McCashew

This Week in Video: "Day 5: Caroline's Fifth Birthday, The Big Top Benefit with Jenny the Juggler"

2012-02-10T09:46:00.000-05:00

Caroline's Fifth Birthday was a very big deal. I blame Pinterest. Once I see something with my very own eyes and think, "I could so do that," it simply has to be done. I'm not one to pin and run. No, no, no. I pin and feel completely obligated to produce results. Thanks to Auntie Colleen for the pre-party footage, which also serves as a pretty nice review of things we have accomplished in McCasa thus far.

& after everyone had made a treat bag for the dogs at the shelter, and filled their bellies with pizza (except for Caroline who asked me just before cake for a "teeny, tiny slice of pizza") Jenny the Juggler arrived! & all was well & all were throroughly entertained. There was juggling (of course), magic, a sweet bunny to maul, balloon "rocket mice" for everyone, & face painting. If there hadn't been actual cake, she would have been the icing, but she was pretty darn wonderful & we were so lucky to have had someone as special as Jenny. See for yourself, she is pretty amazing. Want to see more? Jenny The Juggler

This Week in Video: "Day 4: It was like Christmas Morning, mostly because it WAS Christmas morning"

2012-02-09T13:13:00.000-05:00

A true pick me up. Children's joy on Christmas Morning.

This Week in Video. Day 3: "Because I know."

2012-02-08T09:39:00.000-05:00

Picture it. McCasa. Christmas Eve Night. Pre-Bedtime antics. Excitement bubbling over and a little brother unwilling to accept that St. Nick might come to his house.

This Week in Video. "Day 2: Frozen at School, Flashy at Home"

2012-02-07T09:56:00.000-05:00

This was Caroline's Holiday Concert at Preschool. You can't find her in that crowd of adorable singing children? She is very easy to spot. See over there, on the right hand side, in the front. See the ONE kid NOT dancing, nor singing, nor looking pleased at all to be there. Yup. That's Caroline.

The concert at school was two days prior to this video. In the interim, she spontaneously serenaded Uncle Marc and Kelly's family with "Jingle Bell Rock." This was before Kiki and Papa's Pre McFamily Holiday Party on Christmas Eve. We have no idea either.

This week in video. "Day 1: From This, To This"

2012-02-06T08:40:00.000-05:00

I always have PLENTY to say, some might even say TOO MUCH to chat on about. I'm dedicating this week to some sights and sounds around here. There is LOTS to see.

From This in December:

To This in January:

a complete handful

2012-02-04T22:15:00.000-05:00

As of today, Caroline will for the first time utilize her thumb to visually represent her age. Today our baby turns five years old. This is the point in writing this that I read and re-read that line over and over, staring at it blankly. Go ahead, you can do it to, I'll wait. I'm patient like that.

Yesterday, on the morning of her last day of being four years old, I snuggled with her in bed a bit longer than is advisable for a Friday morning. This later required "breakfast in the car" and resulted in a very sticky strawberry nurti grain bar covered brother, but it was worth it. I stared at her profile, tracing her button nose and lips against the window shade behind her. I inhaled the smell of her curls. I pulled her body close and the T Rex she had received the night before from uncle bubba roared making us both jump and explode into a chorus of giggles. We played a rousing game of "poke sleeping daddy" and when I couldn't wait another moment because good lord were the little einsteins almost to the point of rescuing the princess puppet already? I reluctantly pulled myself away from her and to the shower.

It's been a long week for various reasons both professional and personal. Steve's been trying to talk serious work stuff and I have been all, "hold on, I'm cutting these pennant flags." He's been all "what's a pennant flag?" and I've been all, "why don't you follow me on pinterest?"

Caroline's fifth birthday exploded into an epic event, involving nearly all her friends from school, short people belonging to our friends, and adoring family. There was entertainment, decor, a charitable theme, and two birthday cakes because BJ's wont do white whipped frosting on a full sheet cake. Last night I started to wonder what to include in this post and it occurred to me that perhaps maybe all this party planning was a way for me to cope with my utter denial that I have a five year old. Just maybe.

When I heard her whine from her bed this morning, instead of waiting for her to come to pattering into our room, heft her stuffed friends who slept with her up onto the bed, and then hoist her body up and between Steve and I, I jumped out of bed and went to get her myself. I had been up since six worrying about the party anyway. She jumped into my arms, locked eyes with me, the pregnant pause, and then, "FIVE!" She beamed sunshine from her soul, from the deepness of her curly hair covered eyes to the grip of her legs around my waist. We lay in bed us three for a few minutes and then I got up and retrieved her brother who immediately said, "Caro-ine Birthday!"

She had the most amazing time at her birthday, surrounded by her school friends and most of her extended family. There were nametags, doggie treat bags, popcorn, ringmaster mustaches on sticks, clown noses, a silly juggling clown of course, a real live bunny, face paint, balloons, and ice cream. Steve and I feel like we pulled off a birthday miracle!

I watched her soak in applause as the special helper to our entertainment with a smile on her face. Just a year ago she would have needed one of us to sit beside her, shield her from the attention, and the cheers. No, this year our Caroline sat on the sofa, piled between friends, legs crossed. Friends.

When everyone sang "Happy Birthday," I had to hold back tears. Our big girl, kindergarten bound, all the faces of the kids we have come to know, her first not introduced by mom and dad friends, singing to her in unison. It was just so overwhelmingly wonderful.

Before I put her to bed we had to wipe off the painted rainbow and heart from her face. The tears rolled down her face and she didn't have to tell me that it wasn't because of the paint. We both didn't want this day to end. She cried on my shoulder and when she faced the mirror to brush her teeth, the sight of her freshly cleansed cheeks made her look away.

I took her to bed and decided this was the night I would tell her about the day she was born. I told her how much we loved her before we met her. I whined to her about her impossibly late arrival. I marveled at how beautiful she was when she was born. I told her I had loved her the instant I met her with all of my being and everyday since, and that for the rest of eternity she would be always be my most favorite girl.

You know you love your babies the moment you meet you, you love them more and more each day. & then one day, you can talk with them, joke with them, tell them about the day they were born and they understand that you are telling them more than details, that you are pouring out your soul and they will reach up and wipe away your own grown up tear. The snuggle you have at bedtime with a five year old girl is very different than the snuggle you have with a one, two, three, or four year old girl. It's every bit as special, but so much more. I could tell in that snuggle tonight that we may be oil and water at times, but she and I will always be a team. You and I Caroline, we will have some tough times I know, you will do things and I will do things and we will slam doors and give each other the cold shoulder, but at the end of the day, let's always have that goodnight moment where everything is as it should be.

Happy birthday big girl. You amaze me and make me a better me.

the one about the night I realized they would always be ok

2012-02-03T10:00:00.001-05:00

A few nights ago we started the bedtime routine and I casually picked Connor up from the playroom floor for his tub and headed for the stairs. As is usually the case, he interpreted this as me ripping him viciously from his usual activity of an hour straight hockey extravaganza. (last night he impressed uncle bubba with an across the room snapshot with such speed and accuracy that it led his to ask, "where will he be playing in college?") Since the kids don't take tubs together anymore, we usually divide and conquer simultaneously. This means I take the little one and Steve lounges on the bed reading twitter while Caroline belts out the little mermaid (or more frequently made up songs that surprisingly make sense). please note, I still do this all the time. In the car yesterday, "gotta call the son, he's not very fun, I gotta call her son."

On this particular night, we were awaiting a kiki and papa drop by regarding the big top curtains. (curtains are amazing btw! She took my simple red and white ikea semi sheers that I had thought we could "maybe do something with" and turned them into something so fab. The true focal point of the room!) So I put Connor to bed and Caroline listened for them at the door.

Caro and Con are true hybrids of Steve and I, perfect little mixes of our quirky traits and expressions. Caro: hot bod, sweaty sleeper a la daddy. Con: ice cold feet when we unzip his sleeper even with socks on courtesy of mom. Caro shares my ability to fall asleep the instant her head hits the pillow. Connor could sit up for hours, quietly, just not ready to sleep.

So on this night, long after Connor was put to bed, his sister prepared herself for sleep and Steve walked by connor's door with a sleepy Caroline only to hear him still wide awake singing "abc." Adorable, but this was a full hour after he had been sung to, snuggled, kissed, and put down.

Here is where I have to note that we totally unplugged the monitor downstairs. We keep it on in our room overnight, but otherwise, what we don't hear doesn't seem to be hurting anyone. Steve has much better hearing than I do and at some point went up to check on them and Connor was whining. Caroline from the other room, in her own bed, "it's ok bud, you're going to be ok." from her own bed.

We celebrated and gave air high fives. Our kid stays in her bed! Sure, she shuffles still asleep into our room to hop into bed with us and demands, "tv," but we never hear the patter of feet who should be attached to a sleeping person roaming around up there.

Greater than that though is the comfort it brings me to know that the genuine love between these two is real and meaningful. They may fight over trucks and we may have to break up wrestling matches begun by one of them falling on top of the one ball the other one wants. They might resent each other's birthdays (a certain two year old is certain he is still the birthday boy). They are siblings with rivalries and disagreements and yet, they are so full of love for one another. Connor awoke this morning and I watched him leaning over the side of the crib, "caro-ine!" and she yelled back "Connor!" They continued on like that for several minutes, until I gave her permission to race in there with me to get him. When he is napping on the weekend, she at first enjoys the silence, but after a short time we find ourselves answering "when will Connor be awake?" We have finally reached the point where Connor will sit still to read a book (obsessed with Jan brett's "the mitten" right now) and I can put one of them on each leg and we can all yell "badger!" together. They are a team and even when I cannot be there, I know they will always have each other. These two could not be more different most times; whirling high sticking hockey crazy menace and quiet dollhouse role player and yet, in the quiet moments they sit together to build a fortress, color, make a puzzle, or flip through books it is clear that they are very much the same in that they more than anything else, enjoy having each other. Our dynamic duo.

the one about band-aids

2012-01-31T09:58:00.001-05:00

Last week we attended Kindergarten Information Night. I forgot my brown paper bag at home, but it turned out we didn't need it. In fact, we are filled with such excitement for this leap into the next chapter of Caroline's life. We saw slides on expectations for kindergarteners; things like walking in a line, sitting quietly, taking turns, using indoor voices. We sighed in relief when the principal reviewed the November benchmarks they are hoping this class of about 150 will achieve. We snickered because one of the items was "draw a picture that tells a story," which makes me think of our favorite picture Caroline has drawn recently, entitled "Daddy in the shower." No, she has never seen Daddy in the shower, but she did just start taking them herself and is pretty much in love with the hot water and the amazing acoustics. It's The Little Merrmaid all the time. We know she is more than prepared for kindergarten, already achieving many of the November benchmarks. I say that not to brag, but because we and her teachers feel that her success in this transition lies in preparation.

Caroline and change are not exactly compatible. Confidence in the classroom will help tremendously not just with her lessons, but in her overall coping of all the "new." We are also fortunate in that our school district has a transition day in the spring. Incoming classes get together in their rooms for the afternoon to meet and see the space. In late august, she will sit with us and her teacher for 45 minutes for a screening and a get to know you session. 45 minutes, What a dream, and yet, we still have some reservations. Caroline will love her teacher, but she will not now many of her classmates. In fact, the only ones she will know will be the ones I am able to get together with over the summer from transition day and that is a lot of pressure on mama to create connections, don't you think?

We made a huge decision last week to send her to day camp for the summer. Some of her good friends from school went last summer and we think it is a good first step in removing the preschool band-aid. She graduates on June 20th and she starts camp the following Monday. If you need me that week, I'll be buried under blankets watching slideshows of my baby with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of cheap wine. Camp. She will ride a bus, swim twice a day, learn camp songs, run and race and be a kid and oh, I am so excited for her. The hope is that her camp experience (in addition to being an absolute blast) will also help her gain confidence socially, thus making the whole September school start easier and less stressful. I am sure that by the time that rolls around she will be running away from me at school on day one, finding her seat, pulling out her crayons and waving goodbye, with a big sweet smile on her face. I will die a little inside, I will cry and she will not, and my big girl will be on her way. On her way to who knows what, something surely greater than I can imagine, limited only by her imagination and drive. This tenacious little girl, taking tentative first steps into the next chapter and instead of holding the page down, I am barely able to keep myself from flipping ahead.

Unplug

2012-01-24T22:21:00.000-05:00

From 1-4pm it is an all out race to the finish most days; Returning calls, checking messages, responding to said messages, documenting, sending emails over our ridiculously outdated system, documenting, and driving towards home in the process to avoid city rush hour traffic. I push myself to get it all done, so I can put the work away, both in my bag and emotionally/mentally out of my mind. Off my shoulders. It's hard sometimes. At any given time, one of my patients is probably in the pre active or active stage of the end of this road. I try to disconnect at night. My daytime life makes me thankful for every second of my life at home.

Tonight I was working with Caroline on her "share" for school tomorrow. She wants to tell her class that she saw the "big grey plane" that flew over the Patriots game Sunday. "it flew right over Kiki's house!" We found a picture of the C5, learned it had flown in from Westover Air Force Base back west. We printed a map of Massachusetts and traced the trip from Nana and Granda's to Gillette. While we wrote "go pats" and "87" and "12," Connor was playing hockey swinging the stick way to close to his sister's head. As our little geography lesson came to a close, I helped myself to my iPhone.

Clear as day, my little hockey player, "mommy, play with me." "put you phone down."

Yeah, that.

and the party theme was sports, of course

2012-01-22T20:30:00.000-05:00

We celebrated Connor's birthday while the rest of Massachusetts was sledding, shoveling or spending the day in pajamas. This is the risk you take in planning a winter birthday party. We kept the driveway clear, spread salt on the walkway, and crossed our fingers that everyone would get to us safely. Even my parents were able to make the drive across the state, though it took some last minute fine tuning to do so. We appreciated EVERYONE braving the roads to make Connor feel special. I'm sure they all felt warm and gooey on the inside when the birthday boy cried during the singing of "Happy Birthday."

and then, just like that, he turned two

2012-01-18T09:04:00.000-05:00

It hit me hard that my baby was enjoying his last day as a baby yesterday; the last day I could realistically state his age in months. I have been answering the question, "how old is he?" with "almost two" for far too long. Why? I lament now, wishing I had done the quick math in my head, "19 months," "22 months." The year flew as years often do, churning faster and faster with two full-time working parents and weekends stuffed to the brim with family time. Sure, we often spent a good chunk of that time in pjs chasing balls together, but to the working parent every second of that pj ball chase is to be savored and swallowed, digested, and recalled on a frantic Tuesday afternoon when I seem to miss them most.

Oh, the things I have to savor. Over the course of the year our Connor has become a sweet, outspoken, sports loving, pantless wonder. He heard new sounds thanks to a (now practically useless) ear tube placement in June. We marveled as he watched before unnoticed planes fly overhead and the new words spilled out of him like beans from a torn bean bag. While he rarely sits still, he often surprises me by plopping himself into my lap, just for a moment, reminding me that while he looks like he is three, he is my baby boy. He gives amazing hugs, complete with back pats. His voice has equal parts honey dipped sweetness and deep gutteral caveman. He has established unrealistic attachments to a handful of balls from his enormous collection. Each night there is a request for "orange one" or "football" and only a very specific match will satisfy. When Steve puts on sports, Connor will race to the play area to retrieve the appropriate equipment; hockey stick, ball and goal or football to tuck securely and safely under his right arm. He can name Gronk and Tom Brady upon sight and he knows which sport they play. He can tell you that his hockey team in the "buins." He is unsure of the Celtics and looks at me wild eyed when I ask him about the Red Sox. "What is this sport you speak of?!?" I think it is because he hasn't had a true full year season as a Boston sports fan yet and oh boy, am I am in trouble when Baseball season starts. The bat and ball will be out for sure. Breakables beware.

He loves his sister fiercely. "Where Caro-ine go?" We have reached the love hate stage, but I am happy to say it is mostly love. He parrots her every utterance, annoying her to no end, but delighting me to the moon and back. The two of them run wild at night, laughing and screeching and tackling one another. The kid has a mean tackle, from the knees, and he can take someone much bigger down without much effort. It is only a matter of time before he towers over his big sister. She will not like this one bit. These nightly screaming running rituals are often done half naked. Connor will pull at his clothes to indicate he wants them off, NOW. He gets his needs met and will often stand two inches from your nose and repeat his request until you fulfill it. It looks like this - except in recent months, you can insert "prep and landing" in place of "Mommy."

Caroline could be drinking from a regular cup all the time, but we learned you need to give them the exact same thing, the same contents, and the same amount or endure the Wrath of Con. The temper on this one, complete with full body on the ground tantrums, is like nothing we have seen before. His intense passion springs forth in this way too, and oh, two years old. It's going to be a year that tries our patience and makes us want to pull our hair out, but at least he finally reached a point where we can sit him in time out and he stays there. He's been getting more familiar with that bottom step. He will pull Caroline's curls, just to pull them. He will throw her doll house bath tub just to incite her. He will lay in her path and refuse to move, just to guage her reaction. She has gotten better at telling us and not trying to deal with it in a physical way herself. He has gotten better at flopping and forcing us to move his limp refusing to comply body from whatever "not nice" thing he is doing. In the very next moment, they will sit side by side silently coloring at their table, or relocate the entire kitchen for a picnic. They will sit in their comfy reading chairs and flip through books for entire ten minute spans! We do suspect brother and sister took perhaps their final shared tub last night. Legs and arms all twisted together, no room for both to lie flat and "swim." She prefers showers now and that feels like the end of an era. Growing, so big, so fast.

He took popsicles to school today to share with his friends and he was practically jumping out of his crib this morning to see his birthday cake, already frosted. He requested, "fuh-fetti" even though I offered him chocolate. The Mc-side of this family claims another one of the children.

And he is smart, oh so smart, but we only get brief windows into his understanding. Always curious, but not yet asking all the questions we know will come during this third trip around the sun. I can occasionally convince him to help me count while I get him zipped into his pjs and he astounds me by couting all the way to twenty, and I can't help but wonder if this is where his knowledge or interest ends. In his tub the other night he started singing lines from "Twinkle, Twinkle." I was shocked because while I sing this to him most nights in the bath and at bedtime, he has never once sung along. Now at bedtime, I pause and he fills in the blanks, no matter where I put them. Sneaky boy. Only sharing part of this little world with us. He requested ABC last night and did the same thing. Ask him to do it on command, no. Not going to happen, but in these brief interludes, I see how rich his world is, how much he truly does understand, how hungry he is to learn.

Our baby is not a baby anymore. He is bright and charming, a light in all our lives. He is so loved, by so many. Happy Second Birthday to our son, the one and only Con Con the Bon Bon, who calls himself "Connie."

our internal birthday battle

2012-01-17T16:40:00.001-05:00

Once Halloween hits, BANG, it's a race to the New Year. I'm sure all families feel this way to some extent. Shorter days, cooler weather, the unbelievable whirl and whoosh of seasonal magic stirred with parties, family, food and festivities. It's fun and it's special and it is EXHAUSTING. The post holiday blues aren't exactly a reality here at McCasa. With two winter birthdays three weeks apart, I can hardly gasp for air between ordering Chinese food on New Year's Eve and placing candles on the kids' cakes.

We've been on the birthday party circuit for Caroline for well over a year now. We held off on a school friend birthday party last year because it still felt like we were getting our feet wet at her school. \I am ready to dive in this year to celebrate my baby girl's FIFTH birthday. Connor turns two this week and while we want to celebrate this milestone, we're more comfortable with a low key family celebration. This is where I struggle to make it special for each of them in an age appropriate way. I want to plan special things for each independent of one another, but with the events practically on top of one another, it's a challenge. I foresee this being even more challenging as time goes on, especially when it comes to budgeting for Christmas and birthdays at the same time.

This is how I came to find myself in Target about a week ago buying 30 popcorn boxes AND sports themed paper products. Last week I struggled to carry multiple sports balls cutouts AND an armload of red and white garlands. My brain in split - low key sports maniac birthday - big top benefit with amazing entertainment. Then I glance ahead and see snow forecasted for Saturday when we will celebrate Connor's birthday. Oh the joys of a winter birth.

I'll tell you what else, this isn't exacly helping us cope with Caroline's increasing birthday jealousy. This morning she announced in the car that she wasn't sure she would be attending Connor's birthday party. Really, where else do you think you would be exactly? I tried to have a discussion about it, to talk about how a birthday party is a family's way of celebrating that the birthday boy or girl is a part of our life. It's the whole family's day. "You love having Connor in your family, don't you?" I could see her in the rear view, needing more convincing and sporting a pout. In some ways the close proximity of their special days is a blessing. "Yours is just around the corner." It might help.

Someday we will throw them an amazing surprise 1/2 birthday in July, with a bounce house and water fun and OUTSIDE and NOT SNOW and it will be amazing and I will stick my tongue out at the universe and climate change. Someday!

Until then, I'll be on Pinterest pinning circus themed items, ordering Blue Ribbon BBQ for the boy, adding an alert to my iPhone to pick up his cake on Friday, confirming a juggler who is follow up deficient, and searching for a popcorn machine rental.

as we approach five, a big milestone

2012-01-12T20:46:00.000-05:00

I was an early reader. I remember reading Dick and Jane aloud to my mother in her bedroom. I recall that she sometimes fell asleep as I droned on, "See Dick. See Dick Run." I was a voracious reader. In second grade when they broke us into "reading groups" and gave us names like "Otters" or "Caterpillars," they weren't fooling anyone. We knew even at seven years old that we were in the accelerated group. We used to read around in a circle aloud during Reading Time. There is a specific incident I recall where we were reading a story about an ice skater, Tai Babilonia, and I lost my place because I was reading ahead. When it was my turn, I had no idea where the previous reader had left off because I wanted to know so badly the outcome of all of the skater's training. I got in very big trouble. Point of all this, I loved to read. It's a pity I cannot seem to find time for it now. When I do it seems to be limited to "Scream Free Parenting."

Caroline was completely uninterested in letters last spring. It was an area we and her school continually reinforced and worked on with her. If you pointed to a letter and asked her to name it, she wouldn't even acknowledge the letter in question, but simply shout out a letter name she knew. It was frustrating, but we wanted to support her and not push it too much. She was after all only four, even if most other four year olds knew all their letter and numbers, she would get there.

This fall her interest in letters blossomed and she began to recognize "sight words" including the names of all her classmates. She has since learned to write nearly every letter of the alphabet, can write words and even sentences if you assist with some dictation. That's how she wrote her sweet First Letter to Santa this year. She fills pages with letters, sometimes words, and she is often seen copying the letters from her environment onto a piece of paper. (all with her legs crossed ladylife in front of her, which is a completely different post, but incredibly amusing to watch)

I purchased the first set of Bob Books for her back when Borders was closing. We opened them and we tried the first one and she was so frustrated that I knew it was too early. You see, Caroline is the girl who likes to use her imagination with reading. She likes you to read it to her so she knows the story and then she likes to "read" it again by herself, using the pictures to guide her. Over the summer I wondered if she realized there was a story there to read at all, but we paused on pushing too hard with the reading. She would get there. In time.

and get there she did.

Her interest has grown to new exciting levels and I cautiously reintroduced her to the Bob Books last night; Book One, "Mat."

She's on the verge, I just hope we have enough books for her appetite.

hustle puff

2012-01-04T21:08:00.001-05:00

Today, I earned respect for my younger self. I got a request to do a hospice informational at Brigham and Women's in Longwood. I hesitated and sighed in my head because, really, DOWNTOWN? and then I smiled and asked for the details because I am in the middle of a transition at work that will end my rides through the airport tunnel. This would be a workplace miracle. I hustled my butt to 93 North and headed onto Melnea Cass. I panicked thinking about parking, but luckily this was my old 'hood and I knew a secret place to find a meter spot. A meter spot with 2 hours and 30 minutes ticking away, green sticker and all. I added a quarter just to make that time officially mine, stuffed my hands into my gloves, and smiled as I headed toward the hospital. I laughed out loud when I saw the garage across from the entrance was 7 dollars for the first hour. It was only a few block walk, easy. Except, it wasn't. By the time I hit the spinning hospital entrance I was huffing from my speedwalking.

In 2004, we lived in Natick and I took the train to and from Boston each day by way of the Longwood stop. In the mornings I caught the shuttle to the office most mornings because there was usually one waiting. I caught a shuttle if I could in the afternoon, but this was a rarity because I am historically tardy, beyond tardy, and leaving on time for a train was a near impossibility. The traffic at quarter to five was so terrible in Longwood that it was faster for me to walk/run to the stop. So I did. Racing all the way from Dana-Farber or Children's all the way to the Longwood Stop across the street from Fenway. Some days I speed walked, some days I ran, and most days I caught the train. Sure I was a bit out of breath when I launched myself up the steps, but I had made it.

It felt odd to back there. I waited for no less than five elevators to get one that was not absolutely packed headed up to the towers. FIVE. I watched people parade on ahead of a woman in a wheelchair, dressed in a johnny, with an IV bag hanging. I was disgusted.

When I left the hospital to make the trek back to my STUPID parking spot that seriously could not have been further away from the hospital, I recalled that I had lived "just around the corner" and had WALKED everyday in 2001. How did I do this? Everyday?

I went along this memory lane of sorts and started to recall the walk to the other Green Line stop I did when we lived in Cleveland Circle in 2003. Ten minutes at least at a brisk walk, ten minutes more UPHILL walk on the way home after watching no less than three PACKED trains breeze right by me on their way outbound. How?

I realized I had been right here, my whole life in Boston. I had been up the road at Northeastern, down the road in JP, way further down the road in Cleveland Circle. I had been RIGHT THERE and right there was a really annoying place to get to from just about ANYWHERE. My poor parents who drove in to visit had to not just drive to Boston, but annoyingly through it just to get me. Steve had to brave Melnea Cass or Columbus. I didn't realize how annoying this was until I was in my car fighting to get out of that place to my next appointment in Brockton. I didn't realize this because I didn't have a car when I was a Boston girl. I didn't worry about parking, traffic, meters, trolleys on Huntington. I didn't have to. I caught a train, a shuttle, or used my feet. It is no wonder I was in the most amazing shape of my life and I didn't need a gym to look like that. It was built into my everyday and yes, I still resented it the way I resent a workout now, but at least at the end of it, I actually got somewhere. I wasn't just standing still in space, moving my legs on a trail to nowhere.

I was a bit nostalgic for the hustle and bustle of it all, but I was happy to drive away and leave it behind me. That ship has sailed, I just need to find a daily work out like that again.

New years at the children's museum

2011-12-31T12:02:00.000-05:00

holiday magic

2011-12-29T15:51:00.001-05:00

You would think that with some vacation days under my belt I would have posted photos, updated, written something, anything. There was a pesky little thing called Tuesday that interfered a bit in that. It's hard to get into that zen vacation, "I've got nothing but time" place when you have to work the day after the official observance of the holiday. It's whiney and annoying I know, but wah. I felt like I didn't actually recover from all the magic until I woke up to race to work Tuesday morning, leaving my entire family still sleeping snug in their beds. So, I've really only been on "vacation" since yesterday morning and I've already responded to one voicemail and four emails. Today is Thursday. Where exactly did my long looked forward to "vacation" go? I spent the better part of yesterday devoted to those gooey and sinful cinnamon rolls. Connor and I left to our own devices went and bought "gredient" and whipped through the first few steps. When the roll oozed butter, sugar, cinnamon all over the kitchen table, I excused the rest of the family to finish the job on my own. If this is the only thing I accomplish beyond spending great quality time with my amazing litte family, I think this "vacation" will have been a success.

Isn't it always the way? Weeks spent shopping, searching for free shipping coupons, writing lists, updating ridiculous holiday spreadsheets, planning perfect dinners, wrapping packages, moving an elf at 5:30 in the morning. Poof. Gone. Peter our Elf back to the North Pole with the big guy to rest up for the year. Paper ripped open. Exclamations of gratitude complete.

2011 was the year of McCashew Magic. Connor magically SLEPT. (Can I get an Amen on that one?) Caroline magically learned to skate and decided she is up for session II of Learn to Hockey in January! Steve magically disappeared before our very eyes. (Edited to read that Steve magically disappeared before our eyes with his magical weight loss. His interpretation was that it read as if he had walked away from us and well, he may be right. So three cheers for his hard work and ongoing efforts as there really isn't a magical way to lose weight!) We went to the most magical place on Earth and lived to tell the tale. (in truth, I cannot wait to go back) & this season, this magical mysterious joyful holiday season, was perhaps the very best one we will have. It will be hard to top. I mean, the kids even got their annual Christmas colds a full week early, paving the way for a fever-free Christmas. What better more magical gift could there be?

Caroline fully comprehended Santa and Baby Jesus and was just so stinking excited that I just about popped a blood vessel thinking of Christmas morning. On the Eve of the holday, we read traditional holiday stories, devoured an amazing gingerbread house together, and sat by a fire while we tracked Santa on NORAD's iPhone app. (Can you imagine the stories these kids will tell their own children one day? We all gathered round the family iPad to track santa's ride. really?) A sad, tearful girl who did not understand time zones absolutely lost it Christmas Eve morning when I announced the big guy was delivering to Australia was racing around the room in near hysterical laughter when I showed her he was in the UK; the only thing between her and Santa was the great big Atlantic Ocean. We elfed the house, Steve voiced uneasiness that there were not a lot of things to open. We have gotten burned in the past, so many little things to open that the kids distracted by new shiny things they cannot move onto anything else. I knew we would be fine with fewer things to actually open, especially when the big things were so perfectly wonderful. Balls for the king of sports. A dollhouse for the girl who loves to organize. We haven't actually seen her "play" with the house yet, she is enjoying rearranging the rooms in an endless cycle. Our kids are incredibly lucky, but we are the lucky ones, watching them grown up, watching the magic.

Here is our magical Christmas morning 2011. The real magic may be that she did not lose it when she did not immediately see the dollhouse.

Nutcracker Sweet

2011-12-13T10:07:00.000-05:00

Is it me or are the holidays really flying up on us? The house is decorated, the tree is lit, the advent calendar chocolates are being consumed, Peter Chippey the Elf is currently sitting in the front window, and I am plotting out our attack plan for my family's Christmas Dinner this Saturday. The kids both know that the Hershey Kiss bell commercial is my all time favorite and we spend 30 minutes each evening watching Prep and Landing and/or Chippey/The Elf on The Shelf movie. Last night the kids sat side by side on the couch, arms behind one another, rubbing each other's backs. For the entire show. It was so cute it almost made me cry, to see my kids love each other so much. (We will just pretend that the fight over the Melissa and Doug cutting veggies that happened later didn't happen, k?) Boston Ballet's commercials get screams of excitement from Caroline, rivaled only by Connor's "BUUINS!" It wouldn't be the Christmas season with the Nutcracker would it?

I wanted to take her. I dragged my feet getting tickets because I knew my mother really wanted to accompany her and that it probably wasn't going to be possible this year because of extenuating circumstances. I knew this would make all of us sad. My mother spent most of her fall/winter Saturdays driving me to rehearsals, watching rehearsals, driving me back from rehearsals, setting my hair into Victorian style curls. I lived and breathed Nutcracker, even doing two seperate productions in one season. My daughter does not yet "get" that Clara is not a real person, that a performer is the Sugar Plum Fairy. She doesn't "get" yet that I did that, that I wore those costumes, did those dances. She will someday and I wanted to take her.

We invited my cousin Kristen to come along and I got a sweet deal in my inbox offering could not pass up tickets for Sunday night's show, third row stage right of the dress circle. All prettied up, curls in place, headband on, tights and adorable flats, we traveled into the city together. She was a perfectly behaved princess at our early dinner, eating nearly every piece of buttered pasta on her plate. She could not WAIT to get to her seat and pouted that she had to wait for the curtain. Kristen and I did our best to get her to "read" the program, sit nicely on her cinema seat. We could not pass up tiaras in the lobby on our way in and all three of us were "princesses" for the entire show, after battling the packaging, dear lord the plastic! It's now a "tiara tradition." Don't lose your crown Kris!

"Where is Clara!?" "Why did the mice go away?" "Is she a princess now?" "I really like that Drosselmeyer." I was prepared for her to lose interest towards the end and those cheddar bunnies I packed saved the day. She cried when we left, make a total SCENE tears, "I don't want to leave!" She spent intermission spinning and arabesque-ing and people asked me if she took lessons somewhere. "She doesn't, but I guess she should." Was The Nutcracker a success? YES!

We dropped Kristen off at her apartment, "I don't want her to leave!" "I miss Kristen." "Does she have TV in her apartment?" We talked about her favorite part, "Clara." Her least favorite part, "The King Mouse." She bubbled over with excitement and energy all the way home, ohhing and ahhing at lights, jabbering on and on about the show and "Can we go again!?"

I tucked her into bed and thanked her for such a wonderful day. "Mommy, you make me so happy." No, YOU make me so happy baby girl. I will hold the memories of our Sunday night show from Linner to bedtime, and every detail between for the rest of my days.

I can't wait to watch the DVD copy of the show that will be hidden in her stocking with her.

Winter Wonderland

2011-12-10T20:57:00.000-05:00

Why have we not been to this event at BC before?!? Santa, balloons, gingerbread houses, santa hats, a touch a truck. We had a blast and I cannot tell you how amazing it was to watch our previously Santa leary Caroline practically leap onto his lap. Of course, this followed a pee pee dance in the line that made me wonder for real if we would be THAT family whose kid peed on Santa. She was too excited to leave the line, "no Mommy, I just like doing this (pee pee dance)."

I highly suggest you BC Alumni go next year!

and then he showed me the picture of him and Jack Parker

2011-12-02T10:28:00.000-05:00

Work is blowing up in my face. Again. Yesterday I was so worked up that I sent Steve a text, "I really need to talk to you." I knew he had a meeting at 10:00, but didn't expect it to still be going on at 1:30. He had to excuse himself, "my wife isn't very needy, so this must be important." I'm being TOLD, not asked, to make yet another concession, to stretch myself even more, and I am putting my foot down. The line in the sand is drawn and I'm calmer about it today, but still seething away below the surface. My attitude about my work was piss poor yesterday and that makes me sad because I care about my patients and their families and they deserve my best. They don't deserve a bitter, pissed off grump.

I visited a family in Brighton who I've only just met. It's another family who has connections to Steve's grandfather. One of my patient's son took some trips about 20 years ago with Dr. Grand McCashew and it was fun to establish a connection between them, sending word through Papa and getting word back. The patient had taken a turn, had taken to bed, the Nurse was questioning if she was transitioning, and she had not been comfortable having a conversation with the sons that this might actually be transition. I talked in hypotheticals, what ifs, reinforcing taking it day by day, reminding them that if their goal was to keep her home we would do all we can to make that happen, encouraging them to keep an open dialogue with us. We were in the dining room amid walls of photos from decades gone by - she is 104 after all, born in 1907, a century before my daughter. A century.

Photos faded from time and touch, and then the OTHER son showed me the picture of him and Jack Parker playing High School hockey together. "Great guy." I snorted. I couldn't help it. I reminded him, I was a McCashew, by marriage a Jerry York fan, by college education a Husky, and not exactly Parker's biggest fan. He pulled out his ticket to the BC/BU Hockey game tonight and said, "Did the Huskies or Jerry York send you a ticket, cause Jack sent me one." Well played. well played indeed.

There is no crying in hockey

2011-11-30T09:34:00.000-05:00

We hit a crossroads two weeks ago at hockey. It was painful and dramatic and slightly embarassing for Steve. As is typical of most working parents with young children, our Saturday mornings are no longer lazy and pajama filled. We get more done by noon than most people and then we flop in sort of a stunned overwhelmed heap by 2pm. I had Connor at soccer (9:30), so Steve had Caroline at hockey (10:00). As I raced out of the building to head to hockey to see that last few moments of ice time, I got a frantic call from Steve and a tearful hockey player was whining in the background. It was only 10:35 and she was crying to get off the ice.

The dilemma.

All week long a little girl with curls tells us that Connor might like taking shots on his goal in the playroom, but SHE is a real hockey player. She practices her "hockey face" and tells us she is excited about playing and how many days until she gets to go again??? Saturday rolls in and that excitement turns into anxiety and even as I am racing to soccer with Connor, I can see that Steve has his work ahead of him to get her revved up, confident and dressed in $150 worth of equipment. He reports that she is excited until the very last moment when she is about to step on the ice, but she does great once she is out there. She skates well for a beginner, back and forth, shuffle gliding with her arms to the side. 10:35, WHAM! Complete and total breakdown, tears, begging to get off the ice. So what is a parent to do?

After this particular breakdown, which resulted in an early departure and a forgotten pink stick, we weren't sure what to do next? It's a fine line between forcing and encouraging at this age.

I talked with her about it later and the comment that stuck with me was "I just don't know what else to do." This I could work with. she was bored. A girl can only skate back and forth for so long before she is done and a four year old girl can only do it for about 30 minutes apparently before her dam of tolerance breaks and a flood of tears follows. We talked about it, that if she wanted to play we want to support her, but if it isn't fun, she should tell us. We reinforced this was her decision and no one would be mad if she changed her mind. We let her know that the expectation is for her to skate as long as she can each week and that if there were any future explosive cry fests she would be done for good. Tell us you want to come off, talk to us, basically we don't want anymore scenes that makes us and every other parent there uncomfortable. We considered talking to the organizer about moving her up a level, but Steve was hesitant about being "that Dad." We decided to watch the older group this past Saturday and see if she could handle it (we are not sure she is ready, but maybe if she chooses to do the next session she could start there?)

Last week there was no soccer so Connor and I were able to go watch and cheerlead. She got right out there, she skated great, she came over to bang on the glass and say hi to Connor. I watched her fall intentionally in front of instructors for attention, and get up and skate away as soon as she got their eye (smartie). She passed the 35 minute mark, 40 minutes, and at 45 she came off. The only tears were because she had lost sight of Steve in the crowd. This was a major win. We noticed other parents having the same discussion with their kids, even the amazing 3 year-old phenom nicknamed "hot dog" who could skate circles around the 6 year-olds. This week she and another girl got their sticks for the first time and she had a chance to play with a puck, but she chose not to.

I'm still not sure she is ready to sign on for session 2 in January, but we are incredibly proud of her for sticking with it, trying her best, and not losing her mind at minute 35. I think we weathered this ok. I never imagined things could be harder than trying to get Conner to Sleep for the love of god, but this is way harder. Steve and I had that awful discussion about how we can totally mess this up. You cannot help but think about the consequences of the way you handle things like this, the lessons it teaches, the not so nice message it might send. I'm proud of us for talking it through with her, reinforcing her power to make a decision and our support no matter which route she goes. Special kudos to Steve for not mentioning the hefty investment in equipment. I think he is counting on Connor to use it too. Our message was positive and supportive, with a dash of "you need to handle this like a big girl" thrown in for good measure. We may not have a hockey player on our hands, but this is teaching her important life skills we couldn't possibly teach her at home. So Caroline, when you read this in 10 or 20 years, I love you no matter what you do, how good you are at it, so long as yand try your best and are having fun, I will always be your biggest fan.

on being thankful

2011-11-22T22:07:00.000-05:00

It's been a busy week; lots of running around, last minute holiday errands, a feverish pressure to get things done in my professional life before the holiday. I know I'm not alone in my pre-holiday fervor. The rest of the world is right there with me. They are packing shopping carts full of the makings of holiday meals, snatching up holiday decor (ALREADY?!!), searching the aisles of the liquor store for a lovely wine to accompany a turkey feast, buttoning up hard you wish you never met this woman cases! It's hard to keep our minds and hearts on the important part of this week; the being thankful part. If nothing else, my professional life reminds me daily that the most important things are family and health. If I have my family and we all have our health, the rest of it is gravy (har!).

Sadly, not all families are as fortunate. Some are coping with an incomprehensible illness I have trouble even imagining. I can't think of many things more devastating than a sick child, except not being able to afford the care your child needs. I see those the ads for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital ® , they make me tear up, and though I haven't needed them myself, I'm grateful they are there. I'm supporting St. Jude Thanks and Giving® Campaign this holiday season. The amazing Ruckus Media Group has partnered to support this campaign and you can make a difference for families coping with immeasurable challenges this holiday season.

If your kids are like my kids, they are already big Ruckus Media Group fans. Spot the Dot, huge hit in the McCashew household. The Velveteen Rabbit, beloved by all. I could listen to Meryl Streep read that book all day. I might like it even more than Caroline.

During the St. Jude Thanks and Giving® Campaign, all Ruckus Media Group apps are being offered at the incredible sale price of just 1.99. All proceeds from the sales of any Rabbit Ears classic interactive storybook app will be donated to the St. Jude Thanks and Giving campaign from now until December 31st. There are some great titles, all read by names you know. Caroline is into memorizing the plots of books and "reading" the books herself. This format is perfect for that and she enjoys the stunning illustrations. Here's some Black Friday shopping I can get behind. It's a deal and it makes a difference.

I'm downloading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. It's a perfect holiday addition to our iPad and destined to be a favorite all year round. I can't wait to record myself reading it aloud for the kids and maybe later this season a certain pre-reader will record a bit herself! I'll be donating the difference in the sale price to St. Jude's and then some. If you want to do the same, you can make a donation directly to the St. Jude Thanks and Giving® campaign or by calling 1-800-4STJUDE.

I don't do sponsored posts. I was not given any compensation, nor anything free for this message. It is simply the right thing to do. Buy an app for the kids in your life. Comment below and let me know which app you downloaded and I will match your donation to St. Jude Thanks and Giving® Campaign. (Steve's blood pressure just skyrocketed reading that.) It's a season of hustle and bustle and overwhleming stress at times. It's a season to be thankful for the important things and to make a difference however we can.

justification

2011-11-19T16:57:00.000-05:00

It's no secret that I work full-time. With that comes a mortgage size child care payment each month. With two kids in day care/preschool, I was more concerned with making more than the cost of school than what my take home pay would be. I simply refuse to work to have the kids in school. If I am going to do this, there better be some fun involved. I shouldn't think twice about buying a sweater, picking up a new supply of tinted moisurizer, buying stamps. We should plan amazing trips to Disney World and summers on the Vineyard.

It wasn't long ago that I panicked over every penny. I worked a very flexible job three days a week and made enough to cover child care, enough to help out, but not enough to live panic-free. We were fine. We were always fine, I mean my lord, we got hosed on our house and we were still fine. We were fine because my penny pincher spouse had rubbed off on me. When we needed that safety net we had carefully saved, it was there, and that was all Steve. It was a big challenge for our family, but a storm we weathered with a relatively small amount of lost sleep. He was onto something.

My thoughts on finances have evolved, but I still hate denying myself. I struggle with it more now than ever because I justify. "If I can't really consider buying this sweater, why do I work?!" "If I can't treat myself to a pumpkin muffie in the morning, what is the point, really?" Part of that is selfish, and part of it is true. I'm not just talking about things for me. That justification extends to groceries, housewares, things the kids need, and on and on. I still love a good deal, don't get me wrong. The highlight of my grocery shopping this week was a 75 cent coupon on Fruitables juice right there in the aisle next to the juice, no forward thinking, no planning necessary. My kind of coupon. Pre-full-time job, I would have bought one. I bought two. Justification. When I went to BJs this week for our monthly snack replenishment. Marc is onto something, I only buy Nutri Grains, Granola bars, pb crackers etc once a month. This has vastly improved my overall quality of living, it has saved us money too, but the initial investment is more and sometimes a bit overwhelming, especially if it includes diapers. Justification.

No one in our house puts everyone else's needs ahead of their own more than Steve. That throne is his alone to sit in. I tend to put the kids before myself, but I try to balance it with little perks for myself now and again and I don't think there is anything wrong with that, but I struggle with it. My heat resistant spoonula somehow got a piece broken off, bingo, flashy new purple one. I justify this because I use that heat resistant spoonula more than any other item in my kitchen. Justification. Steve would never do that. He would keep using the broken spoonula. It wouldn't bother him. He has two pairs of jeans that he likes, I suggest he get a new pair, "I have two pairs, I don't need a new pair of jeans!" complete with arm motions and emotion in voice. Thing is, he has gotten a lot better about coping with my unbridled justification lately, he just doesn't extend it to himself. I'm still calling it a win. I doubt his views on justification will ever change, it keeps life interesting, it keeps me honest. It keeps me realistic.

We recently completed the final steps to getting our Mass Saves Heat Loan and are now the happy and comfortably toasty owners of a Lockinvar system with tankless water heater. We have been ticking off items for our house improvement google doc at the fastest speed we have ever tackled a google doc spreadsheet. Overgrown bushes in the front of the house, GONE. New Heater, INSTALLED. Firewood, ARRIVED. Powerwash the house, UNMILDEWED. (It looks amazing! I think it is actually a different COLOR) Interior panting estimate to rid the house of her PINK walls, completed, awaiting discussion on coughing up the money to neutralize the crap out of the upstairs; ie awaiting justification. I'm happy ticking things off, justification never felt so good. Steve wrings his hands wondering if we have done too much at once. I've learned a thing or two in ten years, including inviting the powerwash/painter in to give an estimate on some challenging walls in the interior and "hey, could you just do an estimate for the whole upstairs so we can see how much it would be?"

Enter holidays. I am trying to improve in this area. I am an over zealous organizing fiend, complete with you guessed it, a google doc spreadsheet. I tackle each person, tracking ideas, costs, shipment details. This isn't where I try to improve, I'm all over the organization piece. It's the justifying. It's the inner battle of a sensible holiday vs. a smidge of over the top magic. Christmas morning is going to be pretty amazing this year. Dollhouse, some felt food for the kitchen, Basket full of BALLS. It's not about quantity or cost, it's that our kids acutally have likes and dislikes, things they are into, and we have an attack plan. A sensible attack plan. We're planning on mostly shared items (less fighting), a few things of their own to open, and stockings. I stood in Toys R Us this week, another perk of my job, the ability to snag some time at Toys R Us to debate the differences between dollhouses. I splurged on the snazzier dollhouse. I justified, the same way I do for those occasional treats to myself.

More than improvements to the house, I'm working on improvements to myself, laying off the justification a bit. That being said, I pretty much love this little $30 justified splurge.

Improvements, mostly small, but exponetially improving quality of life. Justification can sometimes make it warmer, more of a home, a place where roots are tended with care and life's moments of perfect simple daily love are showcased. They are reminders that justification cannot recreate any one of these moments. The only thing I will continue to fiecely defend and justify is the temperature on the thermostat. I'm not willing to budge on this one.

what it is about

2011-11-16T20:40:00.002-05:00

We recently caught some moments with a pile of leaves. It may have been the first time Caroline took a running start at the leaf pile. Connor dipped a toe in, but refused to jump. He did not take too kindly to getting tossed in, though he was quite partial to the kid sized rakes I picked up earlier this season. I'm on the hunt for the kid sized shovel. I also wish these had been taken post amazing "Operation Power Wash."

Caroline took this one of connor.

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2011-11-09T17:05:00.000-05:00

I played with the Disney videos some more, mostly because I had never edited any video prior to this. There are still two highlight reels (if you will), but they more accurately depict our trip than the chronological strung together first attempts. Highlights I alone could be the only video of what we DID, Highlihts II is more of the characters and the details.

I'm posting here as more of a placeholder to myself, a public place other than you tube to post them. I'm also probably posting them today because I had a dream last night we were taking the kids for a getaway weekend... to Disney World. Everyone's response, "already?!?!"

challenging

2011-11-09T10:12:00.000-05:00

We are mid week of week 2 in the 30 Day Vegan Challenge, almost halfway through. I have to say, I don't really miss the meat portion of this challenge all that much. My appetite has been more than met. I am far from starving, but I miss cheese. A lot.

I forgot how much I liked smoothies. Connor has been particularly helpful is blending up frozen fruit, soy milk, orange juice and peanut butter. We made one for Steve at the end of last week and he liked it so much he didn't need the "to go cup" we had prepared it in for him. Connor is good for a small cup himself, which is far better than the breakfast he typically has. Caroline has not fully accepted this new breakfast idea. With a smoothie under my belt, I am good until lunch and they are so yummy. I made a cup of coffee last week with soy milk and it was only ehhh, but I think I could learn to drink my coffee a bit darker, or skip it all together.

I'm struggling a bit sometimes with lunch. Hummus wraps with fresh veggies during the week, some fruit, maybe some nuts. I'm on the go in the car and I loathe spending money on lunch, so this has been a bit of a challenge. Fluffernutters have been a welcome treat. I'm planning to use the handy chart the author provides for making a grain salad to bring next week a few days. Weekends have been easier because I can make a bigger, more exciting sandwich and I have just been to the grocery store, so the ingredients are fresher and fancier. You would have thought I was eating gold on Saturday with my hummus, sprout, cucumber, tomato and avocado flat bread.

Dinners have been amazing! I've been skeptical every single night. I brace myself for Steve's scoff or starving eyes. I chop and stir and hold my breath and every single night he has been not only a willing participant, but he tells me how good it is. Even if he doesn't always mean it, it helps to hear. I made a bean chili last night with peppers and onions and corn, for the boy who asks me if I can find a good recipe for a meat loves chili, sans beans. I planned to get two meals from it, but we enjoyed it so much that I think we will need to eat it over baked potatoes to get another dinner from it.

The kids have totally embraced dinner, though Connor's diapers say we need to start rationing his bean intake. Kid loves beans! We put together some amazing black bean burritos this week. I tweeted that they enjoyed them so much I was awestruck. We have a taco night occasionally and the kids usually get on board with making tacos with the various ingredients, but this was different. I lined up bowls of fresh toppings on the table; shredded Boston lettuce, fresh salsa, cheese for the kids and Steve, and fresh made guacamole. Caroline scrunched her nose up at the green spread, but asked for seconds and thirds. GUACAMOLE?? I had to practically fight her off to get the last spoonful. Last night while she ate some chicken and tots with corn she asked me if we can have "that dinner we had before" again. I saved the extra beans (seasoned with cumin, s/p, and chili powder) and I am going to whip up another batch of guacamole because are you kidding me, bean burritos Caroline?!?

So thoughts - this challenge is HARD yo. I miss cheese. I haven't been 100% faithful to the no dairy component of my challenge, especially with the Halloween candy. I'm trying not to deny myself something I really want because I don't want to become discouraged or resent that I am doing this. Good choices when possible. Steve has really surprised me with his enthusiasm and support, except for last Thursday when he brought home an entire 3 foot long Italian sub from the FSU/BC tailgate and asked me if I wanted a slice. I did. and it was amazing. The kids have been much more open to trying new things. Connor loves plain ol' seasoned beans so much. Caroline asking for a second round of bean burritos. Are these my kids? my picky Caroline and my meat lover Connor?

We're saving money too. Sure, I'm making a trip to Trader Joe's each week for some more wallet friendly vegan options (their frozen brown and jasmine rice, bean dip, multigrain tortillas, soy milk, spiced pecans, organge flavored cranberries). Even with that extra trip we are still spending about 30 dollars less each week.

Do I think it will stick? Honestly, no. I didn't expect it to, but I think I have my family's blessing to incorporate these new meals and options into our everyday. That's a win in my book.