieces, and they range in price from under $50 to $300. If you would like to create a custom design, Sally can help you with that, too.

Naked-Jewelry is an easy-to-navigate, professional website with a wide array of products available for purchase. If you are looking for a simple casual piece or one for a special, formal occasion, consider supporting Sally and Naked-Jewelry.

You can also visit Sally’s etsy store and her blog, For the Love of Jewels.

Sally would like to give away a bracelet similar to the one pictured below. It is an Amethyst and Green Garnet Bracelet with Sterling Silver Accents and Leather Tie, priced at $45. To be entered into this drawing, just leave a comment on this post from now until February 26^th, noon eastern. I will select one person in a random drawing and notify the winner in next week’s post.

Thank you, Sally!

*This is a paid endorsement.*

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Be sure to read about another great designer!

Congratulations to Avery for winning the giveaway from pipnstuff!!

I have a soft spot for bags, in case you didn’t know. I may be a rural farm girl at heart and would rather spend my time in a pair of comfortable overalls with dirt beneath my nails than strutting around in a pair of break-neck stiletto heels, but one thing I do love is a good bag. I’m not talking about expensive designer or celebrity handbags, no. I’m talking about affordable bags for the real woman. I’m talking about bags that are fun, funky, and just a little bit eccentric. I’m talking about *cute little bags* by katelynjane.

katelynjane is a Canadian-based etsy store filled with bags of all shapes and sizes. The fun began when Katelyn tried her hand at recreating a bag she admired. The Kitty Bag was born, and the Punk Pink Kitty Bag, pictured below, is simply perfect for a day at the beach. You know those warm, sunny days are just around the corner, so toss in your beach towel, sunscreen, and romance novel, and get ready for a relaxing afternoon! 

After receiving praise for her Kitty Bags, Katelyn decided to create something a little different. The katelynjane Zippie Bags are big enough to hold the essentials like a cell phone, spending money, and lipstick – everything a girl should never leave home without!

   Putting a new spin on a trusted favorite, Katelyn designed the Kiki Bag. It’s one of the newest additions to the katelynjane store and features four roomy pockets on the exterior, feminine pleats, and tons of personality. The Kiki Bag, featured below, is one of my personal katelynjane favorites!

katelynjane’s silliest creation, however, is the pocket pal, a quirky little bag that likes to “eat” things, such as loose coins and pens. What a perfect companion to keep in the car when you need spare change or something to write with. I know I’m always fishing between the seats at the most inopportune of moments!

Last Tuesday, I began my parenting series with a post on toddler tantrums. In case you aren’t aware, and for future reference, each Tuesday I *try* to tackle an aspect of parenting that affects most of us at one time or another. This is as beneficial for me, as I hope it is for you.

My post touched on the details of one of Bridget’s recent tantrums. To recap, she was frustrated that I couldn’t figure out what she meant by “polar bear” in reference to her recorded cartoon, and she “lost it” when I suggested we read a book or work a puzzle, instead. It was at that point she began to scream in an octave recognizable only to a dog, overturn the toy basket, and throw anything she could grab. My attempts to soothe her only made her more upset, and she soon ran to her room and slammed the door.

So what did I do?

I left her alone.

She screamed. She cried. She threw toys. She jumped on the bed. She thrashed on the floor. For a long time.

After awhile, I opened the door, got down on my knees, and, without saying a word to her, opened up my arms.

Bridget came to me willingly and asked for a “boob” and a “rockie” in the rocking chair. In two minutes, she was asleep.

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Bridget doesn’t often have tantrums but I notice that when she does, it’s the result of her being overtired and not knowing how to calm down. Jacob, on the other hand, has a tantrum when he is hungry. Hannah has a tantrum when she feels we are not validating her feelings. I have a tantrum when I feel stressed. Ian has a tantrum when he feels frustrated. I’ve come to realize that people, kids especially, don’t have tantrums because they are “deviant” people. On the contrary, they are reacting to stress that they cannot process in an appropriate way. Just yesterday, Jacob was sent home from a playdate for hitting his friend. His excuse? I was starving, and she (the mom) didn’t give me anything to eat even though I asked. I just got mad.

Let’s talk about exhaustion and hunger as tantrum triggers. Think back to the last time you were overtired or very hungry. If you’re anything like me, you probably felt on edge. Most adults, however, have the ability to cope with a pending internal tantrum before it explodes for all to see. You can grab a quick snack to refuel or close your eyes for a few minutes. You are capable of dealing with your needs by yourself.

Children between the ages of 1 and 3 are considered “toddlers,” and most of the kids who fall into this category can’t always verbalize what they want. Bridget is a young 2.5, and it’s only been within the past few months that her language skills have developed enough to where most people, my husband included, can understand her. I’ve always been her interpreter. More often than not, you have to pick up on nonverbal cues to alert you to your child’s needs: rubbing of the eyes, yawning, boredom, listlessness, general fussiness.

The day that Bridget experienced her tantrum grande, I had a larger than normal workload. I admit to putting a few books and toys in front of her and turning on the television so that I could immerse myself in that day’s edits. Although it wasn’t one of my finer parenting moments, lapses in judgement do happen on occasion. Had I been more cognizant of Bridget’s changing mood, I most likely could have prevented her tantrum. However, we live in the real world where no parent is perfect.

What else can trigger a tantrum?

• a toddler who tries to master a skill beyond her ability: Bridget loves to wear boots; however, her inability to manipulate the zipper causes her to scream or throw them aside in frustration.
• a toddler who needs to assert herself: Bridget often “yells” at me when she feels I am not listening. She also yells at Hannah and Jacob when she feels ignored or mistreated. And how many times have you heard, “No! Me do it!” when your toddler wants to comb her hair/brush her teeth/put on her socks?
• a toddler who has too many choices or not enough structure: Why is it that your toddler behaves so well in preschool but is like a wild monkey at home? You might not be providing enough structure. I’m always amazed with Bridget’s preschool teacher’s ability to wrangle a dozen or more children, the majority of them toddler age, with little parental help. And yet, there are times when I feel I have absolutely no control over my three children. And while I don’t want them to be robotic children, a little less jumping on the couch or spilling bleach on the floor would be nice. Our home environment is not as structured as the school’s, and my children exploit that to the fullest extent.
• a toddler who is just prone to tantrums: I’m convinced there is a gene for this. Jacob was our “tantrum child.” At age six, he is still our tantrum child, and he cries more than his toddler-aged sister. These types of toddlers are often classified as stubborn, high-intensity, and slow to adapt. These are just a few of the character traits that prompted us to seek professional help with Jacob. *Incidentally, I felt very angry and frustrated much of the time when I was pregnant with Jacob, and for no apparent reason.* 

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If you are currently the parent of a toddler or have ever parented a toddler, what else can trigger a tantrum? Please share in the comments sections.

Come back next week when we take a look at how you can prevent a tantrum.

When I was pregnant with my third baby, Bridget, I ballooned so quickly that I was positive I must be carrying twins. As much as the prospect of having a six-year-old, a four-year-old, and two infants scared me, the thought of having twins to hug and smooch pleased me just as much. My 20-week sonogram confirmed, indeed, that there was a lone babe, as did an impromptu sonogram a few weeks later when I needed to have an echocardiogram. On both occasions we were told we were going to have a boy, our little “Bryce Richard.” Even then, Bridget was performing her mischievous antics in utero. I’m convinced she clinched the umbilical cord between her legs just to fool everyone. And fooled we were!

My bloggy friend, Lance, and his German-born wife, pledged themselves into that elusive, “members only” club with the birth of their identical twin daughters, Kiera and Reese. Lance is the author of Dad2Twins, a blog started two years ago as a place to impart advice about raising multiples. Lance admits he had no idea what he was doing, however, and his blog became more or less a home for his “sick sense of humor.” Lance does talk about his girls and has even nicknamed them the “Farty Pants Twins,” superheroes in a children’s book he is in the process of writing.

I asked Lance what life with twins is like. “When I first found out we were having twins, I was in shock for about a week. Since these were my first kids, I thought I would be overwhelmed with the raising of these children. Since I have never only had “one” child, I don’t know any better, but I think having twins is awesome. I love it and wouldn’t have it any other way. The girls are such buddies. They are protective of each other and really love having each other around. I feel bad for parents who only have one kid and that kid has to go find other kids to play with. Our twins have a built in best friend.”

Lance, a former musician, describes himself as an easy-going guy. He and his wife raise their daughters in California, where Lance works from home in corporate taxes. A typical day for Lance includes getting up, drinking a cup of coffee while his girls watch Mickey Mouse, and then heading off to work down the hall. He appreciates being home with his girls and welcomes them into his office at any time.

Lance’s hobby is real estate investment, and he hopes to be able to retire in the next ten years and finish writing his books. Perhaps he’ll pick up the guitar, join a band, and release a few more CD’s. Yes, Lance was in several bands in the late 80’s and early 90’s, and they even had a Top 10 Hit in Holland. Lance is super-secretive about his fame, however, so don’t ask the name of his former band!

Please take a few minutes to pay Lance and Dad2Twins a visit. Lance says, “I truly appreciate the fact that many of the readers of Dad2twins are loyal and keep coming back day and day, and post after post. It makes it fun to write and that is why I have kept with it for 2 years and I have no plans to stop anytime soon.”

Do you have Good News to share? Please leave your good news in the comments section or write a Good News post of your own!

1. Winter break is here, and the big kids are going to Granny’s and Papa’s house. Whatever will I do with just one kid? And because my husband is traveling for a few days, I get to watch all the chick flicks I want. Hooray!

2. My husband and I are planning a date. This is MAJOR news, as we never go out just the two of us (this is our belated anniversary gift to each other).

3. THE TAXES ARE DONE!

4. Our regular contractor fixed our furnace in a jiffy. His entire fee was less than what the housecall would have been with “the other guys.” Thank goodness for honest people in this world. And thank goodness it’s no longer 58 degrees in our house.

5. My husband did the right thing, although it wasn’t particularly good news for him.

6. Hannah and I did Friday-night grocery shopping together and got free samples of gelatto. Going to the store is a lot more fun with an 8-year-old kid who can behave than a toddler who refuses to sit in the cart.

7. I’m alive, having survived driving in a blizzard.

8. I have a girl crush. The kids and I love jumping on the bed to this song.

9. Bridget fell off the workroom stool onto a concrete floor and only bruised her right cheek. She has a black eye, and the right side of her face is purple, but it could have been much worse. This happened just as her dad was saying, “You need to get down from there.” I’m just glad I didn’t see it happen.

10. I took Jacob to lunch on Saturday and he proclaimed it, “the best day ever!”

11. I organized my interview notes and began writing a new article.

12. I attempted the “birds and the bees” talk with Hannah. She claims she already knows how babies are made, but she was too embarrassed to tell me about it. That’s when we were interrupted by a pesky little brother. We’ll try it again another day.

So let’s recap January’s goals to see how well I did.

1. I will walk on the treadmill 15 minutes each day. Um. I didn’t do well on this one. For the first week in January, I was on the treadmill each day. This usually meant that I was skipping over small toys as Bridget tossed them on the track, which only made the workout more challenging. But then I got sick with a wretched cough and cold, and I stayed sick for a few weeks. Before long, it was the end of the month. I’m not doing so hot for February, either. I need to TOTALLY revamp my attitude about exercising.

2. I will pay off the Sears credit card. At least my intentions were good.

3. I will write and send a letter to my grandparents. YES! This was one of the first things I accomplished.

4. I will clean out and organize my file cabinet. WIP. I cleaned out ONE of the two-drawer file cabinets completely. The other one is a monster jammed with folders and papers. It’s truly a disaster, but I am working on it.

5. I will not use the credit card. If I did use it, I paid off the balance. I did NOT use it for “I want” purchases. 

So what happened? Well, I can honestly say that I really DO NOT like going down to the basement to run on the treadmill. We have no heat down there, and it is COLD this time of year. I’m well aware that once I begin running, I’ll warm up. But the thought of just going down there gives me the chills (literally). Exercising outside is out of the question, as we live on a VERY busy road. And if I thought the basement was cold, outside is even colder. Going to the YMCA is out of the question. It’s all the way on the other side of town, and I have neither the time nor the money to devote to a gym right now. Like I said, I need to change my attitude about exercising. I need to just put on a few extra layers and brave the chilly basement.

I was close to paying off the Sears credit card. However, doing so would mean that we would be short on grocery and gas money, which means I would have used the credit card for those purchases (which I wouldn’t have been able to pay off). I’m working more now, so I hope to have that paid off soon. 

The file cabinet - yeah, that was pure laziness on my part. 

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Now to my February goals. Even though we are halfway through the month, it’s okay; I can still accomplish these goals.

1. Clean out the medicine cabinet.

2. Finish steam cleaning/scrubbing the bathroom floor.

3. Finish sending out the kids’ school pictures.

4. Write and send a letter to my dad (we are basically estranged, but I keep hoping that one of these days he will acknowledge me and his grandchildren).

5. Organize the kids’ clothes to list on eBay.

This past Sunday, I thought I was going to die. Although I am often prone to exaggeration for purely a dramatic effect, I honestly believed I was about to be wiped from the face of this planet, never to blog again.

I live in Central New York. In the summer months, when the air is warm, the landscape lush and fragrant with all things bright and beautiful, and I am eating fresh strawberries and tomatoes from garden, I am convinced there is no better place to live. But during these cold winter days when the wind is howling and the temperatures are in the negative, this is when I begin to wonder what the heck I am doing so far north. I am a transplanted southerner, after all. I grew up in Marietta, Georgia, where school closes with just an inch of snow and the very mention of winter weather sends frantic shoppers out for every last loaf of bread and gallon of over-priced milk.

I had just dropped my daughter at a friends house for a playdate. Although there were a few flurries flitting and floating through the air, the weather posed no threat to me. I’m the type of person who will stay holed up inside her house if there is even a threat of dangerous weather, but my internal inclement-weather gauge told me there was nothing to worry about. Four years ago, when Hannah and Jacob were quite small, the three of us were caught driving in a freak snowstorm. Needless to say, what should have been a 15-minute drive home turned into a frantic, 60-minute trek . I slipped and slid the entire way home. Both kids were eerily quiet in the backseat, and I vowed I would never let myself be caught like that again.

After saying goodbye to Hannah, I drove west past my house so that I could grab a few groceries from the store. I noticed that the snow began to fall somewhat heavier, but it was still nothing with which to be concerned. I simply turned off the radio so that I could concentrate on my driving. About 1/2 mile later, however, visibility decreased dramatically. I slowed down to 25-30 mph and put on my hazard lights, but I realized that with the wind whipping the snow all around me, I could not see anything. I could barely make out the yellow lines, and I couldn’t even see oncoming traffic until the cars were practically on top of me. I thought about pulling over, but I was terribly disoriented. I was afraid that if I did pull over, someone might rear-end me.

I finally made it to the store’s parking lot and tried calling my husband. Because of the high winds, however, I couldn’t get a signal. I decided that I would wait out the storm inside the store and make my way back home once it had passed. Needless to say, I was quite shaky and thankful my kids were not with me this time.

The storm abated quickly and we were, once again, left with light flurries and the occasional strong gust of wind. On my way home, I traveled at a snail’s pace, because the snow plow had yet to clear the road. Traffic was heavy due to people leaving church and, because the roads were quite slick, several cars in front of me began fishtailing. One driver coming towards me fishtailed into MY lane, and I narrowly avoided her!

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally made it home.

When I pulled into the garage, my husband and Bridget were waiting at the door for me. I took one look at them and began bawling - the choking kind of cry that you would never want anyone else to see. My hands and legs were shaking, and I could barely walk. I was so worried about you, said my husband. I am simply not cut out for hazardous driving conditions. You would think that after six winters of living here I would be used to it, but I’m not. I just don’t like this weather. I hate it, in fact.

I don’t like waiting for the bus when it is 5 degrees outside. I don’t like fussing with snow gear each morning. I don’t like letting the van warm up for 10 minutes each morning (our van won’t fit in our garage), chiseling ice off windows, or prying open van doors. I don’t like static hat head. I don’t like chapped hands, cheeks, and lips. I don’t like frozen snot. I don’t like when my sister tells me it’s 60 degrees down south and it’s freezing here. I don’t like how she can go swimming in May, while we are still wearing jeans and sweaters. I don’t like how they can plant flowers in April, and we’re still worrying about frost on early-June nights. I don’t like our natural gas bills. I don’t like waking up to a furnace that has stopped working.

I’m just not a cold-weather person, and I never will be.

SUMMER! WHERE ARE YOU??

**The above picture was taken on Valentine’s Day 2007. I think we got about 18 inches of snow. And yes, school was canceled!**

Don’t forget to head over to www.LisGarrett.com for the latest Up For Debate post. How Honest Are You??

My eight-year-old daughter, Hannah, came to me in the fall of 2007, and told me that a few of the girls in her school had donated their hair to make wigs. She asked, Why would someone do that?

How would you feel, I replied, if you didn’t have any hair?

She thought for a moment before stating simply, I would feel badly.

We talked about how a person’s self-image is often associated with her hair. How often have you felt embarrassed about your hair-do or complained that you were having a bad hair day? How many times have you cursed your thin, thick, curly, or straight hair? Now just imagine if you didn’t even have hair to curse?

My daughter and I are lucky; we are both healthy individuals. However, there are some children who aren’t as lucky as we are, and that is why Locks of Love is available to help them. Locks of Love is a non-profit organization that provides hair prostheses to disadvantaged and deserving children. The prostheses are offered free-of-charge or on a sliding-scale basis.

Many of the children who receive a Locks of Love prostheses suffer from an auto-immune condition called Alopecia, in which the hair follicles shut down. Of course, there are also the children who are suffering cancer and who have lost their hair due to chemotherapy. 

Hannah and I have decided that by donating our hair, we are giving so little of ourselves, and yet we are helping another person in such a huge way. All it takes from us is time - nothing else.

I hope that you will join Hannah and me in making a hair donation to Locks of Love. Please take a few moments to read the guidelines for acceptable donations. Hannah and I would like to see how many bloggers we can get to commit to making a donation (and to follow through, of course!). Here is what you can do to show your support:

• Send an email to me at woolgatherings@gmail.com with “Locks of Love” in the subject field. In your email, please state that you commit to making a hair donation. Please provide at least a first name, although you may provide your city and blog address, as well. I will add your information to the “these bloggers made the commitment” list.
• Write a post about Bloggers for Locks of Love and ask each of your readers to make the commitment.
• When you have made the donation, email me at woolgatherings@gmail.com with your name AND include the URL of your Locks of Love post in which you show evidence of getting your hair cut (you holding your cut ponytail). I will then add your information to a “these bloggers made the cut” list. *The permanant page is located here.*
• Join the Bloggers for Locks of Love Flickr Group (optional) in which you can post a picture of yourself holding your cut ponytail.
• There is no end date. This is an ongoing project to see how many bloggers we can get to donate their hair.
• **You do NOT have to be a blogger to participate. If you read a blog, then I consider you a blogger.**

If you are not able to donate your hair, would you please consider posting about Bloggers for Locks of Love on your site?

Sk*rt this story!! Click on the “LOVE” button.

Please visit the homepage at http://www.MelissaGarrett.wordpress.com

Toddler tantrums. They’re an awful fact of parenthood, and they’re inevitable.

As fate would have it, the one night that Bridget slept in her own bed from 8:00 PM until 3:00 AM, which meant that I had five glorious hours of uninterrupted sleep, she awoke the next morning in the foulest of moods. Perhaps the reason that the moon and stars aligned and partnered with my long-lost fairy godmother to grant me such a blessed rest is because “they” knew I would need every ounce of strength to combat THE TANTRUM OF ALL TANTRUMS.

That was precisely the moment I decided to do a series of posts on toddler tantrums. I gave serious thought to recording this particular tantrum of Bridget’s, but I thought that either viewers would misinterpret its cinemagraphic relevance and label me an uncaring and unresponsive mother, it would scare prospective parents from procreating, or it would cause a decrease in readers who can experience their own toddler tantrums in their own home without having to be subjected to mine. I decided the video wasn’t such a good idea, however, despite the purely journalistic intent. Although this post is lacking an auditory and visual aid, I assure you it was a whopper of a tantrum.

It was the DVR that prompted Bridget’s outburst. She was convinced that one of her pre-recorded programs (Dora, Diego, Wonder Pets, etc) featured a polar bear. I assure you, the same cartoons have been on the DVR for months, and I am well-versed in their content. Not a one of them has a polar bear. At one point, I thought she was saying “purple bear.” Thank God! I thought. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Look Bridget, this cartoon has a purple bear. Is this what you want? Look a purple bear!

No, polar bear!

She was agitated but still in control of herself. However, I could tell that she was becoming irritated by my inability to deliver what she was requesting. This back-and-forth banter went on for a short time until I could tell she was on the brink of really losing it. When I suggested that we read a book or work a puzzle instead, it was then that all hell broke loose . . .

Come back next Tuesday when I will begin discussing the different degrees of the toddler tantrum, as well as how to cope while in the midst of one and how to reduce the occurrence of one in the future.

Oh, and I’ll let you know what happened with Bridget.

Stephanie, of Metropolitan Mama, does a wonderful job of writing informative posts that both encourage and inspire. She runs a weekly special called Fit Mama Friday, and she is introducing a five-day promotion called Get Fit in February, which will run February 14th-18th. Head over to Metropolitan Mama now to learn more! 

****Monday’s profile post of Greenbean Baby now has pictures!! Take a look!!****

“A happy mom has a happy family. And a happy mom can make some art so that she can be happier.”

If you have yet to stumble upon Ellia’s blog, Greenbean Baby, let me tell you that you are really in for a treat! Believe me when I say Ellia is one of the most creative and fantastic people you might ever meet. 

Although I can’t remember when or how I first discovered Ellia and Greenbean Baby, I can say with certainty that I was hooked from the very beginning. I have always admired talented individuals who create with their hands, mainly because I am inept at all forms of tangible craft. It’s a healthy sort of envy, really, filled with nothing but a deep appreciation for those who create. Ellia’s creative spirit guides her with cut paper illustration which, in layperson’s terms, is a little like extreme scrap-booking. 

Ellia began her formal studies in art college, but she found cut paper illustrating almost by accident. She struggled with creating the melancholy self-portraits and still-life paintings that her classmates seemed to master. After all, there was something just so perpetually “happy” about her artwork, and it was impossible to be serious. It wasn’t until someone suggested she pursue a career in illustrating that Ellia considered it a plausible choice. Nevertheless, she found sketching and paintings to be painfully tedious, and that’s when one of Ellia’s professors turned her on to paper. 

Ellia describes herself as “a mom who has an addiction to coffee and organizing, both of which are vital to keep up with life.” Her methods of organization would make most parents green with envy, but Ellia says that having everything in its place gives her the clarity she needs to be creative. Believe it or not, Ellia’s day ends at 3am and begins a few hours later when her kids get up for the day. No wonder she needs two pots of coffee to stay awake! Ellia is an expert at multitasking, and there is a sort of frenetic energy to her daily routine of kids, cleaning, art and the occasional video game with her husband.     

When asked about the qualities needed in order to define a person as “artistic,” Ellia replied that “to be truly artistic, you must be able to tap into your creativity without killing it with self-doubt and criticism. While it’s true not everyone is an artist, I believe that most everyone can be artistic. And that requires creativity and the desire to make something you enjoy. Eventually it will lead you to find your style and perhaps lead you to be more artistic than you thought.” 

Ellia is in the process of designing a new website, which should be ready for its grand debut in March. What’s consuming most of her time, however, besides being a mom and organizing her home, is the illustrative work she’s providing for a children’s book.  

If you are interested in learning more about cut paper illustrations, Ellia has put together a tutorial that gives you a step-by-step process on how to create a simple cut paper illustration. She advises to start out using inexpensive paper and a glue stick and to look through books and magazines for inspiration. In addition, don’t be afraid to ask questions of professionals or people whom you admire. 

Please take a few minutes to stop by Greenbean Baby and let Ellia know what a fantastic job she is doing. Likewise, be sure to add Ellia’s etsy shop to your list of favorites. Although it’s a little sparse now, she assures me that she’s got a lot up her sleeve. 

Keep up the great work, Ellia!

Don’t forget to share your Good News either in the comments section or in a Good News post of your own!

• On August 6, 1998, my life changed forever. I met Ian in a chatroom on the Internet, and we fell in love. We were the pioneers of online love connections, and most everyone thought we were crazy. But on February 5, 2008, we celebrated 9 years of marriage. I guess we weren’t so crazy after all.
• I’m excited about this shirt by Speesees. See the elephant? Hannah drew it! Speesees is a wonderful retailer of organic children’s clothing and accessories. I’ve purchased several items for Bridget, and the feeling of the clothes is unbeatable (not to mention they are SUPER cute). They’ve just introduced a new line, and the shirt is part of it. Although it’s not yet available for purchase (at least I didn’t see it on the website), you can view the Speesees Blog to get an idea of what they’ll be offering.
• Hooray for grandparents who help watch the kids while your husband is traveling so that you can get some work done!
• My daily stats hit 642 on February 5th, and all-time high, thanks to a little blurb about my site on etsy. Things are getting back to normal now (about 175 daily hits). Well, you can’t be famous forever!
• The Support Entrepreneurs page is filling up, and I’ve received several requests for endorsements.
• Hooray for chocolate cake!
• And hooray for a husband who made it home okay from Philly and is a HERO! He was one of the first people on the scene of a car that had flipped over on the highway (darn winter weather). The Mr. and Mrs. were okay, thank goodness, albeit a bit shaken. Their dog, however, was scared to bits and took off running down the road. My husband said several other pedestrians stopped to catch the dog.

On my way to the store yesterday morning to purchase a gift for an upcoming birthday party, I heard an interesting news story that validated what I’ve suspected this past month in my personal life. It seems the people who are most prone to retail therapy are those who are lonely or depressed. This makes perfect sense, as it’s long been touted that spending money releases the very endorphins that make you feel happy.

Apparently, researchers showed one group of people a short film about the Great Barrier Reef and another group a film about someone dying (the details on that point are vague, as that was the precise moment Bridget began screaming Twinkle Twinkle Little Star). It comes as no surprise, then, that the group who watched the depressing film was willing to pay as much as four times the amount for bottled water than the group who watched the more neutral film.

Of course, all of this got me to thinking about my own spending habits. I made the conscious decision not to use the credit card for the month of January on purchases that could not be paid off in full. We have excellent credit, but it’s only because we live hand-to-mouth in order to make our minimum payments on time. I’m not embarrassed to admit that we’ve made horrible financial decisions during the past nine years. Statistics show that we aren’t alone. In addition, trying to raise children on primarily one income has been extremely difficult; there were some months we would have fallen short on our supply of diapers, milk, and gasoline had it not been for the credit card. 

So one of my goals for the month of January was to cut extraneous spending, and it was a goal I actually met. But I began to wonder why it was so easy for me this time around, when in the past I’ve turned to shopping as retail therapy. The answer is simple: I’m working. I’m making money. I’m contributing.

Being a mother is the most important job, but it’s no secret that motherhood is never going to be “it” for me. I love my children dearly, but I also have passions that I need to pursue. For almost a decade, I neglected those yearnings; I put myself on the backburner for the rest of my family who was more than happy to, at times, suck the life and spirit right out of me. I suffered Post Partum Depression immediately following Jacob’s birth and not long after Bridget was born, as well. At one time, I felt so depleted that I contemplated begging my midwife for a “magic pill” that would make the bad feelings go away. Depression scares me; it is a part of my genetic DNA, and I am terrified it will grab hold of me and never let go. Fortunately, I rose above my funk on my own. It was as simple as waking up one morning and feeling like the weight of the world was not resting on my shoulders, after all. Or maybe I just had a good night’s sleep. I don’t know.

I began freelancing in July 2007, and I have never felt better about myself. This past month, especially, I have been so busy that the thought of spending money just because has not entered my mind once. I find myself questioning every purchase and evaluating its merit. Yes, we are still living hand-to-mouth, but that’s because we are actually squirreling money away for a summer vacation, birthday parties, Christmas 2008, and whatever little things come our way.

Business is picking up for me, and I feel fantastic. I don’t need to spend money to get that feeling of euphoria. 

Getting paid to devote time doing something I love is euphoric enough for me. 

Have you seen what’s new on the Support Entrepreneurs page? It’s been a whirlwind of excitement around here these past few days, thanks to a little post that Ellia, of Green Bean Baby, wrote about how to run a successful etsy shop. The etsy Storque ran her article, as well. Needless to say, I’m reaping the benefits of a simple shout-out. Thank you, Ellia! Thank you etsy!

As a result of all this hoopla, I’ve got NEW entrepreneurs on the page in addition to our old favorites, byKimLane and The Doodle Factory. There is a knitter, a painter, a jewelry maker, a seamstress, another knitter, an independent record producer (!!), a card maker and a dabbler.

Please take a few minutes to visit each of these talented entrepreneurs and let them know you found them through this site. If you would like to display your link, click here for more details.

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Don’t forget to check out today’s Up For Debate post!

Conversations with a two-year-old  

Bridget: I’m like a baby panda and mommy like a mommy panda.

Melissa to Ian: Bridget’s been obsessed with pandas lately.

Ian to Bridget: Pandas are very nice, Bridget. Would you like a baby Panda to come live with us?

Bridget: Yes! (very sweetly, hugs herself)

Ian: If you had a baby panda, where would you put him?

Bridget: In a volcano.

Ian and Melissa: A volcano?

Ian to Bridget: Where would the baby panda sleep?

Bridget: In the volcano.

Melissa (laughing)

Ian: Bridget, what is a volcano?

Bridget: Put baby panda in the volcano.

Melissa (laughing)

Ian: Yes, but what is a volcano?

Bridget: Flop.

Ian and Melissa: Flop?

Ian: Bridget, do you know what comes out of a volcano?

Bridget: Yes! Chocolate!

Melissa: Chocolate?

Bridget: Yes! And candy canes!

Ian: Bridget, a volcano is like a big mountain.

Melissa: Fire comes out of the top, like this (demonstrates an exploding volcano).

Bridget: Ohhhhh, yeah. Flop.

Melissa: Flop? Bridget, would the baby panda sleep in your bed?

Bridget: Nooooo. The volcano. And eat chocolate. And candy canes.

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Bridget watching Daddy take off his shirt: (in a very excited way shouts) Man boobs! Hooray!

Watch a video of Bridget singing!!

Elmer’s brand products are my #1 choice when shopping for beginning-of-the-year school supplies or when I just need to replensish our art closet. I trust the Elmer’s brand to deliver high-quality products that are both reliable and easy-to-use. Elmer’s is a lot more than just glue, however, although I have a certain fondness for paste. (yes, I was one of those kids)

When Bridget, aged 2.5, began preschool at the beginning of January, her teacher sent us home with a bag of paint tubes so that Bridget could complete her first “homework” assignment: a personalized placemat to use during snack time. Don’t worry about using up all the paint, the teacher said. They’re refillable.

This family is no stranger to painting, I assure you. My father-in-law is a retired art teacher and still-active painter, and his innate talent was genetically passed down to a certain older daughter of mine. We have tubes and tubs of every form and color of paint imaginable. Things can get very messy around here in a short amount of time.

So for parents who like to manage the mess (at least to a certain extent) it’s nice to have an alternative. What’s great about the Elmer’s Squeeze ‘N Brush paint set is that the paint is contained within the brush. As the name implies, all your little one has to do to get the paint down to the brush is give the tube a tiny squeeze (or a big one, if she’s feeling extra creative). No cups to tip over! No brushes to wash before switching colors! No fussing over plates and dishes!

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how much Bridget loved using the Squeeze ‘N Brush paint set. And here’s the best part ~ The nice folks at Elmer’s want to give one of YOU the Squeeze ‘N Brush paint set featured in this picture. All you need to do is leave a comment on this post between now and noon eastern, February 12th. I will randomly select the winner and announce his or her name on next Wednesday’s post. You must be willing to provide Elmer’s with your mailing address so that they can send the product to you. Good luck!

Please visit the Elmer’s site for all your crafty needs!

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Congratulations to Erica for winning the Crazy Bow from Very Sweet Bows!! Thanks for commenting, Erica. Everyone else can visit www.VerySweetBows.com to purchase your own Crazy Bow. Fagan has just listed super-cute butterfly, chick, and spring flower bows. I’ve put my order in - 3 spring flower bows for $8.50 (that includes S&H). Now that’s one sweet deal!

Does your toddler have imaginary friends? If she is like 2/3 of children between the ages of 2 1/2 and 3, chances are she has at least one imaginary friend who will hang around for the next few years. Imaginary friends are common among toddlers and young children, and they often appear for a variety of reasons.

Imaginary friends make great companions to a toddler who feels bored and lonely. They may act as protectors when she is frightened. And in some instances, imaginary friends serve as the perfect scapegoat for michievious deeds. 

Two-and-a-half year old Bridget has an imaginary friend named Bob. He is a small, blue dog who lives in the basement. Each morning, Bridget stands at the top of the stairs and calls, Here Bob! Here boy! She pats her leg and makes kissy noises in her attempts to summons Bob. Before long, Bob is by her side. Good boy, Bob, she coos.

Bob doesn’t stay around for long, however. Soon after Bob comes up for an early-morning pat, he retreats back to the basement for the rest of the day. We’re not sure why Bridget created her imaginary friend, Bob, nor do we know why Bob is a dog, instead of another child. But then again, I’m convinced that Bridget can see ghosts, so who’s to say she can’t see ghotsly dogs, as well?

My younger sister had a handful of imaginary friends when she was a child. I lived with my sister only two months of the year, so she was, for all intents and purposes, an only child. But her imgaginary friends, unlike Bob, were a bit more complex, each with his or her unique personality. Brother and Sister didn’t come around often, so not much can be reported about them. Sarah was my sister’s favorite imaginary friend, perhaps. She was quiet and altogether good. 

But then there was Justice. Trouble-maker Justice. He was definitely the scapegoat and the reason for many misdeeds. He even had his own “voice,” and my sister would contort her face and speak in a strangled way that was both frightening and very convincing. No one liked Justice, but he persisted for years. Finally, when my sister was a young adolescent, Justice was banished to Florida for being a peeping Tom (I was the victim). No one has heard from him since. 

I don’t mind Bob in the least. I’m just thankful we don’t have a Justice.

Sylvia is perhaps one of the happiest people I know, and her blog, Sylvia’s Insight, simply oozes positive energy. That glowing force is what attracted me to her blog in the first place, that, and how she manages to splash each post with a creative something. From her pursuits in writing, to the photographs and jewelry she sells in her etsy store, Sylvia has proven herself a true Renaissance Woman.

By day, Sylvia works in a kindergarten classroom, a profession befitting to those with only the sweetest of temperament and surplus of patience.