Preschool Financial Wisdom

I don't know how it happened, but we seem to be teaching Turbo some lessons on money without any real plan or intent. I hope we don't mess up his financial future.

Some background:

1. Turbo has developed this lovely little habit of flicking the lights on and off (and on and off and on and off). I've tried various methods to get him to stop. No dice.

2. One time last week when Turbo asked if he could get a special treat at the store on the way home from school, Dad replied, "Do you have any money?" - the next morning as he woke in his usual half-awake grogginess he said to me while rubbing his eyes, "Mommy, can you help me find my coins?" I was a little lost until I heard the story of how special treats = money.

3.We had dinner at a local restaurant on Saturday night with some friends. There was an enormous gumball machine in the lobby and when Turbo asked if he could have a "ball" we said to him, "That costs money. We don't have any money right now." Uh, what? I can't always explain the things we say as parents.

On Sunday, Turbo was doing his on-off-on-off trick with the lights and this time I tried reasoning with him.

Me: "Please don't do that. It wastes money when you turn the lights on and off and on and off. We need money to buy things like food and toys."

Turbo: "And balls at the restaurant?"

Me: "Yes, and balls at the restaurant."

Later that day I was washing dishes while Turbo ate a snack at the kitchen table. He got my attention and I'm so glad I turned in his direction to witness the visual that went along with this statement.

He blinked both eyes as hard as he could - on, off, on, off - and said, "Mom, this wastes money."

It's Been A While

Dear Blog,

I have not forgotten you. I think about you every day and have composed rough drafts in my head quite often since we last had contact. Not that you would know this.

It's just... well... March has been a rough month. If I were to sugarcoat it I would say something like, "Oh, ya know, it wasn't the best month." If I wanted to tell the truth I would say something more along the lines of, "March kicked my ass and I'm weary and exhausted and I want April to come roaring in and take over and shower me and everyone I know with kindness and goodness and laugher and love."

It's been hard to find the right words to express the grief that has pounded my friends and family this month. I haven't been sure I could or would write about any of this on something as light and fruity as a blog.

Death. Grief. Death again. More grief. These are not the topics I typically explore with you, my silly blog. But I am affected and I am grieving and I am sad and I am mad and I am desperate for answers on how I can protect my children.

I know they do not belong to me. I know one of the most important jobs I have as a parent is to let them go, to raise them to be self-reliant and independent and able to survive on their own. They are supposed to leave me. I feel both privileged and heart-broken that this is my role. I'll do it, though. I love them fiercely and I will do this.

This grief that has settled into our world has caused me to hug my kids more tightly, to stare into those hazel eyes and marvel at how they even got here in the first place. I've also stopped fighting with my husband over unmade beds or spilt milk. My life is like a sieve, where the smaller, unimportant pieces have fallen away and all we're left with is the big stuff, the stuff that matters like love and hugs and laughter and the now.

Heaven. Eternity. Reincarnation. The Afterlife. These worlds swirl around in my head alongside their less fabulous counterparts like hell, mourning, and organ donation. My mental ping-pong has been exhausting, zipping from one topic to the next with dizzying speed. And then it settles once again where it should settle: on my family. And I feel peace in knowing that we are together for now, for as long as we get.

Kahlil Gibran said it with more poetry than I could ever match.

On Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

Stuck in the Middle

When your brain wants two conflicting things, you can give yourself a real whopper of a headache.

My daughter, now 18 months, is a really good sleeper. I am overjoyed by that because it took my son forever to really be a good sleeper. I think he was two years old. Right now I mostly have two good sleepers and I thank my lucky stars because I've been on the bad side of that more times than I care to count. Counting would just depress me and I prefer to remain blissfully unaware of how many fractured nights of sleep I have endured. Note to self: do not do the math.

This week I am craving cuddles with my kids more than ever. I want to hold them forever and never let them go. It's been a bad week, and I'm still struggling with how to or whether to write about why that is. For now I will say that I am staring at my kids more, hanging on their every word, and marveling at their perfection even when they are Mr. and Mrs. Crabby Pants.

This week I have made sure that I am the one putting Smiley down for the night.  I look forward to a few minutes of cuddling, to whisper "I love you" into her curly locks, to sing the same songs my mom sang to me, to read a nostalgic book like Runaway Bunny, and to basically bond with her so she knows without a sliver of a doubt that I am the best mommy in the word... and what does she do? She sits in my lap for all of a millisecond, wiggles down to the floor, waddles over to her crib, and points. I barely get a glancing kiss on the back of her neck, nevermind a kiss on those perfectly chubby cheeks, before she practically dives into her crib, and snuggles with her stuffed pig and says, "Bye."

Yes, folks, she actually says, "Bye." Not, "night, night" or "mommy!!" or gibberish. For this independent young lady it's a brush-off-esque, "Bye" and she's in her own world.

It would be unwise for me to complain about a child who so easily puts herself to sleep, and who is also a solid 11-hour-sometimes-more sleeper.

But I ache for another cuddle.

Tomorrow, little one. You will be mine and my arms are waiting.

Life

Is

Worth

Living

Recipe: Banana Bread

This banana bread recipe has been in my possession since college. It was written by one of my two roommates and we used to bake this quite frequently in that ill-insulated little house of ours. I'm not entirely sure how I lucked out on getting sole ownership. Gee, I hope I didn't steal it...

Recipe - Banana Bread

It's so simple and delicious, yet I am curious if there are better or at least healthier recipes out there. Note to self: ask friends on Pinterest and Facebook.

Banana Bread Recipe:

1) combine:
1/2 c. butter
1/2 c. sugar

2) add 2 eggs

3) add 2 large or 3 small bananas - and you know I mean the mushy kind, not the green ones. A banana has to be about a week past where I'll eat it for me to transform it into bread.

4) mix and then add:
2 c. flour
1 tsp baking soda

Bake at 350 for 1 hour

optional: add semi-sweet chocolate chips:

chocolate chips added