An end to mealtime agony

I'm feeling like Queen of the World right now: I made a discovery that just may change mealtime as we know it.

You see, I have a picky toddler. You know, the kind of kid who only eats about 10 different things and refuses anything else, with varying degrees of vehemence. It's not technically a serious issue, because he's growing just fine and most of the things he does eat are extremely healthy (he lives off of fruit, green smoothies, applesauce, Greek yogurt, and peas & carrots). But any mom of a picky eater knows the emotional agony mealtime can bring. It's a power struggle each and every day, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.

We've tried just about everything — having him help prepare the food, allowing him to choose from a selection, ignoring his actions completely, forcing him to try new foods (I'm talking literally forcing him), weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth, bribing, offering incentives, etc. etc. etc. Nothing has worked.

Lately we've had mild success with offering a more enticing food if he eats what's on his plate, but that quickly wore off. But today a lightbulb went on.

Evan and I were sitting down to lunch right before his nap. Actually, I was sitting down, he was climbing on and off the bar stool, occasionally swirling his applesauce and asking for crackers. Things were on an even keel for the day and I was not about to send them spiraling with a battle over a few bites of applesauce. Suddenly, I knew what to do.

I turned on the timer on my phone.

I said to Evan, "I'm setting this timer for 5 minutes. When the alarm goes off, lunch time is over and we're going upstairs. If you finish your applesauce before it goes off, you can have some crackers."

And it clicked.

For whatever reason, this did the trick. He happily ate it all, and still had time for a few Wheat Thins before trotting up to bed.

Later that night at dinner, I was reminded of this trick when Evan again refused to eat the carrots he had chosen. I told the hubby about how well it worked at lunch, so we gave it a whirl. Aaron was dubious, but the minute I told Evan I was starting the timer, a miracle occurred: He looked at us and said, "Oh, I'd better eat these carrots!"

VICTORY!!

It took more than 5 minutes, but he was steadily eating the entire time so I secretly pushed pause every now and then to keep the illusion going. When he'd start to lose interest again, I'd hold the phone up to show him the timer. He'd say, "Yep, it's clicking away!" and get back to business. Adorable.

I think this method works because it jibes with Evan's primary motivations: competition and the desire to be independent. It also has something very powerful going for it: the ability to make the phone, not the parent, the enforcer, eliminating any chance of negotiations and power struggles. And, it's finite. Once it goes off it's over, and there's no going back. Sorry, Charlie. Better luck next time.

I hope I'm not prematurely waving the victory banner, because with toddlers I realize things flip on their head in an instant. But for now it feels like a glorious, miraculous end to an increasingly desperate situation. Please take me seriously when I say that this may be an answer to our prayers, because I truly believe it is. Either way, I'm grateful for today, and I hope it can help some of you parents out there with picky eaters of your own.

Now, go forth and conquer!!

Two naps to one: Surviving the transition and getting things done

A friend's Facebook post reminded me of a dark and woeful time when Evan stopped taking two naps a day. Suddenly I was forced to do the things I had barely been able to accomplish during two naps in the space of about an hour. On top of taking care of the house, making important phone calls uninterrupted, showering and getting ready, and catching up on my freelance work, nap time is the only time to find a moment to relax during the crazy toddler day. When more than half of that time is suddenly gone, it turns even the most orderly mom into a depressed, anxious shell of a woman.

At least that's what it did to me. But after a week or two of moping, I had to face the reality that the second nap was never going to come back — and some day soon, naps will be a thing of the past altogether. I realized I had to adapt and change the way I do things in order to keep up with the new world order.

Keep in mind that the first few months of this transition will not be easy. Few if any children will magically switch to taking one long nap consistently. Finding the right nap time takes a lot of trial and error, and even then, it's still a bit different for us every day. It took several months for Evan to become a solid one-a-day, two-hour sleeper — and still we have some days where his nap is three hours and others one. The point is, just know that this period sucks no matter what, and that flexibility is the key to surviving this whole thing.

Here are some tips for making a the transition from two naps to one a smooth one.

Watch for your child's sleep cues. The signs may be different, but every child has them. Some kids start to space out, others get hyper, but most start to yawn and rub their eyes and get a little cranky. It's important to watch for this at all times, because there may be a point where your child will suddenly need an early-morning nap or late-afternoon nap to compensate for the fewer hours of sleep. This may happen consistently (my son, for example, went back to taking two naps after a few months of one, but it only lasted a few blissful weeks) or it may be every once in a while when the previous day's sleep just didn't cut it. Be sure to get right to sleep when you see these cues, however. If you go too far past the sleep window, your child may be too revved to sleep at all.

Substitute quiet time for nap #2. Until you can push the start time of the first nap later in the day, you may still need that second nap. As mentioned above, some days your child will fall asleep, but resistance is a more typical response. For children who are content to play in their crib or bedroom, this won't be as much of an issue. For children who need help being settled, use this time frame for quiet, soothing activities. Turn the lights down, close the curtains, and read a few books, sing songs, or listen to quiet music. Having this down-time will help your child feel rejuvenated and help you both relax.

Put some structure in your child's day. If you don't already have a schedule or routine, now might be a good time to implement one. It can be as rigid or flexible as suits you both, but the important thing is to let your child know what's going to happen before it's going to happen. This will not only help him or her transition from one activity to the next, but if they know when to expect nap time and quiet time, it lessens the chance of resistance when the time comes.

Put some structure in your day. Finding ways to streamline your life now that your alone time is so drastically shortened is crucial. Planning ahead and dividing up your important tasks will go a long way to ensuring that they actually happen in a timely manner. If housework is a priority, set up a cleaning schedule to spread the chores out throughout the week. Do the same with errands so you're not trying to cram too much into a tired toddler's day. Get up early to shower and get ready before your child wakes, or take a relaxing bath at the end of the day. The point is to spread your to-do list items and your me-time wants so that they no longer depend on those nap time windows.

Get help. It's true that there just aren't enough hours in the day to do all that you need to do. Luckily, you don't have to go it alone. Enlist your husband's help and do chores together at night, or have him take your child for an outing while you tackle a big project on a Saturday afternoon. Send your child to the babysitter a few hours a week or organize a kid swap with a friend to be able to relax and cross some things off your to-do list. Chances are, if you have people in your life who care about you and your child, they'll be willing to help if you just ask.

Do more with your child. When you only have an hour or two alone during the day, you're going to have to decide which of those things you normally accomplished during nap time can be done with your child around. For some tasks, you'll have to get clever to figure out how to do this with a toddler underfoot. As they say, cleaning the house with a toddler in it is as useless as brushing your teeth while eating Oreos. Look for an engaging activity (not just plunking her in front of the TV) to keep your child entertained while you pay the bills, give her her own pretend "makeup" to put on while you do yours, let him play on an old computer keyboard while you catch up on e-mails, and find ways for your child to do household chores with you (much more on this to come!). At this age they love doing whatever you're doing, so capitalize on this to get everything you can finished during awake time — without compromising your connection with your child — to save the really important alone-time tasks for naps.

Compromise. This transition is seldom a smooth one, for your child or you. While you may have the perfect plan in place, understand that chances are it's not going to happen, at least at one time or another. But remember, this isn't just about making your day easier — it's about doing what's best for your child's physical and emotional health. Keeping this in mind will help you keep some perspective when things don't go so well. You will also have to compromise some of your needs in order to smooth this transition along. Some of these sacrifices may be permanent, others just temporary. It may be tough to accept this, but that's what motherhood is all about: sacrificing for the greater good of your child and your family. In the long run, paying attention to your child's cues and addressing his needs are crucial to fostering trust and love and, ultimately, ensuring cooperation. And that makes everyone happy.

DIY Christmas ornament wreath

About four years ago I saw this little beauty online:

A stunning ornament wreath from Eddie Ross that I drooled over for years. I was lucky to come across such a find — mind you, I wasn't in the habit of trolling craft sites, and these were the days before Pinterest and before the explosion of Mommy Blogs, the days where if you didn't already have creativity flowing you had a much harder time finding simple yet beautiful DIY projects such as this.

Anyway.

This wreath has been in my mind every Christmas since then, and I FINALLY got my act together and made my very own:

Ta da!!!

And, because everything looks better on Instagram:

The instructions from Mr. Ross are simple and few, but I have some "been there, done that" lessons from the field I'd like to add. So, below I will give the instructions in bold with my advice to follow...

1. Start with a wire hanger, then untwist it and bend it into a circle. If you have puny muscles, like mine, this is harder than it sounds. Nevertheless, it can be done in a snap.

2. Gather ornaments for your wreath. This requires a LOT. I have about 35-40 on here, but it still didn't fill the length of the entire wire hanger. That's because, as you can see, they all have to fit together like a puzzle to make it look filled out.

3. Glue the metal caps to each ornament. I didn't do this step, but I sure wish I had. Two ornaments popped off and one broke because I was lazy. So please, glue the metal caps to each ornament. Also: If you have ornaments that are precious or sentimental, may I recommend you save those for other purposes. You wouldn't want them to be casualties of crafting gone wrong.

4. Slide the ornaments onto the wire. I started putting mine on willy-nilly, figuring the random configuration would add to the charm. I think it does, but because I used ornaments of different sizes, some of the proportions are a bit off. So, my advice is to plan ahead or at least have a good idea of which order the ornaments should be strung so that everything comes out consistently and evenly.

5. Twist the ends of the wire together to form a wreath. Again, easier said than done. It took a bit of muscle (or maybe I just used ridiculously a strong hanger — yeah, let's go with that) and, since I didn't have enough ornaments, I had to pull the wire closer together than it wanted to go. This was the part of the project where three of the ornaments popped off, so use your muscles but be careful.

6. Hang with a ribbon and enjoy. No advice here. This is one step I could handle with ease.

Merry Christmas!

How to patch a ripped inseam

Nothing makes a woman feel fatter than splitting a seam in her pants. I know this because I do it over and over again.

Yep, it's kind of embarrassing to admit this. But the thing I try to remember is, when you split your inseam, it's not about being large. It's about friction. I know this is true because I've been every size from a 2 to a 12, and it's happened at all of them.

Like a lot of women, I carry most of my weight on my thighs. On top of that, since I don't have very wide hips, my thighs touch. Always, even at my smallest. Thanks to the friction this contact causes, the inseam of my jeans is bound to take a beating.

I can't tell you how many jeans I've had to throw out that were in excellent shape everywhere else. Whether they were less than $20 or a ridiculous splurge over $100, this has happened in equal share to more than a few of my pants.

But no more.

I've figured out how to patch these inseam rips and salvage my favorite jeans for just a few dollars and in just a few minutes. Here's how:

First, it's a good idea to tackle this problem when the rip is minor, like this.

Because even though it may not look like much from the outside, the inside of the pants tells a different story:

Here's what you need for this quick fix:

• A glue gun
• An iron
• Iron-on denim patches, like these:

Why a glue gun, you ask? When an inseam rips it usually happens underneath the serged seam, which folds down to cover the rip. This not only makes it difficult to reach but nearly impossible to sew together again without taking in the entire pant leg. By lightly gluing the ripped seam together and more thoroughly gluing the serged seam down on top of it, you're essentially "plugging the hole" and preventing the rip from growing. Also, you need the serged seam flat for the next step.

So, turn your pants inside out and get to work.

Next, it's time to use the patches. They are used to fortify the fabric, so to speak, to keep it strong, to bolster the glued seam, and to lessen the chance of further ripping.

The patches are quite large for this project, but you can cut them to fit. I cut one in half (and rounded the edges, as per the product instructions). Keeping the pants inside-out, I laid the patch across the serged seam, long enough to go a few inches past either side of the rip.

Then I busted out the ol' iron, heated on the 'Cotton' setting. I pressed for about 30-45 seconds, then checked the edges to be sure all was secure.

And there you have it: a $2, 5-minute solution to an aggravating problem.

Mind you, the final result isn't picture perfect; after all, your jeans have experienced quite a bit of wear and tear, you know. But remember, this fix is all about containment: The rip will be stopped in its tracks and the denim given extra reinforcements to keep your favorite jeans in your wardrobe and out of the trash.

Good luck!

And now for something completey different

I've mentioned before that I write for ksl.com, which has a regular feature called "Have You Seen This?" It's all about the weird and wacky things found on the web, and it's an awesome diversion from the doom and gloom too often found in the news. Recently I wrote a "HYST?" feature (my first in over a year) and was anxiously awaiting publication — only to find that the video I had written about was already featured a year ago.

Curses!

But instead of bemoaning the fact that my oh-so-humorous story (I flatter myself) would never see the light of day, I decided to switch things up on the ol' blog today and post it here, in all its glory.

Without further ado...


Have you seen this? Being American sounds awesome

Say what you will about pop culture; singers, musicians, fashion designers and filmmakers in countries around the world have been trying to replicate American entertainment and style for decades — some even quite literally.

Take this 1970’s music video from Italy, aptly titled on YouTube “What American English sounds like to non-English speakers.” According to the video description, it actually has a much more complicated title: “Prisecolinensinenciousol.” What that means is anyone’s guess because the language spoken in the video is not Italian or English — it’s gibberish designed to sound like American English.

Italian singer, songwriter, comedian, actor, director and TV host (so says Wikipedia) Adrian Celentano performed — and, presumably, wrote and created — the aforementioned “Prisecolinensinenciousol” on the Italian TV show “Milleluci” sometime in the ‘70s, judging by the dancers’ penchant for bell bottoms and feathered hair.

How to describe this video? It kind of has a "Saturday-Night-Fever"-meets-"Welcome-Back-Kotter" vibe. Or, it's a glimpse into an alternate reality where Bob Dylan does funk, or Bob Fosse does funk, or both do funk together.

However you describe it, what follows is pure entertainment that, quite frankly, makes me proud to be an American — because by these standards, Americans look and sound awesome.

This video almost leaves me speechless (mostly because every time I watch it I’m a little out of breath from both laughing and trying to dance along, high kicks and all), but it does inspire me to leave a few brief parting words, a rallying cry, if you will:

“OLL RAIGTH!”

HALLELUJAH!

A miracle has happened at our house.

Evan has decided for the first time in his almost 2 years of life that it's OK to leave my side and be by himself.

For those of you who have not been aware of this ongoing dependency saga, just take my word that this is nothing less than a monumental event. Seriously. You see, every moment of every day has been spent not only with Evan practically glued to me, but with him erupting into hysterics if I leave the room he's in. OK, that's a bit of an exaggeration; there have been brief phases where he would play on his own for a few minutes, but every time I'd think we turned a corner he would go right back to his desperately clingy ways. The false hope is even worse than the event itself — but it kept getting worse. In recent weeks it's escalated to him throwing himself on the floor in kicking, screaming, wailing pandemonium if I so much as told him I was going upstairs.

Then just when I had reached the very end of my rope, when I truly thought I could take it no more, it all ended. Evan just woke up last Monday and decided that he would not only venture into other rooms alone, he would happily play with his toys for 10, 20, 30 minutes or more. Yesterday I got to vacuum our entire house while he played in the front room for almost an hour. That has NEVER HAPPENED. Ever.

But it gets better. Just today, I slipped out while Evan was playing in his room and sat at the computer. About 10 minutes later I heard him go downstairs and say, "Evan play all by himself for Mommy working." Honestly, no sweeter words could that boy have uttered. Hugs and kisses could not bring me as much joy as that little moment did, knowing that he's not only OK to leave me for a while, but he may even have some altruistic motive for doing so. What a sweet boy I am lucky to have.

Take my word: You seriously have no idea what this means to me. I cannot adequately describe the stress his clinginess has caused. Not only has it been completely emotionally draining to be so in demand, but to know that all your attempts at encouraging independence, or plans to actually perform a task unhindered, or wishes of going to the bathroom alone would be met with such vehemence is utterly exhausting. Compounding the stress is the fact that I work from home, and my ability to make money to support our struggling family is only as good as the time I have to devote to my work. On top of that, I've faced the daily guilt that this tug-of-war inevitably causes in a mother determined to develop patience and understanding and fulfill her child's deepest need to be loved. I have been truly conflicted in a way I've never felt.

But now we're here. We made it. We've had one week and two days of this heavenly bliss, so now I feel safe in trusting that this is here to stay.

How it all came about, on the other hand, I have no idea.

Truly, I am baffled. I'm overjoyed, but perplexed. I have no idea what brought about this change — and believe me, I have been trying in earnest to crack the case, because if Evan should go back to his old ways I want to know the trick that snaps him back into this glorious phase of independence.

Alas, I have no answer. All I can think is that my prayers have at last been answered, or I've learned some important lesson this situation set out to teach me, or Evan has simply outgrown a particularly trying phase, or all of the above.

I guess the moral of the story is this: Whatever struggle you're facing, as a mother or otherwise, hang on. There may be no way to pull yourself out of a difficulty other than to wait as patiently as you can for it to pass. You never know when the end of the road will be, so take heart. It could be just around the corner, so don't give up.

And when you make it out, don't forget to celebrate! Huzzah! Hooray! Hallelujah!

I'm off to treat us to some fries and Coke.

Scattered but strong

Wow, I can't believe it's been a month since I've written — and it has been a strange kind of month around here. I didn't mean to go on a blogging hiatus, and in fact, I wish I had been writing. That would mean I wouldn't have been living in this brain fog that's been my companion the past few weeks.

Nothing too life-altering has happened; I am simply feeling scattered and spread in too many directions. It's a natural product of my being a bipolar Gemini — always shifting moods, always catching onto big ideas — and sadly, I get to this place all too often. But at least now, as opposed to in my younger years, I hunker down and try to make sense of my world instead of running away from the madness.

One of the things I've been putting a lot of focus on lately is my latest professional endeavor. I've never mentioned this officially here, but those of you who know me in real life know I have a "Pinterest Test Kitchen" column on ksl.com, which recently made the jump to TV. So now in addition to writing weekly, I am featured every Thursday at 12:45 on KSL-TV News at Noon. When this opportunity finally came to fruition I felt like I had won the lottery. How awesome that I not only get to keep writing for a living, but I get to be inspired by and play around on Pinterest — legitimately! — and get paid for it?

Here are a few of my columns and TV appearances:

DIY dishwasher detergent recipes put to the test

Popular Pinterest recipes for easy, healthy, make-at-home snacks

Pinterest goes camping: Do-it-yourself ways to keep the bugs at bay

Anyway, I am so lucky to have this opportunity, but lately I've been getting really stressed about it. I have a grand vision and I have high hopes for this segment — not to mention the incredibly high standards I've always held myself to. Despite the success of the column, I'm still struggling to get my vision to translate to TV. This has led to an ongoing internal struggle, with me wondering daily if I need to try something else, or just suck it up and work harder, or if my energies would be better spent elsewhere and I'm just wasting my time. I can't figure out the answer to that one, so I am pressing on, ever pushing toward that mythical vision of success.

In the end, it doesn't matter what project I'm stressing over. This is what I do. My sister and husband continually chide me about this, because it's becoming a set-in-stone pattern: I start a new project and am completely gung-ho, proclaiming it the coolest thing EVER. A few months go by and my energy naturally wanes. Then, one hangup or another slows my progress, and I find myself in a cycle of self-doubt and frustration that takes another few months to power through. Then, I either find a way to work it out and circumvent the problem, coming out even strong than before — or I deem the effort a doomed failure and move on to find a new project.

And thus the cycle begins again.

It must be exhausting to live with me. If it's any fraction of what it's like to BE me, then yes, I can say with 100 percent certainty that it IS exhausting to live with me. And yet, I like to think my loved ones wouldn't have me any other way. OK, I may be totally making that up. It may be the thing that pushes my husband to his last straw one day, or the habit that drives me into eventual ruin. Or maybe the truth is this: that underneath the crazy-making self-doubt and frustration are the enthusiasm, drive, determination, and bold confidence that push me to succeed. Because yes, success (of varying degrees) is always a phase in that cycle, every time.

I didn't sit down to write anything in particular tonight; I mostly wanted to just push myself out of a writing rut. But as is so frequently the case, when I let myself follow where my writing leads I always find something redeemable about myself or my situation. I see a bigger picture and I see a moral to the story. Today, the bigger picture is that I am blessed with some pretty unique and exciting opportunities in life, and despite what roadblocks I come across, this is the bare-bones truth: I am at the heart of every failure and every success. It all depends on where I choose to stop in the cycle.

So, my message to you, friends: Don't give up. Take a step or two back if you have to, re-assess, and take a hard look at your life, but don't throw everything away in a time of worry and sadness. Don't believe your self-doubt; only believe the enthusiasm that pulls you toward all the good things in your life. It is what will take you to where your heart truly lies and where your success will take shape.