For example: You don’t want your kid to eat a bunch of junk food. That’s being a good parent by sticking to that goal as much as possible, right? What doesn’t help:

1. Grandparents, aka my mother, “Oh, she can have a little candy before dinner.” WTH! When I was kid, a candy bar was maybe a four-time-a-year thing. Christmas. Valentine’s Day. Easter. Halloween. Yep, that’s about it. And you got cake and ice cream for your birthday. The kid is looking at her like she’s amazing. Thanks a lot, MOTHER!

2. Grocery stores. You’re trying to get the cart that’s already full of kids filled with whatever you need and to get out of that store as quickly as possible. You never know when you’ll hear “bathroom” – of course they already went at home, but they somehow manage to need to pee right after you loaded the cart with your cold items. Plus, it’s bad enough to try to keep the dang squirmers in the cart or near the cart without having to give the evil look. You finally make it to the checkout, the final and most annoying hurdle because that’s where the candy is. Not just a few, it’s the whole freakin’ Wonka factory on each stand. Candy that glows, candies in the shape of popular characters, gum, ring-shaped ones, and some even have cookies, chips and soda.

3. AND, this one is the lowest of the low to me right now: The ice cream man – or one in particular. My daughter and I had already had a couple of treats during the day and it was near dinner time when we went out to the front yard to feed our cats. There he was slowly moving toward our home.

It was too late to pull her back into the house. The jingle had already wormed its way into her mind and cracked out her eyes. “Ice cream!” She pointed and shouted. Then started to run toward the sidewalk to greet the large blue truck.

“We had a treat already today, honey. We can get an ice cream tomorrow.”

The driver of the truck saw me. Our eyes met. I gave him a head shake and put up my hand to politely let him know we were not interested in his evil, sugary wares. That was that. Or so I thought.

My daughter was about to come into the house until she noticed he was still there and then, he began waving at her.

“Mommy, ice cream,” she squealed and giggled, getting pumped up even more than before.

I couldn’t believe it. The guy was just sitting there. In front of my house! I thought, “OK, maybe he mistakenly thought I wanted to make a purchase.”

I shooed at him.

He didn’t move and the jingling music seemed as loud as ever. That’s when Mommyzilla came out.

“Get out of here!” I yelled angrily, at least twice, and shooed at him more vigorously, my eyebrows furrowed ferociously. He got the point, because homeboy took off after that.

Yeah, that’s right, buddy.

She’s chosen some really thoughtful names for her children, or so I thought. She and her hubs seemed so relaxed about it that you’d think they just threw darts and went with whatever. One of her blog entries details the going about in naming her girls. Cute story. It was interesting to me because of how natural the process seemed for the both of us.

Some people spend months pouring over names and playing with words to find the perfect moniker for their spawn, and some use a family name or carry on a traditional.

My husband is the third, and knowing we were having a son, we did consider naming him the fourth. It wasn’t important to the hubs, even though he is the only direct living male on that side of his bloodline. I am sure this might have disappointed some family.

In choosing a name, we went for something that would go with our ridiculously hard to say last name, which is pronounced Tell-desk-key.

We like strong, classic names. Obviously something trendy or hipster would not work. I can’t imagine an Atticus Teldeschi. Although, the hubs did toy with the idea of naming our son after his great grandfather Amadeo. Too bad it is ruined by bringing to mind the 1980s tune “Rock Me Amadeus.” Hilarious.

I was certain for a long time that I would name my son Gabriel. I felt a connection with the name – strong, yet poetic. I envisioned the name of my kids would be a part of their personality. I also liked that it wasn’t that popular.

In the end, we didn’t go with Gabriel. Another strong name kept coming to me during my pregnancy, and the hubs loved it.

The middle name, however, was the stickler. Maybe we use Amadeo as middle? No. Gabriel? No, it didn’t flow. Nothing seemed right. Then, it hit us: Isaiah. It was a good flow. How to spell it was a dilemma.

Hubs liked the spelling Isiah, as in Isiah Thomas, the retired pro basketball player. (There is an Isaiah Thomas who plays professional basketball.) I couldn’t “misspell” the name on the birth certificate. So, I didn’t, and I confessed to the hubs later. He was cool with it — he couldn’t remember the spelling anyway. Who knows, maybe our son and daughter will grow up hating their name and will change it. For now, they’ve got what we gave them.

Anyway, that’s a story behind our new kid’s name. I am certain we’ll have more children (don’t read into that). We may have a Gabriel yet, or maybe not …

Her first birthday was spent at our house. It wasn’t flashy, but a lot of people came – about 50, no exaggeration. For her second birthday, we had a picnic, opened gifts, and then a few of us went to Micke Grove Zoo. We had just close family and a couple friends come, but still a nice turn out.

This year, we decided to just keep it low-key (She’s old news now anyway. Kidding!) and that sparked an idea for my wonderful, but crazy, mother in law: “I want to take her to Disneyland!”

The hubs and I looked at each other with a silent “Yeah, right.” We didn’t want to seem evil, but we politely declined. Anyway, it’s not like we have that kind of money. An adult ticket to Disneyland is $87; a child’s ticket, $81. Yeah. For real.

“Who says YOU have to go. I want to take HER.”

Them’s fighting words now.

Oh. Hell. No. You are not taking my kid to the “Happiest place on Earth” for the first time without her parents being there to share in that experience.

“I’ll pay for her and you pay for yourselves,” she proposed, raising an eyebrow and flashing a huge smile.

Parental huddle. The hubs and I agree that this is insane. Our daughter won’t remember this; it’s super expensive even just paying for ourselves; our son, who was on the way at the time, would be 3 months oldish and that in itself is a turn off since one of us would have to stay with him while the other rides with the other munchkin.

My cunning mother in law somehow triumphed in reminding us that we would be down that way anyway for a family visit. We could plan the Disneyland stop during that trip, she said, and she would meet us and get herself a hotel room that we could use to make the day easier. She also pointed out at least 20 rides suitable for the tot and couldn’t control her excitement in anticipation of our answer.

We’re suckers. Of course, we caved. She really wanted to do this. The woman is a Disney freak, bless her. The grandmother card was partially responsible. You win this time, MISSY!

To be honest, now that the date is approaching, we’re really excited to go. I’m not sure how much our daughter will remember, if anything, about the trip. I do know how excited she gets when “Peter Pan” comes on TV, or when we read her stories about the princesses, bugs, robots and other Disney crap. She’s a good little girl, and we can make it happen pretty much because of the in-laws. This trip is important memories for them, and us too.

And thank goodness the boy is free, and he just sleeps and lies there all day anyway. He definitely won’t know what’s going on.

And after popping out another kid, I am more sarcastic and crazy as ever.

Eat your heart out, readers.

The deets: On Jan. 29, I popped out a handsome, healthy and hairy boy. He is so wonderful and easy. I got lucky that both kids were/are quiet, calm babies; softly crying only for food, diaper changes and maybe a position change. Don’t hate. I’ll pay for it later! My nearly 3 year old is a firecracker. She’s a sweetheart with a seriously cranky Miss Hyde side.

BTW, big sister is doing great. As soon as she met her little brother, she had a sparkle in her eye and a huge smile. She still has it. Every morning, she asks for candy pancakes and to see her little brother. “Where’s your brother?” she asks. Adorable. At least she isn’t holding a blanket over his head or kicking him. Whew!

Balancing it all has been pretty smooth for the most part. I was worried like a total wuss, but now I realize I was fretting basically for nothing. I started back to work this week and so far so good. It also helps that I have Mary Freakin’ Poppins as my sitter. Bless her.

I had 8 weeks off for healing and bonding, and that time just raced on by. Two kids are definitely better than one and they don’t stay little for long. I’m aiming to make the most of it every day.

My daughter loves the movies “Little Mermaid,” “Princess and the Frog,” “Beauty and the Beast,” “Sleeping Beauty,” and all the others. At first, I thought she was too young (2½) to really get into it, but, boy, was I wrong. She loves them. She loves princess toys, too. So, I thought maybe she’d enjoy a doll. I saw one on sale; jeez – they are expensive – and brought it home to her. Her face lit up with such enjoyment! She looked at the doll so adoringly and played with her straight away.

I’ve not yet read the book “Cinderella Ate My Daughter” by Peggy Orenstein, in which she reveals a sort of dark side to the whole pretty princess and pink culture. I have this book on my list though, because I have never been a “girlie girl.” I played with He-Man action figures, Hot Wheels in the dirt and watched “Transformers.” I also grew up watching Disney princess movies and I played with Barbies. It didn’t create or take away from my feminism in any way. I’ve never looked at my huge ghetto booty and cried because it wasn’t like Barbie’s or Skipper’s. I am a mom now, and I know that I can’t hold my daughter back from being who she wants to be or liking what she likes. I’ve mentioned this before in other posts.

I don’t really have a problem with the movies, dolls and other crap that’s out there. And to be honest, I think the movies are classic and beautiful. Of course, I am not pushing it, just merely accepting her choice of interest. Yes, some of the plots are unrealistic about life, empowerment and relationships, but what TV program, movie, book and other media out there isn’t these days?

One acquaintance posted the comment, “[E]mpowerment” is far less a result of what children watch on TV and more a result of parents, teachers and friends actually engage(ing) with children about what they see, hear or read.” Amen, sista.

It’s our job as parents to guide and nurture our kids into knowing what a healthy relationship is. My husband is the first man in my daughter’s life. She’s watching how he and I treat each other to get a feel for what she wants for herself one day. Real life is going to show my daughter what’s in the world more than any Disney movie could, and it’s not like she isn’t going to be exposed to other things. Being honest and explaining fiction and reality are part of raising a child, too. There are some bad parts of American culture, but we can’t protect our kids from all of that. But we can try to fill our kids’ lives with good examples of living.

I watched “Cinderella” today with my daughter. We cuddled on the couch and snacked on popcorn. Now, we don’t do that all day. Moderation and variety are crucial for growing minds. After, we took a long walk and, later, we colored, blew bubbles in the yard and, at her request, played with her favorite Christmas toy: Her T-ball set.

Balancing time with both kids makes me worry though. I like my time with my daughter: reading, painting nails, cuddling etc. I’ve reassured her that she and mommy will always be close and we’ll always have special time together. I also know to make my daughter feel involved and to allow her to help with her little bro in any way.

But the idea of breastfeeding one and making a sandwich for the other is intimidating this multitasker!

I’m sure you moms and dads with more children are thinking, “Wuss.” I know. I totally am right now.

I am sure I’ll get used to it all and balance it like you pros out there.

Anyway, if you don’t hear from me in a while, I’m recovering and possibly enjoying a well-deserved glass of vino — after I pump of course!

It’s not that simple, but there definitely needs to be some change in the way a lot of families work, even culturally. It’s hard to balance it all, and life’s fast pace makes that challenging.

Crimes don’t always begin with a poor family situation, and “poor” is subjective. A parent can also discipline too much or not enough. A Record editorial recently said that higher education wasn’t a path for all students and that some with other skills and talents grow up to be very successful in other hard-working fields, which is true.

Rich or poor, single parent or two-parent households, fostered families, one car or two-car household; there is no perfect family. That kind of thinking spirals unrealistic views of the world and life as we know it. Sometimes you can have the best parents in the world and some children make choices that are astonishingly bad.

You could also argue that we live in a modern society that doesn’t allow for the same culture of family values of years ago. Parents have two or more jobs, which means less time at home with the kids, and well, less parenting. Laws and job rules have changed so much that the only time a mom or dad can truly be home with their kids is during their short family leave, vacation, if you’re lucky enough to get one, or if they’re on welfare or have a sugar spouse. Some of us push our kids into preschool and daycare because we can’t stay home with them and keep up with a lifestyle that’s in demand. Some parents feel guilty about that lack of time spent with their kids that they don’t want to be hard on them.

I’m not sure there is an easy solution. This conversation is endless. But what works for one family may not work for another. As parents, we have to decide what kind of a life we want and the kind of kids we want to raise and make some sacrifices for the family as a whole. It’s a tough world out there, and it’s unfair to criticize everyone’s style of parenting when you’re not in their shoes.

I learned, though, that I must be careful around other people’s children and that the same goes for other parents. A friend of mine doesn’t tell her kids about Santa. She happily takes all the credit for the goodies her kids receive and makes sure they are grateful. “I work too hard to let some fat b*!#@$^ take credit,” she said. “I want my kids to know that their mom made their Christmas as nice as it is.” Amen, sistah.

Another mom friend tells her 2-year-old that Santa is just pretend and for fun. Yes, the truth. I applaud that idea too.

Now that I have a kid who is old enough to really get into Christmas, and one baking nicely at the moment, I’ve wondered what we would do about Santa, or not. Do we play into the whole Santa game? I say, yes. But don’t overdo it. If your kid asks if Santa is real, maybe then that’s the time you come clean. My husband loves to dress up. He was so excited to buy a Santa suit and likes entertaining the kids. Is it going to shatter their world and make them socially awkward when they find out that the big guy in the red suit isn’t the magical man who brings them whatever they want or deserve for being good all year, and that he’s just plain ’ol dad or some drunk dude who needs a job at the mall? I don’t think so. It’s nice for kids to have imagination, hope and innocent excitement. Is there real harm in Santa? Kids are smarter than some people want to believe, and they do figure it out eventually. I mean, it seems kind of like a “no duh” at some point. And if your kid is 14 and still believes in Santa, maybe he probably also has other delusions of the world and is a bit naive. Just saying.

A girl cries Sunday during a picture with a man disguised as Santa Claus in Mexico City. (AP Photo/Marco Ugarte)

Love to hear your thoughts!