Happy Halloween!

This year both girls picked out their costumes. Bug immediately knew she wanted to be someone from Monster High, but struggled to decide on a character. Finally after much deliberation and consideration of how many others may pick each character she settled on Jina Fire.

Baby Girl, on the other hand, struggled a bit more. She had no idea who or what she wanted to be. At one point I think we had five costumes in our buggy for her to choose from. She narrowed it down to Woody or Buzz light year from Toy Story and then realized they were boy costumes, so the hunt began again.  After about 30 minutes in the store, she settled on a candy corn witch. 

Of course I picked Baby Boy's costume and I think he is the cutest little biker ever. Can you believe he kept that scarf on his head almost the entire night?!?!

Unfortunately Bug was not feeling the greatest with bronchitis and it was SO HOT!!! Both girls wanted to get out of their costumes after the first few houses, but they were troopers and kept going to get more candy. Bug was able to see one of her friends from school that lives just down the street and they both got a TON of candy. Two of our neighbors make special bags just for our kids! The night was a success!

Our NH Vacation Part 1

I am finally getting around to posting about our vacation ~ almost 3 weeks later! Yikes!

Anyway...

As I have said before I grew up in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, in a small town with a population just over 2000. Growing up, I couldn't wait to leave the rural life behind and immerse myself in city life. Up until recently I didn't appreciate the beauty of my hometown, nor the quality of life I had growing up in such a close knit community.

Other than family, the thing I miss most is the change of seasons. It sometimes makes me sad that my children will not regularly experience all that seasons have to offer. They will not experience the beautiful foliage and jumping into leaf piles during the fall, or sledding and building snowmen in winter. They will not see the bare branches of the trees bud and then become full with leaves in the summer sunshine. Here in Florida we have two seasons- hot and less hot. Fall has always been my favorite season, and the time of year that I am the most homesick. This year we were fortunate enough to be able to visit during the summer to fall transition. The days were warm, the evenings cool and the leaves were just starting to get some color. I love stepping off that plane and breathing in the crisp mountain air.

The closest airport is 2 hours away, so after landing, getting our luggage and loading up ourselves and the kid we stopped for dinner before making the drive to my mother's house. The Big One is not used to being in the car for extended periods, so for the majority of the drive we heard "How much longer until we are at your house Grammie?"

We finally arrived and the girls set about exploring their new surroundings and playing with the new toys from Grammie and Poppy.  The Little One is very much a mama's girl and cried any time anyone tried to talk to her. After a couple of hours of playing and hanging out we finally headed to bed for some much needed rest.

The next day we decided to take it easy. We went out to breakfast and then took a walk down to the lake.

 

 

When we got home the weather was beautiful so we headed outside to enjoy the warm sunshine and fresh air. We played in the water hose.

 

 

The Big One was not happy when we made her stop.

 

 

 

We played hide and seek.

 

 

 

We layed in the grass, and spent a lot of time keeping the Little One from eating the grass!

 

 

 

We played on the swing that Poppy made. It was the Best. Swing. Ever. It really got pretty high- high enough to make me a little nervous. The Big One loved it and asked to be pushed until our arms ached.

 

Grammie was lucky and got to give kisses to the Little One. The Little One is very much a mama's girl, but we learned that after a nap and with a full belly, she was much more agreeable to hugs and kisses from Grammie.







 

The Captain was anxious for my uncle to get out of work so that he could go fishing. They didn't go fishing, but he did get his fishing license.

 

 The Big One scraped her knuckles while playing on the walk, so after getting her fingers bandaged with princess band-aids, she decided to take a break and check out the American Dolls catalog.



 

My aunt, cousin and uncle stopped by for a short visit (they live just up the road). It was a great day!

 

Baking With The Big One

I try to spend one on one quality time with the Big One whenever I can. It is sometimes difficult with the Little One needing so much attention- especially since I'm still nursing and the Little One is not a great day sleeper. I try to get them them both  down for a nap at the same time once during the day, so that sometimes limits our one on one time. This morning when the Little One fell asleep, I jumped at the opportunity to do something special with the Big One.

We were originally going to make Halloween cupcakes, but when I realized that I was out of cupcake liners I found a recipe for Chocolate Skeleton Cookies. I had all the ingredients (other than salted butter) so we quickly got to work. When the Little One is asleep time is of the essence!

We had a couple of mishaps along the way...

The recipe calls for softened butter, so I took it out of the fridge and put it into the microwave. I pressed the soften button twice because I was softening two sticks of butter. When I pulled it out of the microwave it was foamy on the top and completely melted! It was then I realized that the numbers are the amount of pounds of butter you are softening! DOH! I set it in the freezer for a few minutes, but didn't have time to wait so I just tossed it in, hopeful it would turn out okay.

Then, I woke up the Little One while using the mixer. I thought for sure we weren't going to be able to finish, but I put her in the high chair with some puffs and she was content long enough for us to finish mixing the dough. The Big One did such a great job pouring in all the ingredients and stirring the dry mixture! She's not a fan of loud noises and left the kitchen every time I had to use the mixer.

She was amazed that the brown sugar kept it's shape but the granulated didn't.

She liked pouring in the cocoa.

Stirring and stirring and stirring- it was hard to get her to stop!

The party crasher with her puff stuck to her face.

While they took their afternoon nap, the dough chilled in the fridge. After nap it was time to roll the dough and cut out the cookies! The Big One loved this part! It took her a while to figure out how to use the rolling pin, but she finally go the hang of it. I think her favorite part was making the dough into balls and pressing the cookie cutter into the dough. I have to admit, I was surprised at how well she did!

Pressing in the cookie cutter

Rolling out the dough

After the cookies cooled it was time to make the frosting and decorate the cookies. The Big One requested colored frosting, so I made a tablespoon of blue and a tablespoon of redish-pink. When the colors were mixed she said they looked like cotton candy. "I like cotton candy". She loaded her cookies with frosting and then took a taste. She really didn't like the taste of the frosting, so she ended up scraping most of it off into one of her tea set cups. While I finished decorating the cookies, she sat with me at the table pretending to drink her "cotton candy tea".

Scraping off the frosting.

The Big One's decorated cookies. You can see that she is putting the frosting in her tea cup.

The finished product.

The cookies are really yummy and we had a great time baking together. Even though the Little One crashed our baking party, I'm glad we had a little time just the two of us. I love times like those!

If you would like to make your own Chocolate Skeleton Cookies you can find the recipe here, on Mama's Crafty Kids!

Vacation: The Aftermath

I love vacation! The excitement builds as you count down the days and optimistically you make plans to see the sights or meet up with friends and family . "Hope to see you" e-mails and facebook posts are met with well-intentioned "We'll make sure of it" or "Of Course! Can't wait to see you!"  Every day of vacation is packed with promises of meetings and activities, much like the overstuffed suitcases refusing to zip closed.

Inevitably on vacation something or many things do not go according to plan. Vacation days seem to have less hours in them than regular days and before you know it, half your vacation has gone. Kids get sick or cranky, it turns too hot or cold, schedules conflict and everyone gets tired. Inevitably the self inflicted pressure to do everything and see everyone injects stress into your escape from reality.  Before you know it, it's time to go home. The list of "must do's" has not been completed and you board the plane wishing you would have...

If you have  been following my sporadic (at best) posts, you are aware that we have recently come home from a vacation in New Hampshire. I was born and raised in New Hampshire, and it is where most of my family still resides. We had a great time, and although we didn't get to see everyone we wanted to, it was nice to be "home". I will get around to blogging about our vacation soon...

A taste of "home":

We have been home for exactly 9 days and I still have a suitcase needing to be unpacked, laundry to be put away, and empty suitcases and carry-ons to be stored. Until yesterday only the carry-ons had been unpacked (all credit goes to the Captain for that). I just can't seem to recover from my vacation hang-over.  I expected the first couple days home to be met with the usual sadness of missing family coupled with regrets of those I didn't get to see and visits that were too short or disastrous. I did not, however, expect to have such a difficult time getting back into our groove.

For the past two days I have been forcing myself to accept that my escape from reality is over. I once again must cook and clean, entertain the girls (without back-up) and do laundry. Bills need to be paid so the Captain must work and that leaves me home alone with the girls 12+ hours a day. Both girls came home with ear infections so there are doses of antibiotics to be given, snotty noses to wipe, humidifiers to fill and whining to be heard. I have left behind the warm days and cool evenings and returned to a dew point that increases the temperature 15 degrees. Entire days spent outside have given way to the comfort of the AC indoors.

I know that this too shall pass. The girls will get well, the Captain will eventually have a day off and the weather will soon remind me why we live here. We will soon fall back into our routine of Story Time, gymnastics and play dates. Preparations for Halloween begin the frenzy of holidays and birthdays, leaving little time for the "after vacation blues". With a little luck, it won't be two years before we are able to visit "home" again!

Never Forget

9/11/12: The 11th anniversary of the worst terrorist attack in American history, and also the day my husband, children and I boarded a flight to New Hampshire. As we shared with friends and family our vacation plans, the date of our outgoing flight was met with questioning and surprised looks and many comments like "You're flying on September eleventh?!?!? I have to admit I was a tiny bit nervous about the date, but more so that I would be flying with two small children. I had no idea what an effect the date would have on me.

While packing and preparing to leave, I wondered if security would be heightened on the anniversary of such a horrific day, and was slightly obsessed with arriving to the airport early. I thought of the many passengers on those four fateful flights, packing their suitcases and carry-ons, oblivious to the events that were about to unfold. Those passengers were not consumed with double checking the list of banned items, or carefully selecting containers that hold only 3 oz of liquids.

The night before our flight, I watched the 9/11 specials that were aired- some new, many I had seen before, and the events of that day were fresh in my mind as we drove to the airport. We pulled into the economy parking garage, unloaded enough luggage for 10 people and headed for the shuttle. Imagine my surprise when we got off the elevator and the shuttle was sitting there as if waiting for us. What luck! I wondered how many people that day were also running ahead of schedule- also considering themselves lucky, if only for the moment.

We breezed through security even though I forgot to bag the liquids, and remove the baby food from the carry-ons. When I was pulled aside to have my hands tested for bomb making materials, it reminded me how much has changed since that day 11 years ago. Fifteen years ago, I wouldn't have had to remove the sealed baby food containers from my diaper bag to be tested. My children's sippy cups would not have been tested for peroxide. I could have carried nail clippers, 4 oz of hand sanitizer and a nail file in my purse.

As I sat at our gate (nearly 2 hours early), I looked around at others waiting for their flights. Families heading home from or to vacation, men and women traveling for business and pleasure. Folks with laptops, IPads, IPhones, and E-Readers lost in their own worlds oblivious to those around them. I thought of the victims and families affected by 9/11, whose morning that day probably started a lot like mine, and silently said a prayer for them.

The Captain and the Big One stood at the windows and watched the planes take off and land. I sat with the little one and attempted to keep tiny little hands off my laptop while I checked facebook. After tiring of the planes, the Big One took up residence in one of the work stations with a payphone, ate Cheez-its and fielded very important phone calls from Dora, Alicia and Diego.

In an effort to kill time we went looking for the play area that two years ago allowed the Big One to run off some energy, only to find it had been moved and significantly downgraded. Nonetheless it served it's purpose and before we knew it, the boarding call for our flight was made.

Later, while we flew over NYC, the clouds cleared and I was able to see NYC skyline. It was the first time I had seen it from the air without the Twin Towers. As I leaned back in my seat and pointed the skyline out to the Captain, I thought of the last time I had seen the city. It was about a week after 9/11. I was flying over and the pilot made the announcement that we were flying over the New York City.  As I looked out my window, through the clouds I could see thick black smoke billowing up from where the towers once stood.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman in the seat behind me draw the shade.  As I stared out the window in disbelief, I heard the woman behind me crying. As I looked around, I noticed several people were crying. Whether they had lost someone they loved or were just moved by the loss our nation suffered I will never know.

The tragedy that was 9/11 weighed heavy on my mind throughout our preparations and on our flight. Much like the rest of the world, I will never forget where I was when I heard the tragic news of 9/11. For days I was glued to the television, in shock, watching the same footage over and over, but that moment on the plane was what made the surreal real. The memory of the billowing smoke and the crying woman that drew the shade will forever be burned in my mind.

We had a great flight and made it to our destination without incident. Sadly, eleven years ago, the passengers of four flights, boarded a plane of terror and never made it to their destinations. Although, I didn't personally know any of the nearly 3,000 victims, I feel connected to that tragedy because of the experience of that one flight. My heart goes out to the families, and I will "never forget".

photo credit

Bubble Snakes

The Big One loves to blow bubbles. What child doesn't, right? It's a great outdoor activity for us, especially when the heat is suffocating, as it doesn't require a lot of movement. If you read my last post, you know that moving around a lot hasn't really been my style lately! :)

Anyway, we blow bubbles several times a week, and it occupies the Big One for 20 or so minutes at a time. She loves to chase the bubbles and try to catch them on the end of the wand, or pop them before they pop themselves. On breezy days (which is most days) she gets frustrated that the wind takes the bubbles out of her reach.

I found these bubble snakes on Pinterest several weeks ago and finally decided to try it out last week. It was super easy to do and the Big One had a blast!

Materials Needed:
Water Bottle
 Rubber Band
 Nylon stockings
 Dish Detergent
Scissors

1. Cut off the bottom of the water bottle and discard. 

2. Cut a section of the nylon stocking to wrap around the open bottom of the cut bottle. I cut off the foot, but the seam in the toe area seemed to hinder the bubble making, so another part of the stocking may work better.

3. Completely cover the opening of the bottle with the nylon stocking and secure it around the top with the rubber band.
When finished the bottle should look like this:



4. Make bubble solution by mixing dish detergent and water in a shallow container.  I have always used Dawn detergent because it seems to make better bubbles, but any brand will work. Make sure your solution is not too watery, but use more water than detergent (it may take a bit of trial and error).

5. Dip the nylon covered end of the water bottle in the solution and blow through the mouth of the bottle.

CAUTION: Small children will often breathe back in after blowing out and will get a mouthful of soap. It took the Big One a few tries before she was able to blow the bubbles out without sucking them back in.

See how long you can make your bubble snake.

The bubbles are fun to pick up- they hang around a long time before they start popping!



It was also fun to clap our hands when they were full of bubbles! Bubbles went EVERYWHERE!

 This really is a fun activity! I encourage you to try this with your little ones- if you haven't already!

Decisions, Decisions...

Sorry that I kind of left you all hanging after a recent post where I was battling the decision to return to work. I know you all have been dying to know what I decided to do (too bad you can't hear the sarcasm in my voice). Anyway....

Last weekend was a rough one. The mood swings I experienced made Sybil look sane. One moment I was sad and depressed and would find myself sobbing uncontrollably. Then I would be angry, lashing out at the Captain and impatient with the girls. In between the guilt nearly suffocated me. So saying it was a rough weekend (for everyone) is putting it mildly.

Every time I thought about leaving my babies for 10+ hours every day, my heart ached. I cried imagining coming home only to find that I had missed the Little One's first steps or first word. I was heartbroken to think that the Big One would miss the friends she has made at Story Time and gymnastics. I couldn't bear the thought that the Big One's routine would be drastically changed for the fourth time only two years.

I was angry. I felt the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I checked and rechecked my blog, hoping that someone would comment on my post and give me the answer I was seeking. I wanted the Captain to tell me what to do. He, being the wise man that he is, kept silent, allowing me to process every option, weigh every pro and every con. Surely he knew that him giving me the answer was not the solution and was nothing but a double edged sword. I was angry at the thought of him being there with our girls every day, watching them grow, while I was out growing someone else's business.

I was overcome with guilt. I knew that this was an opportunity that could bring financial freedom to our household. I knew that we wouldn't have to stress or worry about money. I knew that income would ease the Captain's and my mind, but deep down in my heart I simply didn't want to do it. I felt guilty that I didn't want to make the sacrifice.

The best and worst part was that the Captain left the decision entirely up to me trusting me to do what my heart told me was the best for all of us. In the end I decided that working in an industry that requires so much of me (regardless of the money), is not the best decision for our family. I knew that if I chose to leave my girls to work outside of the home for 50+ hours per week, and then not be 100% available to them while I was home, that I would never forgive myself. And more importantly I would be angry. I would be angry that I was missing out on some of the most important years of their lives and I would never recover from that. And the possibility that my marriage would also never recover because of my anger was just too big of a chance for me to take.

After all, in 40 years, my girls will not remember what toy I was or wasn't able to buy for them, but hopefully they will remember that I was there with them at story time  and gymnastics. They will hopefully remember that when I was home, my attention was 100% focused on them, not on a cell phone or on paperwork, but on them.

When I sat down with the Captain and explained my decision, I could sense his disappointment, but still he supported me. He told me that he understood, and that he thought all along it was the decision I would make. We discussed our options and came up with plans. We know that the next few months will be a struggle. I know that I may have to return to working outside the home, but not for 50+ hours a week, and in turn will not be bringing home a huge paycheck. We are working together to slowly build a better life for us and our family. The solution will not happen over night, but I truly believe that I have made the right decision. We will not resent one another in the end, because we are doing this together and for ourselves as well as for each other. We are both bettering ourselves and will be furthering our education to create the stability that we both crave.

It is going to be hard, but for me it's now or never. We certainly aren't getting any younger!

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The Root of All Evil

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." 1 Timothy 6:10

I am a stay at home mom. I have not always been. For the first time since my Firstborn was a baby, my job is raising my children. I have never had a more important job, or one that  I love more. Sure, sometimes my kids drive me crazy. I have zero "me time". Most days I am exhausted and I am lucky to get uninterrupted sleep in four hour increments. Every day is a struggle emotionally, physically and financially, but a struggle that I take in stride every moment of every day. I truly believe that my children and I will be better for it.

After the Big One was born, I started working part time. Things got ugly financially so I started full time. Even with me working full time, the Captain and I worked our schedules to keep the Big One out of daycare. Together, we made enough to pay the bills with little left over. Through this time, I received several calls from a company I worked for previously. Finally when she was 18 months old, I had tired of the financial crunch and accepted their offer for a very high pressure position in sales and marketing. My raise was significant. We put the Big One in daycare for the first time. She became a different child.

The initial transition was traumatic for everyone. I cried sobbed every day for the first week after I dropped her off. She was at daycare for 9-10 hours every day. Most days when I picked her up, I had to take her back to work with me to finish my day. After dinner and bath we had about an hour to spend together. I was on call 24/7. My phone rarely left my hands. I would stay up late finishing paperwork or planning events. To say I was stressed is putting it mildly. I wasn't able to give 100% to my job or my family. The guilt consumed me and kept me awake at night. But, for the first time since her arrival I wasn't worried about money. We went on vacation, bought a new car, and decided to have the Little One. Despite the guilt, and the lack of time with the Big One, I planned to return to work after the Little One's arrival.

Two months before the Little One arrived, I was forced to stop working due to pregnancy complications. My company did not hold my job for me. I considered it a sign that I was to stay home with my girls, and decided that I wanted to remain home until the Little One was old enough to go to preschool. I have now been home for 8 months. I have watched the Big One change from a shy, introverted child to one who now talks to anyone who will listen. At the playground she no longer clings to mommy or daddy, but seeks out others willing to play with her.  I  have been the one to teach her to write her name and cut with scissors. I  have been the one taking her to story time, gymnastics and play dates.  I have been able to watch her transform and grow. And in these 8 months I have also grown.  I have dared to venture out of my comfort zone and met two wonderful women who help keep me sane. I have not missed a single second of my girls for eight months and I have loved it!

It has not been easy financially. The Captain is now our sole provider. If you have been following my posts, you know that he is a charter boat captain. His income is primarily based on tips and is seasonal. This season, people are not as generous as they have been in years past. We are able to pay our bills with a little left over, but the season is getting ready to come to a close. Without additional income we are getting nervous.  He plans to work offshore (in Louisiana) once the season ends. This means that he will be away from home for 28 days at a time. I can't imagine him regularly missing out on an entire month of our girls growing up.

I have been recommended for a job making a significant amount of money. Once again it is in sales and marketing. It means long hours, evening events, being tied to a phone, and being unavailable to my girls. It means I will be stressed out and short tempered. It means missing out on the every day things, and being angry that I am. It means once again being filled with guilt. It means that once again the Big One's life would significantly change. It also means financial security. It also means that though I would miss out on 50 or 60 hours of my children's lives every week, I would be there to tuck them in bed at night- and the Captain would be there too. He wouldn't be on a boat thousands of miles away for a month at a time.

I have to make a decision by Monday. I can't help but feel that if I decide to decline the offer, we would find a way to make it. It may be rough for a while, but at this point in the girl's lives time is what matters not material things. But if I chose the road to financial security, what price am I paying? Can I really put a price tag on my girls' childhood? I will never get back these years. Is it really worth the money?

What price tag can you put on this?

What do you think?


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Beach Prayer

It's been a while since my last post. Guess I've been in a bit of a writing funk, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things.

Yesterday The Captain and I took the girls to the beach. The Big One loves to go to the beach...actually we all do.

The Big One

The Little One

The Captain and The Big One playing in the surf

I love the beach for two reasons:

 1. I love that the sound of the surf is so relaxing and usually drowns out all other sounds around you. I could sit in a chair on the beach for hours with my eyes closed, just listening to the waves crash on the shore.

2. It is a great place to people watch. In the time it takes for them to pass by, I try to figure out their "story". I see the boogie boarders trying to impress the cute young girls sitting on the beach and the families dippping their little one's toes in the water for the first time. I look for the untanned bodies, cameras in hand, posing with friends or family snapping photos to document their vacation. The couples nicely dressed, having an after dinner beach walk, some with the nervousness of a first date, others walking hand in hand... comfortable after years together, seeking the perfect spot to enjoy the sunset.

The Big One tends to draw a lot of attention to us with her squeals of delight as she runs in and out of the water.  So, it was not unusual when I spotted a woman talking with The Captain and The Big One while they were playing in the sand. I heard the Captain tell the woman to have a good evening and as she walked toward me she replied "It's going to be a long one."

She walked over to me, sitting in my beach chair, The Little One in my arms, and smiled. "Enjoy the evening with your family- what's left of it."

"Thank you. You do the same." was my reply.

She stood there for a moment looking at us. "Pray for me tonight. I have Alzheimer's, and it is so hard" she said to me. "Please if you could pray for me tonight. Pray for Carol."

And before I could reply she turned and walked away. And right then I prayed for her. And then I thought that I would do one better and write this post and have others pray for her as well. I turned around and quickly snapped this photo of Carol. That is Carol, in the purple shirt walking away.

I'm not sure why, but she has been on my mind since I took this photo. Maybe it was because she appeared so young. Maybe because I can't imagine the fear she feels every day knowing that one day she will no longer be able to remember. One day she will be unable to recognize those closest to her. One day, she will be unable to recognize herself. Maybe it's because for some reason she reached out to me, something spoke to her heart and she asked me to pray for her. Before I went to bed last night I prayed for Carol. I prayed for her family. I hope you will do the same.

Proud To Be Sugar Free?

This afternoon while making The Big One's fail safe peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch she informed me that she wanted just a jelly sandwich. Apparently, she no longer likes peanut butter. Since yesterday. Yesterday peanut butter was fine, today she only wants the sweet stuff.

After informing The Big One that no way, no how was she going to have just a jelly sandwich and slathering the peanut butter on her crust free bread, I got to thinking. It wasn't always like this.
I remember a time when I proudly boasted that The Big One rarely ate sugar. I would joke that she thought graham crackers were "cookies".

Photo Credit

Up until around her second birthday, she had never tasted soda. When in line at the grocery store, I would tell her that the candy was "medicine" and she believed me. She loved her fruits and vegetables. Graham crackers were indeed her sweet treat. "Sugar Free" (for the most part) was our rule.

And then somehow it all changed. I'm not really sure how or when. Maybe it was when I went back to work full time -she was 18 months old. After a long day filled with mommy guilt, I often had to bring her back to work with me to finish out my day. All she wanted to do was go home, and to keep her from littering my office with brochures, rummaging around my desk, and writing all over legal documents, I would take her to the snack machine. She would stand there for several minutes picking what seemed most appealing- in the beginning picking pretzels or  potato chips, later graduating to cookies and then M&M's. After finishing my work day we would drive to pick up the Captain (at the time we only had one car) and have to wait for him to finish. We would walk her down to the Marina store to pick out some ice cream and get a drink to keep her occupied while sitting on the boat.

Maybe it was when she hit those terrible two's and we would bribe her with treats to "just be good" while we finished grocery shopping, or promises of a treat after shots at the doctor's office. Whatever the reason we have created a monster.

Photo Credit

The "sweeter the better" has now become the rule. Ice cream, M&M's, Tic Tacs, and Spring Rolls (Swiss Cake Rolls) have become part of the daily routine. Requests for grapes, apples, and blueberries have been replaced with demands for chocolate cake, cookies and candy. She looks forward to The Captain coming home as he usually has some kind of treat for her in hand when he walks through the door, and if he should come home empty handed she rummages through his lunch cooler tossing aside bananas and oranges seeking out the "good stuff".


Tomorrow I will do better. Tomorrow I will not promise treats for good behavior, but instead will offer Mommy-Big One time for rewards. I will attempt to replace the cookie with sugar free pudding. When offering choices for snack I will omit the sweet stuff and offer options of fruit or snack of a more healthy variety. I vow that tomorrow I will start the transition so I can once again proudly say "Sugar Free" is the rule.

Photo Credit

Do your kids eat junk food?  How do you encourage good eating habits in your household?