Ridiculous Moments in Parenting: Last Week Edition

September 8, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

Last week, I wasn’t even at home and yet the shenanigans were even more absurd than usual. Because I was at a work conference all week, Chris had to play stay-at-home single parent to a two-year-old, an exceptionally challenging job. Here were just a few of the ridiculous things that happened.

– Sprout declaring that Kraft macaroni and cheese was “delicious,” a complement much higher than that he usually bestows on any food: This is despite the fact that Chris was a professional cook in a very expensive restaurant before leaving to stay home. Now, Sprout eats way more vegetables than the average toddler (hurray!), but the fact that Kraft Mac and Cheese was the height of culinary prowess according to him was rather horrifying and funny. No accounting for taste.

– Doing the Hokey Pokey by myself in a hotel room: Keeping the attention of a toddler over FaceTime is challenging at best. To try to keep Sprout from wandering off, I started listing off songs he might want me to sing. After asking about “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider,” “10 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed,” and “House at Pooh Corner,” I finally scored with the Hokey Pokey. Which led to me sticking my right foot in and right foot out and turning all about by myself next to my hotel bed and holding out an iPhone trying not to trip.

– Spout taking a giant bite out of a hat: Chris is a big Green Bay Packers fan, so one of our baby shower gifts was a kid-sized cheese hat. Chris happened to find it in Sprout’s closet and showed it to him, commenting “This is a cheese hat.” Sprout replied, “Cheese hat?” and then “chomp.” He managed to get a good chunk out of it before Chris could wrest it away from him and explain it was “play cheese!”

– Experiencing our first hysterically funny toddler tantrum: The other day, Sprout was really upset for no apparent reason. The answer to every question we asked was “no.” The epitome was him running in place like he was in the world’s worst gym class, flailing his arms like a rabid chicken. I always thought that parents taking photos of their kids crying was kind of mean, but I finally understood as I tried to contain my laughter.

– Chasing after a toddler mid-puke holding out a Tupperware container: For some reason, Sprout often gets sick when I go out of town. Luckily for Chris, he waited until the day after I got back to do so this time. Fortunately for everyone, the bout only lasted three hours and he was fine by the afternoon.

– Going on a bicycle ride by myself on my own bike: While this used to be an extremely common occurrence, it definitely felt like a personal accomplishment in the same sense that Beth Woolsey of Five Kids is a Lot of Kids describes being able to clip her nails. I ride back and forth to the Metro every day, but that’s on clunky, heavy Capital Bikeshare bikes. When I do have the luxury of using my own well-loved Bianchi hybrid, it’s almost always dragging an extra 50 pounds between the trailer and the growing toddler. Being able to go on a ride and worry about no one else besides myself was truly glorious, especially because I rode through the well-shaded Rock Creek Park.

– Bike grease making its way onto my child’s face and very most likely, inside his mouth: Later the same day, we took a very short ride to our little downtown area. As I was putting my bike away, Sprout started running his fingers over the chain, despite my protests. Then, because he’s teething his molars in and the simple fact that he’s two, he promptly put his hand in his mouth. (At least I’m assuming he did – I didn’t actually see it, but he did have grease on the side of his mouth.) As I know bike grease is definitely not non-toxic, that was a super awesome parenting fail. Hopefully, he won’t be puking again tomorrow.

What were some of the most ridiculous things that happened to you this week?

Ocean City, MD: Fun and Sun with a Toddler and Grandparents

August 26, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

As a kid, I adored the ticky-tacky tourist trap that was and is Lake George Village. Nestled in the foothills of the Adirondacks, I loved everything from its elaborate mini-golf courses to its flashing arcades. So of course, I love Ocean City, Maryland, which is much like Lake George except bigger and more popular with an actual beach to boot. We had hoped to camp at nearby Assateague National Park, but when realized the entire season was booked up back in May, I joked to my mom about my parents taking us to Ocean City. Much to my pleasant surprise, she took me up on my suggestion, leading us to all head out to Ocean City this past weekend. As this was Sprout’s first time, he had a variety of reactions, some of which were more unpredictable than others.

What Sprout Liked that I Exected Him to Like

Carnival rides: After our experience at the County Fair, I fully expected him to enjoy the even bigger Ferris wheel at the end of the boardwalk. Unfortunately, it turned out that the view wasn’t as good than at the Fair. At night, the dark swallowed the grandeur of the ocean. Nonetheless, both it and the double-decker Merry Go Round were big hits. It’s amazing how Sprout’s reactions to rides have evolved, from the seemingly impassive reception at Disney to the engaged sense of wonder now. While his facial expressions haven’t really changed much, the subtle differences are obvious.

Arcade games: Chris and I introduced Sprout to a fundamental part of our childhoods that had little educational or social benefit – video game arcades! While he liked the percussion adaptation of Dance Dance Revolution, the big hit was skeeball. As Chris and I played in our own lanes, my mom rolled the balls with Sprout hand-over-hand and scored over 100 points! Between the three of us, we had enough tickets to buy a little googly-eyed ring for him, which he clutched the rest of the day. Finding games that he would like brought back some of my childhood joy playing video games, especially since so many of them are just glorified slot machines now.

Ice cream: Okay, this was a gimme.

Spending time with his grandparents: A bit of a gimme too, but I love the relationship they have. My grandparents lived far away from me in a time before FaceTime and we always had to visit them, not the other way around. I really appreciate that my parents want to have a solid bond with him and are willing to put in the time to do so. (This is true of Chris’s parents as well.)

Things I Expected Sprout to Like But He Didn’t

Going in the ocean: Sprout didn’t mind standing on the very edge and allowing the waves to occasionally reach his toes, but he responded “Nope!” every time I asked him if he wanted to go further. He found the feeling of the ground washing away beneath his feet quite disconcerting. He expressed a clear interest in watching the waves and placing shells in the surf to wash away, but was intimidated by the size and power of the waves. (In some ways, it wasn’t all that different from the cows at the County Fair – better at a distance.) I hope that as he gets bigger, he learns to appreciate it, as I adore the power of diving into the crashing waves like a clumsy dolphin.

Building sand castles: I was gung-ho on sand castle building, with a whole giant bag filled with toys. As soon as we sat down on the beach, I started filling the molds with wet sand and flipping them over to create an elaborate castle. But Sprout was totally uninterested in helping. Instead, he just wanted to dump water all over my creations, resulting in them looking less like medieval buildings and more like Gaudi’s architecture. As he wasn’t willing to get the water himself, he would request “More water?” in his little voice, sending myself, Chris, or my dad to go retrieve another bucketful from the ocean. We spent a lot of time trudging the few feet needed to get yet another refill.

Flying kites: Sprout liked watching people fly kites – he pointed out every parasailer we saw (“big kites”). But again, participation wasn’t high on his list. I can’t blame him on this one though. While I envisioned bright kites high up above the ocean, our efforts were much more Charlie Brown than anything else. Both my mom and I had kites that were supposed to be easy to fly, but we found impossible to keep up in the air. As long as I was running, mine stayed up, but running on the beach gets very tiring very quickly. My legs giving out put an end to our kite-flying dreams.

Things I Didn’t Even Consider Before the Trip that Sprout Enjoyed

The Year-Round Christmas Store: These were staples of Lake George Village and pretty much every tourist-trap type place, but I never expected to go to one in Ocean City. (Why bother?) But when we were waiting for more than a half-hour to be seated for dinner, it was an awesome diversion. Sprout piped up “Big Santa!” every time he saw the giant Santa outside and named every single type of vehicle and animal ornament he saw. I had to carry him to prevent his tiny fingers from wrecking havoc, but that was a small price for an extended period of entertainment.

The hotel pool: I’ve always thought pools at ocean resorts were rather redundant. If you have an ocean, why would you ever go in the pool? But when you’re afraid of actually going in the ocean (see above), the pool is a pretty good alternative. Because my parents used their credit card points, we stayed in a way swankier hotel than either Chris and I or normally my parents could afford. It had a rocking kiddie pool, complete with two slides, a mini-lazy river, and squirting fountains. It was the perfect thing to allow Sprout to go in the water without the scariness of the waves themselves.

For a more amusing take on beach vacations with 100% more pie charts, check out Mommy Shorts’ Is the Beach Worth It?

What’s your best and worse experiences bringing kids to the beach?

Ferris Wheels and Cherry Tomatoes: The Montgomery County Fair

August 21, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

Giant cows, sheep in coats, neon Ferris wheels, huge wheels of cheese, racing pigs and deep fried everything – just a few of the wonders found at our local county fair. Except for the pig races, which we sadly missed, we experienced all of these last Sunday at the Montgomery County Agricultural Fair. But the thing I cared about the most was one little ribbon in one little pavilion on a plate full of cherry tomatoes. To be precise, my cherry tomatoes.

I’ve always loved county fairs. We frequently attended the Saratoga County Fair when I was a kid, home of many animal exhibits and at least one absolutely terror-inducing ride that clearly didn’t meet any reasonable level of safety standards. When we moved to Montgomery County, which has an entire agricultural reserve, I knew it would have a worthwhile fair. With three years of gardening experience, I thought it would be fun to enter my tomatoes in the fair last year, but it directly overlapped with our trip to Disney World. So I held off until this year.

While I do think of them as “my tomatoes,” gardening is really a family affair. We picked cherry tomatoes because it’s the one crop that we always have plenty to spare. This year, I was particularly proud of them because I raised the plants from seed I had saved, so they were fully mine. But they would have died long ago without Chris’s regular watering and pruning. Even Sprout helps out, using his little can to water (mainly his shoes) and picking red tomatoes (that usually go from the branch right into his mouth). I wasn’t able to pick the tomatoes for the fair myself without a small person trying to steal half of them, so Chris did it for me and even dropped them off for judging. It was the perfect job to tap his fine dining training – as he said, “I’m actually really good at small, repetive motions to make things look just perfect.”

So walking up to the vegetable table at the Farm and Garden and Flowers Department was exciting for everyone. Spout was already thrilled that we got to ride a school bus from the parking lot, so this was yet another amazing thing of the day. I stopped breathing as I looked for our plate. First place was literally a five dollar prize that they probably haven’t increased since 1950, but it was the pride of it that mattered.

Our entry turned out to be pretty easy to find because it was the only one with the stems still on the tomatoes. Although person accepting the entries recommended to Chris remove them, but he was worried about bruising one in the process. While none of the stems fell off – which would have disqualified us – they were a little wilted, which detracted from the tomatoes’ deep red just a bit.

All of that considered, we received – an honorable mention ribbon. But hey, it was something! I was a little disappointed that we didn’t place in the top three or even five, but it was a solid showing for the first year participating.

It made me feel validated as a gardener. Even though I’ve grown pounds upon pounds of food for my family and raised enough seedlings to give away to others, this outside recognition of my skill was special. It felt like entering an exclusive – albeit quirky – club. It was a similar feeling to the first time my writing was published in print. Like the connection I feel to my neighborhood while gardening, it was the sense of contributing to the history and larger whole of the county’s Agriculture Reserve. As someone relatively new to gardening in the grand scheme of things, it also reminded me of how far I’ve come. Only four years ago, my neighbor was betting to her friend against my garden being successful. She’d be so proud to see my ribbon now.

We celebrated our recognition by looking at all of the animal exhibits. Many of the animals at the Fair are owned by 4H students, who raise them as projects. Sprout’s favorites were definitely the chickens and bunnies – they’re more his size and less overwhelming than the cattle.

From there, we abandoned all pretense of sustainability or “local food” and headed to the Carnival. Filling up on fried chicken on a stick, fried green tomatoes, mutant-large corn on the cob, and watermelon, we tried to prevent get-away attempts from an excited small child. Fortunately for him, the next stop was a Funhouse in the style of the one in Grease. Starting with the rickety stairs to the slide at the end, he ran through with a smile.

We ended our night with the county fair classic – the Ferris Wheel. I have a necklace with a picture of an old-fashioned Ferris Wheel on it, which I’ve been telling Sprout about for months. After 20 minutes of waiting, we stepped into the car. As the wheel rotated, it lifted us up high above the fairgrounds, each step up revealing a little more landscape. The other rides glowed blue, red, and green, lines and curves of neon. The exhibits we had been at earlier retreated in the distance, dark as the animals started to bed down. The pop music from the rides and the chattering of the crowds lessened to a low background accompaniment. Once in a while, I would glance over at Sprout, who was in Chris’s lap across from me. His eyes were wide, his mouth parted just slightly, not a smile, but his signature look of concentration. He just watched, as he always does.

And tonight, as all nights, he was watching Chris and I. He was watching our pride in our handiwork, just as he watched and helped us tend the plants. He watched our participation in the larger community, engaging with the 4H students. He watched as we enjoyed simple pleasures like the Funhouse and Ferris Wheel. While I rarely do things just to “be an example,” I hope that my whole life is one, on that night and all of them.

A Stellar Second Birthday Party

July 8, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

I know I’m not a “Pinterest mom,” but my mom borders on being a Pinterest grandma. Thankfully, that came in very handy the weekend before last when we hosted Sprout’s second birthday party. Despite the fact that we had to change venues due to flash flood warnings, our Teddy Bear Picnic party ended up being a lot of fun for kids and adults alike.

Knowing this is probably the last year I can pick his party theme, I picked one he would like but wouldn’t choose himself, like dinosaurs or trains. As Teddy Bears’ Picnic seemed like it would be a common theme, I thought it would be easy to find ideas for decorations.

So like a stereotypical suburban mom, I searched Pinterest. While I found a few great ideas, I was rather disappointed. Instead of being overwhelmed by choices, I found two things: 1) the same cute ideas over and over and 2) photos of incredibly elaborate displays with no instructions on how to do them. After looking at several of the posts that fell into category 2, I realized the authors didn’t make the posts with the goal of helping others out. In most cases, the photos were of parties that were run by a party planner, catered, or at least had 90% of the stuff purchased from an expensive bakery. As I have neither the budget or inclination to take any of those options, these photos were pretty, but useless.

With that in mind, I talked to my mom and we chose a few crafty ideas that she could help with. Unsurprisingly, she did an awesome job. She made an adorable pair of bear ears for Sprout – because you better go in disguise to the Teddy Bear’s Picnic – that he actually kept on for a long time (aka more than one minute). While I just asked her to frame the lyrics from the Teddy Bears’ Picnic song in an ordinary picture frame, she went above and beyond by creating a border of picnic tablecloth. She also dragged some decorative old-fashioned picnic baskets out of the basement and her office. I can’t imagine how much paperwork she cleared out of the one.

Unfortunately, as cute as everything was, it couldn’t change the weather. As early as Friday, with a 90% chance of thunderstorm, it was obvious we needed to relocate the party from the park pavilion to an indoor location.

So I took the decorations, red and white tablecloths from the party store, and every teddy bear in the house and headed down to our finished basement. This was part of the executive decision to stay the hell out of everyone’s way this year, as opposed to last year. Both Chris and my mom have exacting visions for their projects that don’t exactly match my areas of competency. While last time I had the excuse of Sprout waking up for hours on end at 2 a.m., I would rather avoid having a panic attack and being miserable to my family again. Instead, I picked up toys, laid out picnic blankets, and arranged stuffed animals and books as artfully as I could manage. With the blankets and camp chairs, it was an indoor picnic, but still definitely a picnic.

In the meantime, Chris and my mom were whipping up delicious picnic food. Using a cookie cutter, my mom cut peanut butter and jelly and peanut butter and honey sandwiches into bear shapes, then drew mouths on with frosting.

She also made little driving bears with Milky Ways, M&Ms, Teddy Graham’s, and melted chocolate chips. (For Americans, the Smarties referred to in the link are like giant M&Ms, not the hard little things everyone picks out of their Halloween candy.) Chris made a deconstructed eggplant parmesan salad with cubes of fried eggplant, roasted tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, basil leaves, olive oil, sherry vinegar, and shaved Parmesan cheese. He made it ages ago and I adored it so much I still remembered it seven years later.

And of course, the cake. With this birthday cake recipe and the buttercream frosting recipe from culinary school, it was definitely the tastiest cake Chris has ever made. It was darn cute too. White frosting with lines of red colored sugar created a picnic blanket. Piping of green frosting around the edges made for convincing looking grass. And stuffed bears from Amazon (12 for $10!) around a piece of honeycomb, on top of a piece of Saran Wrap, made an adorable picnic. It was shockingly hard to find those little bears. We almost had to fall back on Care Bears, of all things.

Before we started, I wanted to see Sprout’s reaction. Last year, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, but this year, he’s already well-versed in the concept of make-believe. I’ve drank enough cups of pretend tea to know that. When he turned into the room, transformed into a teddy-bear fantasy, a big smile spread across his face. He was happy earlier in the day, but this was wonder. It made every bit of decorating worth it.

Once everything was ready, we waited for our guests. And waited. And waited. D.C. guests abide by the “fashionably late” idea and getting little kids out the door is a fight against entropy anyway. Just as I was getting genuinely nervous, our guests started arriving. Even though we had far fewer people show up than invited, it was the perfect number. If we had more, it would have been too crowded in the basement.

As it was, we had 4 kids running around, 1 infant, and a bunch of adults, both parents and not. The setting wasn’t as exciting as a playground, but they enjoyed our toy kitchen and little slide. They were self-sufficient enough that the parents could relax and talk, which everyone appreciated. I always like being able to see my friends.

But my favorite part of the whole day was just before we cut the cake. I held Sprout up to blow out the candles. As the lights were off and everyone was singing, he smiled quietly, his eyes shining. He knew everyone was singing to him out of love.

Later that night, he kept saying, “Happy day.” Happy day indeed.

Lullabies for Life

June 15, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

There’s no one like a young kid to make you feel like a stellar singer. I love to sing, but it’s not a God-given talent, or even one that can be bestowed by practice. So I love that Sprout loves me singing to and with him.

I’ve been singing to Sprout since he was born. In his earliest days, I’d hold him in my arms in the middle of the night, singing and pacing up and down our living room. I’d sing almost anything that came to mind – mostly children’s songs, because the lyrics were easy to remember, but occasionally rock favorites too.

The three most common were House on Pooh Corner by Loggins and Messina, a revised version of Rock-A-Bye Baby, and a song borne of my mom’s slight desperation when I was a baby.

I changed Rock-A-Bye Baby because the idea of singing a song about falling out of a tree is a bit dire for a newborn and certainly no reassurance for a nervous mom. In the hospital the night after Sprout was born, Chris helped me come up with a variant. For the last two lines, we substituted out “When the bough breaks, the baby will fall / Down will come baby, cradle and all,” with this geeky replacement: “All of the birdies do sing and call / He’s the best baby, so say we all.” We watched Battlestar Galatica while I was pregnant, so that particular phrase was still fresh in our minds.

My mom’s song, “Rockie rockie baby,” arose out of a similar predicament. When I was born, she couldn’t think of the words of a single lullaby. (Funny, now that she has a mental jukebox of kids’ songs from three decades of teaching.) So she made one up, so simple that even the most sleep-deprived new mom could remember it. It basically consists of the phrases: “Rock/Rockie,” “baby” and “you’re my little baby” in various combinations. So of course, I sang that to him as well, carrying on the tradition.

The love in our voices must have trumped the musical talent, because Sprout still loves to hear both of us sing. He enjoys his Music Together classes and banging on his instruments, but his favorite musical thing is singing with one of us. My mom now sings to him almost every time we FaceTime with my parents. She taught him how to start singing “You are my sunshine,” with her singing most of the parts and him filling in the ends of verses. She’ll sing “You are my…” and he’ll pipe in “sunshine!” with his tiny voice. It’s obscenely adorable. I decided to join in the fun by teaching him “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” I love the night and star-gazing, so it was an appropriate complement.

Sprout’s even started singing back to me when he knows I need it. When I was going through a rough patch a couple of weeks ago, he hugged me, rocked back and forth and sang, “Rockie rockie.” I hugged him tighter, leaned in and listened. It was one of the most comforting things anyone did or could do for me.

I hope that even as he realizes we aren’t very musically inclined, the spirit stays, the hope and the love of our songs.

Visiting Las Vegas with Toddlers and Young Kids

June 2, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 5 Comments

Tips for Bringing Toddlers and Young Children to Las Vegas

Las Vegas isn’t usually a place for families with toddlers or young kids; except when it is. We recently visited Chris’s sister and brother-in-law, Melissa and Steve, who live in the Vegas suburbs. In planning the trip, we found plenty to do for families of young children and had a great time with four days full of kid-friendly activities. We even could have filled a few more days if we had the time.

Whether you’re visiting relatives in Vegas or en-route to somewhere else, here are a few tips for bringing a toddler or other young child to the Las Vegas region:

1) Know that you’re going to be judged and just deal with it.

You could be bringing your child to get medical treatment in Vegas and you’d get snark from someone on the plane. We had a couple different people comment to him “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” and warning him not to drink too much, despite my protestations that we were visiting family. And God forbid you bring your kid to the Strip. When I was with Chris on our night out, I know I silently judged people (then realized better), despite the fact that we brought Sprout there only a few days earlier! Just explain why you’re there (or not), smile and move on.

2) Be selective about the Strip.

Honestly, the Strip is far from an ideal location for little kids, amongst the sex, drugs and gambling. Thankfully, they’re too little to understand any of it and there are some neat things of interest. Personally, we spent a little less than half a day there and it was perfect.

Before you go, know what you want to see. The place is huge and all of that walking can put a strain on even the most patient toddler or parent carrying/pushing them. We knew we wanted to see the Flamingo’s wildlife exhibit; the Bellagio’s gardens, glass ceiling, and fountain show; and the Mirage’s volcano show. We also planned to go the talking statues in Caesars’ Palace, but ran out of time. All of them worked out beautifully except the volcano show, which scared Sprout. He was fine until the end, which was really loud and bright and I think caused a bit of sensory overload.

Other activities in that area that seemed pretty family-friendly included the High Roller Ferris Wheel (very similar to the London Eye), the Mirage’s Secret Garden, the trip up the Paris’s “Eiffel Tower” and the Mandalay Bay’s Aquarium. However, all of those were pretty expensive so we skipped them. On the other end of the Strip, slightly older kids might like the lions at the MGM and the themes of New York, New York; the Luxor (Egyptian); and (medieval-lite castles).

3) Think beyond the Strip.

While many tourists never leave there, there’s a whole host of things to do for families off of the Strip. Las Vegas is an increasingly popular area for families to live – 350,000 kids in the school district! – and the area is trying to accommodate that growth.

A giant, multi-story playground that looks like a treehouse

I couldn’t get a good angle, but the playground was very cool.

A few blocks from Fremont St. is an upcoming area in the process of being redeveloped. One of the newest additions is the Downtown Container Park, a self-enclosed pedestrian shopping and entertainment era. Visitors are welcomed by a fire-breathing preying mantis and enter a lovely plaza with restaurants and shopping. We browsed an awesome retro toy store that is trying to “bring back pogs” (my mid-90s childhood appreciated the effort) and bought a shirt from the company Out of Print at a children’s clothing store. But the centerpiece of the complex is a giant, multi-story playground, with multiple slides, giant foam building blocks, and a sound/lights based movement game. I got excited and was a little disappointed that we needed to leave right after I finished shopping.

Another fabulous place to visit was Springs Preserve, a natural / state history museum / conservation center appropriate for all of the local schools’ field trip needs. Among its many exhibits, it included a simulated flash flood, live desert animals, the University of Nevada’s second place house for the US Department of Energy’s Solar Decathlon, desert adapted gardens, energy conservation arcade games, a desert-themed play area, and a train ride. Despite my deep love for state museums, we didn’t even get to the Nevada State Museum, which was also on the premises! Of course, Sprout’s favorite parts were the sandbox and water mister, but I admit they looked pretty fun. We didn’t have time, but the Discovery Children’s Museum also looks fantastic, with another multi-story climbing structure.

4) See some non-party animals.

Besides the flamingos, parrots, hummingbirds, and fish at the Flamingo and the tortoises, rabbits and tarantulas at Springs Preserve, there are also two mom-and-pop animal rescue facilities right near each other in the Vegas suburbs.

The Farm in Las Vegas is a homespun facility featuring a variety of farmyard critters, from huge cows to fluffy chickens. It features handwritten signs, old-fashioned mall toys (that no longer run, but are apparently awesome to climb up on), a number of local foodstuffs, and a substantial flock of peacocks. We actually bought peacock and bantam hen eggs and fried them up for breakfast at Melissa and Steve’s later on. While it isn’t a “petting zoo,” the manager did allow us to pet the giant potbellied pig, Kevin Bacon. Of course, among all of this, my kid and a few others decided their favorite thing was the sun-bleached toy kitchen in a weird little fenced-in area. It was a little slice of rural country life in suburban Las Vegas.

They escaped pretty easily. This one literally jumped straight up.

Right down the road, the Gilcrease Nature Sanctuary is another volunteer-run, passion project that seems to take in any animals the greater Las Vegas region has to offer them. Goats that escaped their pen – including an adorable baby – roamed around, horses mixed with chickens, emus eyed my shiny phone, and ducks and swans swam together. While not nearly as polished as a tourist attraction, it’s hard to beat for only $4 a person. Plus, it’s nice to support a local, family-run organization that’s working to help animals that would have nowhere else to go otherwise.

5) Go hiking.

Only a half-hour or less from Las Vegas is Red Rock Canyon National Recreation Area. Red Rocks is exactly what is says in the title – spectacular red rocks, ranging in hue from orange-red to dark blood maroon. There’s a substantial interpretive exhibit at the Visitor’s Center that looks at the earth, air and water and how they relate to the landscape and human history of the place. For the littles, there are cool brass animal sculptures to sit on, desert tortoises to spot, and a Zoetrope to spin.

Red rock formations on the Calico Trail at Red Rocks National Recreation Area.

The view from the Calico Trail.

Going down the 17 mile one-way Scenic Road, you catch a number of spectacular outlooks and hiking trails. We did part of the Calico Tanks trail, which wandered down a canyon and was 1 mile each way. Labeled as moderate, it had a little bit of mild rock-scrambling, but was totally doable with a toddler in a baby backpack. It isn’t well-marked at all (totally disorienting for someone used to forest hikes), but it’s also pretty easy to orient yourself. If you are sharp-eyed, you can often spot rock-climbers scaling Red Rocks’ famed cliff-faces. While Sprout was content gazing at the scenery for the first half of the hike, he decided he absolutely needed to walk Melissa and Steve’s little terrier halfway through. As much of the path was neither toddler or small dog friendly, this resulted in a public, loud and potentially dangerous meltdown on the trail. He calmed down enough for Chris to carry him sans-backpack, but it almost gave me a stress-induced aneurysm. So great trail – if your kid is a little more patient than mine.

We had originally planned to let him walk the 3/4 mile paved Children’s Trail. Unfortunately, between the meltdown delay, the closeness of naptime, and an approaching rainstorm, we left the park instead. The start of the Trail has picnic tables with beautiful scenery and ancient Native American pictographs that are worth stopping at even if you don’t have time to do the whole thing.

I also highly recommend bringing your own water and lunch. Red Rocks is run by the Bureau of Land Management, not the National Parks Service, so there is very limited food or vending on site.

5) Bring the baby backpack if you have one and leave the stroller at home.

Despite the Red Rocks rebellion, the baby backpack was immensely useful. I had to convince Chris to add it to our absurd amount of luggage, but it was worth it.

In Red Rocks, we would have been able to do only the simplest hikes without it. On the Strip, it gave him a birds’-eye view of everything, the opposite of what he would have had in a stroller. He loved looking at all of the bright signs, flashing lights and sketchy knock-off Disney characters (I’m looking at you, off-brand Olaf!). Plus, the narrow, crowded sidewalk would have been obnoxious to navigate in a stroller. While I love our stroller for everyday transportation, the baby backpack is much better when there’s a lot to see and you don’t want your kid stuck at looking at knees all day. Plus, no one handed my husband cards for “sexy ladies” while he was wearing the backpack. Even Vegas hawkers know there are some lines you just don’t cross.

6) Don’t assume the temperatures will be super hot.

Yes, Vegas can be very hot. But it isn’t all of the time. In mid-May, it barely went into the low-80s and it was usually too cold to go in Steve and Melissa’s pool. I was very glad I brought my jeans and spring jacket. Even when it’s climbing past 100, a lot of places are absurdly air conditioned as a response, making them feel freezing cold. Having back-up clothes and wells thought out extra layers is a good bet.

7) Visit a relative with a dog and a pool.

Obviously, this is not an option for everyone. But chasing Melissa and Steve’s little terrier around -and being chased back – was unquestionably Sprout’s favorite part of the trip.

Tour de Cookie is Good Enough for Me

May 13, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

I am a big fan of food-based bicycle rides. Maybe it’s because I have fond childhood memories of biking to Lakeside Farms for apple cider donuts or along the Lake George bike trail for ice cream. Or maybe it’s because they combine two of my favorite things. Either way, the Tour de Cookie, which features 7 to 11 different cookie stands, depending on the route, is close to my ideal ride. Plus, it benefits a local group that connects abused and neglected children with needed services. Yummy desserts, biking and benefiting a good cause? A few months ago, I said, “Count me in yet again for this year!” Plus, I wasn’t the ride alone – my parents traveled down from upstate New York and I would be dragging Sprout in the bike trailer.

While I had done the Tour de Cookie previously, I was slightly nervous about my readiness level. While I was seven months pregnant the last time I did it, I wasn’t dragging a trailer with a nearly 30 pound kid. Even though I ride every day now, it’s only a mile each way to the Metro without kid-towing duties. In contrast, the Tour de Cookie is 12 miles, plus another four miles from my house to the starting line and back, for a total of 20. In addition to my own capacity, I was also a little paranoid about whether or not Sprout would be okay being in the trailer for that long. Sure, he loved the ride a few weeks back, but that was only 3 miles with a break in the middle. At least I wasn’t signed up for the 40 mile long route!

One executive decision that helped both of us was the choice for Chris to drive Sprout to the start and then home again after the ride. I still needed to drag the trailer those 8 miles, but it was around 30 pounds lighter. In addition, the section we rode back and forth on is bumpy and a glorified sidewalk at best, so I was very glad he wasn’t present.

Being a bike advocate for the Rockville Bicycle Advisory Committee, I couldn’t resist (or maybe get out of) volunteering in some way. Thankfully, I got the simplest job we had – the person pointing the way and cheering for people starting the ride.

From my viewpoint, I had a great perspective on the diversity of participating riders. The Washington Area Bicyclists’ Association’s Women and Bicycles group had a great turnout, with a bunch of women clad in their distinctive teal jerseys. I nearly yelped when I saw three people riding a triple tandem bicycle, something I didn’t even think existed. The family biking contingent was in full force, with tons of parents with trailers and kids on their own bikes for the short route. I wish I had Rockville Kidical Mass business cards to hand out.

My location also made a perfect meeting space. Earlier that morning, fellow blogger John (also known as Rootchopper) at a Few Spokes Shy of a Wheel tweeted that he was at the registration desk and – knowing I was going to be riding – was looking for me. A few tweets later, he walked up and introduced himself in person! Right off, he said, “I love your blog.” As I don’t have very many readers, it warmed my heart to know at least one fan (who isn’t my mom) truly enjoys it. (Plus, he said my kid is cute, so super bonus points there.) Because we’re bloggers, we obviously took a selfie. I was rocking the sweet neon ride marshall vest.

Once I made sure everyone knew where they were going and had been thoroughly cheered, it was time for our merry band to take off. Sprout tried to climb in the trailer without prompting and didn’t even fuss with his “bike hat.” My parents followed me like the world’s slowest peloton as we rode to the first stop at Thomas Farm Community Center. Even though it was first, it was probably my favorite cookie stop across the entire seven-stop ride. The Girl Scout troop running it made homemade versions of beloved Girl Scout cookies, including Tagalongs and Thin Mints. I tried to share a peanut butter one with Sprout, who wasn’t the most cooperative. At first, he only wanted the big piece. Then, once he accepted the smaller one, he just walked around holding it without even trying to eat it. The thought patterns of an almost two-year old continue to elude me.

The rest of the ride was a pleasant ramble around Rockville’s Millennium Trail, a bicycle beltway around the city. We got stuck behind a very large group of adults and kids who were far less familiar with the best practices of group riding (like passing on the left or riding in a line) than we would have preferred. That’s rather inevitable with a short, family-friendly ride like this though. My mom – who is used to a much quicker pace – said it was the most relaxed ride she had ever been on. Of course, she’s never been on one of our Kidical Mass rides! Sprout only whined twice, both times because his helmet fell in front of his eyes. Understandable, and a quick fix. He seemed to enjoy the whole thing, especially our second major stop, where he gobbled down a chocolate-heavy granola bar he shared with my mom. Multi-generational family cycling at its best. I enjoyed that stop too, as it was at the top of the biggest hill on the ride. Eventually, the movement of the trailer lulled him to sleep and he was snoozing by the finish line.

From cheering others on to the delicious cookies throughout the route, the Tour de Cookie was a great celebration of and for our local cycling community.

In (Belated) Honor of Mother’s Day

May 11, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Knowing I’m the mother of a small child, multiple people this morning asked me how my Mother’s Day went. I could definitively say that it was wonderful. For breakfast – not in bed, too many crumbs – Chris made french toast with farmers’ market strawberries. At church, my friend Teresa took Sprout to kids’ class for the first time and said he behaved fantastically. The little bit of marker on his shirt was very much worth it for the hand-made card. In the afternoon, we hiked the Rock Creek Trail, a paved path that runs 20 miles from the suburbs into the heart of D.C. We saw a thick black water snake, ducks, three white-tailed deer, fish, and plenty of squirrels. Sprout loved his perch up in the baby backpack. Instead of a hotel or restaurant brunch, we went to Taiwanese dim sum for dinner, where we got a ton of food for $30, including as many noodles as Sprout could shove into his mouth. It was a Mother’s Day very much suited for this particular mommy, without any of the commercial trappings but with all of the love I could imagine.

But as lovely as my day was, I know Mother’s Day can be incredibly painful for many women. Whether because they wanted to be mothers and could not; have lost children to physical illness, accidents, or broken relationships; or have no contact with their own mothers, this particular celebration can feel very exclusionary. That’s why I loved the Litany for Mother’s Day that we printed in our church bulletin yesterday. My friend Rev. Deb Vaughn, was guest preaching, and I thought it was incredibly sensitive of her to include it.

Even if you aren’t familiar with the particular stories of these Biblical figures, I think their experiences ring true to many people:

We remember Sarai who was taunted by others in the household because of her inability to have children.
All-encompassing God, we pray for those who feel excluded when we emphasis one kind of family as normal.

We remember Esther, who was adopted and raised by her cousin.
God who embraces us all, we pray for those who cannot be raised by their parents, for a short time or permanently.

We remember Jochebed, the mother of Moses, who placed him into a raft on the river.
Saving God, we pray for parents who struggle to raise their children in oppressive circumstances.

We remember Hannah, who loved her child so much she handed him over to another to raise.
Loving God, we pray for parents who have placed their child in another family.

We remember Naomi, who grieved the death of her sons.
God, who grieves with us, we pray for parents who mourn the death of a child.

We remember Ruth, who gave up her family to be family to another.
Inclusive God, we pray for those who choose to be family to those isolated by culture or language or distance.

We remember Elizabeth, who had a child in old age and we remember Mary, who had a child as a teenager.
Ageless God, we pray that as a community we accept people of varying life stages and responsibilities and relationships.

We remember Rachel, crying for her children.
God of justice and hope, we pray for those whose children are killed, and look to a time when children can live safely in their communities.

We remember Lois and Eunice, who taught Timothy faith by example.
Faithful God we pray for those who teach us faith by their lives, may we remember that we also teach about you in the way we live.

We remember other people, not named in the Scriptures, like the mother of the prodigal son.
Companion God, we pray for those who wait for a phone call or a visit, cut off from family and friends by distance and disagreement.

Nurturing God, we give thanks for those
who enrich our lives by their presence
who teach us about your abundant love
who encourage us to journey in faith.

I hope that no matter your circumstance in life, no matter if you are a parent or not, that you have or are able to find a family – whether biological or not – who loves you as mine does. That is my Mother’s Day hope and prayer for all people.

Children’s Book Week: Passing Down my Beloved Books

May 4, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / 2 Comments

Did you know this is Children’s Book Week? My posts this week are going to focus on reading to children and children’s books, from the weird to the patience-building.

Saying that I am attached to my books is an understatement. I have two large Tupperware containers of books in my closet that I’ve owned since I was a child, ones that I either believed would be out of print or that I valued so deeply it pained me to get rid of them. But because I was a very precocious reader, very few of them are picture books. In fact, I have few distinct memories of reading picture books at all. This leaves me at a bit of a loss for now when it comes to passing on my beloved books to Sprout. Fortunately, there are a few that remained from my young childhood, mainly because my mom “borrowed” them for her classroom and brought them home when she retired. However, some are a bit different than I remember them.

Squiggly Wiggly’s Surprise: This was definitely the most hilariously disappointing of the bunch. Squiggly Wiggly is a worm (according to the book – he’s actually a caterpillar) that is represented by a little finger puppet that you push through holes in the book. However, his brown coloring and black rings make him look suspiciously like part of the male anatomy. Less funny but more unfortunate, Squiggly has some serious body image issues. While the story is ostensibly about him learning about different colors, most of it is actually him complaining that he’s drab and ugly, opining he could be something else. In the end, of course, he’s transformed into a beautiful butterfly. That’s kind of a crappy message though, as not everyone actually gets to become a butterfly. Squiggly should love himself for who he is. If you want caterpillar stories, stick with The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Bialosky Goes Out and Bialosky Stays Home: In contrast, these books were a pleasant surprise. I faintly remembered the books that used photos of a teddy bear as pictures, but before re-reading them, wouldn’t have been able to tell you anything about them. Bialosky is like Winnie the Pooh’s long lost cousin: he makes grand plans that go array, loves honey, and is “a bear of very little brain.” In Bialosky Goes Out, he spends so long deciding on where to go and what to bring on a walk that it starts pouring before he has the chance to leave. In Bialosky Stays Home, he attempts to make cookies, but “tests” so much of the batter via nibbling that’s there isn’t any left to bake! In both books, he responds to his dilemma with a shrug and declaration that he’ll do better next time. While they lack the moral ambiguity of Winnie the Pooh, he has an irresistible attitude even when his plans completely fail. I’m very glad my mom kept them – they seem to be out of print now.

The Day Jimmy’s Boa Ate the Wash: This is by far my favorite handed-down book, a tale of subversive fun narrated by a hilarious little girl (Meg). It has a sense of unbridaled, unashamed chaos. It starts off with the main character greeting her mother – who wears a very 1970s outfit combining no fewer than 3 floral patterns – after a trip to the farm. In the course of telling her mom about the trip, we find out that not only did a bale of hay fall on a cow, but that pigs ate the students’ lunches, motivated by the kids throwing their corn, due to the students running out of eggs to throw, all precipitated by Jimmy bringing his pet boa constrictor into the hen house. And the narrative – or Meg’s mom – doesn’t judge the kids at all for this behavior. Meg’s mom acts surprised, but far less than I suspect I’d be in the same circumstance. In fact, it’s very clear that Meg is a key instigator in it all of it – while she didn’t start it, the scene in the henhouse shows her with a full armful of eggs, ready to chuck at her classmates. The other thing I love is the fact the protagonist is female. Not only are girls underreprestened in children’s literature, but they tend to either fit into two stereotypes – full-on tomboys or very pink, very conventionally feminine girls. Meg and her fellow female classmates are neither. They all wear cute 1980s style dresses and skirts to the farm, but participate in the chaos as much – or more than – the boys. When Meg comes home, she changes into a car racing costume to pilot a homebuilt racecar with Jimmy (owner of the boa constrictor) and his new pet pig. But the best part is her non-plussed reaction to the day’s events -“I suppose it was exciting if you’re the kind of kid who likes class trips to the farm.”

A Very Young Dancer: I haven’t given this book to Sprout yet, as it’s rather text-heavy. Nonetheless, I look forward to reading it with him. It follows a young ballet dancer training in the School of American Ballet in New York and what she has to do before the big performance. Because my mom took me to the New York City Ballet every year (we lived near its summer home), I was a little obsessed with ballerinas as a kid. While I can’t force him to like anything, I want Sprout to be able to appreciate dance and theater, especially because they are often seen as “girly” interests. I hope this book can give him some insight into the hard work, athleticism, and beauty that goes into dance. Unfortunately, he won’t even be the second kid to use it. A little boy at my mom’s school was interested in dance and I gave her permission to take it to school. He then drew on it with crayon. At least I know it was loved.

What were your favorite books growing up? Did you have the chance to pass any of them on to your kids or kids you know?

Easter with All the Trappings

April 10, 2015 / Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

While I celebrate Easter as a Christian, I also appreciate its spring celebration aspects as well. Needless to say, rabbits and eggs are much more about fertility than Jesus. So somewhere between the seasonal, commercial, and religious, we celebrated Easter in its many weird forms.

We were partly motivated by my in-laws visiting for the weekend. Because it was too cold to do anything outside, my mother-in-law wanted Sprout to get photos with the Easter Bunny. While I have conflicting feelings about Santa, I’m just apathetic about the Bunny. Considering Sprout’s highly negative reaction to Santa at Christmas, I didn’t have high hopes for the Bunny. I was mostly right. Sprout stood calmly in front of the Bunny, leaning forward to peer at him from a foot or two away. But when we tried to put him on the Bunny’s lap, a wordless look of panic crossed his face. He held out his arms, looked at me and pleaded, “Mama mama!” After only a few moments, I declared it a lost cause and picked him up. I’m not going to try to convince my kid to grin when he’s terrified. The photographer got in one photo before he got properly upset, but he’s far from smiling. My mother-in-law was happy with it though, which was enough for me.

Our other Easter activity that day – dyeing eggs – went over much better. Sprout knows the word “egg” and is starting to learn his colors, so it combined two exciting things for him. I’m not sure, but I think he jumped to the conclusion that the different shades of colored water were paint. (He’s familiar with the idea from the book Mouse Paint, where white mice jump into jars of paint and mix them together.) So when we showed him what happened when you drop a white egg in colored water, much like a white mouse climbing into paint, he caught on very quickly. Despite our cautions to be “gentle, gentle,” he dropped almost every egg into its respective cup of water from a substantial height. Of course, he managed to avoid getting splashed – it all ended up on my mother-in-law’s shirt instead. Thankfully, food coloring does wash out.

The next morning, our dyeing paid off, despite my initial hesitation. While I was afraid Sprout was going to step on them, my mother-in-law convinced me to do a gentle introduction to egg hunting with him on Easter morning. We spread the eggs out on the rug and gave him the carton to put them in. He methodically picked up each egg, looked it as we named the color, and placed it neatly in the carton. The adults actually came much closer to stepping on the eggs than he did! His basket was filled with plastic eggs, which he also loved playing with. Even now, he’s constantly picking them up, opening and closing them and putting them back in the basket. Woe to me for thinking a toddler wouldn’t like filling something up and dumping it back out!

Sprout only received one Easter basket, filled to the brim with sweets. I knew that my in-laws were going to give him candy – even though they knew we would eat most of it – so I didn’t want to do that as well. Besides, candy is one of those things I won’t bother giving him until he asks for it. Instead, I bought him two spring related presents – a set of real gardening tools made for children and the complete collection of Beatrix Potter stories. Both are fabulous, although I severely underestimated how much of a tome the stories were. Hopefully he’ll understand that we can’t read them all in one pre-bedtime session!

After we opened baskets, it was time to go to church. While we had family Easter egg hunts in the past, we included the general public this year for the first time as an outreach event. One of the other church members brought 200 eggs to hide, which I thought was going to be more than enough. Of course, any time you’re overly confident about something, it backfires spectacularly. Much to my surprise, 10 minutes before the hunt was supposed to start, we had a tremendous group of children and parents all over our front churchyard. And a bunch of kids were putting eggs in baskets before I had the chance to say, “Go!” In literally less than 5 minutes, all of the eggs were gone. Knowing that other families were going to show up a little late, I scrounged eggs from Sprout’s basket and that of the church kids’ and re-hid them so they would at least have something to look for. Thankfully, the same folks who brought the eggs also brought extra goodie bags of random toys and candy, so all of the kids that had very few to hunt for at least got goodie bags. We also had a plethora of sweets, so my fellow-church goer Jan made sure every kid got a cookie or cupcake. Thank goodness for extra cookies. I still felt terrible when we had to tell families that there weren’t any eggs left though. At least we have some lessons learned for next year.

The day finished off with dinner at a restaurant modeled after an Adirondack or Rocky Mountains lodge, all wood crossbeams and duck decoys. My father-in-law – who is a pickier eater than Sprout – enjoys the food and the decor. Plus, as Sprout loves running up and down a ramp it has decorated with twinkle lights, we acquiesced to his request of “walk, walk!” several times. He also managed to put away a truly ungodly amount of macaroni and cheese.

Except for a few bobbles, our Easter turned out pretty darn well.

We'll Eat You Up – We Love You So

The Adventures of a Mom Just Trying to Make a Difference

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