I'm done too.

My toddler is almost two.

end blog

Enough said right? No, but seriously. Libby is 21 months old and has reached a beloved phase of neophobia. The fear of new foods . . . I'm not some amazing person who just whipped that one out of her glorious vocabulary (sometimes I cheat on words with friends . . . ). In fact I just learned it today.

My mother sent me a link to an article about just this, and how to deal with meal times for toddlers.

It was helpful and encouraging, because I'm already doing a lot of what it suggested. It was very informative though, and right now I could just use some relating . . .

Last night I went to dinner guns loaded (for various reasons, but) mostly in anticipation of Libby refusing beef and veggie stew. (Which was delicious, thanks gram!) Her food was separated by type on her plate, because she doesn't really do mixed items well. She ate a few pieces and then suddenly I was being bumped by a plate that was being handed back to me. "Ah done" . . . No, no, no. You are not done.
The two days before this it had been discovered that if she was given a sandwich (dinner put in between two pieces of bread) she would eat it. So I attempted

halfheartedly attempted . . .

See I sit between the table and window in our kitchen. To my left is a high chair, to my right is my husband . . . there is always something (multiple) I forgot to get before trapping myself. Trapped is dramatic. I could slide the high chair out of my way, go around my dad, and get what I need . . . but seriously sometimes when you sit down to dinner you sit down. Not to get up again until you have to do the next thing.

So I made a sandwich with her dinner right in front of her. I really wasn't thinking about the fact that she probably wouldn't eat it if I made it in front of her until I had already started making it. So it was too late. Damage done. She did however eat 4 bites of it.
(At which point I said "whammy" and thought my entire day was a success just because of that moment.)

And then she started to pick dinner out of it and eat the bread.(Then I remembered I failed at being a good mother, just kidding, I really didn't care because it had been a long day and I thought, fine don't eat then. Sometimes I want to be like "I'm done too! Let's all whine and starve!")

Okay, so the article said not to offer an alternative. Just try again later. I get that. I do. I even agree. And then I remember that later I'll be nursing Ben again, changing diapers, stumbling over toys that someone has to pick up, and enforcing bed time . . . I'm not always going to want to come back to dinner. Dinner is when dinner is. I don't want to start the process of finding something she will eat all over again. I did that once, and it wasn't fun the 1st time . . . I also don't want her waking up in the middle of the night or early in the morning because she is hungry. I need my sleep, and now that Benny is sleeping through the night . . . I expect my sleep. Nothing worse than interrupting expected sleep. (Probably shouldn't expect it with kids so young, but I'm human. I desire and expect some amount of uninterrupted sleep.)

So she had Greek yogurt for dinner. Oh and top that off . . . my sister fed it to her. One of the joys and curses of living with people. Sometimes they do exactly what you were about to like in this situation. I was about to ask her if she would eat yogurt. I don't know if my sister saw my face and wanted to help me, or if she wanted Libby to shut it and eat just as badly as I did. But she jumped up and took over.

I've chosen to accept that there are things she will not eat. She might eat them 2 hours before, but suddenly no. She loves peas, and carrots, and sometimes beef, and sometimes potatoes . . . just not then. That's just the way it goes at this age. I'm going to try to get her to eat things, but eventually I claim defeat and feed her something she will eat without me having to pull out all the stops . . . She's too young for timers. Someday though . . . I look forward to "You have 2 minutes to eat those 2 bites of peas or you will go to bed." I was raised on the microwave timer method. It worked. We ate it or went to bed.

I will say that I give her healthy alternatives. We eat healthy in general so there really aren't bad options available. She just may have had more fruit than veggies or more dairy than something. Anyway. I'm all about peanut butter and jelly for dinner sometimes if it will get her to be quite and eat! Sigh . . .

She ate lunch with no fuss today, and is now waking up from a fabulous nap. I'm very distracted and can't remember if I wanted to write more before I just re read everything. So now I'm done. "Ah done."

Multi-Generational Living . . . What We Bring to the Table

Well as I have mentioned many times. We live with my parents.

Sometimes we even do it well. Most days are fairly good, but occasionally there is a week, or month, or maybe just a day when things feel really hard and I want to run for the hills.

Our house is full of people: me and mine (Sean and the two kids), my sister who moved back in after graduating from college last May, and of course the owners - my loving and generous parents (oh and their 2 cats . . . ).

My brother's fiance called it camp one day when we were joking about turning our home into a cat shelter/ home for our ENTIRE family. So we often refer to it as "camp" for good fun.

Needless to say we are on top of each other. My family lives in the finished basement, but mostly Libby rules the whole house. Toys are located all over the place. And I spend a good majority of my day upstairs where there is more natural light and access to the kitchen. So much easier to not have to be up and down the stairs a gazillion times a day.

The decision to embark on this adventurous living arrangement was not an easy one to come by. Our move was a bit desperate and full of fear. I think we would have done it even in the mind set we are in now, but I still wish we had been a bit more trusting of God. Anyway, it was a hard decision that we made. It was hardest on me. It hurt my pride to move back in with mom and dad. I had imagined success meant something different than what it actually means to me today. When I ventured away from home to the big (small) world of college I saw "Success = nice stuff, more $, perfection, etc." But success is nothing like that in my mind today. I do consider our debt accumulation an epic FAIL, but . . . not a lack of success. Our story isn't over anyway so to stamp "successful" or "unsuccessful" on it would be premature. Also, I'm not measuring my life against the "American dream" anymore. I had previously gotten into my head that I was going to achieve this goal in a very short amount of time and even more, that I was entitled to achieve it quickly. Weird.

Anyway. We are successfully making wiser choices with money. We are successfully enjoying our children every day. We are successfully living a simple life (with a rather complicated schedule . . . ). Our success is not measured by our bank accounts.

Life is not about the Benjamins, baby.
   (funny . . . my life is a lot about my baby, Benjamin.)

I do want to be in my own, separate home again. Someday.

Back to our multi-generational home though . . . When we moved in I was full of fear and regret, and then we had this honey moon stage of living all together . . .

It was so nice to see my parents and sister after all being away from each other for years. We are a very close knit family. Watching my parents enjoy Libby was fabulous. Having 3 extra pairs of hands in the house with a toddler and baby . . . AWESOME.

Yes, yes, all good things. Living together has not always been fabulous though. I'm not just living at home with my folks and kids. I'm a married woman with a FAMILY of my own. A whole new way of doing things suddenly collided with the way I grew up. Sean and I were only married for just shy of 3 years before we moved in with them. That's not a lot of time to establish yourselves and really stand out as a separate couple and family unit. I thought it was, but since being "back home" I've realized how hard it is to set ourselves apart from one giant family unit. The every day grind is done mostly without my husband around too, so it can be difficult to separate "our way" from "the way" in the house. I'm not sure if that will make sense to people outside of our situation, but I'm trying! And this is not about a right or wrong way of doing things.

Basically, we knew living together was going to present challenges, but what those challenges actually are have kind of caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting them, even though they seem kind of common sense. Of course our ways of living will collide . . . I just hadn't realized how different they were.

We all have different expectations of each other, different wants and needs . . . and different ways of communicating about it. Finding that happy medium can be quite challenging. You're constantly coming up against how someone else is doing on any given day . . . emotions, schedules, HORMONES,  . . . just so much happening all at once. The daily coming and going and interfering with someone's plans. It's just a lot to juggle. It can be hard not to feel like a frustrated teenager who doesn't understand why there is always someone to answer to! :) It would be nice to not have to speak and not worry about it offending someone. But in a house where there is rarely a quiet moment, not speaking usually means there is a problem, and that would prompt someone to come talk to you about it. Lol . . . it's so true though . . .

I'll tell ya what . . . communication . . . IS the key to EVERY relationship.

Sometimes it feels like I'm expected to always be in a good mood. I'm not always in a good mood. I am a mother of a toddler and infant.

They are a joy, don't get me wrong, but there are days when I seriously consider whether or not Libby could handle everything for the evening if I just took a hike . . . needless to say I always conclude that, even though she can now climb into a kitchen chair and occasionally put Ben's paci in his mouth right side up, she is not ready to baby sit so mom can have some alone time. Darn.

Alone time just doesn't really happen in a house with kids and several adults. There are lots of things you know you will give up when you have kids, but it's not until you have kids that you truly grasp what those sacrifices are like. I miss me time. I said it.

Lots going on here . . . lots to share, so hopefully I will be able to keep up here!

parents check this out for some giggles: 20 Thing Only Parents Will Understand