Spring Break Baby!! How To Entertain a Toddler on a Plane

For this spring break I hopped on a plane with nothing but my bikini and a good book in a backpack in search of a righteous beach and a minty mojito.

Or I laboriously packed my carry on with ten thousand things to entertain a toddler on a 50 minute flight to Ohio to visit my parents.

If I'm being a hundred percent honest I would prefer to do the latter, which is a good thing because that's what I did.  For the most part Callah was very good on the airplane.  I opted to hold her in my lap and save the $400 price of her ticket for a rainy day.  It was a bit difficult to contain her 18 month old enthusiasm from scampering up and down the aisle, but my bag of goodies helped in this area.

Tip #1:
Pack an outrageous amount of food.

Tip #2:
Raid the toy box...and buy a new toy!  I bought a couple new toys at Target in the dollar spot area and hid them until we were on the plane.

Tip #3:
Coloring book, crayons and stickers.  She wanted to pull the tray up and down a million times, so being able to put a coloring book on it distracted her from that activity.

Tip #4:
Patience is a virtue.

On the return flight United kindly put us in a row with an empty seat.  Callah buckled and unbuckled the seat belt an average of 5,000 times on that flight.  When all was said and done we only had one meltdown and the flight was well worth the fun visit we had with my parents.

The FLU and an explanation for my absence

Three days laying on the sofa can make a person introspective.  Once I've exhausted the finite number of episodes of "Call the Midwife," there's nothing left but to think.  I don't do well with too much time to ruminate about life's imponderables, it has a tendency to blow my mind then make me anxious. I've always had a bent towards the melodramatic, from the age when skinned knees were akin to amputations right up to full mourning for a break up. It shouldn't surprise me, then, that when I have the flu I always without fail, think I'm dying. I tearfully tell my husband there is something very very wrong with me.  I pitifully ask for a glass of gingerale and an ice pack cherishing them both as if they were my last meal.

Something about this flu seemed even more pathetic. As I lay on the sofa fully immersed in my misery, I was aware that I had a daughter to take care of.  I heard her being brought home from the babysitter's and being given her bath.  I was forbidden by my germ phobic husband to have contact with her, so I waved at her as she was wisked off to have her diaper changed.  Perhaps most traumatizing was listening to her tears when she was being put to bed without our nightly nursing ritual.  I didn't have the strength nor the desire to pass on my germs, so I listened to her cry.

Being a parent makes everything just a bit more special and a bit more difficult.  Eventually the flu made it's rounds through our family.  First the projectile vomit of Callah where I spent two hours wiping the floor, Callah and me up and waiting for the next eruption.  She felt fine the next day, but by that time my husband was laid out flat for two days.  Remarkably that was the first such experience for us and although it was a rough week, we survived it and all still love each other.

The flu and spring break explain why I have been so remiss about posting on my blog lately.  I hope to get a few more posts and pictures of the last few weeks up shortly.  In the meantime, I plan to relish the spring and enjoy the health of my family!

Working Mom Accomplishments & Time Savers

Last night something wonderful happened--I finished my book!  I wish I meant a book I was writing, as that would truly be a sense of accomplishment.  Sadly, it was just a silly murder mystery that I have been reading for so long I've renewed it at least twice.  My husband teases me that I read 3 pages and pass out, and it's not far from the truth.

My job is tiring.  At the end of the day I feel weary.  I've long ago used up my patience and when I crawl into bed at, let's pretend it's at least 9 pm, I am ready to succumb to the day.

So, yes finding out after all these weeks who killed Joy Something-or-Other (I've already forgotten most of the plot) did feel really, really good for about three seconds until I conked out.

In honor of those precious three seconds at the end of every day I've made a list of all the ways I try to save time each week.

Make ahead lunches.  This week: wraps!

Make a menu at the beginning of the week.  Probably everyone does this, but it's not something I did until I met my husband, it's genius.

My job allows me the flexibility to work late one night a week.  I usually leave work at 3 pm, but one night a week I will stay later and plan and organize for the following week.  I never, ever leave work Friday until everything is all ready for the following week.  Then I don't give my job a thought over the weekend.

Work through lunch.  I started doing this out of necessity as all my friends that share my lunch hour were out on maternity leave, and I was sitting in the creepy teacher's lounge with only the giant rat trap for company.  So off to my classroom I went, where I can eat and work on an IEP at the same time.  Trying very carefully to not leave any crumbs, of course.  No giant rat traps for me please!

10 minute speed clean.  I read this in a magazine once and it is brilliant.  When I get home from work I spend 10 minutes tidying up.  Sometimes I just have time to wash dishes, but other times I'll wipe the bathroom counters off and swiffer.  My house is usually not filthy as a result.

Since I have the luxury of not working for three months at a time, I know that mom's who stay at home fill up their days just as much as those of us who slog off to work every day.  So I'd love to hear more time saving tips from mom's everywhere!

A Perfect Snow Day

We accidentally had a perfect day yesterday!  I know, I know, I just pledged to document all my mess-ups, but this wasn't my fault.  Blame mother nature and the 8 inches of snow she dumped on Milwaukee.

At 6 AM I tiptoed upstairs to tell Nick (who was in the shower) to come back to bed.  I was too excited to sleep (I'm really like an 8-year old when it comes to snow days) so we read in bed until Callah woke up.  Bam! Reading on a weekday morning, already totally awesome.

After brewing coffee in my french press and making breakfast for the family, I walked Zadora before Nick had to leave for work.  Then Callah and I promptly made the most of our day!

The old stand-by: noodles and beans. 

I introduced shaving cream to Callah's world.  At first she just kept putting gobs of it into her mouth, but after trial and error she figured out that it was super fun to squish between her fingers.

The start of our adventure.  

No snow day is complete without baking cookies.  Here's the link to the recipe for these yummy snickerdoodles: http://lovintheoven.com/2010/03/even-better-snickerdoodle.html 

By 6 Callah and I were totally exhausted, so we had an early bath, lots of stories and snuggled in bed.  She was asleep before 7:30 and Nick and I had some TV time before ending our day much like we started it.

Words of Wisdom from Callah and Winnie-the-Pooh

High Needs Baby (Read: Colic!!!)

We were blessed with a high needs baby, a baby stuck in the "fourth trimester," a fussy baby, OK fine, a screamer!  From about 2 weeks to 10 weeks, if she was awake she was fussing, if she was asleep she was on me. If we stopped moving she started crying. She hated her car seat, her crib, her bassinet, and her bottle.  For about 10 of the 24 hours in a day she was swaddled in a sling and bouncing on an exercise ball.

I'm writing this post because as a mom with a new baby who seemed to be never content, I was desperate for support.  I gave up dairy and sugar in hopes that it would calm her tummy.  I gave up the notion of setting her down or sleeping for more than 2 hours at a time.  I accepted that we could not take her places after 5 pm.  I stopped going to my mommy-baby group because the happy babies who slept through the night caused me anguish.  I trolled the Internet for stories similar to mine and relished the ones that were worse.  Thank God for the mom who spent all night for a month driving on the freeways of Los Angeles.

The strain of having a baby that cries all the time was felt in our marriage and in my friendship with others.  I didn't want to talk about my baby with other moms because I felt insecure in my own mothering ability.  My neighbor Patti was my saviour, she would hold Callah so I could go to the bathroom or put away clothes, but most importantly she listened to me and hung out with me.  It was a lonely time being away from colleagues, friends and my family.  I felt isolated by a baby that I loved so fiercely that no one else (even her daddy) could say a negative word about her.

The funny thing is, as I write these words it seems like another person another lifetime ago that had those experiences.  Even though most evenings after 6 were spent with a pacifier, a bouncy ball, and a CD that played a hair drier; I still cherish those memories of the days (and nights) I spent with Callah as an infant.  In retrospect, what didn't I love about watching Netflix for 20 hours a day?  I couldn't push her in a stroller because she hated the stroller (I forgot to mention that before) but I got to wear her in a Bjorn as we walked around the neighborhood on sunny fall afternoons.  I loved that!  Yes, it was unpleasant to listen to fuzz blasting on the car radio to attempt to drown out the screams (which worked by the way), but compared to all the tiny little wonders of her new life it was a small price to pay.

From Baby to Little Girl- the birth of a person

Today I twisted Callah's thin hair into a teensy pony tail on top of her head.  That and her jeans, sneakers and sweater morphed her from baby to little girl.  It's hard not become nostalgic for the sleepy infant born almost a year and a half ago.  

Once you have a child your life quickly becomes separated into two parts--after kid and before kid.  Suddenly things that seemed important before she was born drop into oblivion.

My husband is writing a blog about photography and his last post talked about the feeling he wants a photograph to convey (http://wphotographicdesign.blogspot.com/).  In this picture taken immediately after Callah's birth I am brought back to the moment the doctor held her up to me and said, "do you see what you had?"  In the emotion of the moment I felt a rush of panic.  This is a test!! Don't fail.  Ok, it's ok, this is a girl.  Right, a girl?  I looked at my husband and he nodded his head.  Phew, passed.

Just a few hours before she was placed into my arms for the first time, I was sitting at home on the couch watching family members read the names of loved ones who died in the World Trade Center.  It was September 11, 2011 the ten year anniversary of 9-11.

Since Callah's due date was still a week away, my brain, novice in the ways of childbirth didn't recognize what was going on in my body as early labor.  I sat on the sofa and sobbed--for the victims and for their families.  By eleven that morning we were on our way to the hospital.  After a terrifying few minutes in which my room suddenly filled with five people talking anxiously about heart rates, I had an oxygen mask on my face and was wheeled through the hallway to a birthing room.

As seems to be the theme with most birth stories I read, the day didn't go how I planned it in my head.  I had made a carefully researched play list, intended to labor on the exercise ball and in the bath.  Nick and I thought we'd play Scrabble (ha) as we waited to go to the hospital.  Our classes told us labor could last days and we would most likely be at home in the early stages of labor for 8 hours.  As it happened we left our bag in the car and Nick was afraid he wouldn't have time to run and get the camera before our baby was born!  Needless to say the ipod and exercise ball were completely forgotten.

I don't want to ever forget the amazing day Callah Mackenzie Woods was born.  Although she shares her birthday with an infamous and sad anniversary, I hope that she, like the meaning of her beautiful first name will bring peace into the world.

All grown up.

The Zoo

What is a really good idea is to go to the zoo late on a Sunday afternoon in February.  

While it's true that the bears are hibernating and I couldn't locate the flamingos anywhere...

The tigers and jelly fish were awake.

The buildings were empty save the animals and a little girl in a bear suit.

We had a great time!

The Library

I have carried or dragged enough screaming kids out of public places that you would think I would be immune to it with my own child.  Well, not so my friends, not so.

There are cards you can make up if you have a child with autism and pass them out to strangers in restaurants or museums so they will stare sympathetically instead of judgingly.  These cards say something like, "my child has autism and some behaviors you can expect are..."  Today at the library I needed a card that said, "my child is 16 months and some behaviors you can expect are kicking, screaming, rolling around on the floor, and throwing books."

I think of myself as a good parent.  I'm not much of a pushover and it takes a lot to fluster me, but being tracked down by the librarian (carrying a walky-talky) and asked in a hushed tone if "everything was all right" is about my limit.  I snapped that my child was having a temper tantrum, and with as much dignity as a person carrying a toddler in a bear suit can muster, I went off in search of my husband.

I think because I work with children with such significant behavior problems I live in dread of my own child's misbehavior.  I'm constantly checking books to find out what exactly constitutes normal toddler behavior.  My perspective is a little whack, so I just want to be sure.  It turns out that "normal toddler behavior" might be a little elusive.  Either way, I'm pretty sure, my best days of carrying screaming children (my own or otherwise) are still ahead of me.